The Gold Digger Ch. 03

The car pulled off the road at a Bed and Breakfast. The tattoo woman looked over at Carol. "This is where you get off."

The other woman had gotten out of the car and opened the rear door where Carol was sitting. The tattoo woman smiled and said. "Good Bye and good luck." The car did a U-turn and headed back toward the city leaving Carol standing by the side of the road. She looked at the sign, then at the front. Well, she thought. I guess this where I get off, or get on I suppose. She walked up the old wooden steps, holding the white painted banister. She rang the old-fashioned crank doorbell and waited.

After a few moments a heavy set middle aged woman opened the door and peered out. "Yes?"

"Hello my name is Carol. Two ladies just dropped me off. I think I'm supposed to be here." Said Carol.

The middle-aged woman stepped forward and got a closer look. Carol could see she was looking at her left eye where the body art had been applied. She said. "Yes. I can see its you. Please, won't you come in?" She held the door wide.

Carol stepped into the house. It was a big old farmhouse. Inside she could see it really was sort of a Bed and Breakfast. Off to her left was a large dining area, and she could see the long bureau where they probably served their continental breakfasts. A beautiful old grandfather clock sat to the right of the bureau, it's ticking could be faintly heard from where she was standing. To her right, about midway in the room was a magnificent double stairway, with a balustrade that curved around to an upper floor she could see had a balcony walkway that traversed the length of the living room. Along the back wall of the balconied stairway she could see eight doors. These she presumed were the bedrooms. The floors were richly carpeted. The carpeting looked and felt thick and plush, but they gave the impression of being older than they really were. Everything was arranged in a late Nineteenth Century décor, Victorian she guessed. Still, something didn't appear or look quite right. Yes, it was a B&B, but on closer examination the furniture seemed more ornate than quaint. In fact, she'd been to several B&B's and couldn't ever remember so many couches and love seats, and yes it was all clean and tidy, but most of the furniture was brightly colored. A lot of the furniture was red. Carol thought. Yes it was a Bed and Breakfast, but it could just as easily pass as a bordello.

Suddenly, a powerful new emotion smacked her in the face. It hit her like a rock! This wasn't your typical quaint quiet old rustic family B&B. Bob had delivered her to a brothel. The tattoo on her face, no matter how discreet, marked her as a whore, and the tattoo on her rear identified her pimp. He'd delivered her up to be sold to strange men, to be traded and bartered like she was some piece of livestock. Oh how stupid she was! She looked at the woman. "What kind of place is this?"

The woman evinced no sign of emotion when she said. "We have a room reserved for you upstairs. Won't you follow me?"

Carol followed her up the stairs, feeling less sure with every step. They reached the balcony hallway, and walked its length to the last door. The woman took out a set of keys and opened the door. "Step inside"

Carol stepped into the room.

The woman, still standing at the portal said. "Dinner will be ready at half past seven." Then she turned and closed the door. Carol heard a key inserted from the outside and then a lock clicked shut. She was locked in yet another room, only this time it was far from home, in a place she knew not where, and a whorehouse to boot. Scanning the room she saw there were no telephones, no radios, no televisions, nothing. She looked around the room for perhaps a magazine or a newspaper. She saw nothing. Carol walked to a window and looked out through a series of filigreed glass panels. They might as well have been bars. Outside were fields and pasture. It was all very picturesque, but not very encouraging. Bob had her locked up, safely and securely tucked away, but where she hardly knew.

Looking about the room she saw a door that certainly would take her to a bathroom. Off to the left was a large clothes closet. In the center of the room was a large four poster canopied bed. She decided there was nothing to do but wait. She flipped off her shoes and lay down on the soft feather mattress wrapped her head in a fluffy goose feather pillow and fell sound to sleep.

Carol had no idea how long she'd been asleep, when someone softly kissing her cheek slowly awakened her. She looked over and saw it was Bob. "Hello." she said.

Bob kept kissing her, now he was kissing her left ear. "My you are a sleepy head. Every time I find you I have to wake you up."

Carol started to get up but Bob gently pushed her back on the bed. "Stay there." He kicked off his shoes and climbed in beside her. "I've had a long day and a hard drive. I think I'll join you for a while." He lay down beside her.

Carol, in no mood to argue, said. "OK" She re-closed her eyes.

Bob was lying beside her with her back against his chest. Excepting for shoes they were both fully clothed. He let his right arm rest on the pillow above her head. He took his left arm and rested it around her waist. Soon Bob was fast asleep. Carol lay there awake. She didn't know what to think. He wasn't acting like someone about to sell or auction her off to foreigners. His breath smelled of peppermint. His body was putting out so much heat it was like a little furnace. She took his left arm and pulled it up closer to her breasts. She pressed back against him and closed her eyes. She knew she wouldn't get back to sleep, but she didn't see anything else she could do but relax and wait. She would just lay here. She could pretend they were lovers, or young married people on their honeymoon. She didn't know what might happen, but for now she still had her fantasies.

Bob reawakened an hour or so later. Carol had never gone back to sleep. As he softly rubbed her left breast he asked. "Would you like to go out for a bite to eat?"

Carol rolled around and kissed him. "Is that what you want to do?"

Bob answered. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

Carol kept kissing him. "I want to do what you want to do."

Bob kissed her back. He started fondling her right breast too. "I don't want to tell you what to do."

Carol reached down and started rubbing his crotch outside his pants. "I'm not very hungry."

Bob's right hand was tracing up and down the nape of her neck. He said. "I'm not real hungry either." He pulled her closer and started kissing her in earnest. He took his left hand and reach down under her skirt and found her vagina and starting rubbing it over her panties.

Carol unzipped Bob's fly and reached in with her fingers. She started fidgeting with his tumescent penis. She whispered. "I don't want to get out of bed, do you?"

Bob had leaned over and was kissing the right side of her neck and her right ear. He started nibbling on her earlobe and the soft delicate place behind her ear. He answered her. "I'm uncomfortable, my clothes are all twisted around my body."

Carol answered as she started kissing his neck. "Let me help." She took her two hands and undid his belt buckle. While he released his interest in her neck to squirm out of his pants she started to unbutton his shirt.

Bob whispered in her ear. "You smell so good." He unbuttoned her skirt and blouse. With one hand he started pulling her blouse over her head, while his other hand started pushing her skirt down around her knees.

With her blouse, his shirt, her skirt, and his pants in puddles above and below they resumed their soft rubbing and fondling. Bob found the bra snap in the back and undid it releasing her warm soft breasts from their cloth prison. Carol had pulled Bob's boxers down and was teasing his manhood with both hands, one rubbing his scrotum while the other was wrapped around the shaft of his now fully erect man stick. Bob had his right arm around her shoulders and was tickling the aureole of her left breast while his left hand was pulling her panties down. He felt the bandage where he knew her tattoo rested, and was careful not to touch or abrade it.

Now both were completely undressed and feeling and rubbing all over each other. Bob felt like he couldn't get enough of her warm pink flesh. She was soft, warm, small, and delicate to the touch. Carol felt Bob's firm muscles, not muscle bound but muscular. His strong arms wrapped her in a loving embrace. His hard penis pressed against her stomach and lower abdomen. His body was hot and dry to the touch. She took one of his hands and kissed his palm. It wasn't callused and coarse, but it wasn't soft or weak. It was a man's hand, a hand that felt strong but could be gentle too. She kissed his palm again and pulled it so it rested on her cheek. She wondered, why hadn't she noticed him before?

Bob held her head in one hand and started soothing over her breasts with the other. He pressed his head down on her breasts. He kissed each rosy bud. His used his tongue to whisper around her aureole. He used his lips to nibble at her engorging nipples. How sweet she is he thought.

Carol used her hands to fondle and caress Bobs Penis. She tickled its head, and she wrapped her fingers around the base. She took her fingertips and traced a line up and down his scrotum.

Bob reached for her vagina and her ass. He took his fingers and rubbed between the crack of her ass cheeks. He carefully wiped over her vagina. He took her labial lips and pinched each one between a thumb and a forefinger. He could feel how wet she was. He found her clitoris and, using his fingers started to titillate it gently. He could sense her growing desire. He knew she wanted him. He wanted her. He thought about anal sex for a second. No, this was all still too new, too hot, and too fresh. He wanted to be back inside her puss. He pressed hard against her. She pressed back. He eased into her about half way, and then slowly pulled out. He slowly entered again, and pulled out again, slowly. Each time he entered she pushed harder, and each time he pulled away she tried to follow with her hips.

He rolled on top of her and started a steady, hard, rhythmic movement of his ass and hips against hers. She followed his strokes with strokes of her own. They rocked back and forth, harder each time. He wrapped his arms tighter and tighter around her torso, pulling her closer and closer, squeezing her as tight against him as he could.

Carol responded with heat and passion. He was inside her. He was where she wanted him, where she needed him to be. Only when he was inside her did she feel alive and free. He filled her up. He satisfied her every craving, every desire. His penis was thick, hot, and big. It went deep inside. She squeezed her legs together as tightly as she could to enhance that feeling of fullness that only comes when a man is fully inside you. God she loved how he made her feel. She loved his power, his strength, and she loved his manly tenderness. She was falling for this man. She had to face reality. The tattoo on her ass was a truism. She was his. She belonged to him. She wanted to belong to him. She wanted him to want her to belong to him. She gasped. He was about to disgorge his manly juices. Into her they flooded. They poured up and in, deep inside her womb. She was swept up in a frenzy of love, lust, and passion. Bob was holding her! He was giving her himself. She loved it. She loved him She said so. "Oh Bob! I love you! I love you so much!"

He heard her plaintiff cry. He felt the same sense of physical urgency. He pushed into her with all his might. He felt sure of himself as a man when he was inside. When he penetrated her he was the total man he always wanted to be. She made him feel like a man. He answered. "God I love this. I love you Carol!"

It was over. They lay in each others arms. It was a warm affectionate tender embrace now. She reflected on his cry. He said he loved her. He reflected on the great sex they'd just had. He wondered if he should trust her. Naw!