Deliver A Black Market Purchase

The knock on the door to room 301 of the Hotel Muley Xeque was met with a woman's voice calling out from the other side to wait just a moment. When the door was opened, the hotel guest immediately recognized the man. She opened the door further, inviting him in. Suitcases and a trunk filled the sitting room.

"Signor Ferrari," the blonde woman said with a posh accent, "I was just about to call you."

"Then I have saved you the call," the portly entrepeneur replied as he removed his white hat and extracted a business envelope from his inside pocket. Although he tried to stay professional, he could not help noticing that the blonde in her mid-thirties was in her negligee. The light dressing gown was so sheer, that one could make out the areolas of her breasts. She appeared to be wearing some sort of bustier. "I knew that your ship sailed this afternoon so I brought over your exit visa. I did not want you to be worried that you would not have it in time. You didn't give me much notice, but we made it."

"Yes, about the exit visa," the blonde did not reach for it, but stood there with her ridiculous house shoes - a pair of black high heel mules with a pink, fluffy ball over the toes of each foot - and her black stockings held up by the straps of her bustier. Unless Signor Ferrari was mistaken, the woman was not wearing any panties. "That was why I was going to call. I have obtained an exit visa from another source." Seeing the look on Senor Ferrari's face, she quickly added, "You can keep my deposit, of course."

"Of course," he replied as he slipped the envelope back in to his jacket. He tried to remain polite and jovial; no sense in crying over spilled milk and all that. "Well, bon voyage," he said and headed towards the door. Pausing with his hand on the knob, he asked, "Do you happen to know a certain Signor Ugarte?"

Her hand flew to her chest and she made a small gasp. But trying to recover, she slowly shook her head, "I do not believe that I do."

"Well, if it ever should be your misfortune to encounter that sniveling, squirming, scheming, cut-rate cut-throat," he replaced the hat onto his head, "please relay the message that unless he stops stealing my customers, he shall have to learn how to go through life without his thumbs."

After he left, the woman pressed her ear to the door, listening to the departing footsteps to make sure he was gone before she went into the bedroom of her two room suite.

There was a naked man inside. Very small. Very pale. Very scared. "Not good," he muttered. "Not good." He crawled up on the foot of the bed, his knees just on the edge of the mattress, and knelt down on all fours. There was a large hotel towel directly under him. "I will never get an erection now."

The woman slid her negligee off, revealing her not so blonde pubic hair and an expansive, bountiful butt with indentations on the side of each cheek. "You'll be able to get hard," she assured him, stepping into a black harness, one leg at a time, "once I slip this baby into you."

With affection, she patted the long, thick rubber dildo attached to the harness as if it was her own living cock rather than an inanimate object.

"B-be sure to use plenty of lubricant," he told her, looking back over his shoulder and spreading his knees further apart.

"I will," she assured him, standing directly behind him and twisting off the cap to a bottle of baby oil. "This is not the first time that I have pegged* a man."

She poured the oil between his buttocks and chuckled, "This is not the first time that I have pegged =you=."

The man gasped from the coldness of the oil and waited to be penetrated. When he felt the wide head of the fake dick touch his anus, he willed himself to relax. Tensing up at this stage would be the worse thing to do.

"Ah...Ah... AHHHhh," he grunted when the blonde leaned forward, burying more and more of the rubber dick up his ass. After only a few seconds of her rocking back and forth, he began to get hard. Snickering, he excitedly told the blonde, "You were right. I am getting an erection."

"See?" she leaned forward, lying across this back, her bare breasts mashed against his naked back. "I told you so."

After rubbing her hand under the dildo to collect some oil, she reached around him up front, grabbing his hard-on and started to stroke it. The man closed his eyes, drawing in deep breathes as the blonde buggered him. His insides felt bloated, like he had a bowling ball shoved up him back there. The constant stimulation of his prostate from the back and forth movements of the dildo had him continuously dribbling pre-cum.

It did not take long for the in-and-out motion of the rubber dick, the blonde's bare breasts sliding back and forth along his bare back, and her pulling and tugging on his cock, to send him to Nirvana. He began to shake violently. "I'm cumming," he whimpered, his hips jerking with each spurt of his cock. His high pitched whines made the blonde think he was going to cry.

Feeling the twitching of his cock stop, the blonde ceased fucking the man's butt-pussy and pulled out of him. He rolled over to his side and lay there as a final droplet of cum oozed from the tip of his softening cock. There was a huge puddle of sperm in the center of the towel.

"Alright, you're gonna have ta get dressed and leave," the blonde said in a voice sounding less posh and more cockney. She removed her bustier, tossing it on the bed, and stepped into a pair of white panties. She plundered around for a bra. "I gotta finish me packin'."

Crawling stiffly out of bed, he winched from the pain in his burning anus. He looked around the room for his clothes, pulling them on and replying, "I have to pack, too. I need to get out of Casablanca and lay low for awhile."

She found a bra but did not put it on, distracted instead by the gold wrist watch the man was wrapping around his wrist. "Where did you get that?"

"Where did I get what?" he asked, closing the clasp.

Her breasts bounced as she strode over topless. "That what!" she tapped the face of the watch. "I've never seen you wear that before."

"Oh," he shrugged and buttoned his shirt. "Something that somebody gave me."

"You mean something that you stole from somebody." She slipped her arms into the bra and reached around back to close the hooks.

"I prefer 'liberated' . . . Viva Le Resistance," he replied and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his socks. "Owww. I told you that thing was too big."

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*Historical aside: The term was not coined until 2001.