Second Honeymoon Goes Wrong

Sarah closed her eyes.

"Sit on my lap and spread your knees."

She obeyed, showing off her unshaved bush. Another guest walked around to get a better view. Sarah turned bright red.

Edward lifted her blouse enough to unclasp the bra. "Take off your bra." She did that by pulling the shoulder straps off her arms and pulling it from behind her blouse.

"What are you trying to do? Get me naked?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"Coz you're sexy as hell." He started to unbutton her blouse. It got slipped off her shoulders, revealing firm, c-cup tits.

"Stand up." She obeyed. He unfastened and unzipped the skirt at the back, then letting it fall to her ankles.

Sarah no longer thought about crying. She didn't really want to be naked, but it wasn't as bad as all that. Maybe even slightly titillating. Weak-kneed, she sat down again.

"Let's go," he said, standing up. She reached down to pick her underwear off the floor to put it on. "No. I want you naked. Put it in your bag." Shocked, she put the lingerie in her handbag, leaving the outerwear thrown across the table for the staff to pick up.

It was the first time she'd ever ridden an elevator naked. He draped his hand across her boob. They shared the lift with another naked girl and her guest. She felt instant solidarity with her. Now I understand why I have to go through this to be general manager.

Chapter Nine

They got back to the room and took a few minutes to settle in, though he didn't let her get dressed. Edward sat down in the big easy chair.

"I want a blow job."

"I've never done that before."

"First time for everything. Won't be the last time."

"I didn't know you liked blow jobs."

"It's been awhile." He pointed to the spot between his thighs.

She got down on her knees in front of his tool. He pushed her face against it. She felt the warm, hard dick on her lips and nose, with the tip against her left eye.

"Now put it in your mouth. Do what you want, but don't bite me."

She puckered her lips over her teeth and started licking the tip. He pushed the thing between her lips. Just a bit. Not too far. Civilized-like. She got comfortable with the arrangement.

Then he poked it halfway in. And pulled it back again. Probably a mistake, she thought. He wouldn't do that on purpose.

Hell he wouldn't. A few seconds later she took three fourths of it in her mouth. No mistake about that. He retreated to civilization.

The next lunge made her gag. His dick was too damn big. He did retreat, but rammed her again. She had to take all of it.

By now he'd grabbed the back of her head and was pumping hard. She'd have asked him to be more gentle if she coulda gotten that dick out of her mouth. As it was she couldn't say anything.

It got faster and harder. And saltier.

She sucked it up as best she could. He pumped forever -- must've been a minute or more. In and out, in and out, as fast as he could.

Then she felt hot, salty cum against the back of her mouth. She had no choice but to swallow.

Edward cleaned his relaxing penis against her face and hair, decorating her bangs and eyebrows with cum/saliva. Made her look like a whore.

She probably thought she'd clean up before crawling beneath the sheets for a cuddle and a much-needed nap next to her husband.

"Let's go," he said. "Put your shoes on." He grabbed her bag, making sure her underwear was inside of it. "Hurry up! Get your shoes on."

She scrambled for her sandals, and no sooner had she fetched them did he grab her elbow and pull her toward the door. He retrieved his card from her bag.

"You're on your own, little lady," he said as he pushed her out into the hallway, naked and becummed.

"Edward," she protested. "What are you doing...?" The door slammed in her face.

He listened to her knock, and then pound with her fists. "Edward," she shouted. "Let me in. At least let me clean up and get dressed.

"How can you do this to me?"

The racket continued for awhile. After waiting a few minutes he cautiously looked through the peephole to see if she was still there. She wasn't. Good, he thought. Now she'll see what it's like to be a general manager.

Chapter Ten

Meanwhile, Edward had plans for the afternoon. I gotta fuck me that little, stuck-up, dancing bitch.

Of course Miss Rose wasn't more stuck up than any other hostess. Like them, she made her money fucking all comers for the asking. But Edward could be forgiven for thinking her arrogant. First, while she was "owned" by Sarah she paid no attention to him. Second, his wife's mere presence made Rose unavailable -- any unavailable woman seems stuck up, especially in a brothel. Finally, Rose understood that playing hard-to-get increased her value.

Fucking her required finding her first. Edward wasn't even sure she'd made cast for the day. He figured she'd most likely be on the seventh floor, where the nightclub was, so that's where he headed.

The room was empty. As you'd predict for early afternoon.

He went down to the fifth floor lobby. As usual he attracted a lot of attention from eager beavers, but Rose was not among them.

Next stop was the fitness center on the third floor. The masseuse sluts, beginning the new shift, eagerly sought his custom. Ignoring them, he scoped out the hot tub, and then headed for the gym.

There she was, by herself, hard at work on the elliptical machine -- out of breath and sweat through. Her bag hung on the rack behind her -- he slipped his card into the holder before she even knew he was there. Then he mounted the machine next to hers and worked to get in sync with hers.

There they were, ellipticalling in formation. It made for a good laugh.

He signalled to her to strip naked. Only then did she notice she had his card. She momentarily dismounted to oblige -- quickly shedding the white tennis skirt. The matching tee, sweat-stuck to her body, was harder to remove. With the underwear gone, the elliptical dance resumed at a slower pace -- she, tired now, dripped perspiration.

Edward admired the lithe little whore. Her gymnast's frame showed every muscle as she moved. Had she been born in more fortunate circumstances no doubt she'd have been a professional athlete. Her thighs and butt were perfectly formed and moved with divine grace. Her arms were strong and wiry, yet with just enough fat to look feminine. Her tits, too small to bounce, fit her body perfectly -- total symmetry. Her feet, despite the pounding they took, resembled those of an angel. Feminine fingers sported painted nails. Only the shaved pussy earned his disfavor, but no mind.

Her sweat-soaked skin shimmered and sparkled under the lights, like a fancy evening gown.

Guests are not allowed to be naked except in their rooms, or in the girls' dormitory on the second floor. But nobody else was in the room, and Edward had a mind to fuck the girl while she was still hot. By now he'd also broken a sweat.

He took her hand and escorted her off the machine. Then he stripped down himself and embraced the lady. He loved her sweaty, female smell. The two naked lovers -- for that's what they now were -- did their thing on the floor next to the ellipticals.

The orgasm was unbelievable. They both came as one. They lay together, relaxed on the floor, until one of the masseuse sluts walked into the room.

"Don't tell Miss Mollie," begged Rose, scrambling for her underwear. Edward quickly put on his clothes.

"Don't worry," said the other, nametagged 'Miss Roberta.' "It won't be the first time."

They showered together in Edward's room before heading to the French Bistro for lunch. Rose dressed for the occasion, wearing a button-down blouse paired with an ankle-length, sheer, clingy skirt. Real Sexy Now.

"May I ask how old you are?" said Edward, between bites.

"I'm twenty-one."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Maybe a couple years, or not quite."

"Do you like working here?"

"I love dancing! Here I get to dance."

"You don't care about the money?"

"Of course I need money. But I do prostitution because I like to dance. That's the only reason."

"Wow!" said Edward, genuinely impressed. "Where'd you learn to dance?"

"I grew up dancing. But the woman in charge is Gloria. I eventually want her job."

"Yeah. I met Gloria. Nice lady."

"She taught me a lot. But now I can dance better than she can."

"I believe you."

It was just past lunchtime. Edward was a free man until 11am the next morning. He let Rose go for the afternoon. That evening, past ten, he met his wife -- talking German -- leaving the nightclub on the arm of a man labeled "Mr. Wolfgang." She was naked. As he walked past her into the nightclub he saw Rose on the dance floor, doing her thing.

Amazingly, she wasn't spoken for. He gave her his card and pretended to take dancing lessons. But mostly he just let Miss Rose dance. With her clothes on--and as the night wore on ever more naked. He enjoyed just watching her.

Just past midnight he took her to his room and spent the night with her -- enjoying the naked dancer spread-eagled across his bed.

Chapter Eleven

So Sarah, right around lunchtime, found herself naked and becummed outside what had hitherto been her hotel room. She knocked, pounded and begged at the door for a few minutes, wondering what she had done to deserve this.

A neighbor opened his door to see what was going on in the hallway. "Lady, if I didn't already have a girl in here I'd hire you. But as it is could you please be quiet?"

That embarrassed her. She rummaged for her underwear and hastened to the elevator.

Where should she go? The lobby was out of the question--nobody would help her there. Despite being hungry, she wasn't allowed in the restaurants (without an escort). No point in going to the nightclub or the fitness center.

That left only the girls' dormitory on the second floor, where she'd never been before. There, she thought, she might get cleaned up and perhaps even get some sleep. So she pressed "2" on the elevator.

Big mistake.

She walked toward the showers, only to see that guests joined their hostesses there. So much for cleaning up. She quickly learned that the girls' dormitory was the only place where guests were allowed to be naked in public. All those dicks--stiff and limp alike--scared her.

She barely avoided getting shagged by hiding around a corner as a guest walked by. Just across the hall was an empty "dorm room." The door was open and she saw a bed inside. When the coast was clear she dashed across the hall, shutting the door behind her.

There was no lock. Still, she had some privacy.

The room was very small, with barely a place to stand beside the bed. That sported a clean sheet and clean pillow. But there was no blanket or cover sheet--just something to lie on top of. She couldn't cover herself up. Light seeped in from the hallway, there being no lamp in the room. The walls didn't go all the way to the ceiling.

She collapsed on the bed, exhausted and stressed, hoping for an hour or two of rest.

The thing about the girl's dorm is that it doubles as the guests' playground. It's where all the kinky stuff happens. Girls only slept down there when they couldn't get a customer for the night (and given the gender ratio more than half of them couldn't). They usually left the door open, sleeping nude, and if somebody walked by to molest them it was just money in the bank.

The dorm room doors were almost never closed. Indeed, a closed door means something interesting is going on inside. The best thing to do with a closed door is to open it.

And that's just what Mr. Kevin and Mr. Rodney did. Apart from their cards hung around their necks they were completely naked. Sarah sat up in fright as two big cocks rose to attention at eye-level less than two feet away from her.

She understood immediately why these two guys liked hanging out naked on the second floor. They were good looking as all get out, a far cry from the flabby senior citizens elsewhere on the property. Mr. Kevin, probably in his mid-forties, stood 6'4" tall, looked like a pro tennis player, and posed in front of her like a Greek statue. He had bright red hair--Sarah guessed (correctly, it turns out) that he came from Ireland.

Mr. Rodney cut a different figure: shorter and stockier--maybe only 5'7". He looked like a boxer, and was certainly a weightlifter. He coulda bench pressed Sarah one-handed. The man was older--perhaps fifty.

Mr. Kevin reached for her bag, which she was half sitting on, pulled it away from her, inserted his card into the slot, and then hung it on the bespoke hook where it was supposed to be. He owned her now. His dick pulled to attention, at eye level barely a foot from her face. The big thing glided toward her lips.

"Get naked first," Mr. Rodney interrupted. Kevin looked at him, irritated, then stepping back to let Sarah obey. She shed her bra and pantie, surprised at how unembarrassing that was.

The prick, hard as a rock, got in her face. He rubbed it around a bit.

"Suck me off," Mr. Kevin growled.

She got the tip in her mouth, now grateful for what Edward had taught her. But this guy was not civilized--no sooner was he inside than he rammed the thing to her gullet. Made her gag.

Good thing he pulled back out again (not all the way). What a relief.

But only for a second. The second thrust was faster and even deeper, if you can believe that. She was shocked. What a savage!

The pumping got hard and fast. She barely had time to breathe before choking on the next lunge. He held her head in place tightly, pulling her hair. In and out. Pubic hair pushed up against her nose and face. Split second gag followed by even shorter relief. How long can this go on?

Not long. Soon the back of her throat tasted salty. Then the cum really came. She couldn't swallow--not with a mouth full of cock--so her cheeks filled with sticky white stuff. Tasted...not that bad. Though not what she'd choose for dinner.

Kevin couldn't control himself. He screamed as his hands pushed her head into his cock so hard she thought her neck would break. It took forever for him to empty his load--maybe 20 seconds.

At the last drop of cum he pulled his slowly deflating penis out of her mouth, but pushed it hard against her lips to prevent her from spitting.

"Swallow it, bitch."

She had no choice. While some got pushed out, dripping down her chin, most of his seed was swallowed, just like the savage ordered.

Kevin stepped away, spent, exhausted. He leaned against the wall, smiling at her like a hunter looks at conquered prey.

"We need to get you cleaned up," noted Mr. Rodney, stating the obvious. He took Mr. Kevin's card from her bag and inserted his own. "My turn." Grabbing her bag with one hand and Sarah's arm with the other he pulled her off the bed. "Let's get to the showers."

Sarah didn't resist.

The naked couple walked down the hallway toward the showers. No avoiding the male stare now--she saw pricks spring to attention as she walked by. But Mr. Rodney was the only man allowed to touch her. He did, escorting her with a hand on her butt.

It was a shower room rather than a bunch of stalls--no privacy here. Rodney escorted her to the one in the far corner. She spent the first few minutes filling her mouth with water and spitting it out.

Mr. Rodney saw to cleaning the rest of her. He shampooed her hair and soaped her arms, back, and breasts. Lovingly. Then he cleaned her asshole with his soapy middle finger, before scrubbing her lady parts to a shine, using his tongue as a tool. Made sure her clit got extra attention, which despite her shyness got her hot.

Then he went for her legs and feet, washing every part and even cleaning between her toes. Sarah, despite being cleaner than she'd ever been, still felt dirty.

Because she was dirty. A dirty whore.

Rodney knew that. He wedged her into the corner, and then grabbing her under her butt he lifted her one-handed to just the right height for humping. His cock found the door.

He pushed in at the gate, breaking the lock. She winced, but already wet (and not just from the shower) it felt good after that.

Rodney was a gentle man. He took his time. She wrapped her legs around this waist.

He kissed her deeply, massaging her breasts while pumping just a little bit faster.

And then a little faster still. Despite herself, she started to lose control. It felt so good.

And then all heaven broke loose. He pumped uncontrollably, one hand on her butt partially supporting her weight, the other squeezing her tits, and their lips locked in a deep kiss.

Finally, cum squared. She felt pangs of pleasure radiating from cunt and tits. He came crashingly hard--much better than any previous encounter at Mollie's brothel. It was almost like being in love.

Almost. At the end she was still a dirty whore.

Chapter Twelve

Despite his intention to sleep in, Edward woke up at his usual time, 5 am. He rolled over to fuck naked dancer sleeping next to him, but thought better of it. Really, with all the free pussy around he should sample the offerings. Just for variety.

So he shook her awake and bade her to dress while he did likewise. "I'll take you for breakfast later, after they open" he promised, knowing that she couldn't go to the restaurants without an escort. As they got into the elevator he removed his card from her bag.

He went to the fifth-floor lobby.

There were always at least twice as many hostesses on the property as there were guests. That meant that barely half of them, or not even, could sleep in a real bed with a guest (while getting paid for it). Of the remainder, as many as possible slept in the girl's dormitory on the second floor. But there wasn't enough space down there, so plenty of girls had to sack out on whatever sofa or chair they could claim.

So the lobby had a dozen sleeping girls spread out on every sofa and easy chair. A couple of them were awake as Edward emerged from the elevator. They rose to solicit him, but he motioned for them to sit down. He wanted to take his time. He walked around the room inspecting the merchandise.

And sure enough, on a bench by the elevators lay big-boobed Barbara, splayed out sound asleep. She wore blue athletic shorts topped with an orange t-shirt that advertised Syracuse University. The shorts had scrunched up overnight so that her pantie-covered butt was partly exposed.

Edward looked her over closely. Apart from the boobs there wasn't much to recommend her. She stood maybe 5'3", and while not fat, was stocky. She had thick thighs, a big butt and a full face. Her black hair was nearly shoulder length, partly covering her eyes. She'd kicked off her shoes, lying barefoot. Her feet were those of a peasant girl, worn and calloused from hard work.

She was as different from Rose the dancer as it was possible to be. With variety in mind, Edward put his card in her bag and felt for those bodacious tits. She woke with a start.

Most girls would be upset if woken by a stranger fondling her bosom, but not at Mollie's brothel. Indeed, hostesses invited such harrassment--it meant money in the bank, and maybe a big bed in which to sleep properly. So all Boobsie did was check to see if Mr. Edward had given her his card. She sat up, smiling.

Mr. Edward continued to massage her boobs. They were big and soft and surprisingly firm.

He asked her to remove her bra. She did. Of course they sagged a bit, but not that much. He squeezed and kissed them through the t-shirt.

He pulled the girl onto his lap, and with one hand between her thighs he used the other to help her remove the shirt. She sat there topless on his lap, by the elevators in the lobby, with his hand on her crotch and his lips at her breast.