Bromfields Temptations Ch 12

Synopsis:

Tonight, the girls have gone downtown to try their luck. Jim followed them into the hotel and watched as they picked up their first customers of the night. Meanwhile, someone was standing behind Jim.

Chapter 12: The Virgin Stripper

Su Lin stood behind me, a happy, welcoming smile on her face. She looked good. The form fitting red minidress she wore complemented her honey complexion, vivid makeup and black hair. I invited her to sit down and signalled to the waitress.

"I'm glad to see you again," she said. "Are you going to become one of my regulars?"

"I don't know," I said. "I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"On you," I said. "Did you call the studio?"

"Yes, I did," she replied. "I talked to a woman named Carol. I told her what you said, and she invited us to a party. It sounds pretty wild, I don't know. . ."

"Did you ask Stick?"

"Yes. He was sort of bummed. I guess he figured they wanted a cripple around just to make the place look good in case it got raided or something."

"Is there any way I could talk to him?"

She looked at me for a moment. I tried to guess what she was thinking. Then she said, "I suppose it couldn't hurt. Why don't we get a room and give him a call?"

"This must be a slow night?"

"No, it's early." She gestured around the room at the dozen or so solitary drinkers sitting at scattered tables and the four customers sitting at the bar. "These are traveling salesmen on a tight budget," she said. "The party crowd won't come in until around midnight."

"So you've got some time to kill." I said.

She smiled. "I guess you could put it that way."

I shrugged. My ladies were getting screwed; why shouldn't I? Su Lin would be a hell of an improvement over my right fist. "OK," I said, "I'll be right back."

I went out to the desk and checked in. Then I went back to the bar and told Su Lin the room number.

She nodded. "OK, honey, I'll be right up. I want to tell Bob where I'll be in case another regular wants me."

It was obvious that she still didn't trust me. The part about letting Bob the bellman know where she would be true, but it was for her protection, not because of pending business. I wondered briefly if Louise was also in business with Bob. If not, I was sure she soon would be; Bette, too.

I went up to the room, and took off my jacket, tie, and shoes. Then I stretched out on the double bed to wait for Su Lin. As I lay there, I reflected that my two girls were also stretched out on unknown beds in this or similar hotels nearby.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait long. If she had given me more time to brood, I might very well have pulled up stakes and gone home.

I heard a soft tap on the door, and quickly opened it. Su Lin slipped in and closed the door behind her.

"Jim," she began tentatively, "there are just a couple of things . . ."

At least she remembered my name. But she wasn't yet passing out free samples. I took out my wallet, and handed her a $50 bill. "Is that OK?"

She looked unhappy. Clearly it wasn't what she had expected, but she nodded. "Do you still want to call Stick?" she asked.

"Yes"

"OK." She wrote the number down on a piece of hotel stationary.

I dialed the number.

"Hello?" It was a man's voice.

"Hi," I said, hoping my voice exuded confidence and charm. "Is this Stick?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm the guy who told Su Lin about the movie deal. She said you weren't too hot on the idea, so I thought I'd give you a call and see if I could answer any questions you might have."

"Is she there?"

I coughed to cover my hesitation. How do you answer a question like that? I wrote on the notepad, `Does he know you're here?' Su Lin shrugged. Suddenly, I had another thought about something I should have asked her earlier. "Excuse me, Stick," I said, deliberately making my voice croak. "Some beer just went down my Sunday throat." I made throat clearing sounds as I scribbled on the pad `Does he know you're pregnant?' She nodded.

I decided to play it safe. "I'm OK, now, Stick. Yeh, she's here."

"Tell her to go in the other room. I don't want her to hear this."

"OK," I said, just a minute. I put my hand over the mouth piece and said to Su Lin, "He wants you to go in the bathroom."

I waited five seconds. "OK, Stick. She's gone."

"OK. Now I don't know you, or anything about you; except that my wife is fucking you. That part doesn't bother me much. What does bother me is that she's carrying our baby with her while she supports us doing the only thing she's really good at.

"Every time she walks out the door, she's putting our baby's life on the line. That's the only baby I'm ever going to have. You see what I'm saying? Naturally, I haven't told her any of this; it's a tough enough life for her without me unloading on her. Understand?

"Now, about this movie deal. You got her all excited about that. I sort of like the idea, too. No more heavy tricking, no more late hours. Perfect. Except for one thing." Stick's voice dropped an octave and suddenly became harsh.

"I think that movie stuff is bullshit. I think you guys are just lookin' for a party girl to give you some free tail. You also want a freak over there. That's me, the man who fucks with his tongue. That's why I'm bummed!"

Now I understood why Stick felt bitter. I sympathized more than he knew. It must be a terrible blow to a man's pride to be forced to live on his wife's earnings as a prostitute through, as he saw it, no fault of his own. I wondered what he would have said had he known what I had done to Bette?

"Stick -- do you mind me calling you that? -- I see your point, and I can't say I blame you. In your shoes, I probably wouldn't trust me, either." I paused. "Now, listen. As I understand it, Su Lin talked to Carol Rollins. Carol, her husband, Steve, and I own this movie studio. We are also very active swingers. As a matter of fact, I met them at the Ten/Thirty Club. You know what that is."

"Yeh," he said noncommittally.

"The Rollins live at the studio, which is over in Oregon, out in the country. Every couple of weeks, more or less, they throw a two or three day swing out there. There's lots of fresh air, booze and more good looking, world-class nooky than you can imagine.

"We like to see our prospective talent in action, and the party is one way to do that. There are always the obvious questions, such as, `Can she get along with other people?' `Does she drink too much?' `Is she a doper?' And, of course, there's the $64 question: `Can she act?'

"I don't know your wife very well," I went on, "but she seems friendly."

"I'll say," her husband interjected dryly.

"I've seen her take a drink," I said, "but not much. I don't think she takes dope, does she? And I know for damn sure she's a good actress."

That got a low chuckle from Stick, and a different reaction from Su Lin, who had taken off her dress and bra, and was leaning over, her soft breasts and brown nipples hanging down, as she pulled her panties down, exposing her neatly trimmed bush. When she heard me praise her acting ability, she stuck her tongue out at me. I had touched a nerve.

"Well, maybe you're right," Stick said slowly.

I interrupted him. "Look, just to prove I'm telling the truth, I'm going to take a chance on you guys. I'm going to give Su Lin a personal check for $200. If the party disappoints you, you won't be out anything. In other words, I'm betting $200 you'll show up. On the other hand, if things turn out like I said, you pay the $200 back, your call. What could be fairer than that?"

There was a long pause at the other end while Stick reviewed my offer. At last, he said, "OK; I mean, what the hell? We won't know until we try, will we? When's the next party?"

"A week from Friday," I said.

"OK," he said. "We don't have wheels, but if we can bum a ride, we'll go. I wouldn't mind a little strange stuff, myself."

We hung up, and I turned to a smiling Su Lin. She had stripped the covers off the bed and was laying flat on her back, legs spread, fingers idly petting her trimmed pussy hair and stroking her vulva. "Hurry," she said, "I'm all ready for you."

I stripped off my clothes. Watching her undress while I talked to her husband, had caused my cock to stiffen, especially after all the sexual tension I had experienced earlier in the evening. Waving it at her, I asked, "Where's his raincoat?"

"I make an exception for special friends," she said. "Come here, you wonderful man and shove that great big hard thing into my poor thirsty pussy."

I love it when they talk dirty. So does my cock. At first, I thought she was just in a hurry, but I learned better as she guided me into her depths. My little soldier slid all the way to the bottom as if it was greased with warm butter. Su Lin was more than ready. She was on the edge of an explosive orgasm.

She wrapped her slender legs around my waist. "Lift me and put a pillow under my ass," she said, her black eyes glittering up at me. "I'm going to give you the fuck of your life!"

She started bucking under me, rocking her pelvis back and forth, and from side to side, as I drove my raging sword into the depths of her now somewhat larger belly. "I hope your little pal doesn't mind," I grunted as I strained to shove more and more of myself into her clasping body.

For a few moments, the rhythmic creaking of the bed, the sharp slapping sound caused by our colliding bodies and the slap of my scrotum against her bottom, and random animal grunts from both of us were the only sounds in the room.

She had unwrapped her legs and her knees were bent, her feet flat on the bed for greater leverage as she matched me, lift for thrust, as she struggled to gain the greatest possible sensation from the pounding I was giving her.

"Put my legs on your shoulders," she panted, "I want to shove myself up so you can get your balls inside!"

The sweat was beginning to run down my back and drip on the bed. Su Lin was also slick with perspiration.

I was a madman, determined to skewer that woman on my rampant tumescence. She suddenly stiffened, and an eerie wail began issuing from deep inside her. She threw her arms around her legs and my neck and pulled me tight against her. Then she stopped moving and slightly arched her back. I saw the veins in her neck bulge, and she seemed to be holding her breath. A bright flush spread across her chest, neck and face.

That wail, which had stopped temporarily, began anew, much louder. I felt her contractions begin, and I lost control. Hours of sexual frustration, combined with this recent stimulation, forced squirt after squirt of my seed into her most secret parts.

She continued her involuntary twitching and spasming for another two or three minutes as she came down from that great plateau. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked up at me. "Whew. Let my legs down," she said. Then, more comfortable, she grinned up at me. "Do you think that was an act?"

I was still panting, too. "No, I don't," I gasped, "If it was, the Oscars are going to the wrong people."

"Well, this is fun and all, but I have a living to make. First, though, I've got to take a shower. Get off of me."

I rolled off her leg. She stood up rather shakily. "I need a drink," she said. "Be a love. While I'm in the shower, order a daiquiri for me, would you?"

I ordered two of them. The drinks arrived while she was in the shower, and when she came out, her frosty glass was waiting.

She shook her head. "God, you've made a mess of me. But if you can get me into the movies, even as a porno star, it will be worth it." She patted her belly. "Junior is really beginning to show. Two tricks asked me about it this week. He's terrible for business."

I nodded. "When you get so they can't use you in a movie, there's another job on the set you might be interested in," I said. "They call them `fluff' girls. They fluff up the male actors; they get them hard and keep them that way between takes. It's easy work. All it requires is a sweet personality, strong jaw muscles and a ready hand. Think you could do that?"

"Sure. I'd always rather fuck or blow a friend than a stranger. I'm really looking forward to this."

I almost made the mistake of offering to give Su Lin and Stick a lift to the party, but I remembered, just in time, that she had no way of connecting me to Bette or to `Marta' as she knew her. Thus, if I showed up with either of them in the car, it would have been difficult to explain, especially to an already suspicious Stick.

"You can drive, can't you?" I asked.

"Sure."

"Stick said you guys needed a lift. Why don't you rent a car for the weekend. The studio will pay for it."

"That sounds cool," she said. "Where is this place?"

I drew a little map on hotel stationary. "And here's the phone number in case you get lost. I hope you can make it. Stick is real worried about the baby -- and about you, too, of course -- but the baby can't protect itself."

I took out my checkbook, and briefly explained the promise I had made to Stick. "So here's the check," I said, handing it to her. "This is the earnest money payment that proves my good faith. Cash the check if you like, but don't spend the money yet, because I expect you'll have to pay it back."

Su Lin nodded. "I know," she sighed. "We'll be there."

I don't know when Bette and Louise got in, but the next morning, I peeked in the back bedroom when I got up, and found them asleep in each other's arms. I made it a point to move around the apartment as quietly as possible as I got ready to go to work.

Thursday was a quiet day in the office. My calendar was clear for Friday, so I notified my answering service that I would be out of town until Monday.

When I returned to the apartment, I found the girls unusually subdued. I looked around, but saw no sign of anything unusual. "Why the long faces?" I asked, suddenly fearful of the answer.

Louise spoke up. "This apartment idea may not be so hot after all," she said. "I hate to admit it, but maybe we were asking for trouble."

Oh, God!! I felt a pang like a dull sword passing through my bowels. "Were?" I prompted. "What do you mean?"

"You remember old Mrs. Figgins? The widow with all the cats who lives downstairs?"

"Sure. What about her?"

"Well, Bette and I were coming back from the store, and when we stopped to check the mail box, Mrs. Figgins was there collecting her mail. She knew I'd been away for a while, and she also knew that my sister here," Louise put her arm around Bette's shoulder and gave her an affectionate hug, "had taken care of you while I was gone.

"She took me to one side, out of Bette's hearing, and asked if we were doing major remodeling. `All those men coming and going,' is how she put it, `had stirred up some catty remarks by some of the other tenants -- 'you know how people will talk, dear,'" Louise said, doing a credible job of mimicking the old woman.

"So you told her . . .what?" I asked.

"What the fuck do you think I told her? That we had decided to open a massage parlor? Or, better yet, a whorehouse? I just told her, `thank you very much, we'll have to see how the estimates look,' and let it go at that." Louise's voice had risen slightly as she relived what must have been an embarrassing moment.

"This is what I was trying to tell you," I said.

"I know," Louise said. "It's just so much easier and safer to operate out of your own apartment . . ."

"I hate to keep harping on this," I said, "but there are other ways of making a living."

"And let all this talent go to waste?" Louise grinned at me, patting her crotch. "Bette is even more talented than I," Louise continued, an odd confession coming from her.

"Why?"

"Men prefer younger women," Louise said matter of factly. "Especially younger women with tits like hers."

Louise had a point there. "I don't understand what you're trying to say," I said.

"Well, I busted my ass last night to turn four lousy $50 tricks in that fleabag hotel, and then I had to give half of it to the fucking bellhop," Louise said, "while the Queen of the May, here," Louise gave Bette another hug to take the sting out of her words, "gets invited to a party at the Four Seasons, and tricks half the men in the room at $200 a pop. That's what I mean!"

"Wow," I said. "How many was that?"

"I made $1,200 last night," Bette said modestly.

Oh, oh. I saw trouble coming. Louise could never play second fiddle for long. I had some serious thinking to do about our collective future. But not now.

We shared the couch watching one insipid sitcom after another on TV, each larded with weak sexual innuendo, crude double entendre, and improbable couplings and pairings. When the last of them was over, Bette looked at me. "Those shows make us look good, don't they? At least we give value for the money."

We shared the big bed again, but we were all too tired to be horny. However, sometime during the night -- the clock was on the bedside table on the other side of Louise -- I woke up with a raging erection. A warm pair of lips was stretched around my manhood, reaching for my balls. I put my hands around Bette's face, encouraging her. Without missing a stroke, she reached up and put her finger across my lips. She didn't want me to wake Louise. This was ours.

I lay as quietly as possible while Bette alternatively jacked me with her hand, and sucked. "Come on," she whispered, "I want you to come in my mouth. I've got to get used to it."

An instant fantasy of her sucking an endless line of men came into my mind. Almost immediately, the familiar tightening in my loins and the vise across the small of my back squeezed my vital juice into the tubes leading to my penis, and then into Bette's warm, loving mouth.

"Ahhhh," I gasped, as my boiling seed gushed over Bette's tongue. She swallowed and swallowed. Suddenly, she gagged, and rolling out of bed, she ran for the bathroom, her hand over her mouth. I heard her retching into the toilet.

"Isn't she ever going to get that right?" Louise asked sleepily.

"I don't remember that you were so anxious for me to come in your mouth," I retorted. "Give the girl credit. She's trying."

"You're right," Louise said. "Give me a kiss."

I leaned over and gave her a friendly, not a passionate, kiss. In response, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and pulled me close to her. That's the way we were lying when Bette returned from the bathroom.

I disentangled myself from Louise and reached for Bette. Any girl brave enough to try to learn to swallow my cum certainly deserved a cuddle.

We drifted back to sleep.

I went up to the studio the next day. I was too late to see the shoot that Steve had promised, but I was in time for the meeting. Again, five of us met in the office. This time, I knew everyone there, even though I didn't necessarily know their busi ness, nor, if the truth be known, did I want to know it. Richard and the dangerous one, Carmine, greeted me. Richard was friendly, but Carmine seemed somber.

There was the usual chitchat before Steve called the meeting to order. He looked at me. "Jim, here, had an assignment. Do you want to tell us how it's going?"

His voice was friendly enough, but there was no mistaking the hard look in his eyes.

Mentally cursing the overactive hormones which I liked to think were the cause of my troubles, I said evasively, "Oh, pretty well. These things take time."

Steve wasn't going to let me off that easily. Any doubt I may have had as to whether this meeting was being taped evaporat ed, when he said, "The last time you were here, you gave us an unconditional commitment, even after I offered to release you from your earlier promise. Carol then told you to turn two girls out. Specifically, Bette and Sandy Morrison. Did you do it?"