'Actually, I'd have to say no,' he said. 'Besides, I have to get down to the city. Have commitments there.'
'Surely you have time for a drink?' she said sarcastically.
'Not really,' he said, sitting up, 'but I'll take time, anyway.' He picked up the bottle and took a swig and handed it to Eva. She followed suit and passed it back.
They talked and passed the bottle back and forth until it was empty. They were both quite drunk.
'How you gonna get back up to your room?' he said, tossing the empty bottle into the shrubbery.
'Take the elevator. How else?'
'It could be embarrassing. You're naked and your suit's at the bottom of the pool.'
'I'll dive in and get it,' she said.
'It's in eight feet of water. You'll drown.'
'Like shit,' she said, getting to her feet. She raced for the pool, almost fell, and went awkwardly into the water. She came back up sputtering. 'Too fuckin' deep,' she said, barely getting to the edge of the pool.
Bob was standing beside the pool now. 'My suit should be right down here somewhere.'
'I think it drifted down to the middle with mine,' she said.
'Shit,' he said, then shrugged. 'What the hell. I live in a cottage behind the hotel. I can get there without being seen, but you got a problem.'
'Ever fuck a girl in the water?' Eva said.
'No, can't say that I have.'
'Now's your chance.'
He looked down at her, her boobs halfway out of the water as if they were water wings holding her up. 'I think I'll pass, baby. I have to get into town, and I couldn't get it up again, anyway.' He waved at her and turned and walked away.
She watched him go into the tall shrubbery and pass from sight. She thought again about trying to retrieve her suit, but gave up the idea and pulled herself from the water. It might be tricky getting up to her suite, but it was late and she could take the stairs.
She got to the fourth floor and inside her door. Breathing a heavy sigh, she pushed the door shut with her ass. She went to the bar and poured herself a drink. The liquor went down easily hitting bottom heavily. Her head started to spin.
'Eva, is that you?' her husband's voice came from the bedroom.
'Yes, it's me,' she said quickly.
'Where the hell have you been?'
'I-I couldn't sleep. I went for a walk,' she said. And got fucked, you bastard, she thought.
'Don't you know it's dangerous to wander about at this hour?' his voice said, still from the bedroom.
'I thought it would be safe here,' she said.
'You're probably right. Nothing could happen to you here. Now come on to bed.'
She finished her drink, took another straight from the bottle, and staggered in to her bed. John was already back asleep. Eva crawled under the satin sheet and quickly passed out, a silly, satisfied grin on her face.
CHAPTER SEVEN
When John awakened at six, Eva was sprawled nude, half on the bed, half off. He looked at her with distaste and went into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in the shower. Exactly eleven minutes later, he left the suite. He had hot tea and unbuttered toast in the coffee shop and then went directly to the stables. As he crossed the courtyard, he saw Roxanne waiting for him. She smiled and waved.
John had learned a great deal about Roxanne DeWinter in the past three days. She was forty-one years old and a widow. She married Abraham DeWinter when she was twenty-two and he was sixty-seven. He died of a stroke at eighty-four, leaving her a wealthy woman. It had been a good marriage as May-December marriages go, and since Abraham had been active up to the end, her sexual contacts outside her marriage had been few, yet she wasn't the frustrated widow she led John to believe. She had a seventeen-year-old son who was a robust, sexually advanced boy. He called his mother Roxy and she called him Ronny darling.
Roxy was quite the opposite of Eva, with dark brown hair, flashing brown eyes, and a chubby face with deep dimples in both cheeks. Her body, naturally, was much fuller than Eva's, though it was apparent that Eva would be built much the same when she reached her forties.
John was first attracted to her by her skill on the tennis court, and then her talent for bridge. He completely ignored his wife that night in bed. The next day, Roxy proved an excellent horseman and that afternoon she almost beat John at golf. Eva tagged close behind, seething with jealousy. At bridge that night, she let her knee slip between his thighs under the table and it excited him so that he forgot about his young bride. He fantasized about Roxy the whole sleepless night.
On the third day, Eva wasn't so persistent in keeping up, and he kissed Roxy for the first time. It was in the rough on the fourth hole; they were looking for Eva's ball. Roxy melted her lush body against him and gladly let him kiss her. They played footsie through the whole bridge game that night.
John felt the stirrings of illicit passion in his loins as he crossed the sunny courtyard. She was a magnificent- looking woman.
'Where is little Eva this morning?' Roxy said, when he came up to her.
'She got drunk again last night. She won't be going with us,' he answered.
'I'm glad,' she purred, stepping in close to him. Her hands came up to the side of his head and pulled his face down to hers. After a long, hard kiss, she pulled back. 'My late husband drank a good deal, too,' she said.
John felt the blood pounding in his temples, and he was glad that Eva was up on the bed drunk. The drunker the better. He slipped his arm around her waist and directed her into the stables. 'Let's get our horses and go,' he said.
Roxanne was wearing skin-tight riding breeches and a white, long-sleeved blouse that was open at the neck where she wore a red silk scarf. Her large tits bulged against the white material, the nipples sticking out like little knobs.
'I felt naughty this morning and didn't wear a brassiere,' she said.
'Yes, I noticed,' he said.
'Do you like me this way?'
'You can't imagine how much.' His hand had moved up until it was against the bottom of her heavy tit. He turned her to him and kissed her again. Her mouth was open this time, and his tongue moved in as if it belonged there.
'Oh, John,' she moaned, 'I wish I had met you before Eva.'
'I do too,' he gulped. He could feel her pussy mashing against his hard-on. He gripped her ass in his hands and pulled her tighter.
She moved her belly back and forth against him, exciting him even more. As they hunched and kissed, she moved him backwards towards an open stall; she didn't bother to push the door closed.
There was a horse blanket conveniently spread across a pile of straw and she pushed him over backwards and came down on top of him. She straddled him lewdly and started dry humping, her mouth covering his. She knew he would play hell getting her breeches off, and it excited her. She enjoyed it when a man had to work to get at her pussy.
'I think I love you, John,' she said. 'The catch and zipper is on the side.'
'Oh, Jesus!' John said, his hand groping. He got the catch open and fumbled clumsily at the zipper, finally working it all the way down. She kept humping against him as he tried to push the breeches down her wide hips.
'Hurry, John, hurry,' she gasped. 'I need you so bad.'
He was sweating profusely when he finally got them halfway down her thighs. He gripped the cheeks of her generous ass, his fingers sliding into the deep cleft and almost accidentally probing at her tight, puckered
