Chapter 10

At the end of the first week of December Devlin gave up her morning dance class. There just wasn't 60 minutes in the morning, not unless she was going to change her major to Classical Dance. And that wasn't going to happen any time soon, not without breast reduction surgery and a whole lot of other changes in her life.

Ironically it was something her Business professor said that made her drop the morning class. They were discussing the Cost of Doing Business, and he mentioned how you had to identify all of the costs of a product. For example, you had a widget that you could buy for 50 cents. Your market research suggests people wouldn't pay more than $1.00 for the product. That seems reasonable, but the special display case costs $500, the lighting costs $300, the special training for the employees cost $2,000, and the minimum you can buy is 1,000 units. By the time you add up all of the costs you realize that you'll lose money if you don't sell it for at least $2.50, and preferably $3.00.

He gave other examples, and she was surprised to learn that on one of the more popular Ford cars the company lost $500 on every sale. "So why did they keep selling it?" one of the boys in the class asked.

"Because Ford executives learned that 75% of the people who bought that first car would buy a Ford as their next car, and that, when viewed across their entire product line, that low end car was a winner."

Devlin applied the same logic to her schedule. Dance class only took 60 minutes, but she got up 45 minutes earlier on those mornings to get dressed and get over to the rehearsal hall. And then she needed another 45 minutes to shower, change and get to her first class. Those 60 minutes quickly grew into 2 1⁄2 hours out of the morning. The 'Cost of Doing Business' for her Dance class was 2.5 times what she thought it was and she couldn't afford the time.

She wasn't sure what she would do for exercise, she didn't think the swimming class she took as part of her P.E. requirement really gave her the exercise she wanted. Fortunately she ran into Dee Andrews, a junior who lived on the second floor of Haynie. Dee had organized a dancercize class in the morning, 30 minutes of modern dance in the basement. Devlin decided it would have to be enough, especially when she realized she was gaining nearly 90 minutes of time.

The second thing that happened - the first was that her feet stopped hurting from going up on point every morning - was that she gained about five pounds because with the extra time she was now eating breakfast, even if it was only yogurt, fruit and coffee. Right away she felt better, and Danny noticed the change.

"I wouldn't think a handful of pounds would be so noticeable," she told him when he commented on it. They were in the Extended Stay Suites on the west side of town. The management here didn't seem to question what went on in their rooms.

He ran his finger up her ribs, smiling as he circled her breast. "Well, not everybody gets the perspective I do, but your ribs are less visible." She was straddling him with his cock firmly planted in her middle. He cupped her breasts, squeezing them gently. "I like how your nipples look when I do this, sort of like a berry on top of a mound of ice cream."

"Well, that's the first time I've heard a girl's breasts compared to ice cream."

He sucked her nipples, nibbling at them with his lips before pulling back, stretching them out into dark red nubs. "You should browse through the older literature and see what men have compared women's breasts to." He kissed them again. "And not just men, either. Women have written some pretty steamy things about their own anatomy."

"Lesbian literature." She made a face. "I never cared for it. I suppose guys do."

"Some guys do, some don't. Guys are fascinated by watching two women together, you saw that at Emma's."

"Yeah, and I never really understood why. Most of those women weren't bi-sexual."

"Most of the women who get together with other women at a swinger's party do it only to turn on the guys around them."

"I can see that. Know what turns me on?" She squeezed her tummy muscles, smiling at the look on his face.

"How about this?" Danny gave a little hitch, sliding a little deeper into her.

"Ah, yes, I like that, too." She began rocking back and forth, repeatedly driving herself onto his hardness. He'd been playing with her breasts ever since she had impaled herself on his length. Now she leaned back. She saw his eyes drop to where their bodies were joining. She wished that she could actually see his cock sliding into her, but that wasn't to be, she couldn't bend enough. Instead she'd just have to settle for how incredible it felt to be taking his hardness.

She could feel the tension preceding her orgasm, and she silently rode that feeling into a wave of pleasure that left her gasping for breath. Danny rolled her over and started thrusting as hard and as fast as he could. She wrapped her legs around him, one hand on his bottom, the other on his shoulders. Danny's face was a mask of lust as he drove her out of her mind. She came in a wild wave of heat that left her screaming soundlessly from the sheer intensity of it. As she came down he sped up, finally plunging deep and holding himself there as he moaned through his own completion.

In the silence of the room she could hear the sound of snow against the window, the squeaking sound of the wheels of the cart of the maid making up the neighboring rooms, she could even hear the changes in sound of the heater as it automatically clicked to a higher setting.

Danny woke up enough to kiss her. She kissed him back, content to drift secure in his arms for the rest of their time here. Eventually they had to part. As they were getting dressed she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"Maybe I have put on a couple of pounds," she said, pressing her hand against her tummy.

"Your clothes fit better," he said.

"Think so?" She turned again. "Um, maybe." She was wearing a knee-length black skirt, her white turtleneck sweater and her black leather boots. "It's hard to tell with this."

"Don't ask me, most guys don't past your chest."

"I've noticed."

"Your face doesn't have that gaunt look of imminent starvation."

"Think so?" She pushed her fingers against her cheeks. Then she saw the time. "Oops, gotta run. English class won't wait."

She didn't feel as rushed as she had earlier in the term. She was still doing as many things, but she didn't feel like she was falling behind. So when the semester ended just before Christmas she actually felt comfortable driving back to Toluca. She took books for each of her next classes; she'd learned to read ahead over Thanksgiving. She hadn't, and discovered that the professors assumed she had.

She didn't see Jeff the entire Christmas break. She and Danny did manage to get together a couple of times, but between visiting relatives and dashing off to see relatives and family they had to be more discrete than usual. It was almost a relief to get back to regular classes in the middle of January.

"What did the tutor say?" she asked Jeff when she saw him. The new term had started just a few days before. Her own grades had been pretty good; not Dean's List, but in the upper third of her class. Jeff's had been pretty good, too. Not spectacular, but somewhere in the middle of his class.

"He was satisfied with my grades, but he thinks I'll need to work with him through the first few weeks of this term."

Devlin grimaced. Jeff and his tutor met three times a week in the evening. Thursday evenings were the only time they had together now. She wasn't sure how she'd feel if this continued much longer.

There was more bad news; when she had completed her paper for her Business class she realized that she was barely breaking even. None of the hotels would sign a long-term contract and room fees were killing her profits. The only time she really made money was when she gave her presentation in someone's home.

At the end of January, when she was well into her Business Economics class and had to reanalyze her paper in light of what she'd just learned, she showed the paper to Danny. He looked it over with a practiced eye. "I can't fault your conclusions," he said at last. "I think your analysis is correct."

"That's what my professor said."

"And I think you've identified your biggest cost." He stared out the window at the snow-covered cityscape, thinking. "Let me look around. I might be able to find something."

"See if you can find something other than these hotel rooms for us," she said. "They're nice, but, well, I don't know, somehow it feels cheap."

He nodded. "We may have another reason to move, too. The city is going to start cracking down on prostitution, especially in the hotel rooms. That's not for public consumption, by the way."

"How did you hear about it?"

"A memo came through the other day. For the next few weeks we're supposed to be careful when booking hotel rooms. Apparently prostitutes have been using fake businesses to rent the rooms."

"Ah, yeah, I can see that. They'd probably think we're up to the same thing."

"The difference is they do it for pay." Danny stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I'll look around, there's bound to be something I can find."

He called her a few days later. A storm had swept in across the plains, blowing snow all over campus, giving her a good excuse to curl up with her books and hot cocoa and ignore the outside world.

"How much do you know about the Athletic Club?" Danny asked.

"Not much. Why?" She could vaguely remember the building. It was a couple of blocks off campus and was supposed to be an historic example of the architecture of the 1920's. As far as she was concerned it was an historic example of ugly architecture.

"Your company might want to get a room there."

"Oh? Why? We're not really into athletics."

"A lot of people use meeting rooms there for sales presentations or to put up people who are in town for an extended period. It's private, they cater lunches, they sign long-term contracts, lots of reasons."

"Hmm. How much?" He quoted a price. "It beats hotel rooms," he added.

"I should think so," she said, thinking about the prices. "I pay twice that for a hotel room. How can they afford it?"

"Well, first they charge membership fees besides the book rates, so you'll have to join the Athletic Club. Second, they're fully amortized. Hotels are still paying off their construction loans, the Athletic Club did that back in the 1930's. By the way, the bank is just down the street."

She smiled when she realized where he was going. "You said it's private?"

"Very. They assure that to their clientele."

"Why don't I check it out and get back to you," she said after some more thought. "I don't suppose they could wire the place for online access, too."

"They may already have that," Danny said. "Let me know what room you get."

"I will." She laughed to herself. "I'll let you know."

The woman in the Manager's Office of the Athletic Club was quite accommodating. "Intimate apparel," she said, eyeing the catalog Devlin had brought. None of the bras were at all "racy".

"I need a place for my customers to try them on," Devlin said. "And I need some place that can cater either a Continental Breakfast or a light lunch. A friend told me about the Athletic Club."

"I can see why you'd want privacy," the woman said, nodding. "Have you had any trouble finding a place?"

"So far it's been hotels, even when I'm out of town. Most of the hotels aren't convenient to the University Hospital, and I get a lot of customers from there. Well, there and the dorms."

The woman had nodded and pulled out a standard rental agreement. "You'll want your company lawyers to review this," she said as she slid it across her desk. "After they do, bring it back and we'll set things up."

Devlin smiled her thanks, left the catalog for the woman to look at, she was a potential customer, after all, and headed for the cubicle she rented in a nearby building as her "office". It was really just one cubicle in a large room with a woman to sort the mail and answer the phones, but it had complete business services and kept her from cluttering her dorm room with all of that.

Two days later Devlin was back with the signed contract. An hour later she was on the phone to Danny.

"Room 632. There are vacant rooms on both sides of it. The only down side is that the Athletic Club isn't wired for internet access just yet. Well, they are, but only in the Manager's Office."

"That'll change," Danny said. An hour later he was back on the phone to her. "Did you know there's a door between 632 and 634?"

"I don't have a key."

"That's not a problem. I'll see you there tomorrow afternoon after your last class."

The next afternoon he showed her what he meant. He took several long, slender rods out of his pocket and used them to unlock the door. It creaked horribly when he pulled it open. Devlin looked a little alarmed.

"Do you think someone could have heard that?"

"Why don't you oil the hinges," was all he said. While she applied WD-40 to the hinges he unscrewed the plate on the latch, reached inside and pulled out the entire lock mechanism.

"I'll be back in about an hour," he said, putting the lock in his pocket. When he came back he had a pair of small door handles. "Put this in your purse," he said, handing her one. "I'll keep the other."

"How does it work?"

"Watch." He reassembled the lock and shut the door. "Go ahead, try it."

She did so, and the door didn't budge.

"Okay." He took the door handle from his pocket. Inserting it in the hole, he pushed a button and turned the handle. The door opened soundlessly.

"Very good," she said. She took her door handle and did the same thing. She smiled as she gave him an anticipatory look. "You just had this made, didn't you."

"I spent four years in the Army to help pay for college. It's amazing what the Army will teach you. Don't let people know about this."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"It's a little late to do anything today. What are you doing for lunch the day after tomorrow?"

She gave him a saucy smile. "I know what I'd like to be doing."

He leaned back, smiling. "Why don't we plan on it?"

"If it works," she said, closing the door behind them, "who knows? It might turn out to be something regular."

"When can you get over here?"

She knelt in front of him and unzipped his pants. "Oh, around noon." She fished inside, then pulled out his cock and licked its head. "My last morning class is over at 11:30, and I don't have another class till 2:30."

"Ummph." His cock stiffened quickly. "You don't have to do this. Not right now."

She looked at his cock a little closer and then sucked just the head. "Consider it a reward for a job well done."

She licked his balls. They were already tight against his body. He groaned slightly. She shifted back to his cock, jacking her hand back and forth on it. He must have been wound up already; it had been nearly a week since they had gotten together. He began moving slightly, that meant he was close. She concentrated on the head of his cock where most of the nerves were. She reached out with her lips and gently sucked his balls into her mouth. He gave another groan, and his hips flexed convulsively.

She leaned back just in time to watch him shoot a long stream of white cum a good foot in the air. It seemed to hang there, glistening in the light of the room, before falling across her face and hair. A second stream, and a third, it felt like warm sticky rain landing on her. He finally relaxed, and she kissed the head of his cock a thank-you.

"You look a mess," he said when he opened his eyes. He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You need to clean up."

"Ordinarily you should complement the girl, or thank her."

"Okay, you're a sexy mess," he said, and kissed her.

"I owe it all to you," she said, and kissed him back.

He cradled her breast with his hand, then his hand slid down her tummy and into her slacks. He slipped his finger beneath the elastic of her panties, sliding through the folds of her sex to find her clit. When he found it he gently began rubbing her, just a light touch that barely brushed the sensitive head.

She ran her hands up over his shoulders and back, feeling the strong muscles there. He was so solid, so strong, so male. She wanted to engulf him within her. She wanted to join with him until each was lost in the other, but they really didn't have time. It was late enough as it was. They would have to let it go with this.

He rolled her on to her back, pulling her slacks and panties down far enough he could gain access to her core. She cradled his head with her hands as he kissed and tongued his way deep into her sex. He knew exactly what she liked and what he needed to do to please her. His tongue swiped through her, teased her entrance, finally settling at the hottest point. She gave herself over to his marvelous tongue. All she could do was lie there as he probed her most intimate places, licking, sucking, touching, teasing. She moaned her appreciation as he worked. She was totally taken with him, the smell of his sweat, the exciting smell of his cum, the salty taste of his skin. She could feel the rising sensation, that aching longing for her release. He kept licking, kept exciting her, kept pushing her higher and higher. She clung to him as her will crumbled. She clung to him as she balanced on the precipice. She clung to him as the world came down to his hot, strong, hard tongue and the way it was driving her out of her mind. And then... and then there was no time for thought as the urgency of the moment spun her away in one wild burst of feeling that blotted out everything else.

Two days later Devlin paused in the lobby of the Athletic Club. It was 11:45, it was raining heavily outside and she felt soaked. Luckily she'd worn her boots - her shoes would have been ruined by the rain. She shook out her umbrella and unbuttoned her raincoat as she approached the front desk.

"Quite a downpour, ma'am," the desk clerk said.

Devlin felt her hair, making sure that was still dry. "It's pretty bad out there," she agreed. "I was supposed to have some boxes delivered here today. Could you check on that? The name is Devlin McCabe, Custom Apparel Enterprises."

The clerk dug through some papers. "Ah, yes, Ms. McCabe. They came in late yesterday afternoon." He pointed at a man in a gray uniform at the end of the counter. "Ralph can help you with them."

"Thank you." She went down to the man at the end of the counter. "Hi," she said. "I'm Devlin McCabe, and the clerk said there are some boxes for me."

Ralph was an older man with an oval face and gray hair combed over his bald spot. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "I have them in back." He eyed her critically. "They're a bit heavy. If you would tell me what room you want them delivered to, I can bring them right up."

Devlin smiled her thanks. "Room 632."

The man nodded politely. "I'll get them right up, ma'am."

She had brought her signs and graphics boards over the day before. The boxes contained her sales brochures, display racks and fabric samples. She unlocked the room and was sorting through things when Ralph showed up with a large flat bed cart.

"Where do you want these, ma'am?"

"Put them on the floor," Devlin said. "I'll be a while unpacking and sorting things."