Chapter 8

Fiona could not help but think that Doris and Amy were like a pair of incorrigible schoolgirls not acting like the adults they really were. On one hand, she had to admit their constant foolishness did make her feel a lot younger than her 65 years, but the giggling and the silly pranks were starting to get on her nerves.

She longed for a respite with some mature thoughts not centered on necessities hidden under French knickers tucked safely away between her legs. Fiona was beginning to think that the instigator Doris was a bit of a Nymphomaniac with the way that she seemed up for almost anything morning, noon, and night.

After dinner, they planned to go to the casino just to see if it was anything like in the exciting films with the strong virile men and the beautiful women who languished about looking for a quick tumble in a quiet corner.

When they entered the main gambling room of the casino, it was a bit disappointing because everyone was so engrossed in the game in front of them that they scarcely noticed the three females looking so out of place that they might have well had signboards hung around their necks saying,

"British Tourist, if found, return to Hotel"

They each had a complimentary chip from the hotel for ten Eurodollars as an inducement to get them to gamble. Fiona had a problem with gambling because her dear departed husband had a habit of finding horses that managed to come in last whenever he made a sizable wager. He generally was in the foulest of moods for days after his losing bets forced him to leave the track and find his way home with empty pockets. She thought he should have told her of the circumstances of his loss to at least compensate her lack of income for the house with a story of why he picked this horse or that, but he kept his lips sealed tight and just drank his tea and read the newspaper to keep her silly questions at bay.

Of course, they all lost their complimentary chips within a matter of minutes and both Doris and Amy emptied their purses to buy new chips now that the fever had gotten into their blood. Fiona just took her "free" gin and tonic and headed to the ballroom to watch the dance competition taking place in the spacious hall. It was truly therapeutic to just sit and watch the couples whirl about in the intricate steps of a certain ballroom category. Right at the moment, they were doing the Tango, the dance of love. Just watching the nimble and nubile females glued to their partner's bodies was enough to make Fiona's juices start to flow.

Magically, a gin and tonic appeared on her table.

When she asked the waiter if he was reading her mind, the staunchly blank-faced young man replied,

"It came from that gentleman over there, Madame."

Fiona peered in the direction of the waiter's finger and saw her massage specialist from the beach visit. He waved at her and she beckoned him with her hand wondering what his game was.

"Hello, pretty woman, I hope you are all loose of your tenseness and your tight muscles."

She looked at him and saw he was considerably older than what she had thought. It was probably because when you are on the wrong side of 60, one tends to magnify the differences in age. The boy was obviously not a boy, but a young man in his late 30s with a boyish look to his face.

"Why did you pretend to be a beach boy this morning?"

"Why, my pretty lady, I only asked if you wanted a massage and you agreed. I never professed to be anything at all except interested in your lovely shape and delicious looking lips."

Fiona decided right then and there that this one was a definite keeper regardless of his intentions or possible plans to scam her of everything she owned. He was far too tasty a treat to pass up because of her fears of the age difference.

The sounds of the Latin beat drove deep into Fiona's brain but it drove even deeper into her now thoroughly soaked and aroused pussy.

She wanted to get out on the floor and feel Carlito's firm body next to hers but the smiling and thoroughly charming male told her,

"Let us go to your room and I can show you some steps I learned from my mother."

The room was quiet because both Doris and Amy were back in the casino drinking free wine coolers and playing the slot machines with high volume dirty talk banter.

Carlito told her that in order to feel the movement of his skin to skin instructions, she needed to strip to her undies and he did the same. They stood there almost naked and then she was in his arms with the pulsating touch of his dark skin rubbing like a thousand snakes all over her pale white flesh. She was suspended in a whirl of desired wantonness craving the "Mister Goodbar" of her fantasies.

Moments later, they were entangled together in a jumble of frenzied limbs and shattered nerve endings. Fiona tried to catch her breath but just then the shocking realization that a magnificently sized large penis was slowly entering into her still tight sheath drove her to just repeat the words, "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck" over and over again like a broken record.

Fiona knew that this unexpected impalement was going to be memorable because even her seldom agitated pucker hole was dancing a "Tango" of its own accord. Her nipples were little brass buttons needing to be polished by a knowing tongue. She threw back her head and moaned like the slut she always wanted to be. Just then, on the edge of her orgasm, Doris and Amy walked giggling into the bedroom of the hotel suite. They both went silent as Carlito drained his rock-hard cock deep inside Fiona's thirsty pussy. They could see the dark-skinned man shudder as the last spurts left his buried tool. Fiona looked at them over Carlito's shoulder but she really was not fully aware of their presence. All she could think of was how she would be able to keep Carlito's beautiful cock inside her and have him do her one more glorious time.