Walkthrough
Chapter Seven
The Pax Romana Room was Connie’s idea. I know nothing about hotel suites that cost upward of five thousand dollars a night. However, at that price, you get some interesting perks, like it came with complimentary butler service.
“So how often do you get called Jeeves?”
“It’s Pumphrey, sir. Not as often as one would think.”
“Are you really from England or do you talk like that to sound more like a butler?”
“I am a Welshman, sir, working in the States since 1980.”
“Wow, wiping noses for over 35 years. I bet you’ve seen some shit.”
“Sir, I sincerely hope that you make it to an age where you can look back and fondly declare that you, too, have seen some shit.”
“I don’t know about that. My app tells me I’ve got a 99% chance of spending the rest of my life in prison because I decided to, um, date my ex-stepfather’s wife. Say, how does that work? I mean. How does the butler know to stay out of the way when the guests are, um, together? The guys in the dorm hang a sock on the door.”
“I won’t be here in the room with you, sir. My quarters are beside the staircase. If you require my services, either call the front desk, or more preferably, you can page me via text.”
“That’s cool, because I don’t know what I’m going to do. I mean. I know what I’m going to do, but that takes an hour, and then what? She’s mine all night, before I have to give her back.”
“Perhaps she might enjoy an evening at the symphony. They are playing a selection of contemporary jazz, with pianist Tohomi Okane at the Amasonanna Prime Center downtown. There are also two Broadway productions touring in town this weekend, The Regrettable Life of Farm Animals and The Monkey’s Penis.”
“Can you get me tickets for The Monkey’s Penis? I heard that the actors actually have sex during the play.”
“Consider it done, sir. Will the lady need clothing or jewelry?”
“Can you make that happen, too?”
“Mr. Dearborn, it would be my pleasure. What limousine service are you using? I can make all the arrangements from here.”
“I was going to drive my mini…”
Pumphrey’s pleasant smile and agonizing silence prompted me to rethink my plans. “Perhaps hiring a car would make a better impression?”
“Hiring a driver makes an excellent impression, Mr. Dearborn. But more importantly, having a driver allows you to focus on your guest instead of traffic or parking.”
“Pumphrey, I am really glad you are here.”
“Likewise, Mr. Dearborn, if you will be so kind as to provide me with the details of your weekend, I will make sure it will be one to remember.”
I got to James’s house well past noon. When I said noon, I failed to consider traffic and booking a room in the morning. I got lucky there. At over five grand a night, the room was unoccupied, and at those prices, they won’t make a guest wait until 2 to check-in.
Pumphrey, the patron saint of patience, helped tremendously. He kept me from making at least a dozen dumb moves. Still, it took a lot of time, and now I felt terrible seeing Donita standing on the stoop as we parked. I ran to greet her, very curious who I’d meet, Green Bean or Donita.
“Sorry I’m late. I would have called, but I didn’t have your number.”
“I’ll give it to you,” she said, holding out her hand for my phone. Her fingernails tapped as loudly on my phone as her heels clicked on the concrete sidewalk. “Now you can call me anytime.”
The driver graciously opened her door with a heavily accented, “Madam.”
The giggling reply told me it was Donita sitting beside me in the back.
The first stop was a trendy salon called, A Frayed Not! Two guys dressed in tights and smocks picked up Donita. As planned, they looked at me and said, “How do you want her?”
“Donna Summer?”
“Oh, definitely!” they said, in stereo.
A couple of hours later, they returned with the flowing hair and Prussian eye-shadow of an ebony enchantress.
“What?” she said.
“I, uh, I, just wow.”
Donita’s big smile preceded a round of deep belly laughs and then a little squeal of excitement. “See! They even did my toenails.”
I got to see her toes again at the boutique. The candy-colored, two-tone deep blue, that matched her eye-shadow, and a rich cream that paired exquisitely with her dark chocolate skin. Bonbons never looked as good.
“I was thinking of something a little more revealing,” I said, lightly caressing the cream-colored silk maxi she wore.
“Todd?” said Donita, her stomach jumping involuntarily at my touch.
“You’re not having second thoughts about spending the night with your stepson?”
She floundered as the saleslady looked aghast.
“You’re not my stepson, Todd.”
“Well, I’m James’s ex-stepson, and you’re James’s wife… so, um.”
“Todd!”
“What? I’m offering you a night on the town with no magic words. Wouldn’t it be more fun if you got some say-so in what we do together?”
Donita didn’t answer. She pulled off the dress, revealing her flawless dark skin, standing there in her crotchless panties and cup-less bra, supporting her large natural breasts.
“Do you like what you see… son?”
“Yes, I do. So, can we lose the moo-moo and put something sexy on her ass?”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” said the saleslady.
On the top floor of the Nova Rex Hotel, the Pax Romana Room had a 200 square-foot terrace that overlooked Baltimore’s waterfront.
“I thought I was going to lose my mind when Dave Chetty walked on stage in monkey make-up and twirling that 3-foot fake-dick.”
“You’re telling me. I thought the lady behind us was going to have you thrown out for laughing so loud,” I said, sitting with Donita in a love seat by the fire pit.
“She was too stuffy to have a good time. Why the hell would a woman with a stick up her ass even go to a play with naked folks having sex?”
“Maybe she was looking for someone to pull it out? It doesn’t matter. We had a good time and the night’s still young.”
“Young for you! My feet are killing me. I’m a whole lot of woman and that was just a little bit of shoe.”
“You’re not that big.”
“What do you think these are? Crème puffs?” said Donita, lifting her boobs.
“They’re just as soft, but really, I had a hankering for some chocolate pie.”
“As long as I’m not standing, we good.”
I began by massaging her feet.
“How does this feel?”
“Oh honey, we can skip the sex and just do this.”
“Or we could do both,” I said, kissing her calf as I massaged her legs. A woman’s scent greeted me in a warm waft when her dress spread open. Apparently, Donita had been eagerly awaiting this moment. I kissed her inner thigh.
“Oh my...”
My experience with mom has made oral sex on a woman less daunting. I lapped away at Donita’s clit until she came, flexing those big, beautiful ass-cheeks.
I left her alone while I changed, opting to wear only my pajama bottoms as I walked around the suite. I washed off my face and downed half a bottle of sports drink. It’s good to stay hydrated.
“Rum and coke?” I said, not bothering to listen for the reply. She had been putting them away all night. When I returned, she was out of her dress and under the covers.
“Thank you, baby,” she said, sitting up and taking the drink from my hand. “So, how does a young man like you know about Donna Summer, anyway?”
“My father was Lieutenant Dan Dearborn. The last time he shipped out, he was with Special Forces, in Romeo Company. They received sealed orders for immediate departure to Iraq. I was about to turn eight, so he went shopping for my present at a truck-stop. On my birthday, I got a portable CD player and a Donna Summer CD in the mail, and Mom got a visit from the Army Chaplain.”
Donita said nothing, but her eyes grew sad, as if she had already heard the story.
“Anyway, Donna Summer has always had a special place in my heart. I grew up thinking she was the most beautiful woman in the world.”
A tear trickled down Donita’s cheek.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said, wiping it away.
I had just lied. It wasn’t okay. My father was my hero. In college, now and then, I’ll run into some pseudo-intellectual who’ll say, “Kill your heroes!” I always reply, “Don’t worry, someone else has already done that.” That shuts them up, but I hate that I have so few memories of him. I stopped having birthday parties after his death, and his absence has haunted me my entire life. I assumed bad luck had taken him away from me. Now that I know Wade Smith had dad killed, I’ve discovered a callousness, and a hunger for vengeance that frightens me.
Donita cued up a Donna Summer song called “Last Dance” on her phone. Soon she had it playing over the room’s sound system while we sank into the bed. I had already seen enough of the videos to know the pain that the Dead Soldiers had subjected this poor woman to. Maybe the scenes with Green Bean were what kept me from watching anymore of the movies. But I knew, if I wanted to, I could make her suffer through nearly limitless punishment and somehow she would orgasm from it. True, I was angry, but I’m not angry at her and I’m not heartless. There’s no joy in hurting her to punish James. I held her close with her large breast resting on my arm and kissed her.
“That’s the first time anyone has kissed me in years. My own children don’t kiss me.”
I kissed her again, this time licking the inside of her mouth and fondling her breasts, overfilling my hands.
“We’ve got a lot in common. We should look out for each other,” I said, kissing her again.
She nodded along in silent agreement as I slid my pale cock between the luscious lips of her dark pussy with a great deal more respect than I showed Connie or mom. Maybe my attitude’s changing or maybe I still held a grudge against Connie and mom for the lies they’ve told me. That’s not fair. What the hell were they supposed to tell me? But anger isn’t always fair. Like me, I’m fucking James’s wife to punish him for killing my dad, and I’m not even sure that he had anything to do with it. She is a quality lay. Too bad the Dead Soldiers have been wasting all this good pussy by treating her like an animal.
No gymnastics involved. It had been a long day. I just wanted to ogle her big dark breasts as they rolled around beneath me, while I happily felt the pleasure of poking my cock inside her warm, thick pussy. If she came or not, I’ve got no clue. I dumped my load and fell asleep in her arms.
The drab dawn filled our room with a soft light illuminating Donita’s beauty. I watched her as she slept in the enormous bed nestled among half a dozen pillows. My heart went out to her. I could happily keep her with me for the rest of my days… But, as much as I would love to let her sleep, there are things I needed to know and time is running out.
“Morning Missus Jackson, ping, green, pong… hello Green Bean, can you tell me what happens in the playroom?”
No one could fake the terror in Green Bean’s face. Her eyes filled with tears while she shuddered, struggling to choke back the unspeakable anguish.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. It’s okay, Green Bean,” I said gently, rocking her as I held her. “I told you we have a lot in common. I want to look out for you, Green Bean. Is there anything you can tell me that might help me find out who killed my dad?”
“… Kiko (sob,) you must save Kiko, please.”