Chapter 9

It was 7:00 P.M. When they exited the terminal at the Seattle/Tacoma airport, SeaTac. Scott looked at the line of cars parked at the curb but he didn't see the black Mercedes. However, within a minute it pulled in and occupied a slot that was being vacated. Ray got out of the car and walked over to greet them. "You've got to be Brooke. My God! You're even more beautiful in person than in your pictures. I feel like I know you," he said as he took her in his arms and kissed her on the lips. He opened the front passenger door for her and said, "sit up front, honey." He took her bag, opened the trunk and tossed it and Scott's bag inside.

As Ray pulled away from the curb he said, "normally, I would suggest that we have a nice relaxing dinner in a fine restaurant and get acquainted. However, if you don't mind, maybe we can skip that. I've got fruit plates, cheese and about anything you'd care to drink in the room. Is that okay with you?"

Scott didn't say anything and politely waited for Brooke to answer for them. She said, "that's fine. I'm not really hungry anyway. We had a salad on the flight between Minneapolis and Seattle."

The drive from the airport to the hotel took just a few minutes. In the elevator, Ray pushed the button to the third floor. Room 315 was located right next to the elevator bank and almost identical to the room that Scott had slept in before. A powerful notebook computer was open on the desk; its screen was illuminated. Ray sat down at the desk and said, "I've got a couple of things to do here. Give me a sec." Then he moved the cursor, clicked and a dialogue box popped up on the screen, then he typed a few characters on the keyboard. "Scott," he said, "this is all set and I've just activated a clock. Sit here," Ray said as he stood up and stepped back so that Scott could sit. Scott, sat in the chair that Ray had just vacated and was surprised when he saw Ray take Brooke's hand and walk to the door. "I'll check in with you in an hour or so," he said just before closing the door.

By the time Scott came to his senses, got up and followed them, the hall was empty in both directions. He thought of searching the large hotel for them and realized that would be futile. He was too embarrassed to call the desk and ask if Ray West had a room registered in his name, other than 315. He went back to the computer and, for the first time, looked at the bright blue screen, with a message in large bold white letters that read:

Standby to Meet Brooke in just 5 minutes and 42 seconds.

The numbers representing seconds were descending. Scott realized that somewhere else in the hotel was another room, a room to which Ray was taking his Brooke. The computer was, obviously, already logged on to her site or a special site. Within, well, in less than 5 minutes now he would learn what was happening to her.

Scott didn't have to wait 5 minutes. Within three minutes, Ray's image--head and shoulders-- appeared on the screen. "Hi. I'm Ray West, the webmaster for Brooke's site. In a couple minutes you will meet Brooke. I know you don't want to see or hear from me. Nevertheless, I want to tell you how this will work tonight and for the remainder of the weekend. I'll introduce Brooke and then ask her the questions, all the personal questions that I'm sure you would like to ask her if you were here. Then, we'll get right to what you've all come here to see." He looked at his watch and said, "We'll keep the webcam going tonight and through the weekend. If you have to leave for some reason, don't worry, we'll be posting the video clips and stills next week. Also, DVD's will be available for your personal collections. Now, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Brooke."

Ray stepped aside and the camera pulled back. Sitting primly on a red, upholstered chair was Brooke. Her jacket was gone, her legs were crossed at the ankles and her hands were folded in her lap. She was obviously very nervous. Off camera, Ray said, "Brooke, there are lots of guys out there watching their computer screens and many more who will visit the site in the days and weeks to come who would like to get to know all about you. Can I ask you a few personal questions?"

Brooke didn't seem to know where to look. She cleared her throat and said. "Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Well, everybody watching knows your measurements and all that, let me get right to meat, of things, so to speak, no pun intended. How old were you when you lost your cherry?"

It was obvious to Scott, and it must have been obvious to everyone watching, that the question caught her off guard. "I beg your pardon," she said as she became obviously flushed.

"How old were you the first time you got fucked?" Ray asked more coarsely.

"I was nineteen," she said so softly hearing her answer was difficult.

"How old?"

In a slightly louder voice she said, "nineteen, I was nineteen the first time."

"In your bio, you said that you've never been with another man, Is that right?"

"Yes," she said, and looked down at her hands, "I've never been with anyone but my husband."

Scott couldn't believe what he was seeing. She filled the screen from the top of her head to the soles of her shoes. She was breathtaking. Ray had added a touch by placing a white flower over her ear. It looked like a gardenia to Scott. Then the camera moved in for a closeup of her face. She looked into the lens, then away. The camera panned down, past her bare shoulders, and lingered on her bosom. It was now known to all those watching--not just Scott who already knew--that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard and pointy. Then the camera was lowered to her lap. She was fidgeting with her hands. Then the camera stopped at her knees. More than half of her thighs were bare and the mysterious space between her legs and under her dress was in shadow. Then it dropped down even further to her firm calves and trim ankles that were encircled with the straps from her black high heel sandals.

As Ray asked the next question, the camera panned back up to her face to record her answer. "Brooke, do you like sex?"

She blushed again and said, "I enjoy it with my husband."

"I guess that means you like to fuck. Do you like to fuck, Brooke?"

Again, she looked down at her hands and softly said, "yes, yes I do."

"That's just great. If you love to fuck, then say it."