He watched her from the bed, smoking a cigarette and lying on his back, his head cradled in one arm.
She was tired of the showers. It was a fetish with these guys, she thought. It was like they wanted to just cover her body up with their semen and then watch her standing under the shower and then begin all over again.
The room was the same -- she already had seen it when they were checking in. There was an addition, though. She hadn't noticed it before and thought that perhaps the man had arranged for a plasma TV that sat on a trolley with a VCD player below it. God, had this man recorded what had happened to her? And now he wanted to talk to her. She wondered what the man wanted to ask and why. She also wondered what he was going to do with her now.
Finally, she had shut off the taps and grabbed the towels.
She was toweling her body as fast as possible, impatient to get over with this. She yearned to be back with Tim and maybe they could pretend that this had never happened, though she knew that it was impossible. This trip was going to change their lives.
She wondered whether any other woman in her position would do something different. Fight back? Scream and yell? Spit at the man or try to kick him when she thought his defenses would be down?
No shit, she told herself. The man had made elaborate arrangements and the only way out for her and for that matter for Tim, was to do what the man told her to.
She had to admit that the man and his buddies had given her great orgasms. But that was because she was a healthy woman with needs and she couldn't ignore the way he had handled her. Rape had always repulsed her and she had never understood how a man could possibly attain satisfaction by forcing himself on a woman. Well, she thought, if the man was anything like this one, she now knew.
She remembered the novel that she had read a long time ago. It was about three men who kidnap a well-known actress and rape her for days together. But that novel did not feature gang rape. In the novel, the actress uses her sexual expertise and eventually controls the three men before making her escape.
Perhaps, Sam thought, she would try that. She would think about that if this man really...
"You are dry enough, slut! Come, sit down here." He patted the bed, sitting up and swinging his legs off the edge and she obeyed him, one towel still draped around her waist. It was not a very big towel and it managed to cover her from the top of her hips to just about the top of her breasts.
He grabbed the other towel before she could use it to drape across her shoulders and dropped it in his lap. "Lest I get tempted to tell you to give me head before I get your story," he grinned, covering his penis with the towel.
She sat on the edge of the bed beside him and instead of pulling her towards him, the man shifted closer to her, draping one arm casually across her shoulder.
"You know, Dave has been my cyber pal for well over an year now. He has told me a lot about himself and a lot about whom he considers are very close to him. Of course you and Tim figure in that list as well. Naturally, he gave me a good background about the two of you since you were going to come down here. I am impressed."
She looked into his eyes. He was looking at her mysteriously, a smile on his lips. What is this, she thought? What could Dave have possibly told this man about her and Tim? A part of her froze.
"D-Dave I-is my brother-in-law," she said timidly.
"Stop stuttering like a amateurish whore, Sam," he laughed, sliding his arm down her shoulder and cupping her left breast, which was half covered by the towel. She was seated to his left and he now slid his right hand across her lap and began to draw gentle circles on her exposed thighs. "I want to ask you a few questions. Maybe I'll repeat them to Tim and if the answers are any different, you will regret it. I may ask other questions that may not be common to both of you. It all depends, you know."
"Why do you want to ask questions? Isn't it enough that you have got what you wanted?" she managed to ask him this time without stammering.
"Let's just say I'm interested in knowing the true you," he chuckled, kneading her breast. 'Or better still, maybe, like I said, I want to write about this thing in my memoirs."
She stared at a spot on the ragged carpet and did not speak. He cleared his throat and finally his voice rapped out, "How did you meet Tim?"
She was surprised at this question.
"Let's say I want the history," he told her.
"Well, I met him first when I was freshman at the university. We went to the same college. He was into baseball real big and Dave introduced him to me."
"Dave was married to your sister at that time?" the man asked, pushing the towel down her chest to expose her left breast which he began fondling.
"Yes. I was attracted to Tim from the very first time I had seen him, but he hadn't noticed me before until after Dave introduced us."
"Did you'll fuck immediately thereafter?" the man asked.
She blushed, but wasn't surprised that he had asked the question without any preliminaries. She had understood that part of his psyche.
"N-no," she replied.
"No? Well, I thought that Americans get right to the basics right away. So, what happened?"
She hesitated. From where, she wondered, should she pick up the story? It was obvious what the man wanted to hear. At the same time, she was feeling apprehensive as well. Would he disapprove if she left out something important?
She took the decision abruptly.
"We went around for a week before we -- uh -- we..."
"Fucked?"
"W-well, yes."
"Tell me how it happened. I want it in detail, okay?" he asked, rubbing her nipples and caressing the inside of her thighs. His voice had dropped an octave and was now hoarse. So, she had been right, she thought. This dirty man wanted to hear the sex stuff and that too, she guessed, in graphic details.
"Well, that day we had dinner and he asked me if I could manage a cup of coffee for him when he drove me over to my house."
"You lived alone, then?"
