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Copyright 2001-2006, James J. Belcher. All rights reserved. Never Bound Books Home Page Available Selections Order Free Books Now Technical Data
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Chapter
5
Time flies when you're having fun.
I
applauded my own good judgment when I acknowledged that not a single person knew
where I was going; Seychelles visa requirements meant a return flight and hotel
booking, but no one in Victoria seemed to care that I put down "private
accommodations" in lieu of a hotel name.
An
aide carrying a sign with my name on it met me at the Victoria airport. There
was no need for a shuttle – the small plane was for us only – VIP status had
arrived. I gathered the aide didn't
speak English, other than "Please come with me."
We flew together, but in absolute silence.
We
walked off the plane, just the aide and me.
There was a nondescript vehicle for us and for my one bag.
We
were suddenly there and I was looking at it. I snapped a photo. It
was just a one-story lifeless red brick building with no windows, exactly as
advertised, a low-budget nondescript. But
in the middle of a nowhere jungle? That's
Sidney. I bade farewell to the
aide. The
sign didn't read much of anything. Same
style of lettering as a Holiday Inn, but Arabic characters.
There was something like a reception area, and a man with a pen and form
waiting, but it was surreal. There
were several forms in English and Arabic requiring my signature, the most
notable one stating the room rate. The
figure "$US3,000.00/day" had been crossed out and the word
"complimentary" inserted. I
didn't bother to read much of the fine print, but I did notice I was responsible
for health problems of my own making. I
guess lawyers the world over use the stuff to cover their client's collective
butts. There were several pages, too much bother, so I just signed where indicated.
Then those wonderful words: "Your suite is ready, sir, and your bags
will be transported shortly. Please
go through the two swinging doors to your left and you will be met by your
escort."
That's
when the magic began.
Behind
those doors stood a hooker. Not
just any hooker but maybe the hooker of all time.
Clothed fully, but with the sort of extra large lips that said "Not
a lady" and if you were I, you would want to follow her anywhere. And she motioned and I walked in and that was all that
mattered.
"Just
call me Lovey." Her voice was
American! She said it in a sexy
sort of way and I was in a daze.
We
were in my suite and it could have been anywhere because I wasn't looking. All I saw was an extra large bed and the usual.
She
carefully unzipped my pants. The
coat, shirt and undies followed, along with socks and shoes.
No clothes, just what I wore on day one.
"You
need a bath."
I
couldn't argue. We went into the
bathroom and it was huge, with the Jacuzzi taking up most of the space.
A naked black girl appeared from nowhere and suddenly there was suds and
warm water and I was in it, alone. The
black girl disappeared.
Lovey
took off her clothes, not like a stripper, just matter-of-fact, and stepped in
beside me. She didn't say a word,
just picked up a luffa and a bar of soap, and began scrubbing me. I didn't say a word, but she was really applying the
pressure, taking off dead skin faster than I could say no. I picked her up and kissed her hard and she just smiled.
"Honey,
you need to learn the rules of the road here.
This ain't Kansas or Lubbock or Bayonne.
Lay off and go with the flow."
I
started to think. I was on an
island in the Indian Ocean. I was
nude, in a spa. . . That's when she
began to work her own kind of magic. She
had these long fingernails and she was using them as tools, just slowly raking
them up and down my legs, underwater. Whoa! This web site isn't intended to corrupt little boys who use computers as toys. To read the rest of this chapter and the remainder of the novel to the point it now stands in its writing, please go to the Order Books Now page and certify you are at least 18 years of age. Your complete free copy of this book will be E-mailed promptly.
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