Twelve Nights

by Remy, Carole

  “Come quick, lover,” she offered. “We’ll do it slow later.”

  Jimmy held himself above her, so that only their genitals touched. He pumped in and out, quickly setting a furious rhythm. Her vagina squeezed and her hips moved up and down in perfect synchrony with him. Almost before it began it was over. Jimmy’s back arched and his eyes squeezed shut as life fluid pumped from his fire hose. He leaned down and kissed the girl on the cheek.

  “That was good, Monica,” he complimented her.

  “We aim to please, Jimmy,” she teased. He liked her sense of humor.

  Jimmy stood up and stripped off his clothes.

  “I’m going to take a shower. Do you want to join me?”

  “The red will wash out of my hair,” Monica explained. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

  “Fair enough,” Jimmy agreed.

  Five minutes later they stood under the hot spray. The premium suite had shower heads at both ends of the tub, so both bodies stayed hot and wet. Jimmy handed Monica a bar of soap. She lathered his chest and then dragged the soap down each arm. He lifted one elbow and she gently pulled his armpit hair and then squeezed the suds into his skin.

  “Does that feel good?” she asked.

  Jimmy nodded. Monica took the tube of toothpaste she had brought into the shower and squeezed a portion onto her tongue. She licked the toothpaste onto Jimmy’s nipples and sucked and nipped and tongued the hard little buds to a goose-pimpled ache.

  “I want you right now,” Jimmy groaned. “Right here.”

  “Be patient, sweetheart,” Monica crooned. “Good things are worth waiting for.”

  Her hands were soapy again and lathering his abdomen. He waited impatiently for the agile fingers to move lower. They didn’t. Instead Monica leaned into him and massaged his chest with hers. The soapy slickness slid between their bodies and Jimmy grabbed her head and pulled her roughly into a deep kiss.

  “Now,” he growled.

  “I’ll do you with my mouth,” she offered.

  Jimmy nodded and watched as Monica squeezed more toothpaste onto her tongue. She knelt in front of him, placed his hands on her shoulders and grasped his organ. She carefully licked the toothpaste all over his erect cock and Jimmy was glad of his grip on her shoulders. When his cock was a foamy slick white shaft and his groans louder than the shower spray, she finally guided him into her dark moist cavity.

  Jimmy lost awareness of her exact movements as her tongue and teeth suddenly were everywhere goading him toward another rapid orgasm. Fingers gripped his buttocks and nails dug painfully, erotically into his taut flesh. The suction of her mouth pulled him faster than his wont and he struggled to maintain a semblance of control over breathing and heartbeat. Unsuccessfully. She was in control and he knew it and his cock knew it and exploded at her insistent and repeated and irresistible demand. She choked only once as he emptied into her, his pump organ rocking her head back and forth. He steadied her head with his hands and continued pumping until the final vibrations stilled. His cock was still rock hard.

  “That was good,” he gasped inadequately.

  “You’re still hard,” Monica commented. She sounded distressed.

  “It’s okay. I came.”

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  Jimmy leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She was right. The red was leaking out of her hair and staining her shoulders orange.

  “You were perfect,” he reassured her. “I’m a hard case.”

  Jimmy batted his still erect cock.

  “Can I have a minute before we go again?” She still sounded worried.

  “Everything’s fine, Monica.” Her anxiety was not unique and Jimmy sighed. He doubted he would ever find a woman who actually wanted to have sex as much and as often as he did. He sighed again. “Let’s wash that red out of your hair.”

  Jimmy lifted Monica by the elbow and stood her in front of him. He gently bent her head toward him and poured on a generous dollop of shampoo. His strong fingers massaged as he worked the shampoo into her scalp.

  “You’re hired,” Monica called out from under his hands. “That feels heavenly.”

  Jimmy redoubled his efforts under her praise. When at last he turned her around and under the spray, the last hint of red washed down the drain at their feet.

  “Do you want conditioner?” he asked.

  Monica nodded and Jimmy squeezed some into his palm. He again massaged her as he worked the salve into and through her hair, combing with his fingers as he worked. He felt Monica relax under his ministrations. Once they were both well-rinsed, they wrapped themselves in the giant hotel bathrobes and drifted back out to the main room.

  “I’m going to order room service,” Jimmy told her. “Are you hungry?”

  “Starved,” Monica admitted.

  “What would you like?”

  “Whatever you get is fine for me.”

  “Pretend I’m not paying you, Monica. Tell me what you’d like.”

  “A BLT no mayo and a diet coke.”

  “That’s it?”

  Monica smoothed her hands down the concealing robe. Jimmy laughed and picked up the phone. For the next hour, they sat and watched CNN as they waited and then ate. Jimmy was impressed by Monica’s grasp of economic and political affairs as she added intelligent commentary to the news reports. She eventually admitted that she was working on her master’s degree in sociology and financing her way by selling her body.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to get a college loan?” Jimmy asked.

  “Too much to pay back,” Monica said around a bite of sandwich. “Besides, I like sex.”

  “You don’t feel used?”

  “Sometimes,” she admitted. “It can get ugly. But I’ve learned how to take care of myself. I’m really careful. I checked you out, you know.”

  “How did I rate?”

  “First class all the way,” she smiled. “If I were an unscrupulous girl, I’d think you had meal ticket written on your forehead.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “Nope. I’m the independent type.”

  “I like you, Monica. Let’s fuck.”

  “Absolutely.” She stood and kissed him on the cheek. “Just let me brush my teeth.”

  When she came back into the room, she asked him prosaically, “How many more times do you think you can do it?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “I’ve never run out yet.”

  “Is that a challenge?” Monica smiled.

  “No, sweetheart,” Jimmy stood and pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want to wear you out. You say when we’re done.”

  “You’re the sweetheart, Jimmy,” Monica whispered in his ear. “I’ll make sure you get your money’s worth.”

  Soon they were naked on the bare bed, covers and pillows pushed to the floor. Jimmy slid his hand down between Monica’s legs and felt hot slick wetness. His finger found her bud of desire and twitched it experimentally. She jerked up into his hand.

  “You don’t need to do me,” she whispered. Jimmy ignored her.

  “Do you like that?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she gasped.

  He continued the same motion, gently pushing and stroking the tiny organ. He hoped she was telling the truth and not faking for the money. His cock had finally wilted as they ate and now it lifted its head and looked around like an emerging groundhog.

  “Don’t fake anything, Monica,” he warned.

  “I’m not,” she gasped.

  Jimmy lowered his head and touched her with the tip of his tongue. He slid two fingers inside her cavity and settled his mouth firmly onto her soft folds. His tongue found her bud and flicked it rapidly as her breath accelerated to match. When he nipped her gently with his teeth, he was rewarded with a gush of hotter stickier fluid and he knew she had come.

  “God, Jimmy,” she moaned. “Thank you!”

  “Are you ready?”

  “Yes! Come inside me now. Please,” she gasped. “I want to feel you inside me.
”

  Jimmy took her at her word and lifted himself above her. Her fingers shaking, she unrolled another condom down his length. Either she wasn’t faking her arousal, or she was the best actress he’d ever seen. She slid him inside her and sighed as his fullness found its home. This time he rested on his elbows and allowed their bodies to meld. He took her head between his hands and massaged her temples with his thumbs. She wrapped her legs around him and twined her fingers in his hair.

  “You’re the best, Jimmy,” she breathed and bit his ear.

  He began to pump quietly inside her. This time he was determined to go slow, to milk the fuck for every ounce of pleasure for them both. Then Monica sunk her teeth into his upper arm. A hickey. She was giving him a hickey. Thoughts of slow pleasure evaporated into animal lust and the pace of his cock quickened. Jimmy slipped his hands from her head and down to her buttocks. There was something he wanted to know before he got too lost to think.

  He slid one fingertip around and around her soft asshole. Monica sighed and arched up into his body. His hand followed her movement and his finger grew bolder. He pressed the tip inside her anus. She didn’t protest. He thrust further and felt the squeeze of her vaginal muscles. Was it protest or… No, it was coming orgasm, he decided as her buttocks clenched around his finger even as her vagina hugged his cock in a pulsing embrace. Jimmy held tight to his control until he felt her ass relax around his finger. She’d been here before. She liked it.

  Jimmy left his finger inside her as he pumped harder. Her squeezing augmented every sensation and soon he was lost to blind and primitive rutting. Dimly he heard her encouragement as he pounded inside her harder and harder, closer and closer. The explosion when it came was stronger than the time before. Jimmy collapsed onto her chest, then raised himself and kissed her bruisingly on the lips. His mouth attacked and devoured her as his cock had eaten her softness below. She belonged to him, his primitive brain crowed.

  But she didn’t. Sense returned. He paid her and so did a lot of other men. But, God, she was good. He rolled off her and lay on his back, still panting. His cock wilted slowly in the cool air. Monica rolled onto her side and draped herself over his chest.

  “You really are the best, Jimmy,” she crooned.

  “You’re not bad yourself,” Jimmy chuckled.

  “Not bad?” she teased. “I’m the best too. What we have here is the best and the best.”

  “Sounds like a new sitcom.”

  “More like a porno movie,” Monica laughed.

  They lay quietly for several moments. Then Monica’s hand found Jimmy’s cock.

  “It’s so cute when it’s limp,” she commented, stretching and twisting it above his belly.

  “It won’t stay that way for long if you keep doing what you’re doing,” Jimmy warned.

  “Good.”

  Monica knelt over Jimmy’s legs and lowered her head to his crotch. She maneuvered the still limp penis into her mouth, where it instantly sprang to attention. She sucked gently then raked the growing shaft with her teeth. Then she raised her head.

  “How old are you, Jimmy?” she asked.

  “Forty-two.”

  “Amazing,” she murmured and lowered her mouth to its task.

  As Jimmy felt himself approaching the point of no return, he lifted Monica’s head.

  “Will you let me come into your anus?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Monica whispered.

  “Do you like it?”

  “I …” Monica began enthusiastically. Then her expression softened. “I’m okay with it.”

  “I won’t try to have an orgasm. It would take too long on the fourth go. I just want to feel myself inside you.”

  “Come on in,” Monica offered with a smile. “How do you want me?”

  Jimmy positioned her frog-like before him as he stood beside the bed. This time he put two condoms over his organ then slicked her asshole with jelly.

  “Here I come,” he warned.

  He held her buttocks steady and pressed his penis into the little rear mouth. It tensed and he waited for her to relax. When the opening felt soft, he pushed hard once and heard a gasp as the muscles tightened again. The pressure was almost too much for pleasure, but not quite.

  “Try to relax,” he murmured. “I’ll go slow.”

  “It’s okay,” Monica gasped. He could hear how hard she worked to steady and slow her breathing. “I’m ready.”

  Though the muscles were still tight, Jimmy thrust again hard. Sometimes quickly was the best. Monica trembled and he held her steady in his hands. One more good push. Ah. He could hear her panting now and feel the throbbing of her overstretched muscles. But God, it felt good. He tried a gentle in and out, barely an inch. Monica gasped. She was too tight.

  Jimmy leaned over her back and wrapped his left arm around her waist to hold her firm. He knew his penis shifted inside her with the movement and he apologized mentally. Just hold on for one minute, he promised. I’ll make it better. His more agile right hand found her cunt and cupped the softness for a moment. Then he slid a finger into the crease and found her clitoris.

  “No,” she protested weakly. “You don’t need to…”

  “Hush,” Jimmy whispered. ‘This will feel good.”

  He massaged her gently, knowing the ache in her rear made arousal slow. But it would come. Patiently he worked each sensitive spot, touching and teasing and then pressing insistently. All the time his cock throbbed in the snug embrace of her penetrated rear. Eventually her breathing became more regular and then shortened to aroused rather than pain-managing pants. He slipped his finger inside her dripping cavity and knew she was almost there. He twisted his finger inside her and savored the almost-orgasm.

  Then his hand went back to work and he stroked and twisted and pulled. Now that he knew she was ready, he pushed her insistently. Stroking and stroking and pinching until… Her vibration spread from womb to anus and then engulfed her whole body. Jimmy braced his legs to hold her safe as he surrendered to the beautiful tremors. Her muscles kneaded him like the most skillful masseuse, the contractions more rapid than could be achieved by volition. Ah, to be in a woman’s ass when she came.

  Slowly the tremors subsided. He wanted to feel it again. His cock ached for the massage to continue. His hand adjusted on her crotch and his finger snaked out toward the clitoris, the key to her and his ecstasy. Monica whimpered and Jimmy’s desire began to fade. She was a limp weight in his arms, he realized. He couldn’t do this to her again, not even for what he planned to pay her. He eased himself slowly from her backside and lay her gently on the bed.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as his hand smoothed her hair.

  His only answer was her trembling. He lay down beside her and cradled her body spoonlike with his. He murmured nonsense to her as his hand rubbed her back. Slowly her trembling ceased.

  “Did I hurt you too much?” Jimmy asked. “Did I go too far?”

  She turned in his arms and hugged him fiercely.

  “I’ve never done that,” she admitted. “It was…”

  Jimmy waited.

  “Unbelievable.” Monica smiled. “Overwhelming. I’m just now recovering.”

  “I’m sorry if…”

  Monica put her finger to Jimmy’s lips and hushed him.

  “No apologies. It was good. It was so powerful, I fell apart a little.”

  “You are quite a woman, Monica.” Jimmy kissed her forehead. “I’m going to leave now. You sleep here till the morning. The room’s paid for. Order up whatever you want for breakfast.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jimmy took a short hot shower followed by a cold rinse which effectively doused his lingering erection. By the time he dressed and returned to the room, Monica was fast asleep. He kissed her once more on the forehead and tucked a five thousand dollar tip into her fist, then turned and walked out the door.

  Chapter 7

  Angela and Aggie arrived at Vancouver International Airport at 11:20 am on Satu
rday, December 13. Aggie must have bought a travel guide; she snapped open a large black umbrella as they stepped out the doors toward the taxis. Rain swept in under the overhang drenching unprepared travelers within seconds. Angela huddled under the umbrella with her twin and stared out into the dark day.

  “Brrr,” she commented. “I thought Vancouver weather was mild because of the ocean.”

  “It’s the humidity,” Aggie explained. “Damp cold is way colder than dry cold.”

  The twins entered the first in the long line of cabs that waited at the curb.

  “Where to, ma’am?” The driver’s words were more understandable by their necessary content that by their actual sound. His accent was as obvious as his turban. He smiled and displayed broad, strong teeth. “You go downtown?”

  “The Vancouver Hotel,” Angela said.

  “I thought we were staying at the …”

  Angela poked her sister sharply in the ribs. Aggie looked at her askance but didn’t protest further. The view over the Arthur Laing Bridge and up Granville was blanketed in thick misty rain, but that didn’t stop Aggie from enumerating the sights as they passed: the south arm of the Fraser River, the Marpole district and then Shaugnessy. Angela drank in the British style mansions that lined even the major thoroughfare through the exclusive neighborhood. She could picture herself in one of those, with a giant bedroom and a garden full of roses.

  The cab went straight as an arrow, though slowly to Angela’s New York expectations. The cab driver was calm; he didn’t get angry at other motorists, didn’t shoot yellow lights. Angela glanced at the clicking meter. No wonder – the fare was obscene. When they pulled into the downtown area, the traffic slowed almost to a halt. Aggie craned her head looking up at the skyscrapers that made an alley of their street.