The Erotic Quest of Dirk and Honey (22 page)

Once inside the luxuriously furnished villa, Honey ran lightly on tiptoes to the stained-glass door of Henri’s library. Through
it she could see the outlines of both Henri and the head guard, whom she and Kolina had nicknamed Tweedledee. Faint voices
filtered out to her, and her fears grew. The guard was reporting the presence of the pesky Yank who had tried to speak to
the girl both in New York and in Hong Kong. Henri spun away, sputtering angrily in French, “He is onto us. We must eliminate
him. Find out where he’s staying and see to it tonight.”

Honey did not need to hear any more. She backed away from the door and ran to her room on the second floor. With a cold lump
of concern blocking her throat, she watched from her window the exodus of the two guards, pulling away toward the village
in the dark sedan. They were going to track down Dirk, and that night—she couldn’t even finish the horrible thought. She must
warn him. But how?

Her French lesson with Kolina that afternoon in the massive library was subdued, with an undercurrent of tension. Henri was
present the entire time, watching them both carefully from behind the huge carved oak desk. Honey struggled to keep her tone
as professional as before, but several times her voice cracked and Henri shot her strange, suspicious looks. Kolina, also,
was behaving abnormally, her demeanor strained and worried. At one point, Henri demanded to know what was wrong with her today,
but Kolina—bless her quick mind—responded that she was bored, bored, bored and that she missed her sister terribly.

After the lesson, Honey returned to her room to await anxiously the return of the guards. When she heard the sedan pulling
into the drive, she slipped downstairs, hoping to overhear their report to Henri, but the three men took a long walk on the
deserted beach. Honey watched from the wide, covered veranda, desperate to know of their impending plans. Later that day,
as the sun was sinking into the darkening sea, she was surprised to receive an invitation to join Henri and Kolina for dinner.
The rarity of the occasion only increased her wariness. Throughout the many courses of the huge meal, she spoke only when
spoken to and in general remembered her subserviant position. The
caldareta
—a thick stew of chunky lobster meat—was delicious, as were the many wines and the dessert of fresh kumquats drowning in
heavy cream laced with Cointreau, but Honey barely tasted the rich fare. All she could think of was Dirk and the fate that
awaited him. Complaining of a severe headache, she withdrew early to her room.

She slipped into her most revealing negligee, a sheer gown of icy blue, and waited until she could hear the guards going into
their room down the hall. Throwing a plain robe over her shoulders, she padded over and knocked on their door. Tweedledum
answered, his youngish face registering complete astonishment. Honey brushed past him into the room. Tweedledee, the head
guard, clad only in a towel around his waist, eyed her from the open bathroom door, his muscular, hairy body like a hard exclamation
point. She smiled invitingly. “Pardon me, but I am greatly concerned,” she began in French, all aflutter. “Kolina tells me
there is a man in the village who has followed her around the world. I think she’s in danger.”

The head guard replied in his usual surly manner, “Do not concern yourself with our business.”

“But I am concerned,” she protested. “What does Monsieur Bouscaral intend to do about this man?”

The head guard laughed derisively. “Go back to your books.”

She turned pleadingly to the younger, who was eyeing the rise and fall of her unfettered breasts under her robe. “Please,
I want to help. Where is he staying? Perhaps I I could go tell him he’s upsetting my charge and to please leave.”

“You want to help us?” the young thug asked with a leer.

“Yes, yes… anything.”

“Show us your tits,” he ordered.

Protectively she crossed her arms over her breasts. “I do not understand,” she murmured, as if shocked. “How can that help?”

The head guard wiped his wet hands on the towel around his waist, pulling it up high to reveal a muscular thigh. “You think
you’re better than us, no?”

“Of course not,” she said defensively.

“Then how come you never talk to us,” the second guard said with a sneer. “Or let us be friendly?”

“I…I didn’t think you wanted to be friends,” she replied.

The head guard, his squashed face full of expectations, walked slowly to her, rubbing his hard, hairy stomach. “We want to
be friendly, see?” Chortling, he grabbed his cock.

The younger guard laughed uproariously and began tearing off his clothes, throwing them around the room. “Yes, yes, we want
to be your friends.”

She edged back toward the door. “Friends trust each other. Prove you trust me and I’ll be your friend. Tell me where the man
who is after Kolina is staying.”

The head guard continued to rub the growing lump under his towel. “You prove first. Take off your robe.”

She eyed them for a long moment, weighing her options, then slowly slipped off the robe. She stood before them, her luscious
body displayed under the sheer nightgown. The eyes of the guards bulged with surprise. “
Mon Dieu
,” the older one muttered.

The younger guard, who was down to his white briefs, shook his head disbelievingly. “All this time, and we never knew you
had tits like that,” he pouted. “You’ve been hiding them from us.”

“And you both are
still
hiding what you’ve got from me,” she teased. “Come on, boys, don’t be shy. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Like marionettes controlled by the same strings, the head man dropped his towel, the younger ripped off his shorts. Deliberately
she studied their fast-growing equipment,
a faint smile of recognition on her lips. Then, with studied nonchalance, she tugged her negligee over her head and tossed
it aside. Their eyes were glued to her hairless pussy, and slowly she ran her hands over her full breasts, which jutted out
like snow-covered peaks.

“How come you’re bald down there?” the younger asked, licking his lips.

“I like the feel of it,” she said coyly, and thrust her shaven pudendum at them. “Want to pet my pussy?”

As one they pounced on her, their hands grabbing at her clean-shaven mound of Venus. “Easy, boys,” she urged. “There’s plenty
for all.”

Their hard pricks, thick and stubby, poked into her thighs as they continued stroking her bounteous treasures. In spite of
the circumstances, she felt a rising heat within her. Other than the one session with Kolina in the Tahiti sauna, she had
been totally celibate for days and days. Grasping one of their hot dongs in each hand, she began pumping as they stood on
either side of her. Each had a finger in her snatch, one jabbing her button of lust, the other delving deep into her cunt.

A wet mouth fell forward onto each of her breasts, and they jabbed and sucked as if there, were no tomorrow. She caught a
glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror across the room—Honey sandwich, her alabaster body clamped between two hairy apes.
Their attentions to her long-denied body were creating an insatiable desire deep within her. Her legs began to tremble, and
joy juice began to flow readily. She gasped and tried to maneuver them across to one of the beds. They clung to her by mouth
and fingers as she inched forward, not missing a stroke on their blunt, hard tools. With a cry, she threw herself forward
onto the bed, bringing both down with her.

In a tangle of arms and legs, she thrashed, trying to find
a comfortable position. They were still sucking her tits and fingering her apertures, thrusting their penises into her hands
with driving hips. She longed for one of them inside her and rolled on her back, opening her milky thighs wide. At once the
head guard positioned himself between her legs, aiming his thick shaft and plunging it into her. At the familiar but never
dull sensation, she groaned with satisfaction—then choked as the younger guard stuffed his hot dick into her open mouth and
pumped like a rabbit.

Soon this younger guard pulled out of her mouth and scooted down, pushing her and the older guard over on their sides, freeing
her soft white ass. She felt the young guard’s hot cock, slick with her own saliva, poke at her anus. She forced those muscles
to relax and let him ease into her. Squeezed between the two hairy guards, one in her cunt, the other in her ass, she rocked
back and forth with them, relishing the feeling of being completely filled again. They grunted and sweated on her, seesawing
her between them. She was just getting into the swing of things, settling down for a long, satisfying ride, when the older
guard popped a puny climax, followed at once, as if on direct orders, by the younger guard in her asshole. Not even bothering
to bring her to climax, they yanked their stubby dicks out of her, jumped off the bed, and headed for the bathroom, congratulating
each other on a fine fuck.

Shaking with her own unreleased tensions, she followed and found them sharing a large shower stall, with several jets of water
streaming from all sides. Over their protests that they were going to be late, she slipped in between them. They ignored her
and she finally lay down on the wet tiles, putting her open legs up on one of the walls and positioning herself so that one
of the hard jets of warm water was aimed directly at her clit. Bouncing her hips at the sensational feeling, she quickly brought
herself to a
rousing climax, her squeals of pleasure echoing off the tile walls. The two guards busily soaping their bodies, stared down,
mouths ajar, at this hot French teacher who did not need a man to get off. Then, with a smirk, Honey bounced out of the shower
without even a goodbye.

In her own room, she hurriedly toweled off and dressed in her darkest clothes. Locking her door from the inside, she clambored
out the open window and carefully crawled along the wide ledge until she gained the safety of the upper veranda. Once there,
she stood and ran down the exterior stairs to the garage. Crawling into the back seat of the dark sedan, she threw a lap robe
over herself and waited. Not long afterwards, she could hear the two guards approaching, then climbing in, the auto starting
and heading for the village. Holding herself as still as possible, she listened to the two thugs congratulating themselves
on finally “fucking the shit out of that stuck-up piece of ass.” The younger one made a disturbing comment, however, saying
he thought the schoolteacher was a hell of a lot like that hot bitch who had blown them in the Jockey Club’s first-aid room.

As soon as the car had parked and the two guards exited, Honey waited for several moments, then carefully crawled out. The
sedan was parked deep in the shadows, in an alley next to a Moorish-looking hotel. In the distance a band was playing raggedly.
At the alley entrance she spied the two guards strolling around the corner. Taking a penknife from her purse, she quickly
jammed it into a rear tire, and as soon as the air started escaping, she ran toward the brightly lit street and slowed, checking
their whereabouts. The pair were entering the hotel by the main entrance. She hesitated, wondering how she could get to Dirk
before they did. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she pulled up abruptly—the guards were leaving the hotel. With a dash, she
made the shadows of the alley.
They passed by her so close she could have spit on them. As they moved on, one pulled out of his jacket a nasty looking snub-nosed
revolver, flipping it open and examining the cylinders before packing it away.

Honey started after them, sticking close to the buildings. The band music drew closer, sounding more spirited. There were
quite a few stroller’s about, well-dressed tourists and locals out for their evening promenade. She fell in behind one group
who all spoke in Scottish brogues. The guards were half a block ahead, skirting a large plaza-like park, in the center of
which a small military band was blasting forth. A large crowd had gathered and she could see the guards lingering by a tree,
focusing their attention on one section of the audience. She scanned the crowd in that area and saw him at once. Dirk’s sandy
blonde head towered over the others nearby. Her heart jumped into her throat. The Scottish tour disbanded, some moving into
the park to listen, others continuing on up the street. She inched closer to the martial music, trying to think of a way to
warn him. The music was so loud, with a heavy emphasis on brass and drums, that she was positive a gunshot would barely be
heard.

Keeping a steady eye on the guards lounging against the tree trunk, she rummaged in her purse and found a scarf, which she
tied around her head and under her chin. With that minimal disguise, she began moving in a heavy manner, changing her walk
as much as she could, head down, as if weary from long hours working in a factory. Closer and closer she moved toward Dirk,
fighting the desire to run to him. She glanced up to locate him, and cursed under her breath. He had moved off by himself
and was standing at the rear fringes, surveying the crowd, his tall frame a perfect target.

She was fifty feet away when she detected movement from the guard with the gun. He had taken off his jacket,
bunched it around the pistol, and laid it across his arm, propped on the tree trunk. He was aiming directly at Dirk! She shouted,
“Dirk! Duck, dammit!”

He whirled in surprise toward her voice just as the pistol cracked. The bullet must have just missed his head by inches, for
he immediately dropped to the grass. But he was searching for her. She started running toward the other end of the park, shouting
over her shoulder, “Soon!”

She ducked into the crowd, and it was several precious moments before she emerged on the far side. It took her still more
time to locate a taxi. Urging the old cabbie to drive as fast as he could, she collapsed into the back seat, her heart still
pounding like the bass drum in the park. Outside the entrance to the isolated villa, she paid the driver handsomely and darted
through the thick foliage to the beach. Once there, she skirted around to the front of the villa and noiselessly made her
way up the outside stairs. The squeal of tires on gravel announced the hasty return of the guards. They’d been faster changing
the tire than she had hoped. Scrambling along the ledge on her hands and knees, she climbed in through the open window and
stripped off her clothes, climbing into bed just as the door was thrown open.