Chapter 27:Hi, lover, feeling wet?

By now the three of them were too tired to consider anything more strenuous than a walk to the car. They dressed and walked out to reception where the receptionist was waiting for them. Her eyes were wild, frantic. Her hands were a blur in her pussy and over her clit. “P-please, sir. Please can I c-cum?” she managed to force out.

Michael looked at her for a few seconds. “Yes, you can cum now.”

All three of them were amazed at the explosion of orgasm that was displayed for them. The receptionist stiffened, her mouth opening in a silent scream of pleasure as her head rolled back on her neck. Then her body fell forward again and she began to thrash wildly as her body released all the pent-up tension of waiting to cum. As her body finally calmed down she reached under the desk and there was the whir of some mechanism working. Her hand came up and she handed a video tape to Michael. There was pussy juice on the tape from her hand.

“What was all that about?” Cherry asked as they walked across the parking lot to her car.

Michael handed her the tape. “Nothing really, she was just repressing. Here, a souvenir of our afternoon. I wouldn’t show that to your maiden aunt.”

“They were taping us?” Lucy said, giggling.

“Like I said,” Michael replied with a nod, “not family viewing.”

They laughed as Cherry opened the car door and they all piled in. None of them noticed the tall man in the black trench coat that watched them from the shadow of a door across the street.

Julia turned on the radio of her hire car. A smooth electro-pop beat began to pipe through the quad speakers of the car, drowning out the air conditioning. She did not know the tune, but it was pleasant enough to drive to. An electronic purr curled through the background of the song, and then the lyrics kicked in.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

They were the kind of high intelligence lyrics Julia was used to in modern pop songs. Well, what the hell.

I just can’t get you out of my head,
Boy your lovin’ is all I think about.
I just can’t get you out of my head,
Boy it’s more than I dare to think about.

She turned the radio off and the music died a sudden death. Images of Michael surfaced in her mind unbidden. Images of him fucking her over the breakfast table. Images of him eating her pussy while Lucy looked in. Images of him buried to the hilt in Lucy’s cunt as the blonde cheerleader rode him to climax.

She shook her head to try to clear it and turned the last corner into the parking lot of the hotel she was staying at. Thoughts of Michael were lost in the hassle of checking into a hotel.

Full from a very fine evening meal and pleasantly inebriated from a couple of glasses of a very nice Zinfandel, Julia pushed the door of her room shut with her back and kicked off her heels. She rubbed her feet and walked down the short hall into the room. Her dress was next, a conservative little number in her view, cut to below mid-thigh. She unzipped it at the back and allowed it to slide to the floor. She sighed as the air conditioned atmosphere of the room touched her bare skin, and then headed toward the bathroom, thumping a button (any button) on the TV remote control as she passed it. She made it into the bathroom before the TV kicked into life and sound started coming out.

I just can’t get you out of my head,
Boy your lovin’ is all I think about.

Julia spat water over the bathroom mirror and darted out into the hall. Was someone trying to mess with her head?

I just can’t get you out of my head,
Boy it’s more than I dare to think about.
Every night, every day.
Just to be there in your arms.

On the screen, a little blonde nymphet in a white, cowl-necked gown cut so that the front fell between her breasts to below her belly button, was bopping away in a manner that should have displayed her assets to all the world.

Won’t you stay?
Won’t you lay?
Stay forever, and ever, and ever, and ever.
La, la, la…

Julia had no idea who the girl was, but she had a body to die for. She looked a bit like the girl that ran the coffee shop, but with less chest.

I just can’t get you out of my head…

Flickering images of Lucy’s face looking up with her tongue busy on Julia’s clit danced before her eyes. She same image, but she could see Michael pumping into the blonde’s pussy at the same time.

…it’s more than I dare to think about.
There’s a dark secret in me,
Don’t leave me locked in your heart.
Set me free.
Feel the need in me…

Julia let out a small moan and stabbed the off button on the remote. The voice died and Julia threw herself onto the bed. She reached for the phone.

“Michael,” his mother yelled up the stairs. “Phone. It’s Lucy.”

Michael stretched and picked up the cordless phone from his bedside table. He waited until his mother put her extension down and then said, “Hi, lover, feeling wet?”

“Michael? Sorry, it’s not Lucy, it’s Julia. I didn’t want your mother knowing it was me.”

Shit. “Um, sorry Miss…”

“Michael, please can we go back to you calling me Julia?” There was a slight note of pleading in her voice and Michael knew then that he had been forgiven.

“So, I thought you were in Atlanta?” he said.

“I am, thank goodness for AT&T calling cards.”

He grinned, though she could not see it. “You didn’t have to call me just to tell me to use your first name, y’know.”

“True. Thing is, I’m being haunted by a blonde singer.”

“Beg pardon?”

Julia laughed, a musical, happy sound. Michael felt better about himself than he had all week. “I needed to hear your voice, Michael. Just talk to me. What have you been doing today?”

“Fucking mostly,” he replied. “I needed to make up with Lucy, like you said, and she very much wanted to do something depraved. We happened to meet a girl I screwed once, she runs that coffee shop at the bottom of the office building you took me to.” Visions of the coffee girl, breasts hanging out of a white gown danced before Julia’s eyes. “Lucy and I went off with her and enjoyed ourselves a lot.” Michael knew his conversational skills were limited. Time to turn the tables. “What’s your room like? Describe it to me.”