"My advice is, no one goes out and no one comes in," Agent Gerald Maytag said.

The faces of the young men scattered around the hotel suite dropped. "That is such bullshit!" one declared. It was Josh Cynwood, called JC most of the time.

"Yeah, what the fuck is this?" asked Ricky Derringer. Like JC he was in his early twenties, and they shared the same short fashionable haircut, gelled and brushed carefully to make it look like they just got out of bed. But JC wore excessively baggy jeans and an LA Kings hockey sweater, while Derringer favored a tighter look: black leather pants and tight fitting black t-shirt. A loose fitting gold chain hung at Derringer's wrist and caught the light of the room as he raised his arms in argument. "I mean, we're not under arrest, right?"

"No," Agent Heather Stanton admitted. "You're not."

"Fuckin' A," JC announced. "I'm 5000. How 'bout you, Brick?"

Jason Brickhouse ran a dark hand over his short kinky hair in thought. He licked his lips and stood up. "Yeah, man, this hotel is whack. Let's do this town."

"Sit down, JC! You too, Brick." The voice belonged to Wade De Martin, the oldest member of "4 Players" and some said the most talented.

"You're gonna go along with this shit, Wade D?" asked Derringer.

"I think we should at least listen to why they think we need to stay here tonight." Wade gestured around the private suite as if it were the proverbial last place on earth.

Maytag took that as his cue to speak, but he was interrupted by the ring of a cell phone. Everyone in the suite instinctively reached for their pocket, but it was JC that spoke.

"'Sup," he announced in a detached voice that didn't match the speed with which he answered the phone. "Oh, shit, G, wassup?" JC grew more involved with his conversation, and Maytag wondered if he should continue his explanation or wait.

Wade noticed. "He'll be on that thing all night," he said. "Just ignore him."

"First of all," Maytag began, "now that Johnny O is dead we have to take these threats seriously."

"I thought he OD'd?" Derringer asked.

"It certainly looks that way," Agent Stanton said. "But Maytag and I haven't seen the coroner's report yet, and we don't want to take any chances."

"Oh, shit!" JC exclaimed into his mobile phone. "I'm feelin' ya, brother! I am feeling you!"

Ignoring JC, Maytag added, "Our concern is especially high since you received that note this morning." He was referring to a letter that arrived for them at the hotel. It was a page from a hardcore pornographic magazine depicting a man and woman having sex. The man's head was cut out of the picture and taped elsewhere on the page, surrounded in red ink. A caption has been added as well: "It Just Isn't Worth It."

JC ended the call and looked over at Wade. "We cool? Cuz I gots to jet."

"It looks like we're not going anywhere," Wade said.

"Fuck that, Wade D," JC said. "I can't have this man. We're up here, and the hotties are down there."

"Yeah, man," added Derringer. "This is bullshit. Why can't you just follow us like real bodyguards?"

"We don't have the manpower," Maytag admitted.

"Why not let people come up here?" Jason Brickhouse asked.

"We can let crew members in," Stanton replied. "We've done background checks for them."

"Listen, lady," Derringer said, "I am not going to stay up here and party with the fuckin' roadies."

"Seriously, yo," JC said flashing his hands in front of him as if he were juggling his words. "I have to get laid tonight."

"You may want to reconsider partying with the roadies, then," Maytag said.

JC's phone rang again, and he answered it with the same "'Sup" greeting as before.

"Maybe you can stick the phone in your pocket and put it on vibrate mode," Stanton suggested. The discussion was over. The band was confined to the hotel suite. Maytag and Stanton left the suite as very unpopular figures.

Standing by the bank of elevators, Maytag said "I give them an hour before they try to talk us into letting them go out."

Stanton snorted. "Wanna bet? I say they don't last fifteen minutes."

"No bet," Maytag said with his palms upraised. "I suspect before the night is over we may have to bribe them or handcuff them to keep them from leaving."

While they waited for the inevitable interruption, the two agents discussed the death of John Osage, the recording artist and teen idol known as Johnny O. He was found dead in his hotel room, apparently from a drug overdose. Yet everyone from Johnny O's agent to his Zen mentor claimed he never touched narcotics. No drug paraphernalia was found at the scene. If it was homicide, it was a mystery how the deed was done.

"I think a forced injection is out of the question," Stanton said.

Maytag ran a hand through his hair. "Agreed. No sign of struggle at the scene, no obvious marks on the body."

"Could be poison," Stanton suggested. "Someone could have tainted his food, maybe slipped something in his drink."

"We won't know anything until the toxicology report comes back," Maytag said. "Besides, it may have nothing to do with our case. It may just be coincidence."

Wade interrupted them. "I hope you don't mind," he said. "I just wanted some fresh air."

Maytag checked his watch. "I would have won."

Wade looked confused. "Nothing," Stanton said. "Everything OK in there?"

"Yeah," Wade answered. "They ordered some pay-per-view movie."

"Anything good?" Stanton asked.

"Uh," Wade stammered. "'The Bare Witch Project.' It's a porno."

Maytag raised his eyebrows. "I think this may be the first case in history where the porn spoof of a movie actually has the higher budget! I have to get a look at this. What do you say, Stanton?"

"I think I'll skip this one," she said. "I already read the book."

"Your choice. How about you, Wade?"

"Nah, I'm cool," he answered as Maytag left the hall. His words and manners hung as easily as the silk shirt that flowed over his torso and swayed loose outside his trousers. Wade wore no jewelry save a wristwatch, and his hair was neat but stylish. Other than Stanton he was the only one in the hall, but she had the feeling he would stand out no matter how many people were around. There was something about him, a presence. It inspired a question.

"So," Stanton began. "Rumors are that you may leave the group?"

For a moment Wade seemed surprised, but his easy smile returned. "I thought we might have a nice little conversation," he said. "And now you sound like a reporter."

"I'm sorry," Stanton replied. "That just popped out."

"No problem, I was just teasing." he assured her. "But those rumors are going around and it's tough to answer the same questions all the time."

"I apologize," Stanton said again. "Forget I even said that."

Wade studied her; his dark eyes made contact with her bright blues. "Actually, I don't mind. In fact it might be nice to talk about this with someone who won't write an article about it or go and talk to our agent about it. And you wouldn't do that, would you Agent Stanton?" He smiled again, broadly, revealing that he had dimples.

"Please," she said. "Call me Heather."

"Heather," he repeated with a mellifluous voice that helped sell one million albums. He flashed his broad smile.

Wade went on to explain that he liked all the guys in the band, that they grew up together. Now that they were successful, when they should be happiest together, reporters and agents kept trying to split them apart. There was tension where there was none before.

"Between you and Derringer," Stanton remarked.

"You noticed, huh?"

Stanton nodded her head. "But JC and Brickhouse seem to be on your side. They listened when you told them to stay put."

"It's the same thing as Derringer," Wade replied. "They think I'm going to go solo. But instead of acting hostile like Derringer, they go along with what I want - not to rock the boat, y'know. Sometimes they side with him, though. Like the next argument, probably. We should change the name of the band from 4 Players to something like 3 Players Against One. That's what it feels like sometimes."

The conversation drifted to less serious matters. It moved slow and easy, circling in an eddy sometimes around one topic, bubbling with laughter before floating on to a new topic. An hour went by without either realizing it.

They were so involved in their dialogue that Maytag's entrance seemed a sudden invasion. "You know, bad lighting is usually a problem with porn, but there was something really sexy about flashlights in the forest."

"Good one?" Wade asked.

"I've seen much worse," Maytag said. "Stanton can vouch for that."

She ignored the request for comments. "Everything still OK in there?"

"They started to hit the mini-bar. Maybe a little restless, but not so bad."

"I better head back in," Wade said. "Don't want anyone to think I wandered off."

"I'll come with you," Stanton said. As an afterthought she added, "You OK out here Maytag?"

"No problem," he answered. "Maybe you can help them decide on the next one. It's either 'Wet Nurse 3' or 'Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Give Head.'"

"Oh, I love costume dramas," Stanton said as they went from the hall to the suite.

Inside the suite, beer cans littered the coffee table. Jason Brickhouse looked up from his seat on the sofa. "Hey, Wade's back."

JC looked back over his shoulder. "Wade D, man, you just missed like the worst fuckin' porno ever. There was these three smokin' hotties but you couldn't see shit because they kept using flashlights and shit."

Derringer watched as Stanton followed behind Wade. He took a sip from his beer, then gestured to Stanton. "Hey, Wade, I hope you brought enough for everyone."

"What was that?" Wade asked. He took a step toward Derringer.

Brickhouse looked away from the television and watched Derringer and Wade intently. JC stood up from his chair. Stanton gauged her distance from Derringer and took a step closer herself. "Wade," she said, "That was just a joke."

Derringer did not move his gaze from Wade. "Yeah, Wade. Just a joke. Now you and Yoko can continue your little party while the three of us sit here with our thumbs up our ass."

This was it, Stanton thought. The playboy musicians suffered through two hours of hyper cabin fever, drank a bit too much, and now the fight was going to break out. Although she had confidence in her fighting ability, she knew this was a no win situation. Stanton guessed that if she held back Wade then Derringer would attack anyway. Most likely JC or Brickhouse would jump in, and the hotel suite would end up taking the brunt of the damage. If she accosted Derringer, someone other than Wade would jump in, Wade would defend her, and the result would be the same.

Maytag might help, but it was too late to fetch him. Should he stumble in on his own, things might get better, or worse. No matter which we she imagined it, the calculus added to hotel damage, a trip to the hospital, and a lot of explaining to do in the morning. Unless...

"I don't think there's any need to fight over me," Stanton said.

Derringer and Wade continued their staring contest. "Who said anything about you?" Derringer asked.

"Why you did, Derringer," Stanton replied, moving behind him. She slinked over to the couch and sat down, taking in an eyeful of JC and Brickhouse before speaking again. "And in answer to your question, I think there's plenty of me for everyone."

Derringer turned part way to face her. "Is that so?"

"Don't let him bully you, Heather," Wade said.

That brought Derringer's attention back to Wade. "So we're on a first name basis, huh, Wade?"

"You can call me Heather, too, if you like, Derringer."

"So, what are you like some sort of groupie now?" asked JC.

"I wouldn't go that far," Stanton said. "After all, you haven't given me any reason to want to stay here and pass the time with you."

"Like cash?" JC asked.

Brickhouse slapped JC on the arm hard enough to knock him off balance. "Don't be an asshole, JC!"

"What did I say?" JC demanded.

"JC," Derringer said, "If you don't get your foot out of your mouth I'm gonna send my fist in there to take it out for you." Derringer turned his attention back to Stanton. "Now you were saying?"

"I wasn't saying anything," Stanton replied. "I was hinting."

"And what were you hinting at?" Brickhouse asked in his deep bass voice, his best Barry White imitation. He acted as if he knew the answer to his question already.

"That I could be seduced," Stanton said.

"You don't have to do this," Wade said. His face showed his concern.

Stanton tried to dispel his doubts with a look. When her blue eyes melted away half his worry, she licked at the side of her lips and attacked the remainder. "Maybe I'd like to be seduced," she said.

JC ignored the advice of his friends and asked, "Just how are we supposed to do that?"

"Well, you guys sing," Stanton said with equal bluntness. "Why not serenade me?" She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms in front of her, waiting for their response.

The boys looked at one another, and Wade D gestured with his hands for them to gather around him. They huddled and listened while he whispered. Heads began nodding in agreement.

Derringer started to leave the huddle, but Wade D. reeled him back to the group. "We're going to start like this," he said. Aside from JC's outburst, it was the only bit of their conference that Stanton heard. She leaned back in her chair without knowing what to expect.

About that time, by the bank of elevators, Maytag stood at attention also not knowing what to expect. A bell had sounded and the light over one set of elevator doors was lit. Access to the top floor was restricted: the same magnetic strip passes that controlled the doors of the rooms gave access to the top floor in the lifts. The band and their FBI watchers were the sole occupants of the entire floor. Besides them, only hotel staff could reach the top floor.

Therefore Maytag was not surprised when the doors opened and revealed a young woman in a red jacket and black bow tie standing behind a cart. The cart was draped with a white cloth and held covered trays, all of the same size, resting neatly in three stacks. The woman, whose short ash blonde hair was held down flat by a plain hair clip, pushed the cart into the hall.

"May I help you?" Maytag inquired.

"Room service," she answered with a polite smile.

"I don't believe we ordered any." Maytag's thoughts drifted to Stanton's speculation of food tampering.

"Look mister, I just deliver the stuff, OK?" She pushed the cart toward the door.

Grabbing the front end of the cart, Maytag blocked her path. "I'm quite sure we didn't order anything."

The blonde's lips were painted a soft pink, and they tightened. Her eyes were circled with a thin dark line, but the fierce look she gave him needed no highlighting. Quickly, though, the confrontational expression disappeared and was replaced with a small smile.

"You win," she said "I know who's in that room, and I'm just trying to sneak in to meet them."

Maytag nodded. "And your name?"

"Lindsey. Lindsey Ward."

"I'm sorry, Lindsey, but I can't let you go in there," Maytag said.

"There's nothing I can do to get in that room?" she asked with one finger pulling down her lower lip.

"Not really."

"But I brought all that food up here," she pleaded. "It's nice and hot. And good."

"Unfortunately, you're going to have to take that back with you, too. Security reasons. Nobody in, nobody out."

Lindsey got closer to Maytag and put a hand on the lapel of his suit jacket. "If you can't be bribed with food, I can try another method." She started to slide the hand down Maytag's chest. He stopped her and pushed her away gently.

"I don't think so." Maytag said flatly.

The blonde harrumphed, adjusted her skirt, and returned to her cart. She stopped there and turned abruptly. "Are you gay? That would totally take the fun out of blowing you to get into that room, but I'll just give you a hundred bucks, or try to find you a date or something."

"I'm not gay," Maytag answered. "I'm just doing my job."

"You're like super cop, huh? Well even supercops like blowjobs. I can't convince you of my good intentions by sucking your dick?"

Maytag felt a small lump in his throat. He was no super cop, and he liked blowjobs. He summoned his will power. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I'll bet," she answered. She wheeled the cart toward the elevator and mumbled under her breath. She pushed the button to summon the elevator when something caught her eye: a sign. "In case of fire, use stairs." She turned to face Maytag.

"Nobody in, nobody out?" Lindsey asked.

"That's the rule."

"If there was a fire, everyone would have to go out."

Maytag didn't like the direction she was headed. Nevertheless he acknowledged her. "That's right."

"What if one of them slipped away in the confusion?"

Maytag said nothing.

"If I can't show you my good intentions, maybe I can force you with bad intentions."

"I'm not susceptible to threats," Maytag said.

"How about threats and a blowjob?" Lindsey asked.

Maytag was no super cop. The helpless look on his face proved it.

*

Inside the room, the guys emerged from their huddle and stood in a line with their heads down. Wade snapped his fingers in time, and they lifted their heads in unison, singing a cappella. Wade sang the lyrics, the others provided the melody and echoed the chorus.

          Never felt like this before
          you're all I want and more
          now the answer's up to you

          My legs feel so weak
          before you speak
          I don't know what you'll do

          If you say no I'll have to go
          If you say goodbye I may just die

          But If you say yes
          this will be the best
          night of my life

Stanton recognized "If You Say Yes." The ballad had been a huge hit for the band. She thought the song was so much saccharine, and changed the radio dial whenever it came on the air, but she had to admit the boys sounded good.

          I've said all I can say
          now I sit and pray
          while you make up your mind

          It almost hurts to hear
          your whisper in my ear
          A heartbeat suspended in time

          My words are poor, they weren't planned
          If you say no I'll understand

          But If you say yes
          this will be the best
          night of my life

Considering the circumstances, the song was strangely appropriate. In fact, the song sounded sweet to Stanton. Wade concentrated his attention on her, and the others conveyed emotion just as well. Even JC looked sincere.

          I'll be sad ever after
          If no is your answer
          Two letters that cut like a knife

          But if you say yes
          this will be the best
          night of my life

By this point, Wade had knelt down in front of her. He extended his hand out to her. Stanton accepted his hand, and he helped her off the couch as they finished the song.

          Oh if you say yes
          this will be the best
          night of my life

Wade looked deep into her eyes as he sang. When they finished, Stanton didn't know what to say. She was relieved of a need to react when Wade turned his head and called "Hit it, JC!"

While Stanton's attention was fixed on Wade's fine features, JC moved to stage left. He activated a small machine and canned percussion spilled out into the room. Wade took a step back from Stanton, and the boys started a choreographed dance in time to the music. JC took his place with the rest of the band, and Stanton watched as the foursome swung their hips and gyrated in unison. Her head bopped along with the funky beat. 4 Players began to sing the number they weren't allowed to play in Boston, "Strip it Down":

          Looks like the last tenant
          treated this beauty with neglect
          didn't take care of his business
          barely kept the thing erect

          We're gonna do it better
          with wood that's good and strong
          work all night if we have to
          and sweat it out till dawn

As they sang the chorus, the boys teasingly shifted their weight side to side and unbuttoned the tops of their pants.

          We're gonna strip it down
          Strip it bare down to the ground
          Paint it red and shake it all around
          Strip it down
          Strip it down

Leeringly, Stanton looked them over. Wade D began to unbutton his shirt during the next verse, and JC discarded his hockey sweater entirely, leaving him in a tight tank top that showed off his trim upper body.

          Just takes a little friction
          just takes a little heat
          To peel that flimsy layer off
          get the surface smooth and neat

          Firm and steady brush strokes
          to cover it head to toe
          And when we're done the first time
          We'll give it a second coat

By the time they reached the chorus, the boys were removing their shirts entirely. Slowly they pulled the shirts above their waists, teasing Stanton with glimpses of their toned abs before pulling the shirts over their heads, or, in the case of Wade D, moving one tan, muscular arm after another out of the confines of his silk top before letting it fall to the ground.

          We're gonna strip it down
          C'mon baby let us show you how
          Paint it red and shake it all around
          Strip it down
          Strip it down

Stanton looked them over, and she lingered on their sexy mid-sections. Washboard, six-pack, whatever you called it, all four had them. Stanton's appreciation of the band's personal trainer grew almost as fast as the warmth in her crotch. Stanton fought off the desire to run a hand between her legs to assuage that yearning discomfort. Then she felt the eyes on her, and realized that they begged her to do just that.

          We're gonna strip it down
          Work it over down to the ground
          Paint it red and shake it all around
          Strip it down
          Strip it down

The song urged her on, and she slid a hand against the front of her pants. It was half show and half blissful relief as her fingers pressed against her snatch through two layers of clothes.

Stanton used her free hand to unbutton her jacket. She pulled the hand away from her moistening cunt and removed the top. A simple white bra held her tits tight against her chest. Stanton unclasped it and bared her breasts and their dark, hard nipples to the boys, who had finished the song. As bare chested as her entertainers now, Stanton gave them a wry smile.

JC slipped a hand inside his baggy pants and gave an appreciative yell. "Strip it down, baby!"

Wade kicked off his shoes. Stanton copied his motion, as did Brickhouse and Derringer. JC stroked himself instead. Stanton unhooked the back of her pants, removed her weapon and set it on the floor. She pushed it under the sofa with one stockinged foot, and proceeded to take off her pants. Her white panties were as simple as her bra, but they were cut high on the hip and exposed a delectable portion of leg not covered by her nude thigh high stockings.

"How about a kiss?" Stanton asked.

Three young men jumped forward (JC was busy with his hand in his pants) but Wade was the fastest of the bunch. His lips met hers and they locked in a warm wet embrace. His hands drifted to her firm behind. With thumbs hooked inside the waist band, Wade started to roll the garment along her hips. Wade pulled his lips away from Stanton's so that he might bend over and remove the panties entirely.

"Why not let someone else do that?" Stanton asked. "That way we can keep doing this." She planted her lips firmly on his and enjoyed another passionate kiss.

Brickhouse was closest, and he slipped behind Stanton. She felt his hands on her waist. While her tongue delved between Wade's lips, she snuck a glance down to see two hands reach around to her tummy. The dark hands stood out against her skin, as strong a contrast as the black patch of hair that emerged from the top of white cotton panties. The hands moved down her legs, the palms rolled gently over the points of her hip bone. Stanton closed her eyes again as Brickhouse removed her underwear entirely and exposed her hot pussy to the cool air of the room.

As Stanton and Wade kissed, Brickhouse crouched and appraised the agent's freshly exposed ass and licked his lips in appreciation. Derringer slipped out of his pants, and JC worked his fist furiously inside his own. Brickhouse pushed his lips against Stanton's ass. He licked one cheek, down to her thigh and the tops of her stocking before bouncing up and slipping his tongue along the furry junction between her legs.

Stanton moaned as she kissed Wade. Just as Wade cupped her breasts and flicked his thumbs over her hard nipples, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Mind if I cut in a second?" Derringer asked.

Wade looked into Stanton's shiny blue eyes and sighed. "Yeah, but I'm cutting back in soon."

Stanton smiled as Wade took a step back and allowed her a full view of Derringer. Except for the gold chain on his wrist, he was completely naked. Surprisingly, his tan did not stop at the waist. Neither did his fine physical form. And one particular part of that form pointed straight out at her as Derringer approached. Stanton had a hand full of cock well before she had a new kissing partner.

Brickhouse had worked his tongue inside her lips now, and as Stanton's lips met Derringer's she made a loud "mmph" noise through her nose. Brickhouse licked away, Wade stripped off his pants, Stanton tugged on Derringer's cock, and JC did the same to his own.

Wade watched Stanton grip Derringer's hard cock and Derringer grope her tits in turn, all as Brickhouse's arms wrapped Stanton's legs. He was lost in the sight for a moment. Then he looked over at JC's onanistic workout and the spell was momentarily snapped. He realized the electronic drums were still playing in their endless percussion loop.

"JC!" he called. "Stop jerkin' off for a second and turn off that drum machine. It sounds like a fuckin' porn movie in here."

"Dude, it IS a fuckin' porn movie in here." JC pulled his hand out of his pants and walked over to the drum machine. "And it's damn better than that one we saw tonight, yup yup."

Wade ignored him. "Just put some other music on, and then make sure that door is locked."

"What am I your servant, now?" JC asked.

"No," Stanton said, leaving Derringer's kiss. "You're mine. Come over here when you're done and let me take care of whatever's been bothering you in your pants."

Stanton bent over, pushing her ass into Brickhouse's face and exposing more of her juicy slit to his eager tongue. The faint whiff of her scent was replaced with the full smell of her arousal. Brickhouse licked and swirled around her twat, then pushed forward, plunging inside with gusto.

With her hands around Derringer's slim waist to support her weight, Stanton was free to wrap his cock with her mouth. By pushing against him and letting herself fall back again, Stanton guided her mouth over the length of his shaft. Her tits rocked gently. Wade stripped off his underwear, and his stiff prick bobbed in the air as he moved toward Stanton.

"I'm gonna cut back in now," Wade announced.

So the swapping began. The boys took turns placing their heads between Stanton's legs, eventually bringing her to orgasm and causing a minor break in her fellatio endurance test. For Stanton certainly enjoyed the steady parade of cock that hovered in front of her face; the sight of well built young men to either side of her, jerking off in anticipation; and the small ache in her jaw from the strain. It was a fine display of dick sucking.

There was more of the same out in the hall.

Maytag had settled on a spot in front of the emergency stairs, around the corner for the elevators, and out of view of the suite entrance. He figured that from there he could hear the door or the elevator bell before anyone could see him with his dick swinging in Lindsey's face. At least that was what he thought before she started giving him head.

It started out simply. Maytag took off his suit jacket, Lindsey made a comment about the equipment in his shoulder holster. He unzipped his pants and she made another comment about the equipment in his boxers. The quips were remarkably similar. Lindsey pulled his underwear down to his knees, looked up at him and smiled and then took his partially limp organ in her mouth. She hummed, tugged on him with her mouth, and soon he was fully aroused. His meat swelled, and her pink lips made a lovely O shape to fit him in her mouth. Lindsey grabbed his ass. It was the first she had used her hands since pulling down his boxers.

That was when the noise started. Lindsey used her grip on his ass to anchor herself and she began to bob her head on his cock like a rubber dinghy caught in a sea storm. With each stroke, she pulled all the way off his cock,making a plopping sound and smacking her lips. Her mouth was a spring of wetness, and spit dribbled down the length of Maytag's shaft to tickle his balls. She moaned the whole time, as if his turgid cock was some kind of harmonica. It was the loudest, wettest, sloppiest blowjob Maytag had ever received.

"Oh, fuck," he mumbled.

Maytag bucked his hips slightly, but Lindsey noticed. She took half his length in her mouth, then smacked him on the ass. When Maytag stood still she slapped him again, harder. He got the message and bucked his hips. He fucked her pretty pink lips, fucked that wonderfully wet mouth, until the pressure of orgasm built up and sapped the strength from his legs.

Lindsey took up the motion for him, continuing the same slurping style of cocksucking she started with. After another quick slap to his buttock, Lindsey deftly moved her hand to the the cleft of his cheeks and slid a finger into his ass. Maytag gasped for breath.

All the while, her sucking was relentless, and even as Maytag's spunk surged into her mouth she kept on bobbing her head on his shaft. "God damn," he grunted. Maytag was drained. He thrust his arm out to the wall for support. He could hardly stand.

Lindsey was much more energetic. "Good?"

"Better than good."

"Did you like how I just slipped that in at the end?" Lindsey had produced a compact mirror and tube of lipstick from somewhere. She applied a fresh coat of pink to her lips.

"That was a surprise," Maytag admitted. He caught his breath and pulled up his pants.

"Now do you think I can get in there?" Lindsey asked.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you bring that food in there," he said.

"Fine! I'll leave the food out here."

That certainly eased Maytag's suspicions. The blowjob helped, too. He caved. "I just want to search you first."

"I bet you do," she teased.

Maytag patted her down, and only felt a few loose objects in her jacket. "Empty the pockets."

Lindsey did as ordered. Maytag examined the compact and the lipstick tube; one key chain; a set of twenty dollar bills tied with a rubber band: probably for bribes to get up here, Maytag thought. He noted there was no identification, but shrugged it off. One last item intrigued him: a blister with foil covering one side. It looked like some over-the-counter drug. Several tablets had already been pushed through the foil.

"What's this?" Maytag asked.

"Suppository." Maytag kept his gaze on her. She elaborated. "I wouldn't want to get pregnant or anything. I mean, it's just not worth it."

"Could you repeat that?" Maytag asked.

"I said it's a suppository."

"After that. You said something after that. You said, 'It's just not worth it.'" Those were the same words used in the threatening note.

Maytag reached a hand into his jacket. Lindsey moved to place the cart between the two of them. But Maytag did not grab his weapon. Instead he reached behind his back and shoved his hand into his pants. He grimaced, and then removed his hand. He held out his palm, revealing a white tablet, like the ones from the package. It had already started to soften. "Just slipped that in there, huh, Lindsey?"

"You've got the wrong idea," she said.

"I'm sorry, Lindsey."

Then Maytag did draw his weapon. He ordered the blonde to put her hands on the wall, and proceeded to cuff her. Maytag placed Lindsey Ward under arrest. Hardly a fair way to reciprocate.

*

In the hotel room, Stanton kept at her definition of body guard duty. Pricks that started out as dangling hoses had long since turned to stiff rods. As much as she liked feeling them swell against her lips and push firmly down on her tongue, Stanton had another fine use for them. She was about to suggest one when Derringer spoke up.

"Come over here," he said. Those were rather ordinary words, to be sure, but the picture he cut as his firm buns moved over to the couch and sat down, and his hard cock pointed straight up at the ceiling, was enticing enough.

Stanton moved to the couch, and the remaining trio stared at her ass. Brickhouse and the others had a close up view, but now they got to appreciate it in its wider context. One at a time, the legs in their beige stockings slid onto the cushions. She straddled Derringer's legs.

"That's it baby," Derringer said, "Ride this fucking cock." As an invitation it certainly had more punch than "come over here."

"Like this?" Stanton asked. She reached behind her and grabbed at his dick, taking hold of the root and part of his nut sack. Stanton guided the swollen head to the parted lips of her pussy and then sank her body onto his shaft.

"Damn, I wish I had a camera," JC said, pumping his cock with his fist.

Wade said nothing but moved over to the couch. He stood with one foot on the cushion next to Stanton and the other planted firmly on the floor. Stanton stopped rocking on Derringer's cock and ran her lips along Wade's glistening hard-on.

Derringer grabbed hold of Stanton's ass and thrust up at her. Banging her from beneath caused small waves to ripple across her cheeks, and Stanton grunted in approval. Derringer fucked as hard as he could, and his balls slapped up at her backside just after every upstroke. JC and Brickhouse urged him on.

"Yeah, Derringer"

"Fuck her, man, fuck her."

Stanton felt another orgasm coming, and stood still. But Wade and Derringer kept stroking. Wade moved his cock back and forth in her mouth, with a hand on the side of her face to guide him. Derringer pounded away at her wet cunt, but the sound of their bodies slapping against each other was drowned out by grunts, heavy breathing, and a steady chorus of "oh yeahs" from all quarters.

When Stanton came, she dug her nails into Derringer's shoulder and Wade's lower back. Wade's cock slipped out of her mouth and ran along her face but Derringer's tool kept on its relentless thrusts. Stanton spasmed.

"Oh, oh, OH, FUCK!" Stanton cried before straining for breath.

But it was Derringer who was exhausted after, and Stanton who found renewed energy. Quickly she lifted herself off his cock, which fell back to his body with a wet smacking sound. Stanton slid down Derringer's sweaty torso and onto the floor. She gripped Derringer's cock at the base and licked her juices from its length.

"Oh, that was so fucking nice," she said.

Kneeling on the ground, Stanton's ass emerged from the tops of her brown thigh high stockings like two scoops of ice cream on top of a sugar cone. JC almost threw the table out of the way to kneel behind her.

"You want some more, baby?" JC asked as he moved his cock between her legs.

"Mm-hmm," Stanton said. It was all she could manage with a mouth full of Derringer dick.

JC rested a hand on her ass. It was slightly damp with perspiration, but nowhere near as wet as her sopping pussy. Once the head parted the seam, JC's dick slid in easily. Her cunt gave way to his thrusts like warm pudding, but the walls constrained him like a vise. The sensation was incredible, and certainly better than his fist had been.

"You like that? Huh? You like that?"

"Mm-hmm," Stanton repeated. She could feel his strokes grow erratic, and she knew he would come any second. To help him, she dipped her lower back up and down, moving her ass back at him. She pulled away from Derringer's member and encouraged him.

"Oh, yeah, like that," she exhorted him. "Fuck me." But at that time, Stanton was doing all the fucking. JC was just a passenger in a roller coaster, watching in amazement at the wonders beneath him, falling over the top of the hill. He came and Stanton felt his warmth spill inside her.

The overwhelming pleasure of Stanton's earlier orgasm had ebbed. In its place was a steady tingle in her pussy, sure to be sore tomorrow, a heightened state of arousal, and a rush of adrenaline. She wanted to call out, "Next!"

The gang-bang had a mind of its own at that point, though, or at least a momentum dictated by position and the boys' need for release. Wade sat down on the couch next to Derringer, giving Stanton a choice of hard dicks to fill her face. Brickhouse slipped behind her and entered just as JC had. His strokes were full and slow, pushing all the way inside her and beyond, pushing her face head against Wade's balls, Derringer's thigh, or whatever was close at the time.

"Uhhh," Stanton grunted. The tiny tingle was growing again, she could feel it. All she really needed was something closer to her clit. She crawled forward, sliding off Brickhouse's cock. On to the sofa, and the incredibly persistent hard-on of Ricky Derringer, she went once more.

"I'm so close, girl," Brickhouse said.

"Let me taste it," Stanton replied.

Brickhouse did as ordered, and Stanton licked his ebony tool top to bottom. It was a mix of salt, pussy, and semen, and it made her nipples harder just to smell it. Stanton slid gently along Derringer's turgid flesh while Brickhouse fucked her mouth in search of release. Wade watched it all and waited his turn.

"Wade D!" JC called. "Fuck her ass, man."

Wade hesitated and JC repeated himself. "Go on, man, do it!"

Stanton took Brickhouse in her fist so she could speak. "Go ahead, stud," she teased.

Wade stood, and moved behind Stanton. He looked down and saw the white of her thighs above the dark tops of her stockings. Her ass looked inviting, all the more as it moved up and down, exposing part of Derringer's engorged prick before swallowing it up again. Wade wondered how he should lubricate her asshole. JC must have been reading his thoughts.

"I got it," JC said. He pulled a small tube out of his pocket. "Lip balm! It should work on this end, too!"

JC placed the nozzle in the crack of Stanton's ass. She felt it and stopped her rocking for a moment. Derringer picked up the pace. JC squeezed half the tube out onto her tight hole and worked a finger inside past the muscular ring.

"Mmmpph," Stanton mumbled around Brickhouse's girth.

Wade dumped the rest of the jelly on his cock and spread it around. JC pulled out of the way, and Wade pushed the distended tip of his prick against the ribbed circle of Stanton's asshole. With one surge he pushed forward and his dick slid in past the tight greased opening and into the hot orifice.

As Stanton jerked Brickhouse off into her open mouth, he watched the other two take turns at stroking her from behind. Her expression was a mix of grimace and grin as those two cocks took turns moving in and out of her ass and pussy. She had trouble staying level with the head of his cock and he had trouble staying his impending orgasm. The curious look of ecstasy on her face proved to be too much. He grunted with arresting pleasure and his breath seemed to stop as his prick pulsed and sprayed Stanton's mouth and chin with a jet of hot white cream. Some dribbled down her neck towards the valley between her tits, some splashed off her cheek and fell on the chest of the man underneath her.

"Hey, watch that," Derringer said.

"Oh, I'll get that," Stanton cooed. She wiped the jizz from her chin with the back of her arm, and then bent down towards the man's chest. Her ass pointed more in the air as she did so, and the gent at her rear straightened his back and continued to slide in her tight hole.

Stanton's long dark hair dangled in Derringer's face. She flipped it over the side of her neck so that he could see her face, and then she licked the fallen jism from his chest.

"Goddamn, girl!" Derringer exclaimed. His amazing endurance gave way in a flash. Semen coursed through his cock and pleasure racked his body.

Wade could feel the twitching against the underside of his prick, and he, too, entered his climax. He stood fixed in place as his orgasm crested. His toes curled, his mouth fell open, and stream after stream of cum surged into Stanton's ass.

"Holy shit," JC said. "That was intense, yo."

No one said anything in response. They were spent. Stanton asked for a glass of water and some towels, and JC dutifully fetched them. A mobile phone began to ring when he returned.

"JC," Derringer said, "I'm gonna throw that thing out the window."

"It's not mine!"

"Oh, shit!" Stanton said. She dropped her towel and an to her suit jacket, removing the phone. "Agent Stanton," she said.

"It's me, Maytag," came the response. "I think I have our stalker."

"Really?"

"Really. She tried to sneak in with a food delivery. But a search revealed some contraband. I'm in the lobby now with her. The local PD just arrived. I think we can wrap this thing up tonight."

"Great."

"I think you should still keep an eye on those guys, though."

"No problem," Stanton assured her partner.

"Have they gotten out of hand, yet?"

"Not at all. In fact they just got done putting on a little show for me."

"Huh? I didn't know you liked their stuff."

"Well," Stanton said as she looked back at the naked guys and winked at them. JC's dick twitched slightly. "They kind of grow on you after a while."

End