Hot Sheets (17 page)

"Oh, that
sounds like an order, Mr Hunt."

"It is!"

"Oh, dear! You
will write to your MP, won't you?" the confused biddy warbled,
wandering into the bar.

"Yes, in the
strongest possible terms."

Screams of
female lust emanating from the dining room again as shrieks and
giggles came from the functions room, Mike wondered what the hell
he was turning his hotel into. A brothel, he reflected happily,
thinking of the cash bulging his jacket pocket. He'd only need two
room sixty-nine punters a night and his takings would total two
thousand, eight hundred pounds a week - tax free! And if he could
accommodate four punters a night...

Grabbing the
ringing phone, he sighed, wondering how many other interruptions
there'd be that evening. "Stokepot Towers!" he grunted.

"Inspector
Dickwipe here."

"Oh,
again?"

"Yes, again.
Would you be kind enough to come down to the station, Mr Hunt?"

"When?"

"Now."

"Now? Christ,
I'm very busy at the moment, Inspector, can't it wait?"

"No, I'm
afraid not. It's in connection with a woman who was allegedly
savaged by a pack of wild cats while she was taking a bath in your
hotel."

"What? A pack
of wild cats? In the bath?"

"Just come
down to the station, Mr Hunt."

"Yes, yes, I'll be there in ten minutes."
Give me bloody strength!

Having wasted
two hours at the police station convincing Inspector Dickwipe that
he'd never set eyes on the psychopathic woman claiming to have
stayed at Stokepot Towers, Mike returned to the hotel. Bloody
Dickwipe should have realized that she's a complete nutter, he
cursed, peering into the bar.

Fortunately,
the colonel and Miss Chaste weren't around, and he prayed that
they'd retired to bed. He was looking forward to an evening's
uninterrupted viewing of the live sex spectacular. I'll strangle
the next bastard who disturbs me, he vowed, wondering whether the
colonel would part with a few of his thousands in exchange for a
night of filth with the girls.

Switching the monitor on, he was surprised to see Mrs Gloom
still thrusting the deodorant bottle in and out of her rubicund
pussy sheath.
Christ, she's been at it for
hours
. The bar of soap lodged deep in her
bottom-hole, she was the picture of obscenity, and he decided to
video the sordid scene. Looking beneath the desk, he grinned to see
the video recorder in place. "Well done, Paul!" he sniggered,
checking the tape and punching the buttons. The tape running,
recording Mrs Gloom's wanton masturbation session, he couldn't wait
for the old bag to complain again. I'll play the tape to her, he
grinned, watching her quiver as her orgasm welled and gripped her
naked body.
Threaten to show Harold -
that'll shut her up
.

"Good evening,
do you have a room, please?"

God, not now
. Punching the monitor
off, Mike turned guiltily from his stimulating entertainment to
face an attractive middle-aged woman. "Er... certainly, madam," he
smiled, praying that she'd turn a deaf ear to the erotic giggles
and screams resounding throughout the hotel. "Just the one night,
is it?"

"I don't know,
I..." Bursting into tears, the woman wailed hysterically. "I've
left my husband!"

Not another raving female!
"Er...
please, don't make too much noise!" he whispered. "This is a
respectable establishment."

"I caught him
making love to our au pair in the marital bed!"

"What's
happening, Mr Hunt?" Miss Chaste quavered as she shuffled out of
the lift. "What's the matter?"

Bloody hell
. "I thought you'd gone to
bed?"

"No, I only
went up to my room to get..."

"Go into the
bar and stay there until I say so, or I'll confiscate your pension
book!"

"Oh, dear,
another rule?"

"Yes, another
bloody rule!"

"We've been
married for ten years!" the distressed woman sobbed, brushing her
raven hair away from her pretty face as Miss Chaste scampered into
the bar like a frightened dormouse.

"Look, this
isn't the marriage guidance..."

"I'm sorry,
I'm all right now," the woman snivelled, composing herself. "Do you
have a room, please?"

"Yes, I
suppose so. How long do you think you'll be staying?"

"Forever, more
than likely!"

"All right,
don't distress yourself. Room five, up the stairs and first on the
left," Mike directed, passing her a key. "Don't you have any
cases?"

"No, I left
with nothing. No clothes, no belongings - no love!" she sobbed.

"Christ! Go
and have a sleep and things will look better in the morning."

"Better? How
will they look better?"

"Well,
different."

"He's
committed adultery with the au pair, the night won't change that!"
the woman howled as she walked to the stairs. "All the night will
bring me is a wet pillow!"

"Go to your
room and we'll fill the register in tomorrow - and change the
pillowcase."

This wasn't
on! Mike thought as the sobbing woman passed the colonel coming
downstairs. With the continual interruptions, there was no way he'd
be able to make a success of room sixty-nine. As the colonel
lurched across the foyer, screams of female orgasm emanating from
the dining room again, Mike inhaled deeply.

"What is it,
Colonel?" he snapped. "I thought you'd gone up to bed."

"I had a
change of mind. Any chance of a scotch, old boy?" the old man
grinned, peering into the bar.

"Paul's
serving, ask him to..."

"He's not in
there. Disappeared into thin air, don't you know! He was there
earlier, but now he's gone. Here today, gone tomorrow!"

"Gone? What do
you mean, gone?"

"Vanished!
Evaporated!"

"I don't
understand," Mike muttered, walking into the bar and leaning over
the counter to discover the barman unconscious on the floor. Jesus
Christ!

This really was too much! he decided, lifting the bar flap.
Stepping over the comatose body and pouring the colonel a double
scotch, he couldn't believe that this was happening. The phone
ringing in reception, he passed the colonel his drink and
deliberately kicked Paul on his way out.
Drunken bastard
. Things were going to
have to change, starting with the sacking of the alcoholic
barman!

"Good evening,
Stokepot Towers," he offered irritably as he dashed across the
foyer and grabbed the receiver.

"Mike, is that
you?" a woman's voice asked.

"Yes, who is
this?"

"Belinda."

Christ, the ex-wife!
"Oh! Er... how
are you?" he asked, raising his eyes in despair and cringing at the
sound of her all too familiar voice.
What
the fuck does she want?

"I'm fine.
Listen, I'll be in Norwich tomorrow, on business for a few days,
and I was wondering whether you had a room?"

"Er... a
room?"

"Seeing as you
own a hotel, I thought I might as well bring you a little extra
business."

Since when did she ever think of me?
"Well, I do have a room, but I'm not so sure that it's a good
idea, Belinda."

"Why ever not?
We've been divorced for six years, Mike, surely you don't..."

"All right, I'll book you in."
I never
learn
.

"Good, we'll
talk about the old days."

"Will we?"

"Yes, it'll be
nice to see you after all this time. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right, bye."
That's all I
need!

Unable to get
over the fact that his ex-wife wanted to stay at Stokepot Towers,
Mike began to wonder what her game was. She was obviously after
something, but what? She had plenty of money - at least, she'd had
plenty when they'd split up. So what was she after? Sex?

As if the
randy colonel and senile Chaste spinster weren't enough to put up
with! he thought irritably. How the hell could he conceal his
extra-sexual activities from his ex-wife? Nothing would ever
improve, he reflected cynically. Turning as Smith bundled the three
giggling girls and his naked wife into the lift, he was thankful
that things were going well as far as the new business venture was
concerned.

Switching the
monitor to room sixty-nine, he gazed appreciatively at Mrs Smith's
curvaceous body as she stood by the frame. He'd recorded enough of
Mrs Gloom masturbating in the bath - now it was the Smiths' turn to
fill his coffers with a wonderfully indecent sexual
performance.

Grinning, he
focused on Mrs Smith's pert breasts as the raunchy waitresses
sucked her nipples while Cecilia slipped her husband's clothes off.
Mrs Smith was a randy bitch! Mike concluded, gazing at the woman
writhing in ecstasy as her fingers played between her swollen sex
hillocks, ripening her bud. Had his own wife borne any resemblance
he'd have stayed at home, instead of running off with a brazen
young hussy!

In all
fairness, Belinda hadn't been too bad, he reflected. She'd had a
damned good body, but complained continually. Nothing he did or
said was right in her eyes. If he wore one pair of trousers, she'd
ask him what was wrong with another pair. The situation had reached
the stage where he'd felt that if he breathed, she'd complain. In a
no-win situation, he'd taken up with a young lady who'd had only
one complaint - she couldn't get enough sex! I could always tie
Belinda to the frame and whip her, he thought wickedly.

Admiring the
delectable Mrs Smith as she stood with her feet apart and bent over
the padded bar, Mike watched Trudie and Goldie cuff her wrists to
her ankles as Cecilia fingered the woman's pussy sheath. Her naked
body defenceless, her vaginal lips bulging between her thighs, the
tethered woman was in for the thrashing of her life, Mike concluded
as Trudie grabbed the whip.

Turning the
sound up, he listened excitedly as Mrs Smith begged Trudie not to
thrash her too hard. "Please, just do it softly," she pleaded, her
voice shaky as Cecilia withdrew her sticky fingers from her
honeypot. "Don't hurt me, will you?"

"Oh, I won't,
don't worry!" Trudie replied sarcastically, raising the whip above
her head and bringing the tails down across her prisoner's tensed
buttocks with a loud crack.

Her husband
looking on, frowning as Goldie raised his hands above his head and
cuffed his wrists to steel rings set in the wall, he was powerless
to save his wife. The woman screaming as Trudie continued the
merciless thrashing, her husband yanked on the handcuffs, ordering
the sadistic girl to stop as his wife begged pathetically for
mercy.

"That's
enough!" he cried, Mrs Smith howling in her pain and pleasure as
Cecilia knelt on the floor and thrust three fingers into the
tethered woman's tight cunt.

"Enough is
never enough!" Trudie giggled, repeatedly bringing the leather
tails down, turning the woman's buttocks crimson.

"Please, you
must stop!" her husband yelled as Goldie knelt before him and
sucked his swollen glans into her hungry mouth.

Suddenly
inspired, as well as aroused, Mike switched the monitor off and
bounded up the stairs. With Smith handcuffed to the wall and his
wife over the frame, her vaginal crack open, vulnerable, he decided
to add some spice to the couple's evening by fucking the tethered
woman. Slipping into room sixty-nine, he grinned as he unzipped his
trousers and hauled his erect penis out.

"It's your
lucky night!" he beamed, standing behind Smith's wife as Trudie
moved aside. "You're to have the pleasure of my cock up your wet
cunt!"

"No!" her
husband stormed. "You didn't say anything about..."

"It's a
Stokepot surprise. You'd like me to fuck you, wouldn't you, Mrs
Smith?"

"I don't mind
what you do, but don't let that girl whip me again!" the frightened
woman whimpered as Cecilia quickened her fanny fingering.

"No, I won't
let her whip you again - not until I've spermed up you!" Mike
chuckled, running his purple glans up and down her gaping pussy
crack, lubricating his weaponhead. "Anal or vaginal?" he asked in
his rising debauchery.

"No, not
anal!" the desperate woman cried as he parted her burning
buttocks.

Her husband
protesting as he watched Mike present his solid knob to his wife's
bottom-hole, Mike moved forward, swiftly driving his veined shaft
deep into her rectal canal. Gasping, the woman writhed, trying to
free herself as Mike grabbed her hips and began the enforced anal
thrusting, finding his rhythm with Cecilia's pistoning fingers. Her
husband now silent, Mike knew that he was enjoying the lewd scene
as Goldie took his knob to the back of her throat and kneaded his
rolling balls.

"Are you going
to come in her mouth?" Trudie asked Smith as he gasped his
pleasure.

"Yes, yes!" he
breathed, his penile shaft twitching.

"You can spunk
up my cunt afterwards!" the girl giggled, pulling her vaginal lips
apart and displaying her intimate pink flesh to his wide eyes.
"We've got all night, so I'm sure you'll be able to fuck us all
senseless!"

"Ah, coming!"
the helpless man cried. "Come... coming!"

Wanking his
shaft as Goldie rolled her tongue over his orgasming glans, Trudie
helped her friend to bring out his sperm. His wife whimpering as
Mike drove his knob deep into her bowels, she, too, reached her
enforced climax. The couple wailing their ecstasy in harmony, Mike
loosed his spunk, filling the woman's bowels as he rammed his cock
into her tightening anal hole in rhythm with Cecilia's vaginal
finger fucking, orbiting the shuddering woman to her sexual
heaven.