Island Getaway Ch. 01

"You ready for a good time, baby?" Mark gave Abigail a look that she was sure he thought looked sexy as hell, though she mostly thought he just looked goofy. Still, she figured she had to keep playing along.

"You know it, big boy," she said, running a finger down his chest and letting out a giggle that was so out of character that she legitimately shocked herself.

With every passing second, Abigail felt the weight of the situation pressing upon her. She knew that she had to find a way to get out of the hotel, but short of jumping out of a third-story window she had no idea what to do.

"Leave your clothes on," Mark said to her as he stripped off his own clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on a chair by the bed. "I like how you look in that outfit." He winked at her.

Now fully naked, Mark sat on the edge of the bed facing the hotel door and gestured for Abigail to come toward him. Abigail saw that his cock was already erect and hard as she slowly walked towards him.

Mark let one finger crawl into Abigail's top and hook around her bra strap. He pulled her downward, placing his other hand on the side of her face as she bent forward and brought her in for a kiss. She felt shocked when his tongue darted into her mouth and without thinking she reciprocated, letting her tongue delve into his mouth.

Mark let his hands run over Abigail's breasts. "Mmmm, I bet those look spectacular," he breathed into her ear pulling her bra and blouse down so that her large breasts sprung free.

Abigail tried to suppress a shudder but she need not have bothered as Mark was totally enthralled by just one (or rather two) things. He took one breast in each hand and squeezed, as though assessing their firmness, and pinched her nipples, causing Abigail to let out a brief squeak as she tried to control her breathing.

After a moment, Mark pushed down on Abigail's shoulders and she ended up kneeling on the carpeted floor in front of him, her face closer to a cock than it had been in years. Abigail stared at the girthy cock for several seconds before hesitantly reaching out and grabbing it with one hand, feeling it react and pulse under her touch.

Abigail's heart pounded in her chest as she stroked Mark's cock with her hand. She couldn't believe she was in this position and wasn't sure what she should do next. Should she try to run away? Ask him to use a condom? She begged whatever deities that might be listening to do something, anything, so that she wouldn't have to go through with this.

Unfortunately for Abigail, if a deity was listening, it was one who was more likely to play tricks than provide boons.

A loud knock on the door shocked Abigail and reminded her of the other (and larger) issue as a voice demanded to be let in so that they could check IDs.

Abigail looked up at Mark's face, where she saw his expression change from one of confusion to a wicked smile she didn't like the look of.

"Come on in," called Mark, glancing down at Abigail and giving her the same smile.

The door began to open and Abigail risked a quick glance behind her to see that two armed men had entered.

In that desperate moment, Abigail knew she had to do whatever it took to keep her identity secret. With a mixture of reluctance and desperation, Abigail let her lips wrap around the tip of Mark's cock. She tasted the slightly salty pre-cum on her tongue and felt Mark shudder briefly in surprise and pleasure.

The armed men barked a command for their IDs and Mark grunted and gestured to his wallet on top of his folded clothes.

As Abigail let her lips slide down the cock she could feel it growing larger and harder inside

her mouth. Her tongue had begun to wrap itself around the shaft as she saw one of the men walk into her field of vision and pick up Mark's wallet.

As the man began to turn, Abigail realized he would soon see her and, makeup or not, she couldn't risk being recognized. She shoved her face into Mark's crotch, deepthroating his cock and guiding his hands onto her head to hopefully conceal her face. Mark let out a grown and eagerly grasped Abigail's hair, trying to pull his cock even deeper into her mouth.

Abigail had dated someone in college who'd been particularly enthusiastic about having her deepthroat him and, being young and stupid, she'd worked on controlling her gag reflex to please him (he certainly hadn't done anything to please her). She'd proven to be particularly adept at it but had long ago stopped even mentioning it to the men she dated since it often appeared to be the only thing they were interested in. As she felt the cock slide into her throat she was strangely thankful that the years lacking in practice had not caused her gag reflex to come back.

"Thank you, Mr. Erikson," the armed man who'd taken the ID threw it onto the bed. "Enjoy your evening."

"Glad," Mark panted as Abigail continued to take the length of his cock into her mouth. "To be...of service."

The other armed man eyed Abigail. "What about her?"

"Forget her," the first man sneered. "We're looking for a professional terrorist, not some cheap whore."

Abigail felt a wave of relief that they weren't going to ask for her ID which mingled with a profound sense of humiliation and shame over being called a whore. However, she couldn't concentrate on either for long, because hearing her called a whore had sent Mark over the edge. His grip on her hair intensified as the men walked away and she could feel the cock in her mouth begin to spasm as hot, salty cum shot down her throat and Mark groaned out loud.

Abigail didn't even hear the door close behind the men as they left the room. Instead, she was concentrating on not letting any of the cum still squirting from Mark's twitching cock fall out of her mouth and onto her breasts or clothes.

Mark finally released his hold on Abigail's hair and she was able to let his softening cock drop out of her mouth. She stayed kneeling on the ground for a minute, listening to Mark continue to breathe heavily. Not sure what else to do, she finally swallowed the thick cum that remained in her mouth.

"Holy fuck," panted Mark. "That was the hottest blowjob I've ever had. I never thought I'd be getting my cock sucked while armed soldiers watched."

Abigail slowly stood up, staggering slightly in the stiletto heels she still wore. Silently she straightened her glasses that had been knocked askew and ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to straighten it. She pulled down the leather skirt to cover as much of her ass as possible and tucked her breasts back inside her bra and blouse, not sure exactly what to say.

Mark walked over to the bed and picked up the wallet from where it had been thrown by the armed man.

"I don't like paying for what I didn't get," he began. "But here." He thrust the $250 at Abigail who took it, not sure what else to do. "That experience was easily worth $250 and besides," he smiled at her. "There's no way I'm getting it up again after that."

"Oh, um, okay," stammered Abigail.

Mark put his hand on Abigail's ass and directed her towards the door. "It's too bad I'm leaving in the morning, or I'd have hired you again."

A moment later Abigail found herself standing in the hallway listening as the door clicked locked behind her, the salty taste of cum still in her mouth. She glanced around and was relieved to see that she was alone. The armed men appeared to have moved on to another part of the hotel.

Looking at the $250 she still held in her hand, tears began to form in the corners of her eyes, causing her eye makeup to run, matching the smeared mess of color and gloss around her lips. Two days ago her life had been, if not amazing, pretty good, and now she was getting paid to suck cock while armed thugs tried to kill her.

Not sure what else to do, she pulled her wallet out of the pink rhinestone purse and put the $250 into it. She stared at her driver's license and credit cards that might very well have caused her death if anyone had seen them. Seeing a laundry cart further down the hall, she quickly walked up to it and dumped her passport and anything in her wallet that might identify her into the cart, covering it with used towels. She then pulled out her cell phone and saw that she had dozens of missed calls and text messages from unknown numbers.

"Fuck," she muttered. "They're definitely going to use this to track me." She nervously dropped her phone into the laundry bin.

"Okay," Abigail said to herself. "Saying that sucked would be an understatement," she mentally kicked herself for making a pun. "But you're still alive, and you have to get out of this hotel."

She walked down the hallway as quickly and quietly as she could and eventually found a stairwell different from the one she'd used earlier. She descended the stairs and came to an emergency exit.

She took a deep breath and pushed on the door, her nerves on fire and ready to run the second the fire alarm sounded. But contrary to her fears, there was nothing. Instead, Abigail found herself stepping out into the warm, humid night in a dark alley at the back of the hotel.

She carefully walked to the end of the alley, peeking out to see what was around the corner. It was a street. Just a normal, everyday (or every night) street. No armed men. No big trucks. Nothing.

Abigail began walking down the street, away from the hotel, her mind a mess of anxiety and fear. She had no ID, no phone, and didn't know anyone who she could contact. Instead, she had top secret documents someone would apparently kill for, an outfit that hugged her body so tightly it left very little to the imagination, and stiletto heels that were quickly beginning to kill her feet.

But with each step she took, Abigail's determination hardened. She wouldn't give up. She'd figure out how to get out of this mess.

Still, her mind was filled with one desperate question: What would she do next?