The girl from the bar
Ten minutes had passed since then, as Steve tied her acquaintance in the hotel bar, and here on you - in her eyes an expression of reproach: what are you waiting for? He stroked the palm of her stomach, fingers pulled the edge of her panties, kissed the furry pubis. - M-m-m, this luxurious dish is anything I would drink. She laughed, flopped down on the bed, spread her legs. He glanced at the mini bar: whiskey? gene? vodka? No, let it be tequila. Poured a small glass, moved to the bed. Her hand slipped between her legs, his fingers tickled the edges of the groove are slightly parted them. - Not so fast, baby, - he said. First let's aperitif. He put the glass to her pubic area, bent down to drink, she slightly relaxed leg opening, the path of his tongue. He felt her Breasts, kissed her taut nipple and started to suck it. - Your Boobs are a great snack to tequila. Tastes like lemon. Don't want a drink? What do you want? - You do not understand... - she sat up on her elbows. Her fingers quickly dealt with the clasp on his trousers, his lips touched the belly, slid lower and reached the goal. - I would actually drink. But I'm afraid this cocktail is not in your mini-bar... Glancing towards the mirror, Steve saw nimbly working her lips, naplava and then leaving. With her hands on her head, he began to rock hips and swayed so as long as not rushed into it. - It looks like a milkshake with rum, - she said, wiping his mouth with his hand, and a businesslike tone he added: - it's a hundred, man. This here rate. This is a solid restaurant - five stars. Lulu the hooker from the bar, maskirovka under resting at a fancy hotel lady, he went down the hall and locked eyes with a lady about forty, leaving a restaurant.
Crazy aristocrat
In the recommendations it is not needed: Francesca d'aosta, an aristocrat from Rome. It was rumored, she's not okay with brains - motivated violent intimate temperament. A glance at the slender figure of Steve, she went to him... of Course, this boardwalk finished in Steve's room. Barely stepped over the threshold, she fervently pressed
to him, he felt the moisture of her lips, and not only the lips, his hand penetrated into the neckline of her dress, opening the back, and proshedshaya's round ass, had caught something she immediately alerted: - Donna MIA, I'm already wet! Soft poke small hands knocking him backward onto the bed, she hurried out of his pants, lowered them, her hand already burned the desire of Steve, the Cam, the Shuttle was moving up and down. - The Countess, I will smoke, barely out of Steve, but she has not heard in a fist feeling the power of the force, arching her fingers, the lady lifted the hem of evening dresses and riding Steve started running. He had to firmly grasp her hips to keep her rapid laps of the canter, however he was quickly caught from a restless aristocrat the virus of insanity. Knocked her to the side, got out, pushed it toward the edge of the bed, lifted her hips and powerfully struck from behind. And only her long-drawn moan belatedly hinted to him that broke it, to put it mildly, does not go where intended, and slightly above - but he did not care: he fell into a rage, violently pouring into it, and on the decline of consciousness of thought: "a couple of fun days in this hotel and I will be impotent".
Flexible maid
Consciousness returned it fragrant smell. Coffee? Yes, porcelain Cup steaming on the tray. Steve with pleasure inhaled the delicious aromas to refresh makes sense: the Countess left the room only two hours a night and wore him out thoroughly. Tray fluttered from a serving table, floated to the bed. - Your Breakfast, sir. Cute maid in blue robe leaned forward, setting the tray on his knees, and the neckline of her uniform outfit seemed lush rounded Breasts. The volume and shape of the bust of Steve's puzzled, given the addition of girls: tall, slender as a reed, and amazingly flexible. She felt his gaze, he is glued to her delicious Breasts dangling, but did not and attempts to conceal its charms. "What, this is an option, thought Steve, penetrating hand over the neckline of the robe. And how could I not think of that?" Her Breasts rested comfortably in his left palm, his right hand landed on a wasp waist, stroked the thigh, buttocks groped - maid with a sly smile nodded: Yes, Yes, you're right, sir, I don't wear panties. Slightly removing his hands, she climbed on the bed, sat down,
Turkish cross-legged, straightened her back, threw back his head and seemed to fell into a sweet trance, as if petrified for a while in the Lotus position. Then he smiled, relaxed and began to unbutton the buttons of his robe. And he was holding his breath, admiring the striking plasticity of her movements, it seemed as though her slender body gutta-percha had no backbone, so smoothly it's bent, taking intricate, fantastic, bizarre. In her slow undressing was something of a Striptease, with the highest level of class: Steve felt that, despite the stormy night, he begins to wind up. She sat down on the bed in feet y Steve stood at attention, then made some imperceptible glide - slender legs went up, came down, they touched the pillow. Fold in half, she froze, imagining Steve in all the beauty of his sexy ass. He stroked her buttocks, parted them slightly - she lifted her hips. He took the hint - let it be so! - knelt down, put his hands on her hips, gently tugged her flexible body immediately responded to the call. And he slid into it pliable, seemingly boneless, carved from soft clay body, and then long and confidently sculpted from it all conceivable forms - as long as it is short piercing cry not out, by a violent spasm. And after that her face started to fill suspiciously bright white. - Hey, baby, are you? he leaned down to her to his open mouth and was taken aback, wasn't breathing. He pressed his ear to the chest: the heart is not beating. At this point, swung open the door into the room, apologizing, looked corridor. Noticed the lifeless body on the bed, stares at me: - Sir, what have you done?.. She's dead!
* * *
Crossing apartment space quick glance, the bellboy closed the door. - Hy, and well, sir! You'll be in big trouble, he was eloquently silent. But then we could negotiate. - Well hell, finally! - breathed a sigh of relief Steve stuck his hand under the pillow. Pulled out the handcuffs, quickly jumped out of bed, professional movement slipped one bracelet on the wrist of the corridor, the other snapped on the hand of the maid. - Come on, baby, your presentation of the achievements of yoga over! - he flopped into an armchair and with pleasure lit up. Well. guys, let us know. Here I was Thomas Griffin, a successful businessman from Chicago, but I'm actually Steven Kovacs, a private detective. I was hired by the owner who was extremely concerned about a strange outflow of wealthy clients... All these people who were among the regular guests, for some reason, began to stay at other hotels. In explanation, he chose not to go. Still - a respectable audience, entirely family... Hy and I immediately suggested that it's not done, first, without amorous adventures, and, secondly, blackmail. And, therefore, as the French say, - look for the woman! Here all week and was looking for... he clapped the maid on the cheek. - And you're done! Possess some of the secrets of yoga? Can hold breath for a long time, and even stop the heart? Shit! she whispered. - Although, admittedly, you were very good. Much better than all the former money bags. - I have tried - work y I have this, and this is after a week of living here! - laughed Steve. - Do you even know how much the ladies, constantly revolving in the hotel, passed through this bed, before I spotted you and your partner-whom?