juice.
She bent over and pulled back a panel to reveal a TV screen. 'Look at this, lover,' she said, and turned a dial.
CHAPTER THREE
Sunlight filtered through the drawn curtains. Diana opened her eyes, blinked and stretched like a cat.
Looking down at herself she saw one round tit had fallen out of her nightie. She realized she'd been sleeping that way. That meant Mike had seen her. She felt a flush of embarrassment.
Then she laughed. What did it matter if Mike saw her? They were married now – not that it would have mattered even before they were married. She remembered the photo album stashed in their suitcase and felt a warm tingly feeling in her pussy.
She stretched again. Outside she heard splashing from the pool. Mike was out getting his morning exercise. He was something of an exercise-freak, but Diana didn't complain. It kept his body hard and muscular and scrumptious, and kept him in shape for that breakneck, strenuous fucking she loved so well.
What a night! Diana sighed happily at the thought. She drifted into fantasy. She imagined her new husband's mouth on her cunt lips, as his tongue licked her excitingly. She relived the feeling of her body exploding into orgasm as he ate her cunt. She remembered that he tugged her from the bed to impale her pussy on his rigid cock.
She relived the fucking, hot and wild, on the floor of the motel room. His fiery jism had flooded her pussy, and she'd come again, as intensely as before. Then she had rolled off and sucked his cock, licking up the succulent sauce of his come and her cunt honey combined. Diana was no lesbian, but there was something about the taste of her own pussy that augmented the delight of sampling her husband's prick and creamy come.
Soon Mike's prick had gotten hard again. Diana had dropped to her side and lifted a perfect thigh. Her cunt was hot, the chestnut cunt-fur matted with pussy sauce and dewed with droplets of milky come. He'd roared like a bull elk in rut and fucked her pussy, clamping her upraised leg with steely fingers and cramming his cock into her cunt so violently that the curly hair around the base of his cock left an imprint on the skin of her asscheek.
Diana almost wept with joy remembering that giant cock stretching her pussy delightfully out of shape. But Mike had already fucked his wife's cunt once that night. He had something else in mind!
He'd yanked his prick free of her clinging cunt with a shower of pussy oils. Then he'd plunged his prick right up her butthole. She'd screamed as though in mortal agony as the broad cock forged into her asshole. But it wasn't pain that ripped the shrill cry from her lips. It was a pleasure too concentrated to bear!
Mike had fucked her ass for what had seemed an eternity. In and out of the tiny hole came his cock with incredible speed. Diana felt his cock surge into her asshole, wedging her buttcheeks far apart and filled her belly with delight, then sliding out again with the pussy sauce oiled poopchute. His cock stretched her, and she'd started coming before he'd fucked her a dozen strokes.
Then the tremendous cock buried in her ass had swollen and spat a giant charge of come. Mike's jism had filled Diana's ass channel, burning like lava, melting her butt and climaxing pussy into sweet erotic peace.
A knock on the door broke the spell. Diana opened her eyes and took a deep breath. A thick musky odor filled her nostrils. A puzzled frown creased her brows, than she smiled.
Just the thought of the wild fucking of last night had gotten her horny! She reached down and touched a finger to the spongy mound of her pussy. The cunt fur was damp, saturated with the oils of her twat.
The knock sounded again. Diana rose and walked to the window. She pulled the curtain open a crack and peered out. She couldn't see who was at the door. Then she noticed the pool was empty.
She shook her head. 'Mike, you idiot,' she said softly. 'You've gone and forgotten your keys.'
She let go of her filmy nightgown, which she'd drawn protectively over her swaying boobs. It hung open, baring the insides of her tits and the dark triangle of her pussy, now dewed between her trim thighs by little pearly drops of cunt honey. Not that the nightie concealed much; it barely came past the tops of her thighs, and was so transparent that the dark brown patches of her nipples and her cunt-fur could be seen even when the front was drawn shut and tied. But on their first morning as man and wife, Diana wanted to give her husband an eyeful.
She turned the doorknob. 'You're a dumb Irishman, Michael Burden,' she said as she opened the door, 'but I love you anyway.'
'I'm glad to hear that,' came a totally unfamiliar male voice.
Diana blinked. The glare of the morning sun made it impossible for her sleep-bleary eyes to make out who stood outside the motel room. But she could see by the silhouette that whoever it was was tall and slim, not of medium height and stocky like her husband.
Diana stepped back in alarm. 'I'm dreadfully sorry,' she said, starting to shut the door. 'I-I thought you were my husband.'
'I could tell,' said the stranger, and Diana thought he smiled. He put his foot forward, blocking the door. 'Won't you let me in? I'm Eric Traynor, the manager of the motel. I run the Desert Winds with my sister Yvonne – she checked you in last night, tall girl with black hair?'
'Oh,' Diana said. 'Yes, I remember.' She stood a moment in confusion, then retreated a step, letting go of the doorknob.
Abruptly she realized her nightie was still open. She closed it hurriedly. Her cheeks reddened.
The manager laughed. 'You're very pretty when you blush,' he said. Then, as if it was an afterthought, he added, 'Mrs. Burden.'
'Thank you,' Diana said uncertainly. She was still dazzled by the morning sunlight that flooded in the door. But she felt that the man was grinning at her in amusement – or was it more than that? He kicked the door shut with his heel, and Diana began to feel uncertain about letting him in. He had a perfect right to come in – after all, he was the manager – but still.
'What can I do for you, Mr. Traynor?' she asked. Her voice betrayed only a hint of the nervousness she felt.
'Call me Eric, please,' the man said. He smoothed back his hair. 'Just have to check things out.'
He looked around the room, nodded. 'Everything seems to be in order,' he said. He turned his head to look at Diana. She gathered her nightie more closely about her. She thought she saw something in his curious blue eyes she most definitely did not like.
'Well, it was nice meeting you,' she said, walking purposefully toward the door. He stepped in front of her. He sniffed and bared his teeth in an openly lustful grin.
'Mr. Traynor…' Diana began shakily.
'Eric,' he corrected. His eyes flicked down. 'Your nipples get hard when you're nervous, did you know that?'
Diana stepped back. Fear waned with outrage within her. 'Mr. Traynor, Eric, whatever you call yourself – I must ask you to get the hell out of my room!'
'And I must respectfully decline,' the man said.
'After all, I am the manager!'
Diana bit her knuckle. She back-pedaled, unsure of where to go, only knowing she had to get away from the man who wanted to be called Eric. There was no mistaking the look on his face – or the bulge in his pants!
'I'll scream!'
'Go ahead. No one will hear you. The other guests are all on the other side of the court.' He came for her, reaching out hands with surprisingly dainty-looking fingers.
Diana whirled and ran for the bathroom. Eric ran after her. She dashed into the bathroom a step ahead of him and slammed the door in his face.
The man grunted as the door hit him in the nose and knee, but he got his arms inside and kept the terrified newlywed from shutting it completely. 'Damn you,' he snarled. He leaned hard against the door.
Diana threw her weight against the bathroom door. It was a losing battle. Inch by inch Eric forced it open. Then with a sudden heave he pushed her back. The door flew open. Diana fell back hard, her nightie flapping up around her hips so that her bare butt flattened on the closed toilet-lid.
