0 comments/ 29177 views/ 5 favorites Sinful Pleasure By: susimol_2000 In an earlier narrative of mine, I had described how my friend Rajan had a torrid, illicit affair with a housemaid Padma, who as a result of their adulterous relationship, bore a child sired by him. This affair with the housemaid sharpened and enhanced Rajan's sexual prowess making him an expert at lovemaking and whetted his appetite for sex with women other than his wife. As luck would have it, he was transferred to Pune by his company. Pune is a large town in Western India. He spent a hectic and frustrating six initial months, shuttling between ill kept rooming houses. As the weeks passed by, Rajan had no opportunity of meeting or getting to know any woman owing to his extremely long hours of work. The office in Pune was a drab, all male outfit. Being in charge did not help his social life either because of increased responsibility. He had to tour the nearby villages and towns often to assist his sales personnel aggressively promote the products of his company. At the end of six sterile months, he finally got what eventually turned out to be the most pleasurable opportunity of his lifetime. As I mentioned earlier, Rajan was not very happy with his living conditions making him shift a number of times. Finally, his stenographer Das, a kindly old man, suggested the name of a good guest house run by an elderly couple in a quiet area of town. He took Rajan there and introduced him to the couple running it - a Mr. & Mrs. Joglekar. They were a sweet old couple, both from Maharashtra ( a province in Western India ) and had been running the place for the past six years. Rajan found the rooms to be clean , comfortably though not expensively furnished, and just right for him. Convinced that this was exactly the place he was looking for and finding that the rent charged was reasonable, with breakfast included, he paid his advance and moved in the following week. Rajan found his new surroundings a very pleasant change from his earlier experiences in Pune. His room was comfortable and the other inmates were a very decent lot. He also discovered that the place had a receptionist - a fleshy woman in her late thirties with wide hips and a heavy bosom. An average looker, her name was Mrs. Shakila Ahmed. She was a widow and had been working there for sometime. Quite fair in complexion, she always covered her head with a scarf being a Muslim lady. Rajan's eyes were drawn to the thrusting large mounds of her bust, like pins to a magnet, every time he passed by or spoke to her. Unfortunately he could not make much headway since he seldom had occasion to talk to her and whenever they did speak she was formal and correct although very pleasant. Late on a Saturday afternoon, Rajan, feeling rather bushed by his work in office, decided to return early and take rest in his room. He got back to his lodgings and stopped at the reception to get his key when he noticed that Shakila's eyes were moist and red from weeping. He enquired solicitously, "What's the matter Mrs.Ahmed? Why have you been crying?" "No no. Nothing's wrong," she said in a muffled, tearful tone. Rajan made a quick decision thinking, it was now or never. "Look Mrs.Ahmed, why don't we just go out for a cup of coffee. You look terribly upset and it will do you a world of good to talk things over with someone. There's a coffee shop close by; let's go out there, have a chat over a cup of coffee and we can be back soon. Just let Mrs.Joglekar know that you will be away for an hour." She hesitated and then looking at his face, full of sympathy, she haltingly asked, "Do you think she will agree, Mr.Rajan?" "Of course she will. Go on, just phone her and tell her. I'll wait outside," he replied. They walked to the coffee shop and sat down. Over their coffee he asked Shakila about herself. He appeared so considerate and nice that she started telling him about herself. She was from Agra, a town in the large North Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. Her father was in the Railways - a middle ranking officer and she, along with her two sisters, both elder to her, studied in the city of Agra, famous for the Taj Mahal. She was fairly well educated, having done her graduation in History. Soon after, she got married to a businessman, a match arranged by her parents. Her husband unfortunately turned out to be a sickly man, crude and narrow minded who wanted her to hide herself behind a veil and stay at home. They had a child, a girl who was now in High School, studying in a residential school at Bombay. A few years after she got married, her husband whose business was floundering, committed suicide leaving behind virtually nothing. Her parents had died by then and she had never been attached to her sisters anyway. The young widow had to take up a job to maintain herself and her daughter. She found a job as a typist in a small textile mill in Bombay and for a while things were all right. Unfortunately, some months later, the mill folded up and she had to hunt around for another job. A colleague mentioned about the guest house in Pune and the possibility of an opening for a receptionist. She came down to Pune and managed to get the job. Her daughter was doing fairly at school and wanted to pursue higher studies in college. Shakila was finding it very hard to meet the expenses and that afternoon she was feeling particularly despondent. Rajan listened to her sympathetically and told her something about himself. At the end of an hour when they got up to return he said, "Mrs.Ahmed, if you promise not to get annoyed or embarrassed, may I say something?" She looked up in surprise and replied, "Of course." Rajan then said that he would like to help Shakila's daughter financially to pursue her studies since she was a good student. Being a very persuasive and friendly person he managed to overcome her hesitation. The moment she hesitatingly agreed he thought, "Ah! That's a sound investment for a good time for the rest of my stint in Pune." There was nothing crude or hasty about Rajan's methods. He bided his time developing the intimacy with Shakila, not making any clumsy moves. Inwardly he was feeling impatient, busily forming plans for a new sexual conquest. A fortnight later, the cook at the rooming house fell ill and the residents had to eat out for a few days. During this period, a general strike for a day was called by one of the political parties and all shops and restaurants were closed. Rajan had a light snack in his room for breakfast. He wondered what he could do for lunch and decided to walk across to Shakila's house which was some distance away. She had not come for work due to the strike. Reaching her house he rang the bell and waited. A few moments later the door opened and Shakila stood there in a housecoat. She looked flustered seeing him. "For a moment I did not recognise you. You look so different in a housecoat," he said. "What a surprise Mr.Rajan! Do come in." He went inside and found himself in a small drawing room, simply furnished and neatly kept. "Do sit down Mr.Rajan. Let me get you a cold drink. It must have been a hot walk." "Thank you. The drink will be welcome. And yes it certainly was a hot walk," he said. "And in more ways than one my dear if only you knew my feelings about you," he thought. She came carrying the drink a few minutes later. "You must be having a problem for your food. Are any restaurants open?" "No," he smiled. "I thought I could barge in here to keep the hunger pangs away." "Of course Mr.Rajan. It will be a pleasure having you for lunch." "And if I have my way, for dinner and breakfast as well my dear," he thought. "Will you excuse me for sometime while I make lunch? Please switch on the TV and make yourself comfortable Mr.Rajan." He grinned boyishly and said, "Look can we dispense with being formal? Please call me Rajan. I feel uncomfortable when you add the prefix. And may I call you Shakila?" "Of course Mr… sorry… Rajan." Rajan put on the TV, surfing channels while his mind was on Shakila and her seasoned, fleshy body which was like a ripe fruit. He was determined to have the fruit that very day. After she prepared the meal, she came back into the drawing room and they talked for sometime, about her daughter and her studies. He asked her about what she did after work and they found some common interests….. in Hindi movies and music. Being a fair singer, he hummed a few lines of a popular song. "You do sing fairly well Rajan." "I am a fair bathroom singer, Lady." They both laughed. Lunch was a pleasant meal. After lunch, when Shakila went into the kitchen to clean up, Rajan followed ostensibly to help clean the dirty dishes, ignoring her protest,s saying he wanted to help out. The kitchen was tiny and they kept bumping into each other while they cleaned up. Crimson with embarrassment she blurted, "Rajan, it's too small a kitchen for two of us to move around." "Don't you find it cosier," he grinned mischievously. "I really like the intimacy Shakila." She blushed. Rajan, with his heart thumping thought that it was time to seize the opportunity, He drew her close to him and whispered into her ear, "You are such a desirable lady my dear. Even a saint would lose his self control in close proximity with you." "This is not right Rrrr…aajan," she murmured. Rajan could see her weakening as it was obvious that close proximity to a male after so many barren years was doing the trick. He decided to go ahead swiftly as he felt the time was ripe and kissed her full on the mouth, very gently at first. Instinctively she tried pulling away but he held her tight with his mouth firmly on her's. His tongue slowly caressed her closed lips on the outside and then gently pried them open. The moment her lips opened up on his tongue's pressure, it darted inside flicking around expertly, seeking the hidden recesses in her delicious mouth. His tongue duelled with her's, rolling and entwining. All her resistance slipped away and she felt weak in her legs. They kissed passionately for what seemed an eternity. Suddenly he sank to his knees embracing her waist and started nuzzling her navel. Although her housecoat was on, the material was very thing and his tender ministrations started really getting her excited. He put his head under the housecoat, lifted her tight panty and rubbed his face against her thick pubic hair. Moving his mouth to her love den he placed his lips on her thick labia. She shuddered, emitting tiny, shrill cries. A long kiss on the outer lips was followed by his tongue probing it's way into her vagina. Her womanly perfume assailed his nostrils getting his already swollen and erect member, throbbing in anticipation of it's onslaught on her citadel. He played his tongue around expertly arousing her passions further, licking her sticky nectar. Suddenly she appeared to go mad, tearing at his trousers, trying to yank them off. The moment she got them off his body, she pulled his underwear down and took his bulging organ fully into her mouth, sucking on it violently almost trying to swallow it entirely. So forceful was her sucking that in a few moments he felt himself on the verge of coming. Not wanting to waste his precious load in her mouth, he caught her head and with difficulty pulled her off. Making her disrobe completely he led her to the settee in the drawing room, jumped out of his clothes and made a beeline for her delectable, ample breasts. Fastening his mouth on the large, hard left nipple, which was dark with passion, he started sucking it noisily and greedily, biting the tip and again drawing on it hard. Rajan always had a fetish for sucking breasts and Shakila's meaty ones with their huge dark nipples made him uncontrollable as he had his fill of them voraciously sucking and chewing. This barbarous mauling of her breasts made her thrash around in extreme pleasure and pain driving her to an orgasm. "Aaa…hhhh!! Please, please, I am dying. Stop pleee… ase!!!" she screamed. He ignored her pleas and moved his mouth to her love cave, hot and wet with lust. Pulling himself up after briefly kissing her pussy, he took his huge, pulsating shaft in his hand and arching himself above her body, placed it at the opening of her oozing, hot cavern. It slowly parted the heavy lids of her portal and the bulbous head scarlet with lust entered her. The slimy, thick secretions of her cunt coated his member, assisting it's penetration to some extent. But years of inaction, sexually, had made her tight. However the time for niceties was over and the caveman in Rajan rook over. All he wanted to do was to plant his seed deep into the womb of this luscious woman. A brutally violent thrust and he was deep inside her. She shrieked in agony and ecstasy, whimpering to him -- to be gentle one moment and then asking him to take her harder the next. A few more powerful thrusts and wriggles and he was as deep inside as he could possibly be. He stopped moving keeping his cock buried to the hilt. It required all his will power to stop erupting. Slowly her started toying with her battered nipples again with his mouth. Taking turns at both breasts, drawing hard, he started thrusting again gradually building up the tempo. Receiving his thrusts and moving in unison, Shakila felt herself moving into Paradise. She could hardly comprehend what this delightful lover was doing to her thirsty body. Never had she experienced anything remotely like this and she wanted him to go on and on. His mouth fastened on her's stifling her screams of rapture as he pounded harder and harder going absolutely berserk in her cunt. He appeared insatiable as he thudded into her endlessly. And then she experienced it ……. total and the most indescribable bliss, as she had her violent, convulsive climax in unison with his copious, gushing discharge. She could almost feel the taste of his thick, syrupy semen, such was the completeness of their union. Gradually their bodies relaxed and they lay holding each other basking in the glow of satisfaction that enveloped them in the aftermath of such a ferocious bout of lovemaking. Rajan continued to be in Pune for another year and a half during which they experimented and enjoyed their frequent sex sessions. Their relationship deepened and continues even today, as he financed her daughter's higher education. Although he has since been transferred back to his hometown and family, he keeps making clandestine visits to Pune as often as possible without his wife's knowledge. Such is the magic of Shakila's body for him that he never tires of fucking her. Mail me with your comments. Sinful Pleasure on a Rainy Night A muttered curse bounced off the interior walls of the SUV. Gail Steelport took a deep breath, hit the steering wheel of her 2000 Suburban, and let another vile explanative fall from her usually smiling lips. The gauge didn't lie, and neither did the sound of an engine trying to turn over, but failing to do so. Gail looked around; her headlights aided her in determining that she had pulled off to the side of the road, far enough that no one -- who was paying attention -- would run into her. Rain pelted the window, as Gail dug through her purse. "God damn, it!" she hissed; her son had not replaced her cell phone when she'd loaned it to him earlier that morning. Gail leaned her head on the steering wheel; her hands gripped the worn leather, her knuckles were white with frustration and rage. After several calming breaths, she leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes and tried to remember how far back the last house had been, or how far ahead the next one was. "Too far," she whispered. An hour passed, the rain continued to fall in hard fast sheets; only one car had gone down the county road, and it only slowed down to ogle the unfortunate fool stuck out in the storm. Gail had fired off a round of curses to their taillights as they'd grown dim. For the past hour, she'd listened to her MP3 player, toyed with her hair, braiding it -- unbraiding it, she'd sung songs that made no sense, shed a few frustrated tears, and cursed the day she'd given birth to such an inconsiderate child. Just as quickly as she'd cursed her son, she'd taken the words back, recalling how he'd made her smile that morning. A homemade birthday cake, marking her 38th year and been presented to her along with a warm smile and gentle hug. Gail shifted in her seat, pulled her jacket in closer around her, pressed the door lock button for the hundredth time and settled down to take a nap. She'd walk, once the rain eased up, or run -- either way she'd have to do something because it didn't look like any good Samaritans were out and about on this stormy night. ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ The invasion of bright lights brought Gail out of her deep slumber. She rubbed her eyes, the tip of her nose, pushed her curly locks away from her face and sat up. Immediately she blinked rapidly, trying to clear the floating dots in front of her eyes. She lifted her hand into the air, warding off the invading illumination. Her stomach rolled violently as the red and blue police lights swirled. "Calm down," she told herself. She never was one to be comfortable around a police officer. She wasn't a criminal and had only gotten a few traffic violations on her record, but she -- like many -- just got uneasy with a man in uniform and a gun attached to his hip. Two shadowy figures temporarily blocked the headlamps of the police car. Gail bit her lip, turned the ignition on, just enough to power up the battery. She pressed the window down button, as soon as one of the officers were close enough that he could block most of the rain. The other, she quickly noted was running his flashlight through the windows of her vehicle, noting if there were any other passengers besides herself. Gail's insides churned, she gripped the wheel and leaned toward the officer who had barely moved the flashlight's gleam out of her eyes. He too leaned in, bending so that his face and hers almost touched. Reflectively Gail shrank back. "I ran out of gas and I don't have my cell on me," she quickly explained. The officer said nothing, just ran his light across the front seat, down Gail's body, noting where things were in the vehicle, and then back along the SUV's remaining doors, and interior. "Well, come on over to the patrol car and we'll see what we can do." Gail sighed with relief, grabbed her purse, and instinctively her keys. She locked the doors, and hurried alongside the police officer that had spoken to her. He opened the back door, ushered Gail in, before he darted to the front passenger door and sought his own refuge from the storm. The two men removed their hats, while one flicked on the interior lights, illuminating the three of them. "Out of gas," the one officer told the other. Gail, made note of the two men; the one who had spoken to her, was older than the driver. He had thick red hair, with a few strands of white, his face was freckled, his eyes looked to be green, but Gail really wasn't sure. The other, a younger man by perhaps ten years, maybe a few more, had dark black hair, it curled around his collar and his eyes were also dark, almost black. Gail smiled to herself, under different circumstances she would have been more than happy to engage in light banter with either of them, and had they different occupations she'd have considered flirting too. "No phone?" the younger officer asked, his question directed at either Gail or his partner. "I loaned it to my son," Gail answered "Ah, teenagers and responsibility, I guess you weren't aware that they're allergic to each other," the older police officer chuckled. "My daughters were often making me curse their existence." "Yeah, my parents had a hard time with me too," Phil commented. "Where do you live and we'll get you home, Miss --." Gail smiled at the older gentleman. "Gail Steelport and I don't think you want to take me home, maybe to the nearest gas station or something, but -- well I live a couple hours away. My son is at his dad's this weekend, so I decided to visit a friend. She lives about four hours from me. I had an early morning birthday party with my son, gave him a kiss goodbye, and then took off to visit with her, only to get there and find out that she wasn't home -- seems she'd forgotten and had taken off for the weekend to visit her family in Detroit. So, I hung around the city, did some shopping and well -- now I'm here." "Phil and I are off the clock, and we were on our way out to my cabin, on Long Lake, how close are you to there? I'm Sergeant David, by the way -- David Clarke, and this is Lieutenant Phil Pitchford." Phil nodded his head, started the car's engine and pulled back onto the road. He paused at the SUV. "Do you need anything out of there?" he asked, his gaze locking temporarily with Gail's. She chewed on her lower lip, trying to decide if anything she'd bought was worth running back into the rain for. "Go grab those shopping bags we saw when we ran the flashlights through her truck," David quickly ordered; Phil jumped to do his bidding. "I could tell you were thinking real hard on leaving stuff behind or not, they'd be safe, but just the same -- is it locked?" David asked, interrupting his own sentence. Gail noted Phil standing in the rain by the door, looking back at her. "Oh crap, I forgot." She dug into her pocket, pulled the keys free, pressed the designated button and watched as the officer leaned into the back of the SUV, gathered her belongings and hurried back to the car. He opened her door, pushed her bags in and dashed back to the Suburban to close its door. She pushed the lock button on her key fob. Embarrassment at being a "bother" to the police officers caused her skin to take on a more heated flush. She pressed her cool palms to her cheeks, and apologized to Phil for being such a pain in the ass. He laughed, waved off her apologies, and resumed their trek down the road. Gail glanced back at her abandoned vehicle, making note -- as best she could -- where it would be when she made plans to retrieve it. "You know, if you wouldn't mind, and if you guys have a spare gas can in your car, then maybe a quick trip to the gas station would be all it'll take to get me going." Phil shrugged his shoulders. "It's up to him," he nodded his head to the Sergeant. "But if you're close to the lake, we may as well take you home; the next filling station is several miles in the opposite direction. You're vehicle will be fine. I'll put a call in to dispatch and let them know what's going on." Gail smiled; she really didn't want to mess with the SUV any more tonight. The thought of being at home, relaxing in her tub, snuggled up in her blankets, reading a good book -- all of these things were so much more on her priority list right now than her truck. "Okay, home it is. I live about 45 minutes from the lake, and --." "Hell Phil, I just remembered, Lucy's gonna call the cabin in a bit," David turned to look back at Gail, "My daughter's supposed to be landing at O'Hare and I told her to call the lake house. We'll need to stop there first, and then I or Phil will take you home." "That's fine," Gail agreed, "I hate being a bother already, there is no way I'll keep you from your daughter." David smiled, glanced at Phil, turned back around and settled back into his seat. The drive for Gail seemed to take forever, granted she knew it wasn't the two men in general that had made it a long drive, it was the lateness of the hour, the weariness of the evening's fretting activities, her mind traveling in a million different directions. David and Phil had both been more than willing to keep her engaged in their conversations. She learned that David had two daughters, he was widowed, and had been on the force "far too long" and Phil was single, no children, and currently between girlfriends -- though he had joked dating either one of Sergeant Clarke's daughters would be something he'd consider. This had earned the Lieutenant a sharp slap to the back of his head. Gail had chuckled, and both men had complimented her on her laugh. This had led to a blush, a timid thank-you and then what Gail could only describe as awkward silence. Gail's interest in her surroundings peeked up when she noted the turn they'd made. The road quickly became rough gravel and the trees seemed to grow denser around them. She sat up and looked out her window. The rain had eased up considerably. A few lights twinkled through the trees, some reflecting off the water. "Long Lake?" she asked. "Yep," David answered. "I inherited this patch of land and the cabin, as well as a couple outbuildings back when my dad passed, and he got it from his dad and so on -- four generations deep." "Nice," Gail responded, as she watched the headlights illuminate the path before them. Phil took another turn, then another before pressing deeper into the woods. "I bet this place would sell for a fortune," she commented, more to herself than her chauffeurs. "You're into real estate?" Phil asked. She grinned big. "Yes, I am. I just got my license, so I'm anxious to sell something," she glanced at David, "but don't worry, I won't even try to pitch my idea to you." The two men chuckled. Gail settled back into her seat and soon caught sight of the lake cabin that David was so proud of. It was small, homey and looked as if it had been cherished. One of the outbuildings had a motion sensor light attached to it, and when Phil pulled up, the car triggered it. A light flickered on, beaming rays into the night, allowing the porch as well as a small section of the yard to glow. Gail took in a few details that could be made out with the added illumination. A porch swing, a flower pot, several piles of stacked wood, even a bird feeder seemed to welcome the small entourage into the promising warmth of the cabin. "Let's go; the storm seems to be moving on, so maybe we can get in there, warm up a bit, before heading back out," David said, before opening his door, and making his way to Gail's. She waited, and took the offered hand that David put to her. Her fingers curled around his; she noted the warmth, as well as the small sliver of excitement that seemed to skate along her skin. Gail shivered. "Better get her inside. She's freezing," Phil commented. He locked the car and hurried toward the cabin. David and Gail were quick to follow. "Here," David edged Gail over to Phil, "keep her warm, while I find the damn keys." Phil gently took both of Gail's arms and pulled her to him. He pressed her against his chest. She shivered again. His jacket was damp, but the moisture was lost to her. All she felt was searing heat as his fingers held her arms and her back pressed into him. "You are a cold one, aren't you?" Phil whispered in her ear. She gently trembled again. His warm breath danced across her damp curls. A whimper escaped her lips; Gail decided to play along with being cold, instead of admitting to herself that the two men had stirred an ember inside her that was threatening to explode. "Here we go." David pushed the cabin door open, reached in and flicked on the light switch. Immediately not only the porch light came on, but so did the cabin's living room and kitchen. "I had the electricity installed the first summer after my father's death. He loved roughing it; don't get me wrong, I do to, but well -- I like modern amenities as well." "I'm sure Miss Steelport appreciates you having running water and power, but you still haven't broken down and installed the heating or cooling unit. I'll build up a fire, Miss Steelport - - ." "Gail -- please call me Gail." Lieutenant Pitchford smiled. "Gail, the bathroom is down the hall to the right. I'll get a fire going and," he paused, thought a moment then shrugged his head toward outside, "those bags have any clothes in them? Yours are still damp and I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in something dry." Gail laughed. "Of course there are clothes in there, I'm a woman, I'd been shopping, and it was my birthday -- so believe me, there are a lot of clothes out there." Phil chuckled, as did David. "I'll go grab them, you get the fire going," David said. He darted back outside, while Gail headed to the bathroom, and Phil readied the fireplace. Gail shut the bathroom door behind her, quickly peeled off her wet shoes, soaked socks, and damp jeans. She shimmed out of her panties, eyed the commode and quickly took care of her personal needs before pulling off her blouse and her bra. The sound of the two men shuffling around the cabin made her self-conscious of her naked, chilled state. A thick plush towel hung on a wooden bar. She grabbed it wrapped it around herself, and opened the bathroom door. "Um... do you have those bags?" she called down the hall. "Yeah, anything particular you want?" a man's voice answered back. She heard footsteps coming closer, peeked out again and welcomed David with a shy grin. "There's a Macy's bag, it has a few things, and then the one from L.L. Bean will have a few things as well," she said. "Okay," said David, he turned to leave then stopped when Gail added -- "oh, and the one from Victoria's Secret." She blushed when the older man turned back to look at her, his lips were lifted in a smirk, and his eyes carried a touch of humor. "Okay," he said, this time more jovial than before. Gail giggled, and shut the door, leaving her knights in shining armor to their own devices. She heard the phone ring, and knew David's daughter had most likely called. The shower seemed to call out to her, its water promising to completely remove the chill that was rooted in her bones. Her skin was hot, her face flushed, but the heat of the two men's touch could not penetrate the frozen temperature of rain soaked clothes. Gail knew without asking that David wouldn't mind her showering while he took his call. The towel was returned to the bar, and steam soon filled the small room's interior. Gail slipped in behind the curtain and let the water fall in satiny sheets. Her hands roamed through her thick brown curls; she lifted them, making sure the heat soaked through to her scalp. Goosebumps slowly began to disappear as her skin and bones became a more normal temperature. Gail pushed the water from her face, looked around and noticed the absence of shampoo. "Well, damn." "Looking for this?" Gail squeaked, and pulled the curtain aside. Her eyes fell on Phil's grinning features. In one hand he held a towel, in the other a bottle of shampoo. "I didn't hear you knock?" she admitted before taking the shampoo. Phil shrugged. "I may not have knocked loud enough." "I guess not. You don't think David's gonna mind me being in here? Is he?" The Lieutenant laughed. "A naked woman, who is single and sexy as Hell -- in his shower -- um, no, the Sergeant won't mind at all." Gail grinned. "Sexy as Hell?" She noted Phil's demeanor change. Her eyes blinked several times, she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "Yes, sexy as Hell," Phil repeated the words. His gaze locked and held with hers. "Thank-you," she whispered before closing the curtain and standing silently behind the thin plastic shield. "Um, do you mind -- I need to..." Phil's discomfort was apparent in his words. "Oh, no, go ahead, just well -- warn me before you flush." The officer chuckled. Gail tried to think of her hair, shampoo and bubbles, while the sound of Phil relieving his self added to the noise of the shower's running water. Eventually, his warning came, followed by the sound of the sink running. The muffled shuffling of his feet and the quiet "sorry for the interruption, thanks and goodbye" confirmed that he was taking his leaves of her. Gail was slightly mortified by being caught in a man's shower, without permission, as well as having to listen to another man taking care of his own intimate needs. She quickly finished washing her hair, and rinsing away the soap. The thought of looking for conditioner didn't even cross her mind. She made a quick check of her surroundings, shut the water off and hurriedly began to rub herself dry. A quick tap on the door brought her up short. Gail's gaze shot to the door handle. She watched it turn. Quickly she grabbed it, and pulled it open just enough to peek around it. David stood with a pile of clothes. "I hope you don't mind, I went through the bags, and picked out a few things," he said. "I'm sure they'll be fine. Thanks," she said, before grabbing the items and tucking herself back behind the safety of the door. What was happening to her? She asked herself. The two men had done nothing untoward to her and they hadn't really done anything to say they wanted to either. Both had been gentlemen, and both had bent over backwards to help her. Even now, if she were to admit to herself, she was liking the attention, but really she was behaving like a virgin school girl trapped in the woods with two woman eating he-mans. Gail shook off her concerns and picked through the clothes David had brought. He'd brought her a pink sweater, a white tank top, as well as a white skirt. She blushed when she came across the matching bra and thong set as well as the stockings, and garters. "Funny," she giggled, shook her head in amusement and again chastised herself for the fluttering butterflies that showed up in her stomach. Another knock on the door, brought her out of her musings. The knob turned and a hand snuck through. "David said, you'd need these too." Phil's hand held a pair of white stilettos with shimmering rhinestones. "Oh did he?" Gail laughed softly, "I just bet he did." She took the shoes and pushed the door shut. "No more interruptions!" she called out in a humorous voice. A soft chuckle answered her before the sound of retreating footsteps told her she was again alone. Gail took a deep breath, eyed the clothes with suspicion and then proceeded to dry her hair with another towel. Her long brown locks, hung in thick curls down her back. She'd done well in getting most of the water out, and was quite pleased with her appearance. The flirtatious thoughts she had surrounding the two men had brought a color to her cheeks and lips that had been drained earlier by the circumstances surrounding her. Now though, not only her face seemed more joyous, but so did her eyes. A flicker of mischievousness, she hadn't seen since her divorce reared itself up and made her lick her lips in anticipation -- anticipation for what, Gail really didn't know.