The Wilmington Woman's Club
Chapter 13: September 1983 - A Myrtle Beach Motel

Copyright© 2010 by Paris Waterman

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 13: September 1983 - A Myrtle Beach Motel - By and large this is a story of covetousness and retribution, money laundering, power struggles, infidelities, and murder. And then there’s the sex. Like your dick, not easy to put down. - Mora Less, author of Honey Dripper; and Clit

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   NonConsensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Mystery   Cheating   DomSub   Rough   Humiliation   Swinging   Group Sex   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Squirting   Pregnancy   Exhibitionism  

"Tell me again how you're gonna do this," Conrad asked her.

"I show up around three; Room 450," Leah answered. "I ask to see the money. There is supposed to be $300 grand -- preferably in hundred's, but we really don't care. I count it. If it's all there, and doesn't look like Monopoly money, I stay with them and the money. Maybe one of them comes to this room where you have the coke."

"Right," he said. "Maybe they'll want to test it, maybe not. I think they will. They're paying seventy-five a key; you're going to test what you're buying."

"What then?" she asked, figuring she's all alone with one or more of them in that room. Shit happens, and she wanted no part of a fucked up deal.

Conrad sighed. "He checks out the coke, calls back to where you are. They like what they see; they give you the money, and leave here with the product."

"And?" she said, a glimmer of concern flashing over her face.

"And nothing," Conrad said, "No opportunity for any funny business."

She bit her lip, unconvinced.

"Anyway, I got this baby," he told her, and revealed the .38 Colt Detective Special under the windbreaker, neatly tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

Room 450

Domingo looked at his watch, and said in Spanish, "Its five minutes to three. Where's the girl?"

"Don't worry," Ernesto said, "Seventy-five a key is very good money. I'm sure she'll be here."

Lying on the bed, Domingo looked up at the ceiling; the rain was sweeping the windows. "You think she'll try to fuck us?"

"Maybe," Ernesto replied, "Maybe her, maybe a friend. Thas' the way it goes. In either case, we'll be ready. Got your knife ready?"

"Always," Domingo replied, eyeing his favorite blade. "She loves to cut," he said, and began to smile at the thought of slicing up the expected visitor.

3:02 AM

Leah left the room, and ventured out into the sheeting rain. She headed directly for room 450, and knocked firmly on the door. A Hispanic male opened the door, and she stepped inside. Her blonde hair was wet and sticking to her forehead. She wore no makeup on her face, didn't look at all sexy, since she wasn't here on business ... well, not her normal type business anyway.

"I'd like to see the money, please," she said.

"We would like to see the dope, please," Ernesto said, mocking her.

"No, the money first."

Ernesto looked at Domingo.

"You afraid I'll bop you on the head and take it?" She said, and smiled at him.

Domingo gave a faint nod, and Ernesto realized she had brought nothing into the room with her.

"You don't have the coke?" Ernesto asked calmly.

"It's coming," she replied.

"Coming?"

"A friend will bring it."

"A friend?"

"The idea is," she said, "I count the money here with you. One of you can go to our room and check out the coke. Or, you can both wait until I finish counting the money, and we'll all go to the room and make the exchange."

She was playing it hard, and found she liked the action and tension of the moment.

"So," she said, "Do I see the money, or do we forget the whole thing?"

Maybe' she thought, this was what I was cut out to be. I wanted to be an actress; could have been one with a break here and there. I was pretty good in that porno flick three years ago. Who knows?

Ernesto was thinking Seventy-five a key ain't cheap. Fifty-five was reasonable, but since we're gonna take it anyway, it don't matter how much we say we'll pay.

"So," Leah said impatiently, "do we deal, or do we just stand around staring at each other?"

"Get the money," Domingo said to Ernesto.

3:12

It was twelve after three by Conrad's watch.

She had told him to give her thirty minutes with them. That would be time enough to count the money. There was nothing they could take from her, so he didn't feel she was in that much danger. If the money wasn't all there, or God forbid there wasn't any money at all, she would simply say goodbye, and return to the room.

Eighteen minutes to go, Conrad told himself, glancing nervously at the valise on the bed. All he had to do was wait, but that was the hardest part, and he knew it.

3:14

The money was in hundred dollar bills, neatly stacked in a dispatch case. Leah took the bills out of the case, and began counting. While she counted, the two men watched her. Not her hands, but her chest and legs. Ernesto's erection was evident if one cared to look in that direction. Domingo also lusted after her, but had better self-control than his partner.

 
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