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Message-ID: <41660asstr$1049541002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: juliancoreto@operamail.com (Julian Coreto)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 5 Apr 2003 09:39:35 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Alan, Chapter 21
Date: Sat,  5 Apr 2003 06:10:02 -0500
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Author: Julian Coreto
Title: Alan
Part: 21
Summary: Alan sets off for Europe to solve the mystery of the death of
his fellow Seed Vessel Dr. Massimo, continued
Keywords: mc MF

Chapter 21
Resurrecting Jack (part 2)

"He said he would only meet with me, but I figure that with your
abilities that wouldn't pose a problem," Karick said as the trio stood
on the curb, the taxi having just deposited them in one of Paris's
seedier neighborhoods.  They had set out from the hotel not long after
first light, after checking in and leaving their bags in the rooms.

"No, that wont be a problem," Alan agreed.

Karick rang the bell and led them in after their host buzzed them door
open.  Alan immediately took charge, calming the man's fears.

"I don't like it," he said quietly to Karick, who assured him Alan and
Neil would be discrete. When the former Czech intelligence agent
started to introduce his colleagues to the grubby document expert he
was cut off.  "Call me...Viktor," obviously making up a name on the
spot.

"Alright, Viktor," Alan said, extending his hand out, but it was not
taken.

"You have the document?"

Alan nodded, and handed it over, and the three of them followed Viktor
into his work room.  Viktor held it up to the light, looked at the
wordless parchment wordlessly for a few seconds, and then clamped it
down on a lightboard.  A magnifying glass, attached to the side of the
lightboard by a swinging arm, was moved into place, and Viktor took
station over it.  Without moving his head from the glass he reached to
a side drawer and pulled out a tool that looked like a needle on a
mount, and then scraped some of the parchment away at the corner.  The
next table over had a small-model gas chromatographer and he prepped
the sample for analysis.

"What do you think?" Karick asked.

"I'll know on a few moments, but my best guess is that it is vellum. 
Sheepskin, probably about mid-fifteenth to sixteenth century.  From
the way it's been cured and treated I would guess Central Asian
origin, Uzbek or Tadjik, a very small chance Armenian. Quite
possibly..." he drifted off, but his eyes lit up at the last thought.

"Is there a hidden message?"

"What?" Viktor asked.  "You're looking for a message?  You should have
said that at the outset," he grumbled as he opened some cabinets
looking for something.  He came back with a spray bottle and without
asking permission saturated both sides of the parchment.

"Hey!  What the fuck are you doing?" Alan yelled.

"Nothing to fear, nothing to fear, boy.  Just watch.  The solution is
almost completely inert."  Viktor flipped a switch and the room's
light all went off, including the lightboard, and a black light
flickered on from both the ceiling and from within the belly of the
board.  In the dim glow of the room Alan could see him beckoning for
him to come closer to the parchment.

"I can state with authority, and you can ask your friend Tadeusz what
kind of authority I am, that this paper is blank.  You see how clean
it is.  No pen marks of any kind, no print marks of any kind.  No kind
of writing or printing instruments have impacted on the paper.  A
virgin, you get it?  Virgin!" he laughed, a rheumy cackle.

The gas chromatographer beeped and Viktor sat down at a p.c. which was
attached to it by a cable.  The results meant nothing to Alan, and he
watched with interest as Viktor loaded a CD into the drive and ran a
comparison program.  "This will take some time," they were informed by
their host.

Alan and Neil went looking for a café, while Karick stayed behind to
keep an eye on things.

"So, Karick, you've come up in the world, I see," "Viktor" said once
the others had left.

"The Cold War is over, my old friend.  I have to make a living
somehow.  To tell the truth, I consider myself lucky. It is a good
job.  No wet work."

"You never did like killing."

"No, but I did it, unhappily.  And you?  Now you forge passports and
identity papers for the highest bidders, not for love of Lenin and
Marx.  More rewarding for you too, no?"

"Victor" sighed.  "The more things change...most of my, ah, clientele,
are Russians, fucking Russians.  Mafiya scum, and kleptocrats calling
themselves without a hint of irony `New Capitalists,'" he grumbled. 
"The pay is better, but the more things change..." he added with a
laugh.

They chatted of trivial things while the computer searched the
database looking for a match to the sample; the computer was fairly
ancient, and taking its time.  When the match had been found Karick
keyed his cell phone and called Alan and Neil back from their coffees.

"Samarkand," Viktor pronounced triumphantly.  "From the workshop of
the Master, I would guess early 1500s."

"The Master?" Alan asked.

It was Neil, to the surprise of the other three who answered.  "The
Master of Samarkand, a dyer, name unknown, who worked from about 1480
to 1515.  His product was of exceptional quality."  Neil pointed to
the parchment laying on the lightbox.  "This is the Stradivarius of
paper, parchment, whatever," he said correcting himself. "If the
provenance can be proven," he ventured, getting a small snarl from
Viktor in response (so unused he was to having his expertise
questioned), that is one valuable piece of parchment."

"Valuable, yes," Alan thought, "But that doesn't quite help us along
in our quest however much it's worth."

"The bleaching process used by him," Viktor began, taking up Neil's
point (and a bit perturbed at being upstaged and doubted), "Is quite
distinct, decades, no centuries ahead of his time.  From the finish on
the document I should have pegged it off right away, but I've never
seen an unused piece of his product."

Later, back at the hotel Alan asked him if that was the clue.  "Do we
need to go?  To Samarkand?  I'm willing, but that corner of the world
is not exactly considered safe."  Uzbekistan borders Afghanistan.

"No, Alan, there's nothing left there.  The Soviets pretty much
plundered the country back in the day, and the best experts about the
Master are all in Russia now.  I know one, he lived in Moscow.  He
consulted with the museum back when I worked there.  Should I call
him?  Try to see if he's still around? He'll be terribly excited
seeing an unused parchment."

"No hold off on that.  Karick's team had been watching Massimo since
before I even acquired my powers. So we know that Massimo was never
even near Central Asia for a long time.  Damn it!  Somehow there's a
message on that parchment, and I just don't know how to get at it. 
What's worse, the dreams are back, and more frequent, more powerful. 
It's like being here, on this side of the Atlantic, I'm closer to the
solution, and Jack is trying to guide me more.  This whole fucking
thing makes no sense."

"Whoa, whoa, step back a minute.  You getting frustrated will not help
you get over this thing."

"You're right," Alan exhaled.

"Let's look at this thing from a logical point of view, OK?"

"OK," Alan responded, rubbing his temples trying to massage the stress
away.

"Massimo is out there somewhere.  In some form, yes?"

"Yes."

"The most important think we have to keep in mind is that HE wants YOU
to find him," Neil reasoned.

"I never thought it through like that.  Yes, you're right," Alan said
sitting up straighter.  "This is good, keep going."

"He wants you, and no one else to find him," Neil said of the top of
his head.  He hadn't really developed a full argument, so he was
winging it.  "He has to leave clues, but clues only you can
understand."

"Yeah.  Keep going."

"No.  I'm spent.  There's something we're missing.Shit.  I need a
vacation."

"Yeah," Alan said as he slouched back again.  "You know what?  We do
need a vacation.  It's Friday, so we'll stop for the weekend. The next
two days, at the least, no work.  I mean it.  We need to recharge."

Swindon-Smythe and Karick made arrangements to visit their native
lands, England and the Czech Republic, respectively, and neither was
worried about being seen, their altered apprearences and new identity
papers eliminating that problem.  For the first time in a few weeks
Alan was alone.

* * *

"Is anyone sitting here?"

Alan looked up from his paper, the International Herald Tribune, and
saw two women standing abreast his table.  It was a sunny morning as
only an early July day in Paris can be light.  After the dampness of
Switzerland it was a welcome respite, and he took advantage of it,
choosing to sit at an outside table for his morning coffee and
croissant.  The two young ladies before him were about his age,
perhaps a few years older.

"No.  Go right ahead," he allowed, signaling to the waiter to come and
take a new order.  After the garcon had gone back inside the café Alan
introduced himself.

"Nice to meetya, Alan,  I'm Margo and this is Lisa," the blonde one
said, extending her hand.  She was almost as tall as he, and she had,
from what her could see, a very nice, curvy figure, punctuated by wide
flaring hips.  Lisa was slighter and darker, with a trim body and
small but very attractive breasts.  Both wore shorts, Margo a
button-down shirt with the tails tied up to expose her tummy, Lisa a
plain white t-shirt, and Alan could tell that she was bra-less.

"So, what brings you two ladies to Paris?"

"Oh, we're bouncing around Europe for the summer, Eurail pass and all.
 We just graduated," Lisa said.  She had a slight Hispanic accent.

"Congrats!  Where did you go to school."

"I went to G.W., and Lisa went to Colgate.  But we grew up together
and we're both going to law school at Virginia, next month.  You?"

"Oh, I just finished my freshman year. Columbia."  The pair was
impressed.

"Are you backpacking this summer, too?" Lisa asked, though she somehow
doubted it.  Alan was dressed too nicely to be someone living out of a
rucksack.  She admired the lines of his Italian suit while waiting for
his answer.

"I wish!  No, I'm over here for work.  Just taking a few days off. 
So, you grew up together.  Where?"

Margo answered.  "Montclair, New Jersey.  Heard of it?"

"Yeah actually, I have.  I'm from Westchester, so were from the same
area really, and one of the guys on my hall last year is from there. 
Do you know Paul Sullivan?"

"The name sounds familiar," Lisa said thoughtfully.  "Is his older
sister Melissa?  Lissa Sullivan?  She was in our class, and I think
she had a younger brother."

"Oh, I don't know," Alan answered.  "Maybe.  We never discussed
brothers and sisters."

Their coffee and breakfast came and they set out sipping and chewing. 
Alan had his cup refilled and glanced at the paper from time to time,
not wanting to seem rude.  He noticed that there were a couple of
vacant tables in front of the café and wondered why the two coeds
hadn't taken one, but had asked to sit with him.  So, he asked.

"Oh, ah, well, we saw you reading the English paper, and we've been
sort of starved for conversation lately.  Neither of us speak French,
only Spanish, so we figured you'd be someone we could talk to," Lisa
said.

"I take it," Alan said, proceeding delicately, "That Spanish is your
first language," he asked Lisa.

"Yeah, that's easy enough to tell.  I was born in Costa Rica, and we
moved to the States when I was ten.  That's when I met Margo," she
said, casting a friendly glance her friend's way."

"Why did your family leave Costa Rica?"

"My dad got a research fellowship at a hospital in New York, and we
never left.  My mom is half-American (her mom was born there), so
citizenship was never a problem, and dad's fellowship turned into a
permanent position."

"Yeah," Margo piped in, "My dad's the one that hired your dad.  And
that's that.  We've been friends ever since.  Best friends."

"So let me get this straight, two doctors have daughters and they both
go to law school.  It must be their worst nightmare!" Alan joked. The
two females giggled, and assured him that their fathers, though
slightly unnerved by the career choice, were supportive nonetheless.

"What's your job?" Margo asked.  Alan told them he had an internship
with a multinational antiquities consulting company, and left it at
that. When the comestibles were at last consumed the three agreed to
spend the day together, seeing the sights Paris had to offer.

* * *

It wasn't that late, just after nine, but the three of them were
relaxing in a bistro, bowls of onion soup before them, a bottle of vin
ordinaire mostly sipped away.  All three of them were foot-weary, and 
Margo was a little drunk, listing to the side, occasionally brushing
against Alan.  He didn't mind; she reminded him of Kate.  A blond,
slightly older, taller, and more confident Kate.  Lisa had been less
affected by the night's revels.  From time to time she reached out and
peeled the label from the glass of the wine bottle; it was a habit, a
little bit of a compulsion, something she always did.

"Soren, my roommate back at college, does that too."

"What?" Lisa asked.

"That thing you're doing with the bottle.  He does that too, though
mostly with beer bottles."

"It's getting on late," Lisa commented, consulting her watch.  "Shit,
I wish our hostel wasn't all the way over on the other side of town."

"You could stay at my hotel," he offered.  The women blushed.  "One of
my business colleagues went to London for a couple of days, and the
other to Prague" he hastily added.  "You can use their rooms, a suite,
actually."

"Sure," they both said at once.

"Nice place," Lisa said approvingly, eying the sumptuous three bedroom
suite. "What was it you said you did, again?"

"Oh, just a summer intern, me," Alan lied.  "The room is being paid
for by the company, so..."  This seemed to satisfy the two of them.

Lisa went into one of the bathrooms to take a shower, and Margo took
another one.  Alan slipped off his shoes and suit coat, and took his
tie out of the pocket and hung it up in the closet in his room.  After
a very short while both ladies emerged from their respective bathrooms
wearing the hotel's white fluffy bathrobes.

The room service man knocked shortly thereafter; he deposited the
coffee service and Alan signed for the tip.  Margo and Lisa eagerly
helped themselves as Alan dashed off for his own shower.

"How do you take yours?" Margo asked as Alan reappeared.

"What?"  He had a towel over his head, drying his hair, rubbing it
vigorously back and forth over his pate.

"Coffee.  How do you take your coffee?"

"If it's good coffee, black"

Margo poured him a cup and he made his way to the couch and took it
from her.  As they sipped and enjoyed the view from the window Margo
thought about the day just passed.  They had gone out that morning
looking.  It had been so long since they had spent time with an
English-peaking person, so they had gone to three cafés before seeing
Alan.  His copy of the IHT had pegged him as a probable American, and
he had been reading the baseball box scores as they approached, and
that clinched it.

In a word, they were lonely, and by meeting Alan they had lucked out. 
Not only was he what they were looking for at the basest level, a
fellow Yank (even from the same part of the country as they were), but
he was nice and charming and witty, and good company.  Though he
wasn't movie-star handsome he was OK to look at.  He had a really good
job, judging by the luxury of the hotel and this suite, and he dressed
well.

"So. what are we doing tomorrow?" Lisa asked from the couch opposite,
her mouth curled up in a small grin.

"Whatever you like, ladies," Alan answered, returning the smile.

"Cool," Margo, this time, "We'll need to head back to the hostel in
the morning to change our clothes and stuff."

"Yeah," Lisa said, "I'm glad for these robes.  I wasn't looking
forward to getting back into my sweaty clothes, though we will have to
a some point."

Margo leaned in closer to Alan, he shoulder lightly pressing into his.
 She had a loopy smile on her face, and it wasn't from drink.  "Do you
have a girlfriend?"

Alan pressed closer to her.  "I do."

"What's her name?" Lisa asked, her eyes shiny.  They didn't know it
but Alan was increasing their arousal.  He, too, had been lonely of
late, his only companions a British archaeologist and a former Czech
intelligence agent.  He hadn't seen Kate in weeks, and he was horny as
hell; just spending time with these two attractive women made him
realize he had been without sex for a long a period since he had
become a Vessel of the Seed.

"Kate, her name is Kate."  Alan told them a few things about his
raven-haired girlfriend.

"Is she pretty," Margo asked, batting her eyelashes.  "As pretty as
us?"

"She's very pretty.  You," he said indicating Margo with a wave of his
hand, "Remind me of her, though she is a little curvier, and she has
this really nice head of black hair, I mean really really black, like
coal."

"I bet she wouldn't be to happy to know you were spending the night in
a hotel with two pretty girls like us, huh?" Lisa asked, her breathing
shallow.

"We, uh, have an arrangement."

"Oh, yeah, I've heard that one a hundred times." Margo said with a
dismissive snort, and Lisa agreed.  Alan used his power to up the
erotic feelings the two of them were experiencing.  On the opposite
couch Lisa began to rub her thighs together in a languid rhythm, and
Margo began to tremble almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah," Lisa added, "What?  An open relationship? You get to sleep
with all the women you want to and she gets to sleep with all the men
she wants to?"

"Not quite," he said, looking right at her.  Lisa felt like this guy
could see right through her, and she was turned on like she had rarely
been before.

"Oh," whispered Margo at his side, her hand lightly stroking his
exposed thigh, her fingertips tracing a soft pattern on his knee. 
"What, you get to sleep with women and she can't?  You cad, you," she
giggled.

"Actually, it's simpler than that.  I get to sleep with all the women
I want, and she gets to sleep with all the women she wants.  Fair's
fair, don't you think?"

Lisa sucked in her breath hard.  She had never been with another women
sexually, but it was one of her deep-seeded fantasies, a fantasy which
had increased of late.  Spending all of this time with Margo in close
quarters recently had, in some small way, made her bisexual tendencies
a little less latent.

For Margo's part she was completely stunned.  Not only had she never
had any sexual contact with another woman she had never even
fantasized about girl-girl sex. She knew of it, of course, but never
thought about it much. If she wasn't so turned on at this moment she
would have bolted to the bathroom, dressed quickly and fled the room. 
Alan had scanned them during their day out together so he knew where,
so to speak, the pieces stood on the board.

"You're kidding," they both said at once.

"I assure you, I am not.  Kate loves me, and I love her, but she also
loves having sex with women, so we decided that both of us could
pursue that," he paused to think of the right word, "Avenue."

"That is so, so--" Margo was flailing mentally trying to decide what
she thought of this.

"--HOT!" Lisa squeaked.  She shifted position slightly, her ass
grinding into the cushions of the sofa trying to deal with the
tingling she felt below the waist.  Her nipples were hard, pressing
against the inside of the robe, stimulated by the arousal within her
and the feel of the soft fabric without her.

"Lisa!" Margo objected, but her companions could sense its
half-heartedness.

"It doesn't turn you on?" Alan asked, his hand against her thigh
slowly moving towards the hem of her robe.  She said nothing, her eyes
fixed on his moving hand.  She was silent as it slipped under the
cloth, and she shuddered as she felt his fingers at her cleft.  She
moaned as she looked up at him hungrily, her blue eyes sparkly with
desire.  As he began to rub her slit with his fingertips she gasped
and didn't fully hear him as he restated the question; she was
distracted by the sight of her best friend standing up and shedding
her robe before coming over to their side of the coffee table.  Lisa
sat on the other side of Alan and began kissing him on his neck and
shoulder, but her eyes were fast on Margo, and she shivered imagining
what Alan's hands were doing under her friend's robe.

"Does it turn you on?  Two girls, doing whatever?" the question was
put to Margo again, but this time by Lisa.

"Yesssssss!" Margo hissed, raising her groin up in hopes of increasing
contact with Alan's magic fingers.  She wasn't quite sure if she was
answering the question or just giving a general endorsement of what
was happening to her, but upon hearing it Lisa jumped up, moved around
Alan and fell to her knees in front of Margo, he hand rapidly joining
his under the blonde's robe.  As Lisa forced a finger up Margo's pussy
Alan sent the blonde a mental command that she should come once Lisa
got all the way up there, and Margo shrieked in release, her chest
heaving as he lower body seized up in orgasm.

"No," she whimpered as she writhed on the couch, her body warm yet
still shivering at the treatment she was receiving at the hands of
Alan and her best friend, "This is, this is wr-wrong," she muttered
through her convulsions.  Lisa started licking her pussy, and her head
fell back, her neck limp as she shaked and writhed under her best
friend's lingual attack.

Alan moved his head in to cover her mouth with his, but he was beaten
to the punch by the kneeling brunette.  Margo was shocked, shocked
that she found herself kissing another girl, but she melted at the
contact; Lisa was so hot she could feel her womanly secretions drip
off her mound and slide down her inner thighs.  She gasped when she
felt the tip of Margo's tongue tentatively emerge and lick around her
mouth, and groaned upon feeling enter her mouth.  She tasted
delicious, and hoped Margo thought she tasted just as nice.

Before she knew what was happening Margo found herself being led to
one of the bedrooms, Lisa holding her left arm, Alan her right.  Her
legs felt like jelly and she was sort of half-dragged along.  The two
of them deposited her on the bed; her robe had slipped off during the
journey, and she hadn't realized she was naked until she felt the
bedspread against her skin.  As she tried to sit upright Lisa tackled
her and laid down on top of her, pinning her by the wrists to the top
of the bed.  They kissed again, and if truth be told Margo had never
had a more passionate make out session.  She had almost forgotten all
about Alan when she felt him softly cupping her tits, and she
shuddered in response.  Suddenly Lisa's mouth abandoned hers; she
opened her eyes and saw Alan and her friend now going at it.  The
respite gave Margo a chance to breathe, a chance to think.  "If I'm
smart I'll get out of here, and maybe drag Lisa off with me," she
pondered, but in the end she did nothing.  Unconsciously her hand made
its way down her body until her fingers were buried in her crotch, her
fingertips tickled by the silky yellow pubic hair.  Watching them go
at it was turning her on even more. Alan had flipped Lisa over so she
was flat on her back, and she could see his hard cock slowly rubbing
against her glistening pussy.  Without knowing why she reached out and
grasped it, guiding it to Lisa's opening.  Lisa screamed at
penetration, and Margo held onto the portion of his penis that was
still outside her friend.

"Man, she's tight," Alan thought as he slowly fed his cock into Lisa. 
He was thinking about moving Margo's hand off his dick so he could
fully penetrate Lisa, but it really didn't matter, there was no way
that he was getting more than half of himself inside her.  He slowly
pulled out a few inches and fed them back in, keeping up a slow
rhythm, but Lisa was having none of it.

"Ha- ha- harder," she moaned, lifting her hips off the bed, trying to
get him to fuck her harder.  "Fuck me harder!"  Margo softened her
grasp on the exposed portion of Alan's cock as he began to pump Lisa
with greater force, though he was unable to force more of himself in
her.  Lisa's face was bright red, and she began to mumble something in
Spanish Alan couldn't quite make out.  After a few minutes Margo,
following Lisa's mammoth first orgasm, took her hand away, startled at
how drenched it was with Lisa's juices.  Alan and Lisa were
concentrated on each other, and making sure neither of them were
watching her she gradually brought her wet hand to her lips;
cautiously he tongue came out her mouth and tasted the shiny girl
come.  By the time Alan looked her way she was avidly cleaning her
palm.

Without Alan's prompting, either verbal or mental Margo lowered her
head and captured the closer of Lisa's nipples between her teeth.

"Oh Yes, Margo!  I like that!" Lisa squealed, her jaw vibrating with
passion.  "Uh, uh, more," she gasped.  Another orgasm rolled through
her body, and Alan came in her, exacerbating the shocking sensations
she felt.  She was panting as Margo kissed her, and their tongues
dueled feverishly; Lisa's face took on a wry smile as she tasted
herself on Margo's lips, and she gasped again as she felt her friend
move down on her body.  Margo licked Lisa's nipples for a short while,
and then she lowered again and considered the sight of the come-filled
pussy before hesitantly swiping her tongue across the dark-haired
slit.

Alan watch the scene unfold with a giddy look upon him; Lisa's eyes
rolled back and she began to grunt as Margo devoured her.  Hard again,
Alan shifted, kneeling behind the crouching Margo, and she started
feeling his hot erection against her ass cheeks, shivering in arousal
as he rubbed the head of his prick up and down her sopping slit.

"Fuck me now," Margo hissed, pulling her face away from Lisa's pussy;
Lisa put her hands on the back of Margo's head, her fingers woven
through her blond mane, trying to get her back in place.  Margo
growled in her pussy as Alan sank most of his cock into Margo's
steaming womanhood.

"Mrrrmph! Mrrrmph! Mrrrmph! Mrrrmph!" was all Margo was able to
express, her mouth occupied with Lisa's pleasure.

Lisa came first, one fist pounding the mattress, the other clenching
around a handful of Margo's light-hued locks.

"Ow! Shit!  Lisa, the hurts," Margo yelled at her writhing friend,
shaking her head vigorously, successfully escaping the painful grasp
Lisa had of her hair.  "Ooooooh, yeah!" she moaned as she felt Alan's
cock moving within her.  He was giving her full strokes, pulling out
so just the head was nestled in her sodden snatch, then powering
forward so his groin slapped against her firm butt with a smacking
sound.  Lisa, recovered to some extent, shimmied down the bed and got
under her friend, her mouth immediately settling on one of Margo's
swinging breasts, the her hand massaging the other.  From time to time
Lisa swapped breasts as Margo became lost in a haze of multiple
orgasms, her pussy clamping down and squeezing Alan's dick as she
gushed out juices around it.

"No, w-w-w-w-wait.  I've never had it there b-b-before," the blonde
stuttered upon feeling Alan withdraw and place his oily cock head
against her sphincter.

"Shhhh, baby, you'll love it," Alan assured her as he used his Seed
powers to relax her aperture and increase her suppressed desire for
anal sex.

"Ohmigod! Is he doing what I think he's doing?" Lisa exclaimed.

"He's fucking, he's fucking, he's fucking my butt," Margo whined, her
body stiffening as she felt an inch or two invade her tightest
passage.  As Alan slowly penetrated to her full depth Margo felt
Lisa's fingers at her vagina.  Two fingers of Lisa's left hand went
right to Margo's stretched front passage, Lisa used the fingers on her
other hand to gently strum at Margo's engorged clit.  The eroticism of
it finally allowed Margo to relax, her mind and conscious effort
clouded by her lusts, and she was astonished to realize that Alan had
sunk all of his huge cock up her virgin ass.  She closed her eyes and
tried to concentrate on the feelings the two of them were fomenting
within her, but she just lost it, degenerating to her basic animal
responses.  Inarticulate, she became animalistic, grunting and
groaning like a beast, her rumblings accelerating as Lisa shimmied
down again and began to lick and suck at her cunt.

As Alan shot his load in her spasming ass Margo orgasmed again and
passed out, her pussy pinning Lisa's head to the bed.  Lisa scampered
out from under Margo quickly, in time to watch Margo's little rosebud
contract back, a trickle of Alan's pearly seed trickling out and
dripping to the bedspread.

"Gross.  Hot," she panted, pulling Alan into an almost breathtaking
kiss, wiggling her sweaty body against his as he licked Margo's
spending from her shimmering face.  Before long two of them found
themselves in the shower, Lisa on her knees trying to take as much of
his wonderful cock in her mouth as she could.  The petite Latina was
disappointed with her efforts, only swallowing about three inches, but
Alan would be the last to complain.  Her tongue fluttered around his
glans in an exquisitely delightful manner, and before long her was
unleashing stream after stream of his come in her mouth and down her
eager throat.

Alan fucked Lisa's ass when they returned to the bedroom, surprisingly
a more "successful" endeavor; Lisa's rear passage was able to
accommodate his shaft to the hilt, though not without a long and drawn
out effort.  He took her from underneath, his hands caressing her butt
as it rose up and fell down the length of his dick, his eyes often
coming to rest on the small butterfly tattoo on her left cheek. Margo
didn't stir in the slightest as Lisa's screams echoed of the hotel's
walls as Alan hosed her ass full of his semen.

* * *

Lisa turned over, onto her back.  Margo was nestled beside her, curled
up in a ball, her head under Lisa's arm.  Lisa felt as if she couldn't
move, she was stiff and tired.  Through the doorway of the bathroom
she watched raptly as Alan went about his morning business.  The
mirror was steamy with a small patch in the center wiped away, and she
relaxed as she witched him shave.  The vapor went away gradually, and
when Alan finished washing the stray bits of later off of his face he
spied her watching him, and winked.  She gathered up her strength and
sat up and he turned to face her.

"Morning.  How you feeling?" he asked.

"Ugh, like a truck hit me, but in a good way," she laughed.  Margo
still hadn't moved.

"Glad to hear it," he chuckled.  "Listen, would you call down for room
service while I dress?  Just dial `0' and ask for breakfast for three
plus coffee."

While Alan was in the next room checking the messages on his cell
phone and calling his attorney in New York out of her earshot, Lisa
picked up the phone.  To her annoyance she was placed on hold, and
while she waited she began rubbing her fingers across the tatty velvet
lining of the steel box open on then nightstand next to the king sized
bed.  Without realizing what she was doing she started to peel the
material away from the inner hull of the box, and it wasn't until Alan
had reentered the bedroom that she realized she had completely removed
it.

"Sorry about your box," she said sheepishly.

Alan played it cool, though he was a little pissed off.  He walked
over to her side of the bed and assessed the damage.  Still playing it
cool he made no reaction upon seeing what Lisa had revealed through
the force of her habit.  At the bottom of the box he saw a depression
in the steel, circular, and to his eye the exact diameter of the rings
her wore on each hand.  "Holy shit! he thought.  Margo was waking, and
she and Lisa needed little convincing of the need for showers.  Though
they considered having it together, in the end the opted to use
separate bathrooms.  With them out of the room Alan practically yanked
off Massimo's ring and gingerly fit it into the depression in the box.
 Nothing.  He tried his own.  Nothing.  He rang up Neil and told him
of the new development, and they discussed it briefly.  Hiding his
disappointment as the girls returned he sealed the box and put it on a
shelf in the closet.  The breakfast came, coffee, rolls and butter
with little pots of fresh warm jam, and fruit, and the three of them
inhaled it, ringing down again for another round of coffee.

Reluctantly the Lisa and Margo dressed in yesterday's clothes.  Alan
had the concierge arrange for a car, and the three of them motored
over to the youth hostel, where the two ladies changed their clothes. 
Margo needed to remove her contact, not having the opportunity the
night prior, and she came back downstairs wearing a fetching pair of
tortoise shelled glasses.  Both of them were also donning large
backpacks.

"Checking out?" Alan asked, a smile beginning to form.

The two of them were taken aback.

"We didn't assume, or anything," Margo blurted.

"I just thought," Lisa said at the same time.

"No problem, no problem. We'll take the car back to my hotel and leave
your stuff," he assured them, and they let out massive sighs of
relief.

They decided to keep the car for the day, and the driver took them to
Versailles.  Karick and Neil were due back in a couple of days, and
Neil had mentioned on the phone that morning some things they might
try with the ring and the box..

Next Chapter: Resurrecting Jack (part 3)

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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