Like gossamer the thin garment casually floated onto the chair, unnoticed as he stood regarding his fabulous prize, against her white skin the brilliant white of her brazier positively gleamed, he had always loved the virginal white of underclothes, like this tender morsel of lace supporting and caressing her neat breasts, breasts he knew he must violate this afternoon, breasts that tonight he would softly caress regardless of the damage he knew he was now bound to inflict. She stood arms beside her, outwardly impassive to her position, knowing how this man, who had probably spent his life savings to have this holiday, to visit her, to show his love in this strange, way on this once in a lifetime visit. She knew the possibility of them ever meeting again when he left before midday tomorrow, except perhaps on line, would be remote, and she was determined that, even if it killed her, she would give him the most erotic time her body could stand, as he played out his fantasy of a. The lobby was noisy and the bar was noisier. I don't know how much Weena had had, but it was a lot. She had a bottle of beer in one hand and was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief in the other. She was laughing at something a short stockman — maybe a ringer — had said. I walked over and took away her beer. She wheeled and realized."Gordy! This is..." She looked puzzled."Arold," said her companion."Hey, Harold," I said. "How much has she had?" Dunno. Six, mebbe seven." I think I'll take her upstairs." You her old man?" Yep." Key's stickin' outta left pocket."I looked down and saw the tag. I pulled it out and looked at the number. "Come on, sweetheart. We're going to lie down." OK. Bye ... bye..."I led her by the arm, but was carrying nearly all her weight by the time we got to a door I could unlock.I sat her on the bed and pulled off her boots. I unfastened her jeans and unbuttoned most of her shirt. I pulled a sheet over her. She was out light a light. If it was six beers, her.
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