Chapter 2

The breath lozenge tasted like wintergreen and desperation - the kind of flavor that makes you acutely aware of your own grime. Gwen’s nose wrinkled slightly, but her smirk never wavered. She just patted my cheek like I was a misbehaving dog she found charming.

“Hop in, hero,” she purred. She slid into the driver’s seat with the practiced ease of someone accustomed to cars worth more than houses. The leather groaned under me as I climbed in, still half-convinced it was a hallucination brought on by bad dumpster food.

After a satisfying greasy cheeseburger, we stopped at a gas station. She ordered, “Fill her with premium. I’ll get condoms.”

Once we climbed back in, she pressed “Inizio”, the start button. The Italian quad-turbo V16 engine snarled to life again. “You’re staring at my chest,” she noted, without looking at me.

I lied with a playful accusation. “I wasn’t. You’re crazy.”

She laughed, loud and unguarded. “So I’ve been told.” She stomped the gas pedal, flinging the car downroad with the acceleration of a popped balloon. In barely a block, the speedometer hit triple digits! It’s amazing how half a million bucks and two thousand horsepower can bend the laws of physics. She piloted the aspiring aircraft between a pair of trucks with only inches to spare! Her driving was scary as a battlefield, but more dangerous!

The Hotel Lusso Baroque wasn’t just fancy, with gold and marble everywhere, it was the kind of place where the doormen wore gloves and judged you with their souls. Gwen tossed the valet her keys. His smile changed to a frown as his gaze moved from her abundant cleavage to the filthy bum escorting her.

I was quite uncomfortable wearing a torn T-shirt and dirty jeans. All the employees and most guests wore suits or fancy designer clothing. Three with nametags stared with suspicion in their eyes. She grabbed my hand. “Relax. They’ve seen worse.”

The elevator ride up was silent except for the hum of machinery and the sound of my heart trying to escape my chest. Gwen leaned against the mirrored wall, studying me like an unfinished puzzle. “You’re not what I expected.”

I asked, “What did you expect?”

“A man who’d take the money and run. Or rob me. Or fuck me right there against the dumpster.” She touched a fingertip to the corner of her mouth and sighed. “Shove me down on a pile of trash, choke me, and rape me to a three-hole creampie. Or grab my hair and give me a pearl necklace in public.” The smile and longing tone in her voice surprised and aroused me. She stroked my thigh, inspiring a slow growth. She giggled and continued, “You did do the heroic thing, though. That was ... unexpected.” The elevator dinged. I couldn’t tell if she meant it was a good surprise or bad.

Her suite smelled like roses, jasmine, and money. She kicked off her expensive high heels, so I untied and pulled off my worn work boots. The shower was glass-walled and big enough for eight. Gwen didn’t bother with preamble. She peeled off her dress in one smooth motion, dropping it to the bathroom floor. No bra. Just those red panties, with a dark moisture streak down the middle. Her fabulous fake tits barely drooped at all.

“Your turn,” she said, nodding at my rags. I hesitated. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You already flashed me. Don’t pretend you’re shy.”