The Inn Club Ch. 11: Aimee undone

"So what's the verdict?" I asked.

She looked at me, and her eyes said 'It's time to fuck again.' What she said was, "It feels the same as yesterday morning. Except," she said, grinning, "You're here." She got out of bed, walked around to my side, bent over and at once took me in her mouth.

I was hard very quickly and she pulled off me with a 'pop.'

"Fuck me. Now. Your slut is hungry and needs some breakfast."

I shook my head at her expression as I stood and took up position behind her as she leaned over the bed. Standing doggy -is- my favorite position, so there was no hesitation on my part...as if there could have been anyway. I guided myself into her and was rewarded with a heavy sigh before reaching under and taking ahold of her tits. Mmmm, dangling boobies, the best place for hands while fucking.

She grunted and groaned as I fucked her hard and fast, driving us both toward climax without any preamble. Guided by the sounds she was making, I'm certain she was satisfied with my efforts. As she started to clench up and shake again, I pulled her back to my chest, shortening my strokes and allowing me to put one hand over her mouth for what I knew was going to be another explosive finish. Sure enough, being held in place for fucking had the expected effect, and in moments she gave a muffled yell into my hand. Not far behind, I came forcefully inside her and continued pounding her willing pussy until I was completely spent. When at last I stopped, she turned and kissed me hard on the mouth, her arms around my back.

"Damn we're good Easton," she said, then grabbed a towel and seemed to forget I was in the room.

We were downstairs eating breakfast in 'business casual' before 6:45. By 7 we were headed back upstairs. I changed into my attire for the day and then made my way to Aimee's room. The hallway was clear, so I let myself in as soon as I arrived. I found Aimee wearing her heels and nothing else, bent over with her hands on the bed. "Ready for me I see," I said as I disrobed.

"Mmm, yes," she moaned, watching me undress, "now get over here and service me."

I quickly finished and made my way behind her. Already hard, I let her guide me to the hot wet mess that was her pussy. "We do need to figure out what the heck is going on."

As she held my cock in place and backed up to take my inside her, she said, "You were certainly the right choice," she sighed as I fully penetrated her, "mmmm, Easton."

I fucked her slowly, deliberately keeping my hands off her tits for now. Then I remembered something. "Where did the necklace come from?" I asked.

"Necklace?" she said, squeezing me. "Fuck me! Fuck your slut."

She didn't seem interested in answering my question, so I decided to go against my nature and get her attention. I pulled all the way out of her and put an arm around her waist. "The necklace you are wearing right now. Where did you get it?"

She put a hand up and touched it, and said, "This thing? I don't remember, I've had it forever. Now, do I have to beg?"

I slammed back into her. "I've known you for over five years, and you've never worn a necklace." I banged her hard as I asked, "Where. Did. You. Get it?"

She moaned, completely distracted and definitely not answering my question. I had to try a different approach. "What did you do the night you arrived?"

"We're at the MGM. I did what a slut does and went down to the casino," she said with a huff as I slammed my hips into her rear. I pulled out again. I didn't find her answer very forthcoming.

"And what did you do down there?" I asked.

"Well, I uh, kind of don't want to say."

I reentered her, held my hips steady and she sighed. I said, "Not like you to be bashful, especially when I'm balls deep inside you." I resumed fucking her slowly. "Now, what is it."

"Your slut has a little kink. The Inn Club is one thing, but at casinos I like to try and pick up high rollers."

"And then?"

"And then? And then fuck them, of course, as a slut does."

Her language had to be part of the key to this story, and yet somehow I had the feeling she was being reluctant for a reason. "And did you succeed?" I asked as I continued to fuck her.

She looked over her shoulder and gripped my cock with a vise grip of a pussy. "You really think this slut can't just pick up whomever she likes?" She raised an eyebrow. "Nice Hungarian gent. I fucked him, he gave me the necklace afterward and I joined him at the craps tables."

"So that's where you got it?" I asked, once again fucking her.

She blew her hair away from her mouth as she turned to look at me, "That's what I said."

'Whoa,' I thought, something was definitely off.

She added, "Now, can you get back to fucking me? Your slut is going to need another shower before the meeting starts."

I resumed fucking her, as slowly as my reptile brain would let me, which was not much slower than a canter. Damn she felt delicious. Then she turned away, put both of my hands on her tits and grunted, "Pound me!"

Well, I had done my best to that point, so I saw no reason not to continue in that fashion. I fucked her silly, and when she came I quickly followed, depositing my fourth load in her pussy in less than twelve hours. I faintly wondered if whatever was affecting her might be rubbing off on me; that is, in some way other than contact with her wonderful pussy.

Collecting herself after another 'servicing', we showered and got dressed for work. "Based on how I feel right now I'll want to see you again at the lunch break, if that's okay with you."

Under any other circumstances this woman was a complete pain in the ass to deal with, but at the moment I was more than willing to give it a pass. "I am, of course, happy to assist a lady in need."

She grinned at me, and it wasn't with some disguised thought. "I'm glad, though I agree it would be nice to know what hell is going on."

---

After another sex sprint at lunch and another session after work was done, I decided the thing to do was to go looking for trouble. With Aimee briefly out of full on 'fuck slut' mode, we headed down to the casino floor. It was a typical evening and it was crowded. Restaurants of all kinds ringed the gaming area, and hundreds of people were drinking, talking, laughing, and concentrating on everything from slot machines, to craps, to poker and even baccarat. I recalled something she had said, "You said you like to hunt high rollers?"

Her eyes were already showing distraction, "Cunts on the hunt?" She leered at me, "To get drunk on spunk?"

I shook my head, looked around, and gave her a very sharp, but tame, slap on the cheek. "If my slut knows what is good for her, she'll answer the question."

She shook her head twice and her vision seemed to clear a bit, "Sorry, not sure what that was. Yes, the biggest money is in baccarat."

As I turned the two of us toward those tables, she grabbed my arm and said, "That's him!"

I looked in the direction she suggested and saw a rather large gent in a very nice suit sitting at one of the tables. I was no expert, but there was probably more than ten grand on his current bet. If I had to guess, he was eastern European, which fit with her earlier description. A woman standing behind him got my attention. Also eastern European, the look on her face indicated she recognized someone standing near me, which could only mean Aimee. A scowl mixed with amusement came over her face. She bent and whispered something in the man's ear, but he only nodded slowly and kept his eyes on the table as she patted his shoulder and walked toward us.

At my side, Aimee was now quivering as the woman stood in front of me. She regarded Aimee with a smirk and looked me up and down, "Are you enjoying the necklace?" she said to me. Aimee was practically panting.

I looked at Aimee and back to the woman, "What's going on?"

She leaned forward and said with clear derision, "Tell the slut to go and I will talk to you."

I turned Aimee toward the far side of the room where the elevators were, and said to her, "Listen slut, go up to our room and get ready for me."

Aimee turned, gave me the most aggressive open mouth kiss in history, and almost sprinted toward the elevators. I turned back to the mystery woman. "What happened?"

She sneered, "Your slut thought she could steal my man. I showed her otherwise."

I shook my head, "Aimee might well have fucked your man, but she wouldn't have had any interest in keeping him." The lady gave me an odd look, "We aren't a couple. At least not until last night, and I'm sure that's only for the sex."

A look of mild surprise came over the woman's face. "So it worked?"

"What's that?" I asked.

The woman laughed, a full, throaty, 'you have got to be fucking kidding me!' kind of laugh. Then she got herself under control and extended a hand, "I am Catalina."

"Easton," I said, shaking her hand. For a relatively small woman, she had quite the grip.

She pushed her hair over one ear and took my arm, leading me to one of the many nearby bars. Sitting, she motioned for the bartender, who seemed to know exactly what she wanted. When each of us had a glass of The Macallan (at $250 a shot), she sipped and said, "I have been with Gregor for some time," she began, indicating with a thumb that she meant the gent back at the tables. "There's not much I can do about his wandering eye, and cock, but once in a while I try to entertain myself."

I sipped The Macallan, enjoying a treat I'd never pay for on my own. "I gather you did so last night sometime?"

She nodded, "I went back up to our suite around ten pm, only to find Gregor walking down the hallway with his hand on the hip of yet another slut." Her eyes flashed daggers, "And she was wearing one of my grandmother's necklaces. I recognized the stones."

Oddly, my mouth was dry as I awaited the next part of the tale. Her features broke into a grin, "I stopped them, took a hold of the necklace, and cursed it." She downed the last of her drink, $150 in a gulp.

I was incredulous, and it showed, "Uh, cursed it?"

Rather than take offense, she regarded me coolly. "Oh yes," she said softly, "I was so startled and upset I immediately uttered a single word with as much hatred as I could."

"Don't tell me," I said, "that word was--"

"Slut!" she all but spit at me. Then she smirked, "I've done that before, but it never seemed to have any effect."

Now I downed the last of The Macallan in my glass, $100 in a gulp. "Would you be willing to tell me what you did and how you think it works?"

She tapped the bar and another glass appeared next to her hand. She took a sip and regarded me seriously, "Tell me, is that slut doing things she never would normally do?"

I nodded, and found myself smiling at the same time. "Yes, and thank you."

She nodded, gave me a smile and again downed the whole glass, another $250 in one gulp. "Then I am satisfied. I will tell you what I did. Listen closely." And with another glass of The Macallan in hand, she told me a story.

-----

After hearing the story I had to admit while I still did not believe in curses, something I could not explain was going on. I ducked out of the resort for a time, took a cab to pick up some supplies, then returned to the room. As I expected, Aimee was there masturbating furiously, to no conclusion I was certain. She looked up at me, "Sir, slut needs your cock."

Curse or not, I was totally into her performance, though in fairness to Aimee it needed to end. I dropped a bag at the end of the bed, "If my slut wants my cock, she'll lie face down on the bed and not move." Her reaction was immediate, and totally obedient. As she lay there waiting for me I calmly took several lengths of rope and secured her extremities to the corners of the bed. If anything, she was getting more worked up.

"Please sir, fuck your slut. She needs your come," Aimee panted.

After removing my clothes I again took up position astride her callipygian booty and slid effortlessly into her sopping wet pussy. She groaned, then said with a purr, "Thank you."

I gave her two full strokes then paused, fully sheathed, "And now, it's time to end the performance." I took hold of the necklace and started to unscrew the clasp. Aimee thrashed and grunted at me not to do so, but in a few seconds it fell away and I put it on the nightstand.

She was still beneath me for a moment, then she looked over her shoulder and gave me a squeeze with her pussy before sighing and relaxing into the bed. "I'm not quite sure what's just happened, but I think 'thank you' is in order."

I gave her a couple of strokes, "Are you sure?"

"Mmm," she murmured, "I can probably talk about it in a little while, but right now...Well, right now I've been on edge for a few hours and I need a good fucking. Can you help?"

I said, "With pleasure," and then proceeded to pound her bound body into tomorrow, with a decent climax for both of us.

I untied her while we were coming down, withdrawing from her body when I could not reach the ties on her calves. I massaged her limbs and then lay down beside her. She put an arm over my chest and nestled into me. After a long while she said, "It's really, really weird to think about." I stroked her back, and when I didn't speak up she said, "I'm not totally clear on what's been happening, yet I have the feeling I could have been wearing that," she pointed to the necklace, "for a long time if you hadn't decided to remove it."

I pushed her to her back and suckled on her breasts for a long minute, "I have to admit, having a personal fuck slut as attractive and energetic as you is really, really enticing. But a willing partner is still better."

She was silent for a moment, and then asked, "Why do I think I wanted to keep wearing it? Where did I get it?" Aimee said, and then her eyes popped open, then she gasped, "I got it from that high roller, didn't I?"

I nodded, and said only somewhat seriously, "You don't remember his name?"

She shrugged, "Nope, but I remember he was average in bed." She picked up the necklace and studied it. "I vaguely remember him putting it on before we walked out of the suite."

"And then?" I asked.

She shook her head, "And then it was morning and I was horny as fuck."

"You aren't going to believe me when I tell you this. Do you remember seeing that man at the baccarat tables a little while ago?" She nodded. "Do you remember the woman standing behind him? Your height, decent looking, jet black hair?"

"Not at all," she said, slowly shaking her head.

"After you pointed him out to me, the woman strode directly to us. Your, um, sluttiness, seemed to ratchet up as she approached. She stopped in front of us, and you seemed ready to climax on the spot. I sent you up to the room so I could talk to her."

She was staring at me, open mouthed.

I took her hands in mine, "She says that she cursed the necklace when she bumped into you and 'her man' coming out of the suite."

"Cursed," she scoffed and pulled her hands away. She stood, still wonderfully nude, and paced quickly. "Like she hypnotized me?"

I shook my head, "I don't believe in curses, and hypnotism takes time."

"So what do you think?" she asked.

I shrugged, "Suggestion?"

She gave me a puzzled look, "I don't know how that would be a thing. Do you know anything else about the woman?"

"I'll tell you what she told me, and by then I'll be ready to go again."

"And then?"

"And then we can test the limits of suggestion."

----

Catalina grew up in a modest neighborhood in Bucharest. Youngest of three girls, she was born after the fall of the Berlin Wall and was raised in the confusion of Eastern Europe after the USSR was no more. Her mother, Anca, was a stay at home mother while her father, Alin, worked in construction. There were a few lean years early in Catalina's life, and it was probably during this time of difficulty that Alin looked outside of his marriage for some comfort and distraction from his challenges at home.

Anca spent every possible moment with her daughters, striving to teach them the fading knowledge of the gypsies, as one of which she proudly counted herself. Most of the time Catalina and her sisters saw their mother's stories as little more than pure fiction, but Anca was insistent. There was power in words; even more power in emotion, and when the two were combined at the right time and in the right way, the effect could be magical.

Again, the young girls, now interested in such Western things as Barbie dolls, inwardly giggled at the idea of magic. Then, in the span of just two days, they changed their minds.

Preparing dinner one night, one of the girls was careless with a kitchen towel. Tossing it aimlessly, it landed near the lit stove and promptly caught fire. In an instant the towel burst into flame, threatening to take the cabinets next. The little girl cried, "flăcări!" (flame!), and Anca immediately dashed into the room and whisked her off her feet. Scared out of her mind for the safety of her family, Anca pointed at the fire and yelled, "Stinge!" (extinguish!)

At once the fire was gone, with little more than a wisp of smoke and a tattered rag to testify to its existence moments ago. Catalina and her sisters looked toward the stove, then at each other, then at their mother, who was casually dabbing at carbon stains and tossing the burnt rag into the trash. Anca turned to her daughters and told them to be more careful, and to say not a word to their father.

The next night their father, Alin, came home quite drunk. Anca met him at the door, took one sniff, and stepped back from him. With real anger she poked him in the chest and said, "Doar eu!" (Only me!) Alin stepped back as if slapped, his face a mask of confusion. The moment passed, and they all went to bed.

A few days later the girls were in their room late in the evening when a loud argument took place. It was heated, but never violent, as Alin never considered touching his wife in that way. Only the oldest of the sisters, who was seventeen at the time, understood the conversation. And she would not believe it, nor tell her sisters the meaning of it, for a number of years. When she did tell her sisters, this is how it went.

Tată was seeing other women, and mamă learned of it. That night, he came home not only drunk, but smelling of another woman. In a rage, mamă cursed him, making it so that he could only be with her. A couple of days later Tată came home in a panic, concerned that his manhood didn't work! Mamă reminded him of his vows, but not the curse, and after a short argument they went to bed and she affirmed their vows in the biblical sense. To the best of her knowledge, he never made eyes at another woman again.

----

At this point, Aimee looked at me with amusement. "A curse? Okay, so what happened to me?"

"That retelling was not the end of her story."

----

After a pause I continued. "Catalina had known since she met Gregor that he was not the faithful type. While this was a bit concerning, he had always returned to her and never flaunted his, ah, indiscretions in front of her. The other night she had gone to get another drink, and when she returned to the tables Gregor was gone. For whatever reason, she suspected he had taken some woman upstairs, and she was royally pissed about it. She headed up to the suites and that was when you emerged from the room with Gregor's hand on your hip. Spotting her grandmother's necklace, she was immediately enraged."

"She walked right up to you, grabbed the necklace and uttered one word with as much venom as she could, Târfă!"

Aimee looked at me quizzically, "And that means?"

"Can't you guess?" I said, "Slut."

She scoffed. "Sure."

I held her gaze, "What she intended was that if the slut wearing the necklace needed cock, that was the only thing she could really enjoy."