Hotel Heiress: New Orleans

Holding hands, we began to run again. Fortunately for us, we were no longer in the water. We found a small little trail, partially covered with branches and brush that snapped at our feet and seemingly grabbed our feet. We followed the trail into another part of the bayou. Here the cypress trees grew wild and the sounds of exotic birds could be heard. And God knows what other kind of animal. Further and further we ran, lost in the bayou jungle.

* * * * * * * *

We did not know where we were. Surrounding us were endless cypresses and the vast dark shade they cast. From above, a few streams of golden sunlight came through. From the looks of it, we were as far from the swamp as possible, but not far enough to be near any town or city. Birds sang quietly, the flap of their wing echoing in the air. The earth was no longer wet beneath our feet. Before us, shrouded by tangle vines and shrubs was a tiny cabin made entirely of dark pinewood.

"What in the world –"Ron said.

As we got closer, we noticed the cabin was on a small little knoll. When we drew nearer to the cabin, we saw behind it a panoramic view of the bayou jungle and in the distant background, sugar cane fields and towering above them was a ghostly looking plantation house.

We stood in awe at the sight of it, just standing there, as if no one had ever seen it in years, a plantation house concealed in the bayou, lost in time, long since forgotten. Vines and thorns covered some of its walls.

"That must be an old Creole sugar plantation," Ron said, "and this little house here must be one of many slave quarters."

"Makes sense," I said.

When we opened the wooden door, which was somewhat cracked and dilapidated, we heard a monstrous cry. I screamed. An alligator that did no look like Hugo leapt into the air and attacked Ron, pinning him down to the ground. It was the alligator from Hell, fierce, savage, blood-thirsty. It held Ron in its claws, and Ron, beneath its weight, struggled to break free, kicking in the dust. All I could do was scream as I watched horror.

Ron said he had played football and it showed. His body was quite strong despite his lean physique. He was working muscles he probably hadn't worked in a long time as he wrestled the alligator on the ground. From the way they grappled, it appeared as if Ron had also wrestled in high school. There they were, man and beast, in a fight to the death. Already, Ron's shoulders and legs were covered in blood. The alligator fought with an aggression that frightened me.

Ron had the creature in an arm lock, and it was wild in its despair, trying to break free, moving its strong, long tail back and forth frantically. They had moved around the ground and had somehow made it into the cabin.

Since the door had been fallen during their altercation, I was able to see what was going on inside. Ron was trying to break the alligator's neck. The wild thing tried to take a big bite out of Ron, opening its jaws wide but Ron would use his big hands to keep its mouth from closing on him.

Inside, there was hardly any furnishing and that was logical since it was only a meager slave's hut. There was a large wooden table with empty soup bowls and a few chairs, as old looking as could be, and some torn pieces of cloth that once formed drapes. There was one window, the glass smeared with dust. The sunlight streamed through the window, giving the little abandoned cabin glowing warmth. As Ron continued to fight with the alligator, his eyes searched the cabin. I followed his eyes and we both noticed a box of matches and a lantern.

"Valerie," Ron cried out to me, "light those matches and light up the lantern. Do it now!"

I had no idea what he had in mind but instinctively, I obeyed, knowing that this was out of survival. I lit up the matches and then the hand-held lantern which stood on the table.

"Now throw it to me!" he bellowed.

I hurled the lantern toward him. He didn't catch it but maybe that was his plan all along. The lantern broke upon impact on the floor, and a fire began to burn. Ron, holding on to the alligator in a strong arm lock, finally managed to break its neck and the alligator bent its head as if defeated, emitting a powerful groan of pain. It was in hysteria, thrashing and writhing on the ground, and it was in even more pain when the flames of the fire began to consume it.

"Let's get the hell out of here!" he shouted.

Ron took my hand and we left the cabin. We ran down the little dirt path that led into the bayou wood. As we looked back, we saw that the fire had become bigger and it was now burning down the diminutive cabin. The alligator had tried to escape but it froze completely at the entrance. It was bleeding profusely and died right there and then.

"I thought you weren't going to make it," I said to Ron.

"Me either," he replied..........

Too tired to run, we walked into the bayou jungle, not knowing what we'd find or what would find us. We feared it would either be another wild gator, for surely the swamp was infested with many of them, or Alma and her wicked gangsters ready to shoot us.

By now the sun was beginning to set, turning the moist ground into shades of red and orange, and coloring the wilderness in fiery hues. Exotic birds were singing or bickering, flying about as if scared or in a hurry to get somewhere. We were in a part of the bayou that was thick with too many low-growing trees and undergrowth. Sugar canes grew abundantly here, and we even spotted footprints, ancient footprints that had never disappeared; reminders of the black slave laborers in the plantation.

"It's going to get dark soon," I mentioned, "what are we going to do, Ron? Where will we sleep? We're too far from any town. I feel like we're going to die sooner or later."

"Don't talk like that," he said to me, holding me by the shoulders fiercely, his brown eyes glowing as if on fire, "we're not going to die. We won't give those bastards that satisfaction. This nightmare will be over soon and we'll see Alma and her goons brought to justice. Don't give up, you hear me?"

"I'm so scared."

He held me in his strong arms, making me feel warm inside, and safe, despite everything that had happened, even in the face of the danger that still lurked in the bayou. He began to kiss me, and they were not soft, butterfly kisses. They were strong kisses, passionate, hard. He kissed my forehead and my eyelids, my nose, my cheeks which were wet with tears, and my chin. When he kissed my chin, I automatically threw my head back. He held me closer to his body, pressing against me, his chest on my breasts.

"You're too gorgeous Valerie," he said in a low, rough, breathy voice as if he were panting, "you have the most beautiful body God ever made and you need to live to see more of the world. You're young and rich and you deserve to be happy. You'll be home in California again soon, and you'll be a big star one day."

His voice, choked with passion, had already aroused me. I, too, was feeling a sexual spell come over me. It seemed so natural, so right. I didn't know it then, but the reason Ron and I were feeling so sexual toward each other owed to wanting to survive, to defy the death that we thought would claim us in the bayou.

"I want to make love to you," Ron said, "let me have you, Valerie."

A moan escaped my lips; his answer.

I clung to him, like my own life depended on it. We were kissing; our mouths open, passionately locking lips in such a way that made me melt in his arms, made me weak. His manly strength was flowing into me, making me stronger, making my fears slip away. The sun was descending in a horizon we could not see through the thick bayou vegetation and taller trees. The skies above were afire with strong hues of red, orange, yellow, purple and pink, the usual colors of the sky during sun-down. Our tongues dueled, our bodies were on fire and our breathing became hard. We made out like we had never done it before.

Our blood racing, our hearts beating wildly, I felt my nipples harden as his hands tore off my blouse. His hands groped my breasts and kneaded them, his hands cupping my full breasts. I threw my head back and let out a cry of sudden pleasure.

His mouth was on my breasts, sucking my nipples hungrily and it was probably the first time he had had his mouth on anything. His tongue sucked my nipples roughly, taking my hands on his breasts and bobbing his head on one and then the other, making me hold on to his head as he continued to orally stimulate my breasts. His hands cupped my ass, pulling me tightly against him, allowing me to feel the hardness of his cock through his slacks.

The hot setting sun intensified the heat between us, surrounding us with its warmth and glow, making us sweat as we worked each other's bodies into a heated sexual frenzy. My hands roamed down his back and held on to his waist as he continued to kiss me feverishly. His hot mouth was on my neck, kissing it slowly and making sure I was getting hotter by the minute.

I moaned and writhed under his sensual attack. His skillful tongue slid down the flat of my stomach and he kneeled all of a sudden, holding on to my hips. His fingers were instantly inside my pussy, not caring whether I was ready or not. But I was. He slid them into me, at times pulling out and spitting on his hand to make them slicker before jamming them into my tight pussy. I screamed out as my first orgasm began to build.

His mouth was on my pussy and he laved my folds and continued to work his fingers on me in his unique style, making me go over the edge. My orgasm came and I felt weak in the knees. We were in the middle of nowhere, the bayou should have frightened us with the dangers around it, but we didn't care anymore. What better way to die than this way, fucking like no man and woman had ever fucked before.

I look back at this moment even now, and when my memory brings me to the greenness of that bayou, to that sunset, to that terrifying ordeal we had gone through, I push all the fear aside and remember the unbelievable, inimitable pleasure that Ron gave me, the pleasure we gave each other, the passion we shared. How long we made love, I don't recall. The sun disappeared and the bayou became engulfed in twilight.

By the time that happened, I had achieved several orgasms just from his tongue fucking my pussy and his fingers doing the same thing. To pleasure him in return, I got on my knees like he had done and took his cock into my mouth to suck on. He had a very good-sized cock, not large like Byron's black cock, but nice enough for me to enjoy. His long cock remained hard for me and I was able to spend a leisurely time taking it down my throat and sucking it masterfully. I licked up and down the shaft of his cock, wrapping my tongue around it, kissing it, putting to the cheeks of my face and taking it deep throat. He grabbed my blonde hair fiercely and groaned loudly. He couldn't hold it anymore and he erupted in orgasm.

I thought we were done and I had begun to walk away, thinking he'd follow me but he seized my small hand and arrested my walk.

"Where are you going? Come here I want to fuck you."

After which the real fucking began. He laid me down on the grass, which although uncomfortable and clinging to my body and hair, felt oddly good. He spread my legs and got on top of me, all the while we kissed passionately, our mouths open and our body heat rising. He kissed down my neck again and on to my breasts as his hard cock slipped into my pussy. He was careful not to penetrate too quickly. He wanted me to feel good so he carefully slid it into my pussy in an achingly slow tease. I wrapped my legs around him. He continued to kiss me as he fucked me, his cock pumping into me, in a tempo he controlled. His thrusts were firm and strong, filling up my pussy completely.

He fucked me so good. His cock was like bullet shots in my pussy, steel-hard and penetrating me deeply, so deeply. I was in total ecstasy, my eyes bright; my head tilted back as he roared like a beast and fucked me harder and faster, each thrust more intense than the last. It was like sexual violence, and I raked my nails down his back, his back bleeding again, but not from the crocodile, from my passion.

I gripped his buttocks and pushed down on his ass cheeks as his cock went in and out of my pussy. Finally, we both reached a sexual high that consumed us and we had a simultaneous orgasm, screaming out, scaring the bayou wildlife and birds.

It was the best sex I'd ever had. We slept through the night in peace.

* * * * * *

We awoke to the sound of gun shots, the barking of dogs and multiple men's voices.

It was morning and the sun was already quite warm. At first, we thought it was Alma and her mobster companions, so Ron and I remained quiet and perfectly still, crouching beneath the sugar canes. Then we heard the sound of machetes cutting down the canes, as if searching for something the canes. We didn't waste any time upon hearing all this, so we began to run. We didn't get very far.

"Hey! Stop!" said the loud male voices, and more gunshots.

"Stop running, this is the Police."

Ron and I ceased running and turned to look behind us. Sure enough, we saw them – beige-uniformed police officers, some of them with police dogs. They approached us and Ron and I stood there, not knowing what to do, frozen and looking directly at them.

"We're with the Sheriff's Department," they said, "and we were notified by the New Orleans Department that there were two missing people here, abducted at a Masquerade in the French Quarter."

From behind them emerged the P.I. I hired, Stone Martin, and he embraced me and looked happy to see me alive. He had obviously done his homework. He spoke to the officers and they continued to look at me and then Ron and I didn't understand what they were saying. They spoke in clipped and hushed tones, most of it in their "Louisiana English" patois.

"Miss Masters, you don't know how glad I am to see you safe," Stone said, "I wasn't sure where Miss Alma Chavez was hiding and locating the Mafia boss' mansion was like finding a needle in a hay stack but we finally did it."

"So Miss Chavez is in prison now?" Ron wanted to know.

"She was arrested along with the Mafia boss she claimed was her boyfriend and her Mafia friends. They are going to appear in a New Orleans court to face trial for the murders of many Louisiana residents and some tourists who were staying at the Cajun Moonlight Inn. Their bodies were found in the swamp, but only the bodies that hadn't been devoured by the alligator they had kept as a pet."

"Did they find the body of my friend Byron?" I asked him.

"You mean the African-American male that was with you?" Stone replied, "No, sadly we found nothing. My guess is the swamp alligator made him into a meal."

"We were there when it happened," Ron explained," Alma and her henchmen chased us, firing their guns at us into the bayou and the alligator killed Byron because he was unable to swim."

"Are you Mr. Ron Ash the famed photographer from San Francisco, California, spouse of Miss Linda O'Brien?"

"That's right. I was kidnapped by Miss Chavez and I was held prisoner in the mansion of the Mafia Boss. I think his name was Diego D'Acha.

"That's the guy. We booked him on illegal drug trafficking, operating a prostitution ring and multiple murders. He had eluded authorities for years and his crime syndicate had begun to spread all over Louisiana and Mississippi."

Ron and I smiled a tired smile of relief. Finally, justice had prevailed, but I had almost lost my life in the process.........

I bid farewell to Ron at the airport as he caught his flight to New York where Linda still waited for him in their Manhattan apartment. We hugged and shared one brief kiss, the memory of our lovemaking still singed into our hearts.

"Don't lose touch, Valerie," he said to me, "I will be in San Francisco for the rest of the year, working. You're free to visit Linda and I whenever you want. And...if you ever wish to get together in private...here's my private phone number."

"No, I don't think we should –"

He handed me his cellular phone number anyways, and I put it into my purse. Sure it was probably wrong, sure it was something that didn't fit with my character, but I had enjoyed Ron's friendship and now sexual chemistry so that I couldn't refuse him. But I figured it would be a long time before we ran into each other again.

After Ron's plane departed, I made some phone calls on a public phone at the airport. I called my mother to let her know I was ok, rested and ready to return to California. Of course, I didn't tell her the whole story with its dark details, of nearly dying in the bayou.

To ensure that the media and news wouldn't give an account of my adventure, I told Private Detective Stone not to tell a soul about the harrowing experience. I told him it was my private life and I didn't wish anyone to know about it. So graciously, the detective only told half-truths to reporters and he payed cops in the Sheriff's Department who had found us in the sugar canes not to tell the whole grisly story.

New Orleans newspapers printed articles about my time in New Orleans and that I had run into Alma at a Masquerade. From then on, there is no mention of what else happened other than the kidnapping by Alma and he thugs.

I was glad that only this Southern city newspaper dared to tell a bit of the tale. My mother in California and my father in the East Coast wouldn't be able to read the story. They all assumed, like the rest of the public who wanted in, that I was just vacationing in New Orleans at the time of the capture of the wild woman who had been a Mafia man's doll and a murderer in her own right.

I telephoned my girlfriends Gina and Crystal and they were more than happy to hear from me.

"Where are you, girl?" Gina said to me.

"I'm still in New Orleans but I'm going to take a flight to LA."

"We're already in LA," Crystal said, "we're home from Europe. Tell you what, why don't you stay in New Orleans until the end of Mardi Gras. We'll both take a plane there to meet you. And we can enjoy the rest of the parties together. Then we can decide on what else to do or where to go."

"Oh, alright. I can't wait to see you guys again."

I hung up the phone and for the first time in a long time breathed without any fear and with a lot more comfort.