Chapter 13

Author’s Note: We’re moving into some new territory here, and there’s a new character. Let me know what you think. Europe is going to contain some drama. But, hey, life on the road is always going to be hard! Enjoy!

I sat on the far side of a crushed red velvet sofa, taking a deep inhale of the piping hot cup of coffee in my hands before raising it for a tentative sip. It was dark, rich, and delicious. Two cushions over from me, Katie had her legs tucked under her. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, with a pen sticking out of it. She wore a thin white cotton tank top, and her nipples easily protruded against the fabric. She had another pen in her right hand, a notebook balancing on her right thigh, and her phone perched on her left. Her left hand danced over an image of piano keys on the phone screen.

“No, that’s not right at all,” she said with a sigh.

I smiled at her. She scratched through a line on the page of her notebook, then rewrote it.

“This works,” she said. “But I can’t find the right melody here. It feels too slow.”

She continued writing in the notebook, scratching out and rewriting. I was halfway through my coffee before I finally said something.

“I like watching you work,” I said.

That shook her focus. She looked over at me, appearing a bit disheveled.

“I can feel you here with me,” she said. “It makes it easier.”

“Am I your muse?” I said jokingly and stuck out my tongue.

“So much more than a muse,” she said and set down the notebook and pen. She picked up her phone and slid it into the pocket of the loose, nylon shorts she wore. “Okay, time for a break. You can’t force things.”

“And you don’t need to,” I said. “Let it come to you. Besides, your coffee is getting cold.”

“Judging by the steam coming out of your cup, I don’t think so,” Katie said with a smile.

She picked up a matching cup from the coffee table in front of us. It was two-tiered and rectangular. The bottom layer was glass. The top layer was outlined by wood with gold inlay and covered with the same red velvet as the sofa.

“Come on, then,” I said. “Let’s check on the others.”

The lush red-and-gold carpet felt soft on my feet as we walked across the massive Suite Impériale at the Ritz Paris. This was truly a splurge. We had this and an adjacent Suite Mansart, which gave us access to a large terrace overlooking the Place Vendôme. But you only came to Paris attached to the largest pop music tour of a lifetime once, so the fact that it cost me 60,000 euros per night didn’t mean that much. Besides, it was only four nights.

We walked out onto the terrace and found a stunningly clear, refreshing Parisian day outside. The Eiffel Tower stood tall in the distance. We joined Kat, Jess, Rita, and Stephanie at the terrace’s dining table. There was an assortment of delicate pastries, two bottles of Champagne in silver ice buckets, two pots of coffee, and a pack of Gauloises on the table. All four girls sat with some form of croissant on the plates in front of them, a hot cup of coffee, and a cold glass of bubbly. They looked at their phones through matching Chanel sunglasses, each with a cigarette hanging from their mouths.

“Now this is a truly Parisian site,” I said. “You ladies look like natives.”

“Hey, baby,” Rita said, taking a drag and flicking ash into a sturdy porcelain ashtray. “You know about Paris and smoking for me.”

“For everyone,” Kat said, exhaling a plume high toward the Eiffel Tower.

“It’s sexy here,” Jess agreed. “And I’ve got to do something to keep me from eating every single croissant I see.”

“I don’t know,” Stephanie said. “I’m still not used to it.”

The girls had peer-pressured Stephanie into having her first cigarette since high school when we arrived in Paris. She had never been here before, and she was enchanted by romantic notions of the city. Rightfully so.

“Well, you look sexy doing it, Steph,” Rita said.

“Thank you, goddess,” Stephanie said and gamely took another drag.

“How’s the song coming, Katie?” Kat asked.

“Pretty good,” she said. “The lyrics are the easy part, I feel like. I can’t get the harmony right.”

“I’m just so impressed with you,” Jess said.

“Yeah,” Rita agreed.

“You’re not just chasing your dream,” Jess added. “You’re making it happen. You’re basically going to have an album ready by the time we get home!”

“I think you’re a little on the optimistic side, sweetie,” Katie said with a laugh. “But I’m trying.”

She sat down at one head of the table, and I took the other, across from her. She fished a joint out of her shorts pocket, grabbed the Zippo that sat on the table next to Rita, and sparked it up.

“Anyone?” she asked, holding up the joint as she held the first hit in her lungs.

“Yeah, I’ll have some,” Kat said.

She was done with her cigarette and snubbed it out in an ashtray. She took a bite of croissant and sip of coffee while the joint made its way to her. Then she took a long hit and smiled at me as she pulled the smoke deep into her lungs. I looked at my watch. It was almost 10 a.m.

“Has anybody heard from Crystal or Bianka?” I asked. “I figured they should be here any minute.”

The girls shook their heads, and as if the Fates had been listening in, my phone lit up just then. It was Jason.

“What’s up, brother?” I said.

“We just pulled up,” Jason said. “This place is insane!”

“Come on up, and we’ll get you some breakfast,” I said. I turned to the girls and said, “They’re here.”

I grinned as the whoop went up around the table. We had missed our partners in crime.

“Can we just do this all day?” Rita asked, taking a bite of her croissant and then pulling another smoke out of the pack. “They probably are wiped and don’t want to hit the town.”

“I mean, I don’t see why not,” I said.

“What time do you have to leave for the show, Katie?” Jess asked.

“Five or so,” she said. She had the joint again and took a pull.

“That’s only seven hours,” Kat said. “Sort of hardly seems worth leaving this absolutely fucking spectacular hotel. Jason and Crystal and Bianka can get some rest and be ready to stay up late.”

“I can’t believe we’re here again,” Rita gushed, recalling our quick trip to Paris a few years earlier.

“Let’s just savor it,” Jess said. “We’ve got a couple more days to go out and do stuff.”

“The room service is so amazing, too,” Stephanie volunteered.

“I think that settles it,” I said. “We’re unanimous.”

“I think that calls for a toast,” Kat said and raised her Champagne glass.

I quickly poured glasses for Katie and me, and we clinked the fine crystal together. The bubbles felt good going down my throat. But Cristal rosé, particularly in the morning, ought to have been viewed as a wonderful indulgence.

The croissants were perfect, flakey and airy and full of glorious French butter. They were still warm. I loved the delicacy of their structure and flavor. It was perfect with the strong, smooth coffee that I splashed hot milk into. I was just finishing a croissant when someone knocked on the door. We all jumped up and greeted our friends. The suite echoed from the squeals and happy reunion with our friends.

“So glad you made it, bro,” I said, hugging Jason. “How was the flight?”

“I think we drank every drop of Champagne they had on that plane,” he said with a laugh.

“That’s the whole point of business class!” I said with a laugh.

“It would have been better to fly private,” Crystal said, teasing her boyfriend. “I wouldn’t be so tired.”

She put a finger to the side of her nose and pressed it closed, then made a small sniffing sound. Everyone laughed. Crystal looked good, even after a long transatlantic flight. She wore black yoga pants and a form-fitting, scoop neck tennis shirt. She bounced up and down on her bright white sneakers, showing off a nervous energy that was endearing. She chewed gum, of course, but there was still a deep fatigue in her eyes.

“Were you able to get any sleep?” Kat asked.

“Not really,” Crystal said.

“I told you, girl,” Bianka said. “You should have taken a couple xannies. It would have knocked you right out.”

“I just need a little lift,” Crystal said.

“Come on outside, guys,” Jess offered. “We’re being real Parisians, and you won’t find a better view of the city!”

I called down to room service to have more coffee and croissants sent up, as well as more Champagne. The girls led our new arrivals outside, and the gasps from Jason and Bianka both told me all I needed to know about how impressed they were with our perch. I also noticed that Crystal had hung back so she could grab a quick word with Rita.

“Sweetie, don’t worry,” Rita said as I walked up to them. “I was just going to fix up some, and we’ll have you going in no time.”

“You’re the best,” Crystal said, flashing her dimples and bouncing outside to the terrace.

Her ass looked fantastic in the yoga pants, and Rita caught me staring.

“She is easy to lust after, isn’t she?” Rita said.

“A real bombshell,” I said. “I won’t lie. But you know that. It takes one to know one.”

“You’re so sweet, baby,” Rita said and kissed me. She tasted like cigarettes. “Want to help me get some coke ready for our guests? I think they could use a pick-me-up after the flight.”

“I figured that’s what Crystal wanted,” I said. “I also like Parisian Rita. You’re sexy.”

“I told you,” Rita said with a gracious smile, “there’s just something about cigarettes in Paris.”

“I think it’s more about you in Paris,” I said.

“It’s a whole vibe, I’ll give you that,” Rita said and smiled.

I followed her to our bedroom, where she opened the safe and retrieved a large baggy full of blow. She grabbed a couple carbon fiber cards and a few glass straws, and we returned to the main living area and its bar. There was a heavy, ornate marble tray with a smooth, polished surface.

“This ought to do, don’t you think, babe?” Rita said as she dumped the contents of the baggy out onto it.

“It’ll do almost as nicely as your tits,” I said and smirked.

“Do you realize it’s been four days since you fucked me in the ass?” she said. “Do you know the last time you went that long without giving me anal?”

“I’m guessing since the accident,” I said and shrugged.

“That doesn’t count,” she said. “Not counting that period of time when you were ... out of commission.”

She used one of the carbon fiber cards to put the coke into a neat pile, then put the straws on the tray. She drew her finger along the edge of the card before setting it down on top of the other and rubbed the finger on her gums.

“It’s never too early for that,” she said, eyes sparkling.

“I’m going to guess it was two years since I didn’t ass fuck you for that long,” I said.

“Almost three,” she said. “Good boy. You were close.”

“So I need to fuck your butt today?” I asked.

“You can do whatever you want, John,” Rita said. “But I promise I’ll squirt so hard if you take my ass. I’m so desperate for it. I just want to feel you in me. The way your dick fits. It, it just owns me.”

“I love that,” I said and kissed her. “Let me help you.”

I picked up the tray, and we adjourned to the terrace. Rita held the door for me, and I admired the flashes of her upper thighs I saw under her pleated tennis skirt. As we approached the large outdoor table, conversation stopped. Kat and Jess exhaled crossing plumes of Galouises smoke into the air. Bianka shared Katie’s joint. And I was surprised how comfortable Crystal looked holding a cigarette between the second and third fingers of her left hand while she raised a cup of coffee to her bee-stung lips with her right. Happy gasps went around the table like a case of the hiccups when I set down the heavy tray.

“We thought you might want to stay ahead of the jet lag,” Rita said.

“I love Paris,” Crystal said, her voice swooning.

“Oh! I forgot!” Kat said, suddenly standing up. She balanced her half-smoked cigarette in an ashtray. “We have a present for you!”

“Oh, yeah!” Katie said.

Kat rushed inside but returned barely a minute later with two black bags with “Chanel” printed on the side in white letters.

“Here you go,” she said, handing one bag each to Crystal and Bianka.

“Oh my god,” Bianka said. “What is this?”

“Yeah!” Crystal agreed.

“Just a little something for Paris,” Rita said.

“We thought it would be fun to match,” Jess said.

And that was a cue for all six girls to put them on. The sunglasses were a classic Chanel butterfly design, and the girls especially loved that they came from the flagship boutique at 31 Rue Cambon.

“These are cute as fuck,” Bianka said. “Wow, thank you so much!”

“I feel so chic!” Crystal exclaimed.

“You look chic,” Rita said. “To me, this is like peak Paris. Gauloises. Croissant. Coffee. Chanel.”

“And some pretty, pretty lines,” Crystal said, turning her attention back to the tray.

She didn’t bother to put down her cigarette or take off her new sunglasses. She just put the glass straw in her nose, closed one nostril with her cigarette hand, and snorted up the powder. Then she repeated it, a little clunkily given her refusal to put down the smoke, but there was something about this scene that was hyper-seductive. Something had changed about Crystal. And having the wisps of smoke curl around her head and up into the Parisian summer were an exclamation point on it. She pinched her nose briefly, then took a drag on the Galouises as she passed the straw to Bianka. The pretty brunette was as seamlessly elegant as ever, and my cock really began to rage as she inhaled her lines. This never, ever got old for me. The tray made its way around the table, Jason and I assisting in the literal heavy lift that it was.

“We were talking about just doing this all day,” Katie said. “Before the concert.”

“I mean, this seems pretty perfect,” Jason said. “I can’t imagine a better day. Ever.”

“And we haven’t even fucked yet, Jason,” Kat said, biting her bottom lip.

“Is that in the cards today?” Jason asked.

“Isn’t fucking always in the cards?” Jess said. “I like to stick with what we do best.”

Laughter erupted from all of us. It was hard to think of a better day. Glorious weather in Paris? Nothing to do? The ultimate hotel suite at the Ritz? What could be better? So we stuck with that plan. Jason, Crystal, and Bianka quickly came out of their post-flight malaise. It was easy with coffee and cocaine. That was the point of stimulants, of course.

We caught up and brought the new arrivals up to speed on the wild beginnings for the European leg in London. It would be fun to have Jason, Crystal, and Bianka come back with us to the castle after Paris. We quickly realized that having a central base of operations, rather than moving from city to city, would make things a lot easier and less disruptive.

The conversation eventually moved on to some fairly significant news. Crystal had finished filming her first porn movie for Daydream Productions shortly before they had joined us in Europe.

“We want to hear all about it!” Kat encouraged Crystal. “Like, every detail.”

“Seriously, I want to know what it was like!” Rita said.

“Okay,” Crystal said. “It’s so flattering because, first, I shot a web scene. Kayla says that’s what they like to do first for someone new because it can help generate excitement, you know, like buzz.”

“Kayla is so good at that,” Jess said. “She knows exactly how to market things.”

“So who did you shoot your web scene with?” Katie asked.

“Jimmy,” Crystal said. “He is so like the nicest. You know how he’s so rough on camera? He’s not like that at all in person. He kept asking me what I liked and didn’t like and was so careful to make sure I was comfortable with everything going on. It made me want to be such a bad little slut for him!”

We all laughed. It was amazing to see Crystal relish being the center of attention. There definitely was something different about her now. She was poised. She wasn’t shy. At all. She had grown into her beauty and embraced it. It was evident how much she enjoyed porn, even in her career’s budding phases.

“I bet you were a slut,” Jess said.

“Did you do anal?” Kat asked.

“Not yet,” Crystal said. “Kayla and I decided we’d save my butt. If I can make a splash with my first couple appearances, then we can kind of build it up into an event.”

“I like that,” Jess said. “Don’t put it all out there at once. People are going to flip for you, Crystal, because you’re such a fresh face and so, so pretty. You are going to be a star.”

“Oh my gosh,” Crystal said, blushing. “You are the sweetest. Thank you. Seriously.”

“What was it like, being filmed like that?” Rita asked.

“To be honest, I was surprised,” Crystal said. “Kayla really just let us go in one long take. She said my chemistry with Jimmy was really natural, so she just let us fuck.”

“Tell them about the cumshot!” Bianka prompted.

Crystal smiled and said, “He was supposed to cum on my face, but I guess Jimmy was a little excited. He pulled out and just blew it all over my pussy. Like, this huge, huge load. And when we finished the scene? I put my panties on so I could give Jason a nice surprise when I got home.”

“And it was nice,” Jason said with a grin. “Who wants more drinks? I’ll go get another couple bottles.”

“Oh, me!” Stephanie said.

“For sure,” Rita said.

“I think we’re down to two more, so I can call down and also help you carry,” Kat volunteered. “We are going to need a lot of drinks today.”

She laughed, and they went off inside in search of more Champagne.

“What about the movie?” Katie asked.

“I don’t want to say too much,” Crystal said. “Because maybe it would be nice to surprise you all with it.”

“When’s it coming out?” I asked.

“Next month,” she said.

“What’s the plot?” Stephanie asked. “I love porn with a good plot.”

“It sounds so corny,” Crystal said, “but I play a MILF who ends up fucking her husband, her stepson, the husband’s best friend, and the husband’s boss.”

She laughed and looked down sheepishly, like she was a little embarrassed.

“Sounds like you were playing someone as slutty as you are,” Rita said with a laugh. “And that’s why we love you!”

“I bet it’s going to be so hot,” Bianka said. “Crystal told me some more about the shoot, but I’m sworn to secrecy!”

The conversation flowed from there, but Kat and Jason hadn’t reappeared. I glanced at my watch. It had been six or seven minutes. I looked at Rita, and she seemed to have read my mind. She flipped her eyes over toward the door, then back at me, then back to the door one more time. So I stood up from the table and checked inside. I didn’t have to go far.

“You want me to cum all over your face, don’t you?” came Kat’s sweet voice. After a muffled response, I heard her say, “That’s exactly what you’re going to get. Don’t stop. Yes! Right there!”

Kat was pushed up against the wall, her tennis skirt above her hips, and her panties pulled to one side. Jason was on the floor, his face buried in her cunt. Kat was almost sitting on him. Her right hand pulled at the back of his head, and her left hand steadying her against the wall. She kept talking dirty, as much for her benefit as to keep Jason going with his oral efforts.

“Do you ever wonder how much money you spent to fuck me?” Kat said, digging deep in the archives to when Jason regularly saw her during her escort days. “I had Jess check. It was more than $25,000. Oh, fuck, yes, I’m gonna cum!”

Jason lapped away furiously at her. My cock got hard watching him eat out my wife. Kat’s body tensed up, and she pressed both hands against the wall. She arched her back and let out a long cry as an orgasm shook through her. Jason stayed on his knees, and Kat finally opened her eyes. She noticed me and smiled.

“Good boy,” Kat said, “but I think it’s time we get those drinks. Our friends are thirsty, I think.” She never looked away from me as she spoke. “Later, you and John can double-team me, then you can lick my holes after. Will you do that? Be my good clean-up boy?”

“I always want that, Kat,” Jason said, finally getting up.

I quietly exited back to the terrace. Europe was proving to be interesting. Culturally, I had always found there to be a permissiveness on the continent, one that naturally permeated its visitors no matter where they came from. Maybe it was an American mindset that it was just okay to let out pent-up desires on vacation here, like so many people would in Vegas. Maybe it was something in the water. Maybe it was all the cigarettes. Something instinctively told me that we were just scratching the surface of what this European adventure held.

Kat and Jason finally reappeared with drinks. The always-perceptive Rita teased her about what she must have been doing. I was ready to settle back in when my phone buzzed. It was a text message from Shelly.

“Can we talk?” she said.

“Sure,” I said. “Where’s Nicole?”

“Still asleep,” she said and gestured in the direction of a closed door.

It sent a shiver of mystery up my spine. Shelly and Nicole had originally made their own hotel reservation for Paris, but I insisted that we put them up at the Ritz with us. They shared the two-bedroom Coco Chanel suite, so I let the girls know what was up and excused myself briefly. I took the elevator down one floor and knocked on the door.

“Hey,” Shelly said when she opened the heavy double wooden doors a few moments later. Her eyes were puffy. She wore an oversized sweatshirt that had the Houston football team’s logo emblazoned on it. It was probably Johnny’s.

“Whoa, are you okay?” I asked, seeing her bloodshot eyes.

“Yeah,” she said. “I just needed to talk.”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Can we go outside?” she said. “I was smoking. I really need to be stoned.”

“Yeah, of course,” I said.

Shelly was a huge weed smoker. She always had been. There was evidence of two already smoked joints in the ashtray on her balcony, and she picked up a third, held it to her lips, and lit it.

“I feel like you sort of know you’ve hit the big time when you can bring your own drugs internationally,” she said with a weak smile as she exhaled. “You want a hit?”

I accepted the offer, hoping it would encourage Shelly to open up.

“So, what’s up?” I repeated.

“I told Johnny this morning,” she said.

I raised my eyebrows at her inquisitively as I hit the joint.

“That I’ve been cheating,” she explained. “I realized I had to tell him. It was stupid. But now I think maybe telling him was stupid because he was so fucking pissed, and I’m really not sure why he was pissed since he kept telling me it was inconsiderate to tell him in the middle of training camp, like I’m just trying to mind fuck him while they’re trying to win another championship. And ... and ... and. Ugh! I mean, he never cared that I was escorting when we met and for like a year after! Fuck!”

I held out the joint to her, and she gratefully took it, inhaled deeply, and held it while she stared at me. When she finally let out the acrid plume of smoke, she spoke again. This time, she was more measured.

“Okay, sorry,” she said. “He’s mad I told him while I’m away. He’s mad that I thought I shouldn’t tell him to begin with. He’s high-strung because there are so many expectations this year. And I think he’s frustrated that Jess is going to be out of the country for six weeks. Well, um, and it probably doesn’t help that I told him to just go fuck one of the cheerleaders he thinks he’s been able to hide from me.”

Shelly laughed, and a little trickle of tears rolled out of the corner of her eye.

“I guess I’m just a fucking mess,” she said and hit the joint again.

“Okay,” I said, “let’s unpack this. For starters, why did you tell him?”

“Ever since I told you, it has been eating me alive,” she said. “But I also didn’t think it would be a big deal. Johnny and I do stuff all the time, you know that. I guess I was blind to the idea that he would be pissed that I didn’t tell him before I did it. He didn’t see the double-standard the way I did.”

From there, Shelly went into full confessional mode. I sat and listened. It took us two joints to get through all of it. By the time she had finished, my perspective on Shelly and her marriage had been turned upside down. Her side of the story painted a picture of a relationship that had hollowed out into a shell of its former self. They didn’t have sex unless it was at a party. Johnny, even in the offseason, packed his schedule with workouts and events and anything except alone time with Shelly. She had begun to feel like a kept woman, taking care of their kid and yearning for the times when she could reunite with our group and our parties. The other players’ wives seemed to keep her a little bit at arms-length, given how much Johnny’s status had grown over the years. They treated her as approachable as he was. She was a superstar by association.

“When I got to London?” Shelly said, as the next joint dwindled to its nub. “I felt alive. I felt alive for the first time in a long time. I missed all of you so fucking much. I’ve been on this island, all on my own. I thought I had the love of my life, and now here I am fucking some random younger guy I met a stupid sorority event, for god’s sake. What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you,” I said. “I don’t need to tell you how many times I’ve gone through things like this. It’s hard. Relationships are hard. Marriage is even harder. Trust me. This is one thing I can speak about authoritatively. It takes work. It takes a lot of work. And it takes hard work all the time. You can’t just go on cruise control.”

“I know,” she said, choking back tears.

She took the last hit on the joint, then tossed the roach into the ashtray. She looked at me, her eyes almost pleading.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m seriously just a mess right now.”

“We’re all a mess sometimes,” I said. “You don’t have to stay a mess.”

I put my hand over hers. She smiled weakly. Her skin was warm. I really felt for Shelly. She took my hand and stood up. Her hair was disheveled. She raised her arms briefly above her head in a stretch, and I couldn’t help but notice it didn’t look like she wore anything besides the sweatshirt.

“I knew talking to you would help me feel better,” she said and smiled again, this time more genuinely, like I was used to.

“It’s what I’m here for,” I said.

“I hope that’s not all you’re here for,” she said and took a couple steps toward me.

“Shelly...” I said, my voice trailing off.

She sat on my lap, sliding her left arm around my neck and pulling my lips close to hers.

“I need this,” she said. “I need you.”

“Fuck,” I said under my breath.

I said it in part because this could be trouble. I should have known better. But I also said it because I knew my willpower, as a general rule, was weak in situations like this. With Shelly, Melanie’s little sister? The girl I had coached to take anal? The hot little cheerleader who had always seemed like forbidden fruit because of the Jess-Melanie connection? With Shelly, there’s no way I could say no.

Our lips met, and this kiss sent an electric shock through me. It felt dangerous. It felt forbidden – in a new way this time. This was a wife fighting with her husband, who was five-thousand miles away. She had opened up to me about what was lacking in her home. And now she was asking me to give it to her. I considered Johnny a friend. I knew that he and Jess had a special connection, one that it was just assumed would continue. I didn’t have a problem with that. Yes, I had fucked Shelly in front of Johnny before, albeit only recently, and he knew that we’d hooked up from time to time.

But this was different. As our tongues danced on that balcony in Paris, I knew this was something different. It didn’t matter. I was thinking with my little head. I reached beneath Shelly’s sweatshirt and ran my hands up her rib cage before cupping her pert breasts in my hands.

“Let’s go inside,” she whispered.

She never let go of my hand as we left the balcony and walked toward her bedroom. When we reached it, I closed the door.

“Lock it, please,” Shelly said and lifted the sweatshirt above her head with both arms.

I obeyed, then took in her beauty. Shelly was remarkable. Fit, athletic, tan. Her tits fit her frame perfectly. Her hips curved just pleasantly enough. She had cheerleader thighs, with a well-defined muscle rippling down them. Her ass was just slightly larger than proportional, with a deep, inviting crack that I knew held deeply special and secret pleasure. She was beautifully waxed. Her nipples were hard. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me. She ran a hand through her thick brown hair. The beauty mark below and to the side her aquiline nose – a trait she shared with her sister – drew attention to how full her lips were. She stepped around the sweatshirt on the ground, and I was drawn to the sheer black thong covering her pussy. The thin straps rose high against her hips. I checked the door to make sure the lock held, and I walked to her.