The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

One of Those Nights

(fd mf ff ft)

(Amanda Tuck first appeared in I Fought the Law and... Chapter 5.1 and Bubbles, well, it’s hard to read anything of mine without stumbling upon the little tramp in one form or another. The Joe here bears absolutely no resemblance to the bag of fries that appears nightly in the MCForum. Well, except for the butt thing :—) Dedicated to Archibael, Lordsomno, and BlueLyric, ‘cause it was written, re-written, and re-written again, for their three expos on the MCForum.)

“Ohmygawd, it IS her!” Tawana jumped up a half foot behind the hotel counter as she watched Mandy Tuck and her entourage flow through the spinning glass doors. “I guess even hot movie stars need vacations.”

“Big deal,” sniffed Jane Thomas, night manager, as she stood behind the black girl. “If you ask me, no woman that old should ever go by the name ‘Mandy.’”

Tucker Simmons, the head bellman, laughed. “Hey, when you’re THAT hot, you can call yourself anything you damn well want to.” The trio stared at the group of celebrity hangers on as they made their way towards the elevator. Tucker started down out the office door. “I’m gonna go down and see if she has any room service amenities that need delivering.”

“Dog,” Jane muttered under her breath as he left. She glanced down at the memo on the desk in front of her. “If she thinks that we’re going to clear a whole floor for her, she’s nuts.”

“I hear that’s standard wherever she goes now,” Tawana said, still staring glassy-eyed across the hall as the last of the group made its way into the elevators.

“Good Lord, who does she think she is, Julia Roberts?” Jane shot back, crumpling up the memo in one hand. “That group of fashion models we’ve got on twelve needs the rooms. Then there’s all the kids on Spring Break. This place is going to be a nightmare tonight.”

Tawana took a deep breath and sighed to herself. “Julia Roberts just WISHES she was Mandy Tuck,” she giggled. “Who doesn’t?”

“Stupid actresses,” Jane shook her head. “Be sure to finish posting the valet charges,” she rolled her eyes at her desk clerk and walked back into her office. The portly manager tossed the crumpled memo towards the trash can and cursed as it hit the rim and bounced out. “Stupid celebrities,” she muttered again.

* * *

“Darn it, my garter broke,” Debbie sighed as she attempted to fix the snap into the top of the stocking.

“That’s why they gave us extras, silly,” Heather giggled as she tossed one over to her roommate. “What hotel room’s the show in tomorrow?”

“Oh, some room on the balcony level, I think,” Debbie answered, admiring her legs in the mirror. “These hose stay up pretty good without belts, actually.” She rode one hand down her thigh to her knee. “Silly belts are just one big nuisance.”

“Yeah, but it’s all for the guys, anyway,” Heather said, staring at her own stocking feet and looking at the backs of her legs to make sure the seams were straight. “I mean, who really wears seams nowadays anyway?”

“It does seem rather pointless,” Debbie said, sliding her broken belt around to the front to unclasp it. “And they’re pretty uncomfortable, besides.”

“Well, I used to wear ‘em all the time for Kurt.” Heather mused as she looked in her own mirror and tugged at the tops of her sheer black hose. “He gets really turned on when I sleep next to him in garter belt and hose.”

Debbie rolled her eyes as she fitted the new belt about her waist and twirled it around, watching the garters swing freely in the air. “What a perv,” she giggled. “No way could I sleep like that.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad, once you get used to it.” Heather sat down on her bed and crossed her legs, feeling the nylon slide slowly across her knee.

“Well, okay, I guess maybe I could if I woke up next to Kurt every morning!” Debbie laughed and fastened the tops of the stockings into the garters one by one.

Heather slid across the bed and grasped at the tops of the sheets. “Actually, I kinda miss the feeling of clean, cool sheets against my legs.” She drew back the bed cover. “Have you ever laid in bad with your hose on?”

Debbie let out a very unladylike guffaw. “Yeah, when I was, like, fifteen!” She bent over and back to see if the garter clasps were fixed too tightly. “Really, Heather, you sound just like my kid sister.”

The brunette had now gotten the blankets all the way down and was sliding her black legs back and forth across the sheets, feeling the cool of the linen through the hose. “Mmmmmm...” she purred.

Debbie stared at her with her mouth open. “Really, you’re starting to freak me out here.”

“Oh, like I’M the one who does the fetish shoots with whips and chains?” Heather laughed and brought the sheets up over her legs. “Talk about uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wear ‘em in the fucking bed,” the redhead blurted and picked up a pillow off her bed to throw. She could see the covers on Heather’s bed moving more rapidly now. “You’re not...?”

Heather sighed. “No, silly, I’m not THAT desperate...yet.” The covers stopped moving and she stared at the ceiling. “But I really hate these location shoots.”

Debbie sat on her bed and put the pillow across her knee. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” she sighed. “It’s been a whole two weeks for me.”

“Well, nothing’s stopping YOU from just going down to the bar, girlfriend. All those yummy college guys on Break...”

“Yeah...” she adjusted the pillow on her knee, moving it slowly back and forth unconsciously across the fabric encasing her legs. “...but I just don’t really...feel right...about that.”

“Yeah, I guess I know how you feel.” Heather lifted her knees up, making a little tent in the covers. “But only two more days to go.”

Debbie didn’t answer. She looked down at the pillow and giggled as she lifted it and slid it down her thigh to her foot. “You know, it does feel kinda good.”

Heather smiled and slid her legs around on the bed some more. “I think I’m gonna sleep in the hose,” she said softly, with clouds in her eyes. “It’ll remind me of Kurt.”

“Doesn’t feel THAT good,” she frowned, but continued to rub the pillow up and down her leg. A chime from somewhere nearby sounded out “Who Can it be Now?” by Men at Work and Heather searched around for her phone.

“Who’s calling at this hour?” she muttered as she reached into her purse on the night stand.

“Probably Jason reminding us to get a wake-up call,” Debbie sighed and tossed the pillow back on the bed. She reached down and fiddled with the clasps on one of the garters.

Heather flipped open the phone. “’Lo?” She tossed open the bed covers and laid there in her black stockings. “Yeah, we’re just about to call it a night. What’s up?”

Debbie was bending over to get a bottle of sleeping pills out of her purse, but suddenly jumped a foot into the air when Heather squealed.

“GET OUT!” Heather sprang to her knees on the bed and shouted into the tiny phone. “Stop fucking with me!”

“What?” Debbie shuffled across the carpet on her black nylon-covered toes and stood beside the other bed.

Heather jumped out of her bed and ran to the closet, still yelling into the phone. “Oh, NO fucking WAY!”

“WHAT?!” Debbie asked again, scooting across the floor after her friend.

Heather pinched the phone between her naked shoulder and ear as she rummaged through the closet and grabbed the hotel’s terry cloth robe. “If this is some kind of fucking joke, tell Jason I’m gonna KILL him!”

Debbie grabbed at the phone, but Heather ducked her and swung the robe around her shoulders in one quick motion. “Hey, Squirrel, hold on, ‘kay?”

Heather tossed the phone to Debbie as she fastened the robe around her waist and reached for the door handle. “Talk to Squirrel,” she said, just before she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving her puzzled roommate holding the phone with one hand and the open door with the other.

Cautiously, the petite woman ventured down the hallway towards the emergency exit stairway, reading the numbers on the doors as she went. Reaching the end of the hall, she stood in front of a rather ornate set of double doors. Putting a hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle, placed her ear to the doors. From back down the hallway, she heard Debbie squeal.

“NO FUCKING WAY!”

Startled, Heather jumped up and ran back down the hallway, grinning like a maniac the whole way. Upon reaching the door, she grabbed her giddy bunkmate by the arm and dragged her back into the room where they both collapsed on a bed, laughing and giggling like kids.

“Did you hear anything?” Debbie managed to ask as soon as she calmed down.

“How could I, with some loud DOOFUS making all sorts of noise in the hallway?” Heather laughed and slid the bottom of the robe against a silky thigh.

Debbie jumped off the bed and walked over to the closet. “I still don’t believe it,” she said. “I thought all those big celebrities stayed in Four Seasons and stuff.” She grabbed the other robe that was hanging there.

“Hey,” Heather got an idea, “maybe we can order room service and ask whoever comes up if it’s true. Think they’d tell?”

Debbie slipped into the robe and peered out of the peep hole into the hall. “I kinda doubt it. I think they all take some kind of sacred hotel oath or something.”

Heather quickly slid out of the bed and over to the balcony window. “Hey, think we can see something from out here?” she asked as she drew back the curtains and fumbled with the outside door latch.

“You look, I’m gonna sneak down the hall,” Debbie replied as she opened the door.

Heather managed to slide the door open and stepped outside into the darkness. The breeze blew the hem of the robe against her hose and she reached up to pull the top edges tight against her neck. Leaning out over the balcony railing, she peered to her left and counted the windows. After a few moments of silent vigilance, she pulled the robe tighter against her body and stepped back inside the room, just in time to see Debbie sporting a nasty frown as she returned from the hallway.

“No luck, huh?” Heather ventured. “Me neither.”

Debbie plopped back down on her bed. “Oh, well, maybe if we get up early tomorrow we’ll have better luck.”

“Geez,” Heather mused as she sat on her own bed and retrieved her phone, “I think I’ll text my Mom.”

“Cool idea!”

“Yeah, she’s her favorite actress,” Heather smiled as she typed away on the itty bitty buttons of her phone. “Says it’s so great to finally see older women getting some juicy parts.”

Debbie lay back on her bed. “I can’t fucking BELIEVE it. Mandy Tuck sleeping right down the hallway. How far do you think it is?”

“Oh, twenty yards, maybe.”

“Hey, maybe it’s more like ten if the room next door is part of the suite.”

“Man, now there’s absolutely no way I’m gonna sleep tonight!” Heather stood back in front of the vanity mirror in the bathroom and played with her hair. “I think I’ll need one of your pills.”

Debbie opened the bottle and sighed. “I’ll have to take two.”

“Save two for me,” Heather shuffled in from the bathroom and went to the door for one final look outside...

* * *

Tawana tapped her right foot and hummed to herself as she inputted figures for the room and taxes into her front desk computer for the night’s billing.

“Penny for your thoughts?” a voice from behind her made her jump.

“Damn, Joe!” the young woman put a hand in front of her mouth to hold the expletive in. And stepped back, raising her arms.

The tall black graveyard security guard danced around to her right, raising his fists up in a mock defensive pose. “Hey, now, you want my job for tonight, boo, you can have it,” he laughed. “Especially with all the drunken frat boys hanging out in the bar.”

She rolled her eyes, then a light bulb went off over her head. “Hey, you get any noise complaints from the fourteenth floor, you better be sure to let me come up with you.”

He put a hand to his chin. “Hmm, I wonder why?” he chuckled and quickly stepped back to avoid her swipe at his shoulder.

“Now, you tell me you don’t care Mandy Tuck is upstairs in our hotel!”

“Okay, just a little.” He put up his fists again. “It’s not like Halle Berry...”

“Yeah, fuck you too,” she huffed and turned back to her computer. “Don’t you have some college kids to harass?”

“So, like what’s all about this Mandy Tuck?” He walked out in front of the counter. “Never seen any of her flicks. She okay for a white girl?”

She started typing again. “I think I hear Miss Thomas calling you.”

“Now, when Lionel Richie walked in the door...”

“So months ago,” she mumbled out of the side of her mouth.

“Or Beyonce...”

“Weeks.”

“Damn, girl, that’s harsh...” He walked over to the bowl of apples sitting on the bell desk, then cocked his eyes sideways as he watched a huge mass of roses walk through the front sliding glass doors. As the flowers passed him, his eyes dropped down to the green and red plaid short short skirt and thigh-high white stockings that marched along behind them.

Emphasis on behind.

Eventually, the flowers reached the front desk and Tawana stood on her tiptoes to peer over them. “Hi!” an impossibly high voice chirped from somewhere inside the bouquet. “I’m here to see Mandy Tuck!”

From where he stood, it was all Joe could do to keep from breaking out in laughter. Luckily, his training got the better of him and he held it in while the bizarre figure stood at the desk. He could make out a pair of blonde pigtails, a white blouse, five-inch black strap pumps and not much more. He found it difficult to concentrate on anything other than the glimpse of white flesh between the bottom of the skirt and the top of the stockings.

“Uh,” Tawana started, “we don’t have anyone here registered by that name...” The mass of red and green moved slightly to her left and an impish face craned around it.

“Oh, could you please, like, check again?” That whining voice made Tawana want to scratch at her ears. “She’s expecting me.”

“I’m sorry, but even if we had anyone here by that name, I couldn’t give out a room number...”

“I had the number,” the face pouted, “but I lost it.”

Tawana did her best to fight the urge to roll her eyes, straightening her name tag instead. “Even if that were the case, we can’t...”

“She said she’d, you know, leave a key for me. Could you PLEEEEEASE check again?”

The black girl instinctively moved one hand up to her ear... “What was the name again?”

“Bubbles.”

Joe’s hand immediately jumped to cover his mouth. Tawana dropped to her knees to retrieve an imaginary something or other on the floor. Even the roses blushed.

“What?” The little eyelids fluttered.

“Sorry...” Tawana mumbled from somewhere behind and below the counter, “If you’ll excuse...me hehe... I...dropped...hehe...something...”

Jane Thomas walked out from the back office and took in the scene. “May I help you, Miss...?”

“Bubbles.”

She paused only for a moment before twenty years of guest service experience rose to the surface. “Well, err, Miss...Bubbles...what can we do for you?” Tawana remained on her butt behind the counter, a finger firmly clenched between her teeth to keep the laughter down where it belonged.

“I’m here to see Miss Tuck,” Bubbles sighed. “But I’m not having much luck.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that,” Jane smiled as she pulled up the information of the Presidential Suite. “Do you have a room number?”

“She gave it to me, but, like, I lost it.” Bubbles pouted again. “We’re kinda, sorta friends, but not really.”

The night manager did a double take as she pulled up the Memo Screen for the reservation. Sure enough, there in CAP LOCK letters:

“EXTRA KEY FOR ‘BUBBLES.’”

Jane glanced down at Tawana and gave a slight shrug as she reached over and tapped in the code for a duplicate key. “Sorry about the confusion, Miss.”

Bubbles smiled wide. “Oh, no problem, really, this kind of stuff, like, happens to me ALL the time!”

Jane forced a smile as she inserted the key card for processing, then forced it into an envelope and wrote the room number on the front. Sliding the envelope across the polished surface of the desk, she again apologized for the inconvenience.

“No problem,” Bubbles chirped as she slid the envelope into her blouse. Picking the flowers back up, she started to turn towards the elevators, then suddenly stopped. “By the way,” she said, fairly loudly and to no one in particular, “tell Tawana I think she’s fucking HOT!”

Then she shot off across the lobby towards the elevators, giggling like a maniac.

Joe could hold it in no longer. Laughing loudly, he stumbled over to the desk just before Tawana could crawl into the office, her face about as pale as a black woman’s can get. “Yep, it’s gonna be one of THOSE nights!” he roared.

* * *

Lilly the bartender was up to her ears in fraternity sweaters and sorority skirts. “I can remember when a letter jacket meant something more than ‘let’s get drunk and party,’” she sighed as she poured yet another double shot of Jack Daniels.

“Hey, as long as they pay hotel prices,” Matt smiled and darted around the corner of the bar to catch yet another rocks glass before it tumbled to the floor. The two of them could barely hear each other over the raucous laughter that filled the small hotel bar. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay late and help you clean up.”

“I don’t envy Joe tonight,” Lilly said, shoving the shot glass in the direction of yet another fucked-up coed. “I bet these guys got at least three rooms full of booze upstairs.”

“So long as they pay their bills before he kicks ‘em out,” he chuckled as he tossed the empty glass back into the soapy water in the sink and reached up to grab another bottle of beer out of the cooler. “And it’ll keep him awake.”

She looked at her watch and frowned. “Two hours.”

Matt hit some buttons on the register and the cash drawer opened. “If this keeps up, I might have to make a drop!”

“And leave me alone with these monsters?!” As if on cue, a half-empty bottle rolled across the bar and over the edge, spilling its content down the front of her black uniform before it hit the mat and shattered at her feet. “Maaaaaattttt?”

“Okay, maybe not,” he shrugged as he ran to get the broom...

On the other side of the bar, Brad, the geology major, was attempting to wipe some beer off the big “A” on the front of his jacket. “And I’m telling YOU that I saw her with my own eyes!”

“Right, just like the time you and old man Nestor’s wife...” Gerry, the starting second baseman, interrupted his own sentence by chugging down the rest of his Bud Light.

“Hey, I woulda proved it if the damned battery on the camcorder hadn’t run down.” Brad lifted his own bottle and started to drain it.

“Riiiight,” Gerry spun the bottle on the bar and unleashed a burp so loud that Brad started sputtering in the middle of a swallow, bent forward suddenly and started convulsing in alternate fits of laughter and choking.

“You...FUCKER!” He slid off his stool and went down to one knee as he fought to keep two hours and twenty dollars worth of beer down.

“Damn,” Gerry laughed as he patted his frat buddy on the back, “What did I tell you about lying while chugging? Man, ain’t no better bullshit detector than beer!”

Straightening back up, Brad took a playful swing at the other man. “Fuck you, I’m gonna get a picture of her just to prove you’re sorry ass wrong!”

“Yeah, right, just make sure you check your...batteries,” Gerry laughed, picked up the empty bottle and slammed it on the bar to get Lilly’s attention.

“Yeah, well, FUCK YOU!” Brad yelled as he staggered off towards the restroom. “FUCK YOU!”

* * *

“Surprise!!!”

Johnny stared at the talking bouquet of roses as it walked through the open door of the suite. “Never met a moving flower bed before,” was all he could think of to say. He adjusted the towel about his waist.

The flowers swiveled to his right and studied the broad-shouldered man through squinty eyes. “Hey, you’re not Mandy!”

He dropped his head down to look across his chiseled chest to the muscled waves of his abs. “Nope, not last time I looked.” The thin pale set of legs skipped the flowers over to the nearest counter and set them down.

“Wow!” Bubbles chirped as she quickly glanced around the large room and widened as they focused on the huge set of windows looking out over the lights of the city. “This place is, like, so fucking cool!” She tore her eyes away to look back at Johnny. “Do you, like, come with the room, or does she have to pay extra?” she giggled.

Johnny smiled and dropped the towel. “Darlin’, even this place couldn’t afford me,” he smiled and turned around to glide towards a door to an adjacent room, his ears waiting patiently for a reaction. Usually the deep breath was audible from across a room. Occasionally, he’d even hear the swallow.

But the wolf whistle caught him completely off-guard. “Woo-hoo, swing that butt!”

“Hahahaha!” he laughed as he peeked back around the doorway to see her bouncing towards him. “Mandy’s in the tub,” he pointed towards a door on the opposite wall of the suite. “And I’ve got to get dressed.”

She suddenly stopped and looked hurt. Even her pigtails seemed to droop just a bit lower. “Sorry, girlfriend, maybe in some other lifetime,” he mocked a lisp. “I’ve heard WAY too many stories about you and I like myself JUST the way I am.”

“TEASE!” she yelled playfully as he disappeared into the darkness, then she turned back to study the room again. “So this is how famous people live,” she said to herself as she walked over to the windows to look down on the lights and the endless ocean beyond.

After a few more moments, she started to walk towards the door to Mandy’s room, then suddenly stopped. With a smile and another fit of the giggles, she reached down and untied her blouse, then kicked off her shoes and pushed down her skirt and stepped out of it. She shuffled across the carpet in only her white stockings and slowly, cautiously pushed the door open.

Treading as lightly as possible, she tiptoed slowly down the small hallway, following the heavy scent of cherry-scented perfumed bubble bath. With one hand over her mouth to prevent herself from making a telltale sound, she crept silently towards the unsuspecting movie star. Wrapping her free hand around the frame of the bathroom doorway, she fell to her knees and peeked around the corner into the dimly lit room.

It was a huge master bathroom, befitting the overall size of the Presidential Suite. On the far side of the ornate tile floor, an absolutely massive Jacuzzi was built directly into the deck. Behind it was yet another large window overlooking the few city streets between the hotel and the beach. She could hear the slight hum of the water as it swirled around the tub and thought she could barely make out a figure sitting upright in the water by the window. She took a deep breath...

...and jumped up and quickly slid across the slick tile floor, picking up speed as she moved.

“CANNONBALL!!!!”

Amanda Tuck quickly pushed her feet against the wall of the tub and slid back against the left wall to avoid the incoming Bubbles bomb. Hot soapy water flew everywhere, including a good seven feet back into the interior of the room. The glass window shook.

“Nice to see some things never change,” Mandy giggled as Bubbles jumped back out of the Jacuzzi almost as quickly as she had entered.

“DAMN, that’s fucking hot!” The younger woman jumped up and down on the tile floor in only her wet white stockings, desperately trying to wipe the soap out of her eyes. “Owowowowowow!!!!!”

Mandy reached over and grabbed a hand towel off a nearby rack and stood up to help Bubbles wipe her eyes. “Good to see you too.”

As soon as her eyes could focus again, Bubbles wrapped her arms around the other woman and hugged her tightly. “Eeeeeeeee!!!!!” she squealed. “Mandy!!!!!”

Almost immediately, Mandy’s face locked into a grimace and she pulled away and plopped back down into the hot tub. “Careful, careful,” she sighed and crossed her arms over her breasts as she looked up at the stunned girl woman standing over her.

“Geez, my nips are on FIRE!” Bubbles moaned as she ran her fingers across her small breasts. “Oh, geez, like, I totally forgot.” A finger moved down her stomach and her hand cupped itself over her naked pussy. “What a rush!”

“Uh, yeah,” Mandy forced a smile, then turned back to look out the window.

Bubbles slowly dipped one foot into the water, then the other, finally opting to sit on the cool tile on the edge of the Jacuzzi, her stocking feet dangling in and out of the extremely hot water. “Sorry,” she sniffed.

“Oh, my fault, really,” Mandy said. “It’s been too long and things have...changed.” She turned back to Bubbles and patted her on a knee. “So, girlfriend, what’s up with you?”

“Well, nothing so much with me.” She splashed her feet in the soapy water. " Bailey’s thinking about running for, like, either DA or maybe even mayor!”

Mandy smiled. “She’s certainly got the drive for it.”

“Yeah. And with Higgy’s money and Bandy’s...well, you know...”

Mandy turned back to the window. “Yeah, I know.”

“Sorry.” Bubbles sighed, then reached out her hand and splashed some water. “Hey, we all went out to see your big movie!”

The older woman simply continued to stare out at the ocean. “So, does he talk about me?”

“Uh, no, not really.” Bubbles slid slowly into the water to move closer to her. “But, you know, he doesn’t talk about much of anything except what he’s, like, doing in the right now.”

Mandy’s face focused silently on her silhouette, reflected on the glass.

“You really do look great.” Bubbles moved over beside her at the window and stared right along with her. “If anything, it looks like you’re, you know, getting younger.”

“For all I know, I might be,” Mandy whispered softly and wetness began to collect in her eyes. “Then again, for all I know, I might be growing horns and a tail.”

Bubbles slipped an arm around her shoulder and laid her head against the window. “I know I’m not, like, the best kind of person to talk to...”

Mandy leaned her own head against the window and swallowed hard. “That’s just it, Barbara, there’s no one I CAN talk to. I can’t really go to a doctor, what the fuck do I say? Some demon put a curse on me? I suddenly became the sexual version of the Duracell rabbit. She keeps going and going and everyone around her keeps cumming and cumming?”

Despite herself, Bubbles found one hand covering her mouth to suppress a laugh as her friend continued. Her other hand reached down into the depths of the soapy water...

“Hell, I’m the only actress in Hollywood who can’t do a fucking kissing scene without the director closing the set because the crew keeps getting hard-ons and can’t operate the equipment. Every time my nipples get hard, someone around me has an orgasm. And I think it’s even getting worse.”

Bubbles closed her eyes as two fingers slipped into her pussy. “Worse?”

“During one of the test screenings of my latest film, there were actually reports of people masturbating in the audience.”

“Cool!” Bubbles opened one eye and slowly moved one hand towards one of Mandy’s boobs...

“Not fucking cool. It was a damned Disney film!”

Bubble’s finger touched Mandy’s erect nipple, and both women shuddered in unison.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” Bubbles clasped her thighs together hard around her hand. Mandy bit her lower lip and her face contorted, then relaxed as she slid back away from the window, her head slowly sinking into the water of the Jacuzzi.

“Damn, Mandy!” yelled a male voice from somewhere deep within the confines of the suite. “That one ruined my new pair of Calvins! Couldn’t you have at least waited until I was gone!”

* * *

Brad grasped the tiny camera in one hand as he stumbled out of the elevator onto the fourteenth floor landing.

Slowly and quietly he walked down the plush carpet of the main hallway, listening carefully for any sounds. After ten minutes of frustration, he made his way back to the elevator and leaned against the fire extinguisher panel and frowned. “Fucking big shot celebrities don’t even party,” he muttered under his breath.

Finally, he straightened back up and an evil expression that would do the Grinch proud flashed across his face. Running back down the hallway, he stopped in front of the first doorway along the hall to the Presidential Suite. Drawing a deep breath, he suddenly began pounding on the door.

“Open the fuck up, I know you’re in there!” he yelled as loudly as he could, then he laughed and ran down to the next door and quickly repeated the procedure at each and every door from one end of the hallway to the other. Then he ducked into the emergency stairwell at the end of the hallway, readied his camera and opened the door just enough so he could peek down the hallway.

And he waited.

And waited.

After five minutes of waiting, he ran back down to the other end of the hallway and did the same thing again. Only louder.

Down in the security office, Joe’s phone lit up. He looked at his watch. “Starting early tonight, are we?” he chuckled to himself, then picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, Joe, where you goin’ with that gun in your hand?” chuckled the deep male voice on the other end.

“Wassup, slacker?” Joe laughed, “Getting bored answering phones down there?”

“Nah, not tonight, rookie. We got some drunken fratboy on fourteen running up and down the hallway pounding on the doors.”

“No one up there but the movie star, right?”

“Mostly. But Jane’s been putting some of the models up there too, a bit further down the hallway. Evidently one of them’s a diva who gets cranky if she doesn’t get her beauty sleep. Raises a different kind of hell every five minutes.”

“I’m on it.”

“Should I call Jane?”

“Fuck no, I don’t need her walkin’ on me,” Joe snorted. “But if the big shot movie star complains, you might want to give Tawana a call. I promised her I’d clue her in if I had to go up there.”

“Will do. That’s one fucking MILF I’d do in a heartbeat. Rented her last flick and popped a fucking woody that even lasted through the credits.”

“Aw, damn, Phil, not you too,” Joe shook his head.

“Really, you ought to...”

“Oh, fuck that, I’ll get you an autograph or somethin’.”

“Damn straight, you better.”

Joe hung up the phone, grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed to the service elevator. “Fucking white woman probably don’t even have a butt on her,” he muttered to himself as he pushed the button for the fourteenth floor.

* * *

“Get out!” Bubbles closed one eye as she brushed out Mandy’s longish red hair and stared at the other woman’s reflection in the full-length mirror.

“No, seriously, my manager arranges it every time I stay in a hotel.”

Bubbles idly scratched an itch underneath her bare breast. “No wonder all the supermarket rags, like, call you a diva.”

“Makes me feel kind of like a superhero with a secret identity.” Mandy giggled. “The rest of the world thinks Amanda Tuck gets a whole hotel floor to herself because she’s rich and spoiled and only the rare few know the real truth!” She took a deep breath and half-smiled. “Maybe I ought to see if my agent can get me a part in the next X-Men movie!” she laughed.

“That would be SO fucking cool!” Bubbles jumped up on her toes as she pulled Mandy’s hair into a tail. “I always, you know, wondered what the metal guy would, like, look like with a hard on,” she giggled. “Or maybe you could, like, have someone write your own superhero movie!”

Mandy chuckled as she wiggled her fingers in front of the mirror. “I could foil terrorists by playing with myself and all the evildoers would all start humping each other!”

“Hmm,” Bubbles mused, “I think I already saw an anime like that.”

Mandy huffed and balled her hands into fists. “Hrmph. Probably couldn’t get it by the ratings board anyway.”

“Hey, how ‘bout you, like, thumb your clittie and have the ratings people start humping each other!”

Mandy gave her a high five. “Damn, girlfriend, you’re evil!”

“That’s only ‘cause I got the BEST teacher!” Bubbles laughed.

With that, Amanda Tuck sullenly slid back into her chair. Her shoulders sagged slightly. “Part of me really...hoped he’d come with you,” she whispered, softly.

Bubbles finished twisting her friend’s hair and grabbed a hair band off a nearby table. “He said something about even the devil needing a vacation,” she answered under her breath.

The two of them stared into the mirror for a moment in silence, as if waiting for something. Finally, Bubbles forced a smile. “Hey, there, all done.” She stood back a bit. “I don’t know too many women who can, like, pull off long red hair.”

Mandy stood up and put her hand to the back of her head. “Every time I try cutting it, I can’t seem to bring myself to do it.”

Bubbles started to say something, then stopped.

“What?” The older woman turned around.

The little girl woman turned to look out into the darkness past the balcony window. “Nothing.”

“For a lawyer, you aren’t a very good liar,” Mandy smiled and put her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she joined her in staring out the window.

“Bandy talked about your hair, you know, when we saw your last movie, like, that’s the only thing he liked,” Bubbles sniffed.

Mandy bent down and kissed the back of her head. “It’s okay, girlfriend, it’s like I expected it.” She wrapped her arms around the girl. “I think back to those days as a cop all the time. Growing up, all I wanted to be was a movie star. Marilyn. Greta Garbo. I’d dress up in front of a mirror and leave lipstick marks on the glass.”

“Still...”

The older woman twirled Bubbles around and struck a naked pose in front of the mirror, her magnificent breasts thrust out and her waist twisted at just exactly the perfect angle. “No, you don’t understand. Not just a movie star, THE movie star.” Bubbles felt her hand inching slowly downward once again as Mandy changed poses, each one more...primal than the last. “The kind of woman who blew men vulgar kisses and watched them fall all over themselves to get to her.”

“And here I am, thirty-six years old, come from nowhere, twenty-million dollars a film.” Bubbles walked backwards slowly until she felt the bed spreading behind her, her fingers moving over her body as if they were each driven by their own little clitties, pulsing with each word from the mouth of the sexual battery moving in front of her. “I turn down a dozen offers for magazine covers every single day. All I have to do is smile and men who have not had erections in thirty fucking years cum in their pants.”

Spinning on her heels, Amanda Tuck brought one hand to her breast and ran the other slowly, seductively across her forehead towards her oh-so perfect hairline. “I’m better than fucking Viagra.”

Bubbles laid back on the bed and closed her eyes, basking in the raw feeling sweeping over her. She clenched her teeth and balled her hands into fists, fighting the urge to bring herself to climax, hoping instead...

Mandy laughed and brought her finger down slowly over her own stomach. “Can Viagra do THIS?” She grinned and tossed her head back and tweaked a nipple, laughing as she watched Bubbles convulse on the bed, her hands still balled up at her sides.

“Fucking...cool!” Bubbles chirped, and somehow managed to avoid biting her own tongue in the process. And she came again.

“Geez,” Mandy sighed as she plopped down on the bed beside her. “You’re just too damned easy.”

Bubbles giggled and came again, her hands moving behind her head to cradle it even as her chest flushed and her legs tensed up.

“You, like...say that like it’s a...bad thing.”

* * *

Heather tossed from side to side in her bed, the silky bed sheets long since gathered to one side, and the down comforter lay partly on the carpet. The black hose that ran two-thirds the way up both legs glistened with perspiration and her dark hair swept from side to side as she slid back and forth.

“Kurt,” she moaned softly, and her fingers opened and closed around the edges of the feathered pillows.

One bed over, Debbie was playfully purring in her sleep as cases upon glass cases of diamond earrings and emerald necklaces stretched before her eyes, running well past the horizon and into the ruby skies.

Between the two beds, one the night stand, the still-open bottle of pills sat half-empty. The thermostat kicked on the air-conditioner and the breathy moans and hums were lost for a moment amidst the steady buzz of the fan pushing new air into the room. For a short while, anyway...

“Open the fuck up, I know you’re in there!”

The heavy door muffled the masculine voice a bit, but the pounding shook the glass window on the other side of the room. Heather lay silent for a moment. “Kurt?” she asked, her voice still muffled, the words rising up from some part of her brain that still worked.

Stalking silently down the hallway on the fourteenth floor, Joe grinned in anticipation, very much feeling like a cat following a wounded bird. He loved his job and busting drunken guests was one of the reasons why. His dick began to harden in his trousers. Slowly approaching the hallway corner towards the Presidential Suite, he stopped to listen. His grin slowly melted as the moments of silence piled upon each other until finally he gave a silent sigh and turned the corner.

Nothing.

At the far end of the hallway, the door to the stairwell closed quickly and without a sound. Brad caught his breath and instinctively covered his mouth when he felt the fermented air rising up his esophagus. He smiled despite it all and one of his hands moved down to feel the front of his jeans. Damn, this was exciting. Most of the time the booze made it go away.

Bubbles was staring at the air vent in the corner of the suite. “So, what’s, like, the story behind Johnny?”

“Oh, he’s my experiment,” Mandy giggled. “Gay as the year is long. I take him with me everywhere, because he’s the only person I’ve met who can get all the way through a massage without melting into a puddle of goo.”

“Wow!” Bubbles laughed. “That’s intense.”

Mandy closed her eyes. “Pity eunuchs don’t advertise in the Yellow Pages.”

Bubbles started to laugh, then realized that maybe she wasn’t making a joke. The two lay there in silence for a few minutes.

“Hey,” Mandy broke the quiet, “did I tell you I bought a yacht and learned to sail?”

“Cool.”

“The best investment I ever made,” the older woman mused. “So relaxing. I can go miles out into the Pacific and do whatever the hell I want to without having to worry about anyone being anywhere around.”

“That’s...great,” Bubbles’ voice trailed off and she propped her head up on an elbow. “I gotta admit I was, well, you know...jealous...at first.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a really interesting life.” Mandy sighed. “Just...complicated.”

Bubbles lay there and stared at her for a moment. “Hey, I got an idea.” She sat up on the bed. “You say that there’s no one else around now, right?”

“Shouldn’t be.”

The small blonde lay down on her belly and slid down the bedspread towards Mandy’s feet. “I want to, like, conduct an experiment of my very own.” She turned her head to look back up at the movie star and ran her tongue slowly over her upper lip.

Mandy’s eyes shot open as she felt a wetness on her knee. “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.”

“I want to see how long I can go before I, like, melt into a puddle of goo,” Bubbles giggled, as she started running her lips across the inside of Mandy’s thighs...

* * *

Joe stood in the hallway outside the large suite, his hands firmly on his hips, and stared down at the tent in his pants. “Okay, you,” he said to himself, “where’d the hell you come from and where were you when I needed you LAST night.” He was just about to stalk off back down the hall to the elevator when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

“Kurt?” a frail voice whispered, and Joe wheeled around to see a door slowly opening a few yards down the hallway. Straightening up, he self-consciously moved against one wall and adjusted himself inside his pants. “Kurt, is that you?” the voice repeated, a bit louder now.

Cautiously, he walked down the hallway towards the open door, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that was halfway in and halfway out of the room...

And suddenly he froze. His whole two weeks of union training didn’t include this. He quickly moved his hand up to snap his jaw back into place. Then he blinked both eyes and shook his head. Standing in the door, staring out at pretty much nothing, was what he assumed was one of the models in house for the fashion show in the morning. She was certainly dressed for it.

Or not dressed for it.

Five-foot nine from the carpet up, he guessed, though his eyes got stuck momentarily at the three and four foot marks. Wearing nothing but a pair of black hose and garters. One hand on the door, one hand...there. Moaning softly. Eyes open, but fixated on something only she could see. He swallowed hard and looked around for the hidden camera. “This has GOT to be some kind of test for the rookie,” he said out loud.

“Kurt?” she moaned again, and her fingers...twitched. And not the ones on the door. “Kurt, I need you sooooo bad...” Her words were slurred, her long dark hair hanging wet and straight down behind her. Joe instinctively backed away but suddenly felt the rush down there he usually only felt after one of Bernice’s absolutely amazing blow jobs. His eyes blurred up and his chest felt like it was going to explode.

Joe had memory flashes of all things, Red Fox’s old TV show he used to watch as a kid. “I’m coming, Elizabeth!” Or was it cumming? Whatever was coming, his knees were going. Then, as quickly as it came, the feeling passed and he took several really deep breaths. In the doorway in front of him, the supermodel had fallen to her knees and sweat was plainly, visibly running down both cheeks now.

“Ohhh, KURT!” she shuddered, louder now and looked as if she was going to topple over at any time. Joe gathered himself and moved to her, waving his hand in front of her face, trying his best not to give into the temptation of his first, second AND third thoughts.

“MIss?” he ventured softly, then louder when he got no reaction from either the waves or the whispers. “Miss?” Cautiously, he placed a hand on her shoulder and bent down to stoop in front of her. “Miss?” he repeated. “Anyone there?” Her eyes continued to stare off into a world he couldn’t see.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped as his chest tightened again and his dick suddenly felt like it wanted to rip its way out of his shorts. His brain cried “I need this job, I need this job, I need this job,” over and over again, followed quickly by “Bernice is gonna KILL me.”

“Kurt!” she moaned and his hands didn’t offer a whole lot of resistance as her free arm wrapped itself around his neck and the softer parts of her face drove itself against his, covering his mouth with sloppy wetness. “Oh, fuck me, Kurt, please? Fuck.”

Joe felt his brain come up for one last gasp of air. “How much can it hurt to be Kurt for an hour or so?” Then it promptly went under.

Down at the end of the hallway, Brad heard a door slam. “Damn,” he thought as he moved his hand from his cock just long enough to peek back out of the stairwell door into the now-empty hall. “Fuck that,” he gasped and dropped his camera so he could use both hands.

* * *

“What do you mean he took a noise complaint without informing me?” Jane Thomas was not a happy manager.

On the other end of the phone in the dispatch office, Phil was busy rolling his eyes and making goofy faces as Tucker was doing his best to keep from laughing as he listened in. “Sorry, Ma’am, we just didn’t think...”

“That’s your problem, Phil, you DON’T think!” she fumed, tugging at the bottom of her blue top. “I told you that any complaints from the fourteenth floor needed to go through me.”

“Sorry.” He stuck out his tongue and rolled it around the receiver. Tucker covered his mouth, but almost lost liquid through his nose anyway.

“Just log it in,” Jane said as she grabbed her suit jacket off the back of her chair, “I need to go up there and document it.”

“By your command!” Phil blurted out in a robot voice as he slammed the phone down.

Tucker finally blew the cap off the volcano. “Bwahahaha, what a fucking bitch!”

“Yeah, if she spent less time watching soaps and more at Anger Management or Weight Watchers, maybe she wouldn’t still be forty and single.”

The two of them looked at each other for a moment. “Yeah, right!” they said at exactly the same time, then spent the next minute in fits of laughter.

Tucker adjusted his name tag. “Oh, well, I think I’ll go up there and watch the fireworks,” he said with a smile as he walked to the door. “I’d hate to see us lose another overnight security guy.”

“Yeah,” Phil said as he reached over to answer another phone call, “I feel for the guy. I know what it’s like to be out of a job for pissy reasons.”

As Tucker started to leave the dispatch center, he looked back at Phil. “Hey, Phil, you got your camera with you?”

“Sure,” he replied. “You thinking of becoming a paparazzi?” he laughed.

Tucker shrugged. “Never know when you might get lucky.”

Phil opened a drawer in his desk, fished out a small digital camera and tossed it to his buddy. “Hey, if you sell it on Ebay, remember who gave it to ya,” he laughed.

“That depends on what she’s wearing,” Tucker grinned and quickly darted out of the office.

Bubbles managed to shake her head once, but it didn’t help much. Tried to see how long she could hold her breath, but started panting again before she could even get to one. Her eyes were all blurry on the few occasions she could get them open. Nine fingers felt wet right down to the bone. The tenth was probably wet as well, but she couldn’t even feel it anymore. Her legs lay mostly off the bed now and she couldn’t feel any of her toes.

Mandy raised her own head up, grabbed another pillow with one hand and shoved it underneath so she could get a better look at what was left of her little friend down there between her thighs. “Say Uncle?” she grinned as she parted herself even wider with the other hand.

Bubbles opened one eye. Slid one hand slowly across the wet sheets and found her fingers just long enough to grip at as much of the linen as she could. Then she crawled the fingers of her other hand on the other side of the bed and did likewise. Took one more breath. And pulled with all her might until she was again within striking distance of her target, her own belly and mound and thighs melted so far into the sheets that they moved with her as if a part of her.

“Just...getting...started,” she breathed, and dropped her head between Mandy’s open fingers.

Mandy shuddered as she felt yet another orgasm flow through the both of them. “Masochist.”

“Sadist,” Bubbles moaned in defiance. And flicked her tongue again.

Joe collapsed from his knees, his back landing hard against the bed. His dick pulsed in yet another attempt to shoot, but he’d long since run out of ammo. He held his head in his hand and swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath after the orgasm. Fourth? Fifth? He couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think.

“Oh, fuck...Kurt,” Heather moaned as she laid her head against his chest, her arm went limp and her fingers fell from her pussy, sliding across her hose until they lay on the carpet like five little painted soldiers. Defeated. Her other hand slid desperately down his uniform shirt and naked stomach to try and grip his dick again, but it also gave out and fell to rest on the open belt of his pants, which were now bunched up around his knees.

Her eyelids closed over her unfocused pupils, taking in the swirling dots, the blurs and squiggles and dark and light clouds of dream matter that we all see when we no longer...see. Her lips curled into the smile of the babe in the crib when the lights go out at night. Whatever part of her brain that was left tried once more to get either hand to scratch that itch that had never gone away, but very soon it too lost the fight.

Joe raised his head to the heavens, but his eyes could only see as far as the dark ceiling of Room #1433. He finally got his mind back enough to think about...things. Strange things. Things only a hotel security guard might think at times like this. Looking down at Heather asleep on his chest he once again felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. Even numbers are kings, odd numbers are doubles...

He felt fingers running through his hair as his dick tried once again to shoot. “Fuuuuuuuck...”

* * *

“Fuck!” Jane muttered under her breath as she exited the guest elevator on the fourteenth floor. “I knew they shouldn’t have given ME the rookie. The fuckers all seem to think this place shuts down after eleven.”

Adjusting her top once again, she stepped out of the tile of the landing out into the carpeted hallway. She ran her hands down across the butt of her long skirt to smooth out the wrinkles, then ran her hands underneath her hairline to pull stray strands of her dirty blonde hair out of the back of her blouse collar, then instinctively bent down and dropped her hands to pull up the part of her hose that had gravitated down around her ankles. And started to walk down the hallway towards the wing with the Presidential Suite.

And stopped. She stared down at her ample chest to make sure her nipples weren’t visible through the thick dark material of her jacket top. That would be...unprofessional? “More like impossible,” she whispered to herself, suddenly wondering why she was even thinking about it. She reached down to pull up the edges of her skirt to make sure the wetness wasn’t showing.

“Damn, Jane Thomas, you are losing your fucking mind,” she rolled her eyes and started down the corridor again.

And stopped. She looked around to make sure no one was in the hallway, then cautiously reached down into her skirt to feel herself to make sure the wetness wasn’t moving down her leg, then pulled it back out once she was satisfied that it was confined to where it was...supposed to be? Good thing I keep extra underwear in my locker, she thought, as she brought her fingers up to her nose. “God, I fucking need a boyfriend,” she sighed as she looked around for something to wipe her fingers on.

Not seeing anything convenient nearby, she shrugged and slowly licked them until she was absolutely certain they were presentable. Only then did she turn the corner towards the Presidential Suite to look for her errant security officer.

In the stairwell, Brad grunted and came once more, the camera again fell from his hand onto the cement staircase, this time bouncing down several steps until it came to rest half a flight down. “FUCK!” he groaned and rose to his feet to try and retrieve it, only to lose his balance and fall back fully against the stairwell door. The door suddenly flew open and the young man staggered back onto the hallway carpet, trying in vain to grab hold of the either the door itself or the frame. Failing to do either, he found himself rolling on the carpet, his pants and shorts bunched up around his ankles and his cock and balls swinging free for all the world to see.

Jane Thomas blinked to clear her vision. Then blinked again. “What the fuck?!”

Brad lay there moaning in a peculiar mixture of pleasure and pain. His cock stood straight out, waving back and forth in the cool air flowing from the vent above the stairwell door. He brought both hands to his head and slapped himself lightly on the both cheeks in a futile attempt to try and regain control of himself.

Jane stood there staring for a moment, then her professional training took hold and she started walking quickly down the corridor towards the coed laying on the carpet at the other end of the hall. “Sir!” she said firmly. “Are you hurt?!” As she reached the Presidential Suite, she paused for a moment, her ears detecting what sounded suspiciously like a feminine scream. Suddenly, her knees buckled and she grabbed at the door handle of the Suite to keep from falling. “Whaa...?”

As the orgasm shot through her, she abruptly bent over, slid down the door frame and fell to her knees. She heard her skirt rip around the seam of the zipper in the back as she fell on her belly on the carpet. “Oh, godohgodoh...” she heard herself moan as she felt her legs tense up and her hose tore around her knees as they rubbed violently across the carpeting. Lying there for a moment, she finally caught her breath and raised her head enough to look around.

The young man lay still a few yards away at the entrance to the stairway, unmoving except for an occasional deep breath and facial twitch. She managed to find the strength to raise up to her knees and bent around to look the back of her skirt. Sure enough, the fabric had torn along the zipper from her waist down halfway to her ass. “Fuck,” she moaned. “Just what I fucking need right now.”

Staggering to her feet, she looked down to examine her hose. “Fuck,” she repeated as her fingers probed the two huge runs in the material. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Taking a deep breath, she moved towards the young man laying prone at the end of the hallway, her eyes moving back and forth between his face and... “Fuck,” she said again.

Tucker felt his cock twitch in his trousers as he exited the service elevator on the fourteenth floor. “Okay, you,” he grinned as he looked down at his crotch, “behave.” Laughing, he opened the door from the landing to the hallway and looked around. “Damn, Joe,” he whispered to himself, “I hope I get to you before she does.”

Listening intently as he shuffled down the hallway towards the suites, he glanced down at his crotch yet again. “Damn,” he chuckled, “it’s not THAT exciting. Save it until someone like Lindsey Lohan checks in...” Not hearing anything out of the ordinary, he rounded the corner to the Presidential Suite...

And stopped cold.

One hand grabbed at his crotch and the other grabbed for the wallpaper covering the corner of the hallway and he quickly darted back around the corner. “God fucking DAMN!” he blurted, then quickly covered his mouth with one hand. He couldn’t decide whether to laugh or throw up, so he settled for just standing there trying his best to convince himself he didn’t see what he thought he saw. Slowly, cautiously, he peeked back around the corner, then quickly pulled his head back around. “Unfuckingbelieavable,” he muttered to himself.

Slowly, he crept back to the elevator landing and looked down the hallway in the other direction. Empty. He ran one hand down to his zipper and released his cock. “I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this,” he said to himself as he caught his breath and skulked back to the corner and peeked back down the hallway towards the Presidential Suite.

Jane Thomas, overnight manager and fat bitch that absolutely no one liked, was on her knees on the far end of the corridor by the stairwell, her skirt down at her knees, and she was bending over some half-naked guy laying on the ground. From where he stood, all Tucker could really see was her huge white ass covered by what must have been the largest size pantyhose available in retail outlets.

But it was enough. He slid out the camera and checked the settings carefully, knowing he might only get one shot.

“Damn,” he cursed at his throbbing cock as he tried to adjust the settings with one hand. “Now cut that out, dammit! That’s not funny,” he fumed beneath his breath as his body seemed to be fighting with his brain. Bending back around the corner, he tried to focus the viewfinder and adjust the zoom to get the best shot...

...and cringed when the flash went off. “Fuck, fuck,” he thought as he pulled back around the corner. “I’m so fucking fired.” He fell to his knees as he continued to stroke his cock as quickly as he could ever remember. He struggled to focus on the digital screen on the back of the camera to see if the picture took. “What the HELL is the matter with you, man?” he whispered just before he shot all over the floor, the drops of white looking a great deal like mayo against the repeating colored pattern of the carpet.

“Damn,” he sighed to himself as he studied the digital picture. At the last second, his hand must have twitched, because all he got was a fairly clear picture of the “EXIT” sign above the stairway. “Fuck.”

On the other hand, he thought, she’s not down here ripping me a new one, so she must not have seen the flash. He wiped a few drops of cum from his hand onto the wallpaper and reset the camera for another shot. “Damn,” he mused, “what’s with you tonight?” he said to his cock as he noticed it hadn’t gone down. “Unreal.”

Slowly, he looked back around the corner, remembering to hold the camera steady with both hands. “Goddamn,” he blurted out again, but this time he didn’t even bother trying to cover his mouth. Jane had moved over the head of the unknown guy at the end of the hallway. She had one hand inside her pantyhose and the other was busy holding his cock steady as she moved it in and out of her mouth in a steady motion.

Tucker flipped off the flash and slowly pushed down on the button to snap the picture. Giggling like a maniac, he ducked back around the corner to see how it’d come out. “Yes!” he laughed as he watched the dark screen flash to life with something that was certain to be a hot hit on the hotel’s networked email system. “Take that you fucking bitch,” he snickered as one hand again reached down for his throbbing manhood. As he stroked, he thought of all the nasty things he ever thought of doing to Miss Jane Tucker, all the times she humiliated him and the rest of the staff...

“Shit,” he smiled as he came again, his hand slicking up with the whiteness as it slowly ebbed out. “Twice in three minutes, gotta be a record.”

At the other end of the hallway, Jane Thomas felt herself shudder once again as she ran her tongue across the young man’s slit and down around and under his fleshy helmet. “Fuck,” she whispered yet again, her breath hot from what must have been her fourth or fifth orgasm. Her hand once again wrapped itself lightly around his shaft and tried to coax it back to life.

Only this time it wasn’t working. She dug her fingers deeper into her pussy, reaching her index finger underneath to tickle her favorite spot to try and keep what was left of her mind off of the fact that her mouth now swallowing his limp cock whole. “Fuck,” she cried again and her lips renewed her effort to get him to rise up.

Her mouth kept working at it’s impossible task, but she brought her hand up and ran it under her top and under the hard fabric of her bra. Her nipples were itching and she hadn’t been able to scratch, so intent was she on maintaining his erection. “Fuck,” she cried again, this time much louder, as she crawled on top of him to attack his face with hers. “Wake up,” she pleaded as she ran her lips across his cheek. “Please?”

“Please?”

It was familiar and came from behind her. “I can’t remember the last time I heard you say that,” it laughed.

Instinctively, she curled herself up into a ball, taking her hand out of her top and moving it to her face. She tried to answer, but didn’t have the strength. “But I figure we’ll be hearing it a lot more in the future.”

She looked up at him through blurry eyes and something deep down inside, something fairly powerful rose through her mind and bubbled to the surface. “Tucker?” She cleared her throat. “Go..back...downstairs.”

He smiled and snapped another picture. “You really are a mess, Jane, though you’ll look better in this one than you did in the last four,” he laughed.

She closed her eyes. Her fingers stopped, but the emotional waves sweeping her this way and that wouldn’t obey. She came again. Hard.

“Ooh, that’ll make a GREAT one!” Tucker snorted loudly, then suddenly dropped the camera, his face contorting and his legs turning to sand. Without a sound, he fell on his ass on the carpet and lay there gasping and twitching as a slow muffled moan from far away filled the hallway.

* * *

Joe somehow managed to open his eyes and they slowly adjusted to the darkness. He could hear the headboard of the bed as it gave a creak and he felt his butt move up and down into the plush of the thick mattress. “Damn!” His breath whistled through his teeth as he watched her mass of red hair fly this way and that as the mysterious woman bounced up and down on him. “You go girl.” He tried to laugh, but couldn’t manage it.

Her eyes looked to be as blank as those of the last one, but at least this one could say something other than “Kurt,” he thought. At this moment, in fact, she was obviously reliving some old high school cheerleading moment.

“Two...four...six...eight...” she whispered between gasps for air, her breasts bouncing just a half second behind the rest of her as they moved beneath her white nightshirt... “who do we...appreciate?”

“I know the answer to that one,” Joe chuckled to himself. “I just hope I don’t blank out again so I can remember it.”

At that moment, Debbie leaned forward and two strands of her hair fell into Joe’s mouth, causing him to use what little energy he could muster to turn his head to one side. He managed to move a hand up to his mouth but the moment he grabbed a strand, she lifted back up again and it snagged and broke. She abruptly stopped bouncing and moved an arm up to the side of her face.

“Gee...Tom,” she mumbled, and her eyes closed. “I think...you’re...fucking...gorgeous.”

Joe sighed, but moved his hand up to pinch one of her nipples through the thin dampness of the shirt while she was still. She smiled and started rocking again, but at a much slower pace. “Tom, can...you do me a...favor?” Her words coincided perfectly with her movements and she punctuated the sentence with a tight squeeze on his dick exactly at the question mark.

Joe’s voice raised an octave. “Anything,” he squeaked, hoping desperately for an exclamation point.

“Say it,” she grinned and she started moving faster. Her eyes opened and she stared down right through him.

He exhaled slowly and rolled his eyes, trying desperately to figure out this particularly befuddling riddle. Tom...Tom, what would a Tom say with a young, vibrant red-haired zombiefied vixen riding up and down on his dick. “You first,” he whispered.

“Oh, don’t...tease me, Tom...” She rocked her head back and forth like a blind woman. Joe had sudden flashes of Stevie Wonder, but tried he level best to get that particular vision out of his head. “You’re getting me...so fucking...hot, Tom.” She quickened the pace again. Joe swallowed hard and found his body moving along with hers, somehow finding the strength from somewhere.

“Uh, I love you,” Joe ventured, cautiously.

“Oh, really...Tom...I’m not that...naive.” She increased her rhythm again. “Just say it.”

Joe felt that familiar feeling swelling up again as she slowly slid her knees forward slightly, picking herself up higher on the bed. “Uh, You’re the...best?” It was more a question than a statement.

She stopped for a moment and moved both her hands down onto his chest, grabbing for as much hair as she could get, then started moving again. Joe swallowed hard. “What would Nicole think?” she frowned. “Just say it...please?”

Joe looked down at her hands, then felt his chest tingling both from outside and inside. As she rocked more quickly now, he felt the tender skin around his nipples aching from the way her fingers were wrapping and pulling at his hair. At the same time, he could feel his dick tensing again and the now all too familiar throb moving up from deep inside. Her pussy was sliding all the way up and down his entire length now, the sucking sounds of sloppy sex totally overwhelming every other sound except one.

“Toooooooommmmmmm?” She was breathing very heavily now and she let go of his chest with one hand to wipe the hair from her empty eyes. “Pleeeeeassse?” And she came almost completely off him, then back down firmly.

“Ooooooh, fuck me,” Joe managed to laugh and knock his fist against his forehead. “Fuck me,” he whispered again, then took one extremely deep breath, and steadied himself on the bed beneath her.

“Show me the money!”

He felt the hairs on his chest all explode about the same time his dick did. The animal on top of him literally howled like a wolf as she ripped and clawed at him, her hips stopped moving and her thighs squeezed his waist so hard they lifted him up off the bed a few inches before she shuddered for a few seconds, then fell back on top of him, her hair once again covering his face in a sweaty, tangled mess.

This time he didn’t even have the strength to spit out the few that found their way into his mouth...

For a moment all was silent and he thought he heard the air-conditioner kick back on. She was muttering incoherently in his ear now as she rubbed her face back and forth against his, but he distinctly heard the last.

“Again...”

His last thought before he passed out yet again was how he used to brag to all the other kids about how many times he could get it up.

Amanda Tuck smiled contentedly as she sat up on her bed to look down at the limp body of the tiny woman resting her unconscious head between the older woman’s tired thighs. Slowly she got up on her knees in the bed and turned Bubbles over, sliding her up and across the sheets until her little blond pigtails rested on the pile of pillows next to hers.

“You are certainly a piece of work, girlfriend,” she whispered as she lay back down beside her and kissed one of her cherry-red cheeks lightly. “This is one of those vacations I’ll need a vacation to recover from.”

She lightly moved her fingers down across the smaller woman’s neck, down over her still-engorged nipples until she rested them, openhanded on the girl’s stomach. With her other hand, she slowly worked at the pigtails, releasing the strands from their bonds one after the other, finally curling them all up and around her face until they framed it to her satisfaction. Then she leaned over and adjusted her head just right on the pillows, humming softly to herself all the while.

“Perfect,” she sighed as she sat back and examined the results of her efforts. “God, Barbara Kramer, you are one SEXY piece of work.”

Then she leaned back on her pile of pillows and moved her hands back to her own pussy as she savored every breath, yawn and movement of the sleeping woman.

* * *

Jane Thomas opened her eyes to find her fingers in her mouth. Tasting herself. “Oh, God,” she moaned. It won’t stop. Why won’t it stop? Quickly, her other hand dropped back down inside the front of her hose...

Behind her, leaning against the wall, Tucker Simmons dropped his camera. He shook his head and felt the wet spot in his pants. He shook his head again. In front of him, Jane was crouched over, her huge ass two feet from his face, moaning uncontrollably. He was rock hard. Again. He slapped himself to try and get the thoughts out of his head. Turned around to look down the hallway, then back at her ass...

Then back down the hallway. He’d been here a long time. Longer than her. But she was the GM’s pet. But that swelled head didn’t know what she was really like. Not like the rest of them. With a word she could have him fired. The working part of his brain told him to run.

Instead, he found his hand reaching into his pants and pulling it out... “Fuck it,” he blurted. “Just fuck it.”

Jane bowed her head and stared at the young man’s limp form on the carpet in front of her. “Why won’t it just go away?” she whimpered. And slid a second finger inside...

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that,” she heard the devil’s voice behind her. “A fucking fat ass bitch!” She swallowed hard and tried not to look at the limp cock in front of her. Closed her eyes. Pinched her lids together as tightly as she could.

“You want it, bitch?” She shook her head madly. Heard him moving in front of her. Opened her eyes for just a second.

Tucker hissed as he held it five inches from her face. “Say it, bitch!”

“Fuck...you,” she dropped her head, but her fingers pushed themselves deeper.

He reached around and slapped at her panty-covered ass. “Say it!”

“Fuck...fuck...” she muttered as she flinched away from him. Her offhand went up to cover her eyes.

He moved around and reached under her and yanked her top up, exposing one of her massive boobs. “I’m a fat ass bitch,” he grinned as his fingers reached into her bra and remained caught between fabric and flesh. “Say it.”

“I...” she started, then pulled away again, but not hard enough to dislodge his hand. Her thighs pressed more firmly together and she rose to her knees once again. “I’m...”

“That’s it,” he laughed as he yanked at the bra cup again, smiling and kneading his hand into her as she fell free. He again wiggled himself in front of her. “Go on...?” He noticed the fingers in front of her face part just enough... “What are you?”

“Oh...God...” she moaned as she came again and fell forwards, her hand instinctively lowering from her face to the carpet to brace herself. She could feel him on her back now, his hands slipping down the back of her pantyhose, then underneath her, freeing her other breast. Then on the back of her neck. Then sliding down the crack of her ass. Then on her nipples again. So many hands...

And it wouldn’t go away. Why wouldn’t it go away? She slid a third finger inside herself...

“Say it,” she heard him whisper in her ear. Felt him on her back. Felt him running down her ass. Felt him grab a boob firmly and squeeze it over and over and over... “Say it.”

“I...I’m...I’m...” She dropped her head to the carpet. Closed her eyes and ground her lids into the patterns. Tight as she could. Her ass rose on its own. On its own. “I’m a fat ass bitch,” she spat out the words into the rug.

She felt him running between her thighs now, soaking up her wetness and occasionally rubbing by her furious fingers. Back and forth. Then he was in her ear again. “Louder.”

“Oh, God...” her lips kissed the carpet. She was close again. Again. Her legs opened wider on their own. On their own. “I’m a fat ass bitch,” she managed, between gasps.

Why wouldn’t it go away? A fourth finger. Four. Her thumb reached for her clit and couldn’t miss. They were both about the same size now. She felt him attack her other hole. “Fuck!” she tried to scream, but her lips buried themselves deeper into the carpet instead.

“No, Miss Bitch, you’re not just a fat ass bitch,” she heard him laugh as he pushed into her. “You’re MY fat ass bitch!”

He slapped her ass hard again as he thrust. Then again. Harder. Her ears heard the echoes as they bounced off one wall, then the other. But she couldn’t feel the pain at all anymore. It was totally lost in the other. That wouldn’t go away. Five years of frustration in the bars and libraries, supermarkets and coffee shops, two different churches—it all came to the surface, through every inch of her body, running up and down through every nerve until it settled in one place.

And wouldn’t go away. Her breasts pressed hard against the carpet and her legs gave out, sending her stomach and thighs down to rest on the rug as well. She barely felt him bounce up and down on top of her. All she really felt was her four fingers and that which wouldn’t go away.

Behind her, she heard Tucker give a final cry of pleasure, then fall to the carpet somewhere far, far away. Her thighs rose up on their own, bouncing her bone down against the carpet. And the four fingers. Finally, mercifully, some part of her brain finally gave out, had enough, cried uncle, shut down and her fingers stopped.

She rested there for a few moments, aftershocks rippling up and down through her system. Her thumb once again, almost by accident, found her clit and more a lamb than lion, it was over.

She felt the wetness on her cheek, gave one final cry, and then the rest of her brain shut down.

* * *

Brown hair. Brown eyes, and a nasty stare that could boil water. And a voice to match.

“What the fuck you doin’ in there, wit’ those women, Joe Russell?!”

The sweat trickled off his eyelid and into his eye and burned like a mutherfucker.

Kind of like her voice.

“Nothin’ Baby Girl, nothin’!!!!” Joe shot up in the bed, instinctively shoving the comatose woman off his chest. “Fuck!” His whole body trembled as he looked around for his wife, his chest heaving and his legs shaking. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness again. “Fuuuuuuccccckkkk...” he whined, rubbing his eyes partly to get the burning out, but mostly to erase that picture of her face.

He was just about to breathe a sigh of relief, when he caught the red flash of the digital alarm clock out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuck... I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead...”

He slid his legs off the side of the bed and tried to stand up. And promptly fell onto his knees between the two double beds as his knees collapsed. Arms flailing, his right hand grabbed at the night stand between the beds and caught a corner of it by sheer luck, which kept him from hitting his head against the opposite bed. “Don’t ever, and I mean, EVER, so that again,” he muttered as he pulled himself up off the floor and propped himself up against the bed.

“Whatever the fuck it was you did...?” he blinked and looked around. Little by little, the memories of the past hour or so came back to him as he scanned the room.

His uniform shirt was hanging from one of the bedposts. His trousers were over by the front door. His shorts were...nowhere to be seen. He looked down with one eye to make sure it was still there. Touched it tentatively. “Owowowowowow!!!” he howled in pain. Felt like that time back in junior high when he stuck it in the business end of a vacuum cleaner because Charlie Thomas said it was the bomb.

“Oh, no, Joe Russell, this is not happening.”

He looked at the two women. Debbie was blissfully snoring away, half on and half off the bed. Heather was sprawled out on the carpet. One of her hose had slipped out of her belt and was bunched up around one knee. He sat on the unoccupied bed and put his hands in his head. “Fuck, I am soooo fired.”

Then one eye wandered over to the night stand again and noticed the opened bottle of pills. “Hmm,” he mused. Grabbed it and studied the label. Then looked back at the two women. “Now that’s some strong fucking shit!” Shook out four pills and decided to hold on them to see if they worked on angry wives...

Slowly standing back up, he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. Put the bottle back on the night stand. Walked over to Heather and bent down, picked her up and laid her in her bed. Pulled up the covers...

...and noticed the dried cum on her face. Did his best to wipe as much of it away as he could. “Good thing they didn’t ask for a DNA sample for this job,” he snickered to himself as he bent over to help Debbie back into her bed. And started assembling his uniform.

“Now where the fuck did my damn shorts end up?”

Brad’s eyes slowly opened. Then closed again. Three inches from his face was the largest boob he’d ever seen. Well, except for that porn site he visited last September, anyway.

He moved his head slightly, cautiously, just in case the boob had an angry woman attached to it. He’d certainly run into his share of those. When the boob didn’t move, he decided to make a run for it, make a dash for the emergency exit. If there ever was an emergency, this was it.

But his legs wouldn’t move.

Still staring at that boob, he reached down slowly to pull up his pants. Well, pull them sideways, anyway. By this time, he’d noticed the boob had a buddy. He had sobered up sufficiently to remember that was fairly normal. Unlike having legs that don’t work.

Not waiting to see if he could buckle up his belt, he started squirming on his elbows and knees and hands in an attempt to crawl to the stairs. Being careful not to wake up the boob, of course. Under normal circumstances, he would have rather stuck around and see what kind of a woman the boob was attached to, but these weren’t normal circumstances. She was fat. And he was tired. And sore. And dreadfully embarrassed.

He managed to crawl to the base of the door and reached up to pull himself up by the door handle, all without disturbing the boob. Or the young man laying on the other side of the boob. As he pulled open the door and squeezed around it, he took one last look down the two limp bodies laying at the end of the hallway. And shuddered.

Retrieving his camera, he slid down the stairs, one by one, then two by two, until didn’t stop until he was safely sitting on the ninth floor landing. Only then did he attempt to stand up.

“No more Pabst for you, Brad,” he muttered as he buckled his belt.

Jane Thomas opened one eye, then the other. Her arm rubbed slowly along the carpet until her wristwatch was inches in front of her face. It was easier than raising her head. “Fuck,” she moaned. “No dream.”

She’d only had one hangover before and that was way back in college. Not for lack of trying, mind you, but it was just so damned hard for her to get that drunk. She didn’t remember it being like this. But then, she couldn’t remember drinking earlier tonight either. She tried to rise, only to shudder in pain when her mound moved against the cool carpet. Now, THAT was a hangover of a different sort.

That one she knew.

“Fuck,” she moaned again. “Just kill me now.”

A minute later she focused on her watch again, and it gave her the power to turn onto her back. “Twenty years in the business,” she mumbled. “Twenty years.” She wondered how large her PTO severance check would be. What other hotels in what other cities might be hiring and experienced night manager. “Twenty years.”

Rising to her knees, she noticed Tucker was still passed out a few feet down the hallway. He hadn’t even stepped out of his pants. Then she looked at her own skirt laying there, cast aside sometime during that horror. Her hose was totally ruined, her blouse torn in two places.

But the camera was still there. Lying against the wall. She crawled over to it on her hands and knees. Picked it up. Started to punch up the photos, to erase them. Smash the video card. Smash the whole camera.

Then she came to the one of her ass.

Her fat ass, facing up into the light of the hallway, into the built-in flash. Into the eyes of Tucker Simmons. She looked at the picture one more time, then looked down at him laying there helpless in the hallway. “I’m your fat-ass bitch,” she muttered. “Or someone’s bitch.” She smiled.

Picked up her skirt, her shoes. Cradled the camera tightly in her bosom and reached for the stairway. To the fourth floor. Peeked out. A short run to the exit to the housekeeping landing. Then to the service elevators and to the lockers. With any luck, no one would see her. With any luck.

“I’m certainly DUE some of that,” she sighed.

Tucker Simmons shook his head. “Shit,” he muttered, then louder when he noticed the camera was gone. Then he rolled over on his back, and remembered Jane Thomas’ naked fat ass staring up at him. “Fuck it,” he laughed to himself, “who needs a picture?”

Closed his eyes. There it was, plain as day, with the voice to go along with it. That same voice that reamed him every night about something he needed or forgot to do. “I’m your fat-ass bitch!” He turned onto his side and laughed some more. It helped take his mind off of the fact that his cock hurt like hell every single time he moved. Let her have the camera, he thought, it’ll take a miracle to get that memory out of my head.

Some things are worth getting fired over. He laughed again as he stood up and pulled up his trousers.

Whistling merrily, he sauntered off down the hallway towards the elevators...

Johnny smiled as he threw his arm around the shoulder of his new best friend to help him down the hallway to the suite. “Careful.”

“’sokay...” Tom mumbled... “I’m okay.”

“Man, Spring Break in this town is something else,” the larger man laughed as he inserted his keycard in the door and pushed it open. “Is it always like this?”

“Huh?” Tom muttered as he started to slip on the tile floor of the entrance.

Johnny slid an arm around his waist to prop him up. “Never mind,” he chuckled to himself as he maneuvered the drunken coed into his half of the suite and sat him down on the side of the bed. “Stay here for a sec,” he said as he quickly walked over to check on Mandy.

“Hello,” he said softly as he rapped on the bedroom door. “Hello?”

Not getting a response, he inched the door open and peered into the room. Something inside him started to purr as he surveyed the scene. He took a deep breath and reveled in the softness within. Slowly, cautiously, he tiptoed across the room to the bed and stood over it.

“Nighty night, my little Aphrodite,” he whispered under his breath as he bent down and kissed Mandy gently on the forehead. Then he carefully slid his hands down to the foot of the bed and slowly pulled the down comforter up over the two naked bodies lying arm in arm, blissfully drenched in each other’s memories of the night.

Smiling, he stood there for another few moments. Just staring down. Suddenly, Mandy’s eyelids twitched for a moment and a slight moan managed to escape.

“Damn, girlfriend, you even got impressive dreams...” Johnny mumbled. Grabbing his hard-on through the front of his jeans, he hurried out of her room and across to his.

* * *

The morning sunlight streamed through the cracks in the curtains and it hurt her eyes. The least of her hurts. “Damn,” Heather turned to focus on the bottle of pills on the night stand and reached out an arm. “What the hell...?” she started, then plopped back down in the bed.

The alarm clock on the stand continued to buzz. “Fuck that,” she moaned and laid back down and closed her eyes. She could still see Kurt inside he eyelids. “He’s never gonna fucking believe this,” she muttered, trying to bring back the taste of him. “If I knew you tasted this good,” she smiled and licked her lips.

One bed over, Debbie was staring at her hands, trying her best to remember the events of the night before. Her fingers slowly moved to her pussy, through the finery surrounding it. “I know I shaved last night,” she said to herself. “Where did this fucking hair come from?”

Bubbles dreamt of kittens. Gray fluffy kitties. Black and white fuzzy kitties. Yellow and orange stripy kitties. Wet kitties. Hot kitties. Steamy kitties. Walking all over her body. Sliding against her boobies, crawling between her legs...

“Wake up, silly,” one of the kitties purred.

She reached out a hand to pet it. Opened her eyes. To find someone petting her.

“My eyelids hurt,” she moaned as Mandy ran a soapy sponge across her little neck, wiping away the last of the perspiration from the night’s activities. The slippery bubbles left behind from the sponge rose slowly up and down her chest and arms in a warm and watery, crisscross trail. The hum of the Jacuzzi’s motor purred in her ears. She closed her eyes again, basking in the hot comfort of all the kitties as they licked their way up and down her back with their sandpapery tongues.

She slowly slid back into the water until it reached her neck.

“All right, you,” Mandy chastised as she reached over to adjust the nozzle on the handheld shower attachment. “Time for your hair.”

Mandy hit a button on the side of the tub and the nozzle came to life, shooting streams of hot water this way and that until she finally gained control of it. Bubbles giggled as the sudden sound of rushing water teased her into opening her eyes to take in the sight. Mandy was sitting up in the midst of the hot rushing water, setting her aim...

“Yiyiyaiaiaiaia!” Bubbles jumped to get out of the path of the hot spray as Mandy laughed and tracked her with the nozzle as she dove from one side of the Jacuzzi to the other. “That’s SOOOO not funny!” She finally gave up and slid to the far side of the tub, turning away from her friend as she sprayed her hair and back. Slowly, she felt the spray grow more intense as Mandy inched the nozzle closer. Closer. Bubbles brought her hands up to rub her eyes. “I, like, HATE getting soap in my eyes.”

She took a deep breath and held it as she felt the cool richness of the gel being worked into scalp, fingers pressing their way down one side of her head, then up the other until finally one hand rested on her shoulder while the other teased at her earlobe. “I can’t remember, you know...” she said softly... “the last time anyone else washed my hair.”

“You mean you don’t go to get it done every other day?” Mandy giggled. “I can’t imagine life without Johnny.”

“Oh, geez, you mean he does hair TOO?!” Bubbles huffed. “I am SO jealous.”

Mandy turned the nozzle on low and began to rinse out the lather. “YOU’RE jealous? Hell, how many times did you cum last night?”

“Oh, that,” Bubbles giggled. “I lost count.” She started to turn around, but felt Mandy’s firm hand on her shoulder. “I’ve had tons of practice...”

“I bet,” Mandy laughed as she finally switched off the attachment and placed it on the tile floor of the bathroom. “Have you ever, you know, counted?”

Bubbles turned around and wrapped her hands around her hair and started squeezing. “I tried once, but Bandy kept, like, making me lose track.” She grinned at Mandy. “But last night was the first time I passed out!”

Mandy stared out at the sunlight streaming through the window. “Well, last night was...pretty special for me too.”

“Really?” Bubbles moved behind her and started playing with her hair. “Cool.”

Mandy started to pull away, then hesitated for a moment, then turned around to face her. “I...” she stammered, “I’ve never gone to bed quite that...calm. I can’t really explain it. I laid in bed for almost a half hour just watching you sleep.”

Bubbles just stared at her blankly. “Doesn’t sound like much fun.”

Mandy bent her head over and laid it on Bubble’s shoulder. “I played with myself,” she whispered, nibbling on an ear. “It was, without a doubt, the best orgasm I’ve had since...since the hospital.”

“Wowwwwww...” Bubbles sat there, closed her eyes tightly and just took in the sensation as Mandy’s tongue lapped at her neck.

The older woman put her hand down to her own breast and touched a nipple. “How...how do you feel?” It was a low whisper. Almost inaudible.

“Truth?”

“Of course.”

“Like I want to go back to sleep,” Bubbles smiled and slid back further into the water. “Even my hair hurts.”

Mandy dipped her finger down through the bubbly water and gently slid it inside herself. “And now?”

Bubbles simply lay there, her back against the side of the tub. Her eyelids closed.

“Oh, God...” Mandy moaned as she slid another finger inside. “Fuck, yeah...” she laughed as she bent down and kissed Bubbles lightly on the cheek.

“YES!” She turned violently in the Jacuzzi and threw herself back into the water, her thighs parted wide and both hands splashing like a teen experiencing her very first. “FUCK! YES!”

Bubbles simply lay there, oblivious to the (numerous) celebrations of Amanda Tuck.

Dreaming of kitties.