Chapter 5

The voluptuous young girl stirred restlessly on the rumpled bed. Her eyes fluttered open and fought with the darkness that permeated the thick stale air of the shabby room. Strange odors wafted through her nostrils, causing her brow to wrinkle slightly as though in deep concentrated thought. Her tongue circled her lips, tasting the slight pungency of a sticky moistness around them.

Her eyes adjusted quizzically to the darkness and followed her form lying on the bed below. It was a strange position she thought to herself through the haze that still dimmed her half- sleep mind.

Her negligee was bunched almost around her neck and she could see the twin peaks of her breasts lying loosely between her eyes and the rest of her body. Her legs were spread wide apart as though in invitation to some phantom lover standing at the foot of the bed.

After a moment it came to her through the dimness. The dream! The dream she had; it had seemed so real!

The vividness of it began flickering across her mind as though she were watching a slightly out of focus television screen. Her body ached terribly.

She smoothed her hands carefully up to her breasts, touching them gently in guarded exploration. Ohhh, she moaned, they were tender. Her hands explored farther, coursing their way down over her stomach to her still open thighs. She groaned again, as her fingers touched tenderly the slight bruises lining the soft edges of her vagina. Her finger probed carefully around the red sensitive opening, the tips becoming moist from the white sticky liquid that oozed viscously from it, wetting the split of her buttocks and the bed beneath

Had Kevin really been here? The shadowy form that remained in her memory and had probed and tasted every secret part of her being had seemed so real. It had all seemed so real. Had she done it to herself?

Thoughts raced through her mind one after another. It was possible that she had. She had done it before in extreme moments of frustration but never like this. She had never gone to this extreme even in her wildest moments of desire. Could her own hands have probed so deep into her stomach and left this hot wet pool that seemed lodged there now? Could they have made her gush forth so many times in climax to soak the bed beneath her the way it was now? It had to be. There was no other explanation. She had gone completely out of her mind in her dream and had fondled her own body to the point of believing it was actually Kevin. She had done those things with her own hands and her body had reacted like that of a dirty animal in heat.

A feeling of shame came over her. She had denied her own husband the right to do those things to her, a right that was his, and then sought her own release by her own hands playing upon her body. How selfish she had been. If she hadn't left Paris perhaps the dream would have come true, perhaps Kevin wouldn't have gone insane the next time. She had been too prudish in their sexual relationship she now realized and his brutal attack on her had been brought about by her lack of understanding of his needs. The dream had proved it. Hadn't she herself turned half animal, even to the point of wantonly satisfying herself with her own probing fingers and hands.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a gentle knocking on the door. A voice called softly from outside.

"Jean, Jean dear, time to wake up."

She recognized Monique's voice and suddenly panicked.

"Oh, my God," she mumbled to herself, stumbling to her feet. "I mustn't let her see me like this. I just mustn't."

"Just a moment, I'm getting up now," she called back.

"Never mind, dear, I'm going to my room and get ready. I'll see you for dinner in an hour. Dress pretty, I've a surprise place for dinner tonight."

"Alright, Monique," Jean answered in relief. "I'll knock on your door when I'm ready."

Jean turned on the light and looked at the rumpled bed. Well, she thought, as her eyes saw the large round wet spot where her buttocks had lain, I really had myself a time. I guess there's no need in crying over spilled milk. I did it and I can't change that. After all, it was only a dream, I shouldn't feel guilty about something I couldn't control.

The warm spray of the shower felt good cascading down over her body. She washed carefully the insides of her thighs and buttocks, almost reluctant to wash away the sticky still-warm fluid from her soft pubic hair. As her fingers moved up and down the warmth of the narrow slit between her legs, cleansing it of the viscous almost dry liquid, the visions of Kevin's shadowy face smashed tightly between her yawning thighs ran through her mind. Her middle finger duplicated his lashing tongue that had flicked through her throbbing cunt lips so many long minutes before. Jean had to catch herself with her strength to withdraw her probing finger from between her legs.

The feeling of guilt returned. Good Lord, she thought to herself, what's happened to me. One small dream about sex and I'm turning into a shameless nymphomaniac. I do need Kevin, and badly.

She combed out her long dark silken hair before the mirror, letting it drape loosely down over her shoulders.

"Mmmmm," she mused to herself, that looks provocative enough. Monique said to dress well, and after my little self-inflicted orgy, I guess this is the best I can do. She noticed suddenly that the curl that usually hung down on her left shoulder was missing. What a careless nit, she scolded herself. How could I have cut that off? I thought I had been careful when I trimmed my hair last night on the train. Before she could pursue the thought any further, she heard Monique's familiar voice outside the door, calling to her to join her downstairs at the desk when she was finished.

"Well, dear, you look just ravishing tonight, I must say." Monique beamed at her as she descended the steps a few moments later. This made Jean feel wonderful. She needed something as a morale builder now and a compliment from another woman was just the thing. She always felt it was more sincere coming from another woman as they had nothing to gain by lying to you. It was good to start an evening with this kind of feeling. She handed her key to the obsequious Arab clerk, not even looking at him. The look he had given her, up and down her body, when he had brought the tea had not been forgotten and she decided that ignoring him completely was the best way to handle this.

The Arab grinned to himself as the American girl disdainfully passed the keys to him. The last time he had seen that pretty face, it was contorted in passion and she was begging him to fuck her. He wondered, smiling to himself, how those lipstick-covered lips had tasted when she had awakened. Arrogant bitch, she probably hadn't ever sucked a cock so didn't even know what it was. Well, he would take care of that little oversight before she got out of the hotel.

I wonder what she would say now if she knew she was carrying my hot load in that untouchable little belly of hers, he mused as he watch them descend the stairs to the street floor. She might just come back for more, he laughed to himself, fingering the curl of hair he had cut off as a souvenir just before leaving her room earlier.

Jean sipped contentedly on her second martini. She was happy, sitting high above Marseille overlooking the lights of the bay in the delightful restaurant Monique had chosen for them. She had wired Kevin before they left the hotel to come down immediately. The upsetting dream she had so realistically experienced this afternoon had made up her mind for her. It had even given her a feeling of confidence. She knew now she could enjoy bodily pleasures and if Kevin could ever become the kind of lover he was in her dreams then a whole new world was open to them. She took another deep sip from the smooth martini contemplating excitedly the full complete life they could have sharing each other.

"You look preoccupied, Jean," Monique said, smiling at her across the table. "I hope my company isn't boring you."