0 comments/ 19659 views/ 2 favorites Jumping Bean Productions By: pocketrocket Two attractive, and mostly naked college freshmen were having a blast. They were on a drop cloth in an old high school gym. Paint was everywhere. It was on the drop cloth, on the ladders, but mostly on them. Angie had tubes of art paint in each hand. Gretchen had just given up her brush and had grabbed the whole bucket of house paint. Before the inevitable happened… "Cut. Girls this isn't supposed to be about paint fights. This is supposed to be about SEX. And don't make such a big mess to clean up." The camera pans across to a young Hispanic man, hiding in the seats near the rafters. His eyes are huge as he stares at the scene below him. "Cut. Cut and wrap. Beautiful transition John. Call it a day girls, we go to work at the hotel tomorrow." It had all gone differently 40 years earlier in 1962. * * * * Two attractive, and mostly naked college juniors were having a blast. They were on a drop cloth in an old high school gym. Paint was everywhere. It was on the drop cloth, on the ladders, but mostly on them. Angie had tubes of art paint in each hand. Gretchen had just given up her brush and had grabbed the whole bucket of house paint. Before the inevitable happened… "Cut. CUT. CUUUTTT!!!! Girls this isn't supposed to be about bloody paint fights. This is supposed to be about bleeding SEX. And don't make such a bloody big mess to clean up." "Well fuck you Asshole. If you can't make LIFE into ART, then maybe you're not such a big shot ARTIST. HUH? If your brain was half as big as you think your prick is, you'd…" Pedro did not want to hear the rest. He had been hearing it all day already. He could not believe the coarseness of the language from such chica linda, pretty girls. Why were they doing this? What did they say during confession? What would he say to his priest? Pedro Miguel Rodriguez Santos de la Garza had come to New York from Puerto Rico to get away from the bullies and the bribery of the sugar plantations. It had never occurred to him that there were bullies in America as well, not to mention higher prices and prejudices against Puerto Ricans. He had seen West Side Story 12 times, even paying once. He loved Maria and the music, but he had no illusions that it was real. Pedro had seen the West Side and run from it. Part of Pedro's problem was his size: 5'6" and slightly built. At 18, almost 19, but could pass for 15 if need be. He shaved only once a week. His classic Latin features and hair that women would kill or die for had only added to the problem. Everyone was bigger, stronger, more capable, and resented that he was smarter and better looking. Life had already chased him off two islands to an abandoned school gym in Brooklyn and a day job washing dishes for 15 cents an hour and a meal. He had saved $10 and felt like a rich man. Then a British wannabe named Niles had brought a porn film crew into his home and upset the life he had managed to scrape together. Pedro wanted to leave, but he was fascinated by all the fuss. Movies were his favorite American thing after bratwurst. Besides, he suddenly had runing water. To say he was a virgin would be an understatement. He had never kissed a girl over the age of 10, save his aunts and mother. He had had no idea how girls are different than boys til Niles' naked scenery had opened a new world to him. He did not know where to go next, but he knew he would follow wherever the girls went, for as long as they were near. Suddenly, Pedro realized that he was boxed in. The fight was coming down the corridor toward him and there was no more corridor to run to. He tried doors until one opened. He ducked inside. Bad move. It was the locker room. The door from the gym had a broken lock, but this one opened. Had he been thinking, he would have known that they would come straight toward him. There was no where left to go, so Pedro crouched at the end on a bench and hoped for the best. It was all moot. Flashing lights would not have made a difference. Niles and the two girls stopped right in front of him, while the blonde girl, Gretchen, screamed at Niles. Angie, the dark haired girl, was crying. Niles swung a slap at Gretchen, which she ducked and counter punched him in the midriff. Pedro had lost enough fights to appreciate the move. Niles, really angry now, was loading a heavy fist when Pedro, to his own total surprise, hit him shoulder to kidneys. The fight got serious for a few seconds. It ended as it always ended. Niles was standing, rubbing a split lip with the back of his hand, while Pedro lay with his back against a row of lockers and blood running out the back of his head. For a moment Niles looked ready to kick Pedro in the face, but decided to laugh it off. "There's your hero, girls. Let him get you home." At which he turned on heel and left. Gretchen shouted obscenities after him while Angie picked Pedro's head up and cradled it under her breasts. Pedro looked up at her and said, "Angela. Angelina mia." Then he passed out. "Gretchen. Gretchen, he's hurt. Help me." "This cut doesn't look to bad. His hair saved him when he hit the locker. We need to wash it out though. Help me get him in the shower. He needs it anyway." They dragged him the few feet to the shower, and threw water on his face. When he was awake enough to stand, Gretchen shoved him under the hot water. "Gretchen, he's getting soaked." "So. They need a washing anyway. Smell that. Let's get them off." Pedro made a halfhearted protest when they pulled off the shirt. But Angela smiled at him and that was enough. Gretchen stooped to pull down the oversized work pants, so she got a front row view when his prick came into view. Pedro was small. Pedrito could stand with anyone in the family. Gretchen took one look and all the fun, games and fighting of the last hour became foreplay. She dropped his sopping pants to the floor and reached for a bar of soap. She loved to lick cock, but not unwashed, uncircumcised cock. She put expert hands to the job. Pedro knew he had been hurt, that he had been hit in the head. But the water felt wonderful, his Angela had smiled at him, and Pedrito had never felt like this under his blanket. He smiled, closed his eyes and let it come. "Gretchen, what are you doing?" "I'm washing his cock. What does it look like I'm doing." She was actually washing his whole groin area, his thighs, and up the crack of his ass. "I am not going to suck and fuck a dirty cock and he's dirty, period." She turned him around to wash the suds off, then moved him back so she could play his flute while the water ran down her back. Angela lathered herself up while she watched Gretchen work. Round and round the swollen purple head went Gretchen, while Angela washed the drying paint off her arms. Down the front of the shaft Gretchen went to the scrotal sack, while Angela washed off her legs. Gretchen tickled Pedro's balls and nibbled the throat of his prick, while Angela washed her breasts and belly. Growing more excited, Gretchen started pumping Pedrito with her lips, while her hands found her waiting slit. Angela had lathered her Venus Mons, but abandoned the soap for more direct methods. Pedro's head had been swimming, but the rush of blood both waked him and knocked him in a completely new direction. Angela came seconds before Pedro spurted his relief into Gratchen's mouth. Naturally Gretchen had to spoil the moment. "You sure taste different than American boys." "Gretchen! What a thing to say." "It's true. His cum tastes different." Pedro was unsure exactly what they were saying, but he could tell they were talking about him. He finally noticed he was naked and alone with two naked women. Pedro had never seen his sister naked, much less this close. His hands went to cover himself. "Look Angela. He's embarrassed. That is so cute." "Gretchen, leave him alone. I think he is cute." "Well yes he is cute. I'd like to take him home." "Oh Gretchen, be serious. They don't allow men anywhere near our hotel. That's why our mothers sent us there." "I am serious now that I think about it. He can't stay here. Niles is sure to send someone back to make sure he's gone. Besides we can get him in. He's no taller than I am and he's got fine features. And look at that hair. I'd kill for that hair. Let's get him washed. Between the two of us, we can get him dressed." So it began. Angela contributed garters, stockings and a comb for the hair. Gretchen gave up a bra and dress. Gretchen always kept a spare outfit stashed somewhere handy. Neither had shoes that fit, but they could just get Gretchen's flats on, which made Gretchen grumble about wearing heels all the way up town. The make up was more troublesome since Pedro did not want any. In his village only whores wore makeup. In fact the whole idea of a dress was starting to bother him. Angela took his face in her hands and said, "Para mio?" "Ah. Si. Para Angela mia. Si." "That's nice. He calls me his angel." "It is your name." "He doesn't know that." To Pedro, "My name is 'Angela'" "Si. Angela mia es angela verdad." "No. No. Her name is Gretchen. My name is Angela. What is your name?" "Ah. Si. Gretchen. Angela. Pedro. Pedro Miguel Rodriguez Santos de la Garza." "Well now you are Patricia. Can you say Patricia?" "Patricia?" "Good. Now Patricia, do you have any money for cab fare? Dinero?" When they arrived at the "Saint Evangelina Missionary Hotel for Women", better known as "Saint Evie's", Angela was worried about the forbidding desk matron, Miss Walker. Gretchen just marched Pedro right up to the desk. "Miss Walker. This is Patricia de la Garza. She's Puerto Rican and her boyfriend just through her out, so she has no place to stay. Plus she hit her head. Poor thing. Can she have permission to stay for a few days til she can find a place?" Miss Walker, she was 55 and still a Miss, had been an army nurse in France. She usually believed very little that the girls in her charge said to her, but Pedro's very real, and very fresh, bruises convinced her quite well. "She could have had a concussion with a bump like that, but she seems alert enough. When did it happen?" "Maybe two hours ago. I didn't see it all, but I saw her hit her head. She was pretty dizzy for a while, but Angela and I got her on her feet. I thought for a minute the guy would kick her in the face." "Such a pretty girl. Well she should not be left alone tonight. Is she going to sleep with you?" Angela had been looking the other way, so she was safe. She would forever after be impressed when Gretchen managed a straight face and even voice. "Actually Miss Walker, that's exactly what I had in mind." "Very good then Miss Schneider. Frankly I didn't think you capable of it." "Oh I'm full of surprises Miss Walker." Pedro did not know what to make of the Hotel. He knew that a large piece of the money he had painstakingly saved up over six months had gone to cab fair. He also knew a rich house when he saw one. It did not take him long to notice that only women went anywhere. Patricia. Mia nombre, no my name, is Patricia. Within minutes they were on the fifth floor, where Gretchen held court. She had been there two years and these were her girls. Of the seven, three had arrived virgins. Not one remained so by the end of the first week. Three were secretly on the pill. All carried condoms and diaphragms. Til this night, no one had ever managed to get a boy past Miss Walker. These were the makings of a party. "Girls. Gather round. This is our new friend Patricia, or, as his mother named him, Pedro." "Oh Gretch. She's not a he. She's too pretty." "He is. Besides would I lie about some thing like that. I might lie with some thing like that, but never about it. Plus I can prove it. But to business, we need clothes, girls, for Patricia, and make up. She's wearing Angela's. Mine is the wrong color. Let's go." Within five minutes Pedro, Patricia, was presented with clothes worth more than his rich uncles farm. He was thoroughly embarrassed to be dressed and undressed by so many women, particularly considering the way they were looking at him. He felt like a lamb being chosen for slaughter. But there was a mirror. A full length mirror, the like of which he had only heard of and never seen before. He was shocked at the transformation. In a riding outfit, he looked trim. In a tennis outfit, he looked athletic. In a day dress, he looked sweet. In a yellow formal, he looked breathtaking. Everything he was not in rough men's clothing, he turned into in expensive young women's wear. He fell in love with it all. He even fell in love with the shoes. At first he didn't understand them. When they put on the strapless formal and tied the hair back with a ribbon and clipped earrings on his ears, he thought he looked nice. But when they finally found a pair of pumps he could wear, forget the color, he was shocked at the transformation. He stood taller, straighter, his padded breasts stood higher. Had he seen himself in Puerto Rico two years before, he would have fallen madly in love. The party lasted til 2:00 AM. Miss Walker came up at 10:00 to break it up, but saw what was going on, and let it slide. The next day was Sunday, and church was at 10:30, so they could stay up a little later. Besides, she thought, keeping a concussion awake, if there was a concussion, was a good thing. With a "Don't tire her out dears.", Miss Walker turned in for the night. Pedro had been wearing only a terrycloth robe and makeup. Miss Walker never noticed anything out of the ordinary. At last the girls had drifted off in ones and twos and there was only Patricia, Angela and Gretchen. Angela, reading the writing on the wall, bent over and kissed him softly and passionately on the lips and went off to her room. Pedro watched her go and decided that however much he liked being Patricia, he would always be Pedro for her. Sex with Gretchen afterward was anticlimactic. Gretchen was tired and did not have her usual drive. Pedro was distracted and still quite inexperienced. They performed sufficiently to satisfy a legal standard and went to sleep, spooned together. Pedro thought, as sleep finally claimed him, that he could get used to this. *** Things went smoothly after that. In the morning he rose first and began to learn the intricacies of American plumbing. Shortly, there was a parade of mostly unclad female assistance and a lot of good natured fun. By the time Gretchen chose to come out, he was alone again, shaving. This led to their most companionable time together: shaving each other's legs. Pedro had to admit, in a side by side comparison, his legs were at least as good as hers, maybe better. He hoped Gretchen found a man soon, since her thick ankles promised thickness in other areas. Gretchen was soon dashing around, getting made up, for her tennis date. Pedro felt out of place in her room, so he put on a housecoat and went into the common area. Each floor had a library/study area, and a TV. In Puerto Rico, only the richest homes had television. In America everyone did. He watched a Mass, in Latin, which was heart achingly familiar. He watched part of a show with many angry men called "Meet the Press." Then he watched baseball. Then a movie. After an hour or so, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Angela. She motioned to him to come and he did. He expected some kind of sexual gesture, such as he had come to expect from Gretchen. Instead, she counted out the money he had spent on the taxi and kissed him on the cheek. She helped him choose an outfit from the many odds and ends he had received, helped him put on his makeup and led him outside. It was Sunday afternoon on the Upper East Side. People were about, seeing and being seen. Pedro felt naked from all the attention he received from men passing by. Patricia was evidently an attractive woman. Being Sunday, even in New York in the 1960s, most shops were closed. Angela led to one of the open ones. Before they went in, she pressed $20 into his hands and put her finger to his lips. Shocked by this fortune, he followed numbly into what proved to be a shoe store. Half an hour later they walked out with two pair of casual shoes, a pair of office girl heels and a general purpose handbag. Three shops, and the better part of $100 later, they had filled in the gaps in the clothing shower of the night before. Coming in the Saint Evies, Miss Walker looked up and nodded them through. Gretchen, she had her doubts about, but Angela Molinari was pure gold in her book. Look how she was showing that new girl how to accessorize. From her own pocket if Miss Walker was any judge. She picked up the phone. She had mentioned to some of the ladies at church that morning that there was a new girl staying for a few days. Charity case. Did not seem to have a cent, but the girls seemed to be rallying around her. In Miss Walker's rarely mistaken opinion, Patricia might be just the thing to build some character in a few of these wild girls. Within 10 minutes the arrangements had been made to move her into a soon to be vacant room, on the fifth floor. Meanwhile, Angela took Pedro to the fifth floor restroom. Pulling out the bags of cosmetics they had just purchased she patiently showed Pedro how to strip off the old and apply the new. At first Pedro found it a bit horrifying to become a painted street walker, but then it was only daring. After all, he thought, his Angela wore this "makeup", as did all the other girls in the house. Pedro did not know much, but he knew money when he saw it. So he paid patient attention to the lesson, and presently it made a little sense. He also noticed that the close presence of an attractive female was becoming very exciting. When he finally worked up the courage to make a fumbling gesture, Angela only smiled and shook her head. His English was not good, but he managed what "Not yet dear." meant. That was all right with him. He was patient. He would not have a long wait. Identical twins Candi and Brandi Dunworthy rolled in shortly before 4:00. To say that they were Gretchen's star pupils would be to say that they were inexperienced on arrival at St Evie's, which they were not. Gretchen had managed to widen the scope of their endeavors. More specifically, she taught them to include persons other than a sister. The concept of a penis had been completely new to them, as was the concept of a threesome. No one, else, had ever managed a one on one, not that there were any complaints. Suffice to say they learned well, and even managed to introduce Gretchen to some of the joys of switch hitting. On this particular Sunday, they had had an unsatisfactory day at doubles tennis, losing, and mixed doubles, fighting. Since neither of their mixed doubles partners was deemed suitable, they had come home in quite a funk. They were still arguing about a disputed line call when Brandi spied Pedro getting his makeup redone for the umpteenth time. Patricia looked absolutely stunning. Her past shoulder length hair was brushed out and back, framing his delicately boned face. Her naturally dark skin had just a touch of color, which highlighted a lip shade that would overwhelm 90% of the complexions in the world. With his very dark eyes and raven hair it was just enough. As Angela turned him to the mirror to see her handy work, both the girls began to lose baggage and nonessential clothing. When Angela returned him to the television room, Brandi was standing lookout while Candi circled for the kill. "Patty Dear, would you like to see something?" Pedro understood only that a question had been asked, but Candi did not really expect a response. It gave her a chance to pull him from the sofa and lead him to her room. Brandi, wearing only a dressing gown, was at the vanity with half a dozen perfume bottles around. Jumping Bean Productions "Oh there you are. Patricia dear, we thought we would show you a little about fragrances." She stroked a bottle stopper against her wrist. "This is Chanel #5, and this is #11. Can you tell the difference?" At first Pedro was confused, but he sniffed the wrist as she had, and received his first experience with $100 an ounce perfume. It went to his head. Brandi unstopped another bottle. "This is called Passion." She dabbed some under her ears. Pedro leaned over to catch a whiff. Brandi looked up and smiled. "Candi dear, what would go well on Patricia?" "Ambrosia would be nice, but right now I would go with Musk." "Musk it is. Patricia dear, give me your hand." She took a waiting bottle and dabbed his wrists. He rubbed them together as she had shown him. He found the scent odd. Brandi took the hand and inhaled deeply. "You were right Candi. Musk is a winner." Holding his hand, she rose from the vanity and turned to face him. She stroked his jaw line with the glass stopper and rubbed it in with her fingertips. Then she brushed her scented fingers over the tops of her breasts, pulling her sash open as she did. "Come here and let me smell you." Taking him by the shoulders, she nuzzled him along the jaw line up to his earlobe. Pedro, still not aware he was being seduced, put his arms hesitantly around her. The effect shocked him. Brandi pulled back enough to see his face and gave a radiant smile, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. The kiss lingered. Candi called, "I want some." Brandi pulled him toward the bed. The twins slept together and had the only full size bed in the hotel. Pedro was shocked to see Candi, nude, drawing a scent stopper down her belly to her carrot patch. Whatever else might said about the girls, they were true redheads. Before he could react, Brandi pushed him on top of her and jumped on the pile. They unwound in a moment. Pedro found himself looking at two snow white breasts with tiny pink nipples. Scented nipples. He had to admit they smelled enticing. He took a little taste. Candi shivered and squealed. Alarmed for a moment, he saw the encouragement on her face and began to tongue bathe them. He looked down and saw Brandi buried in the bush. She motioned to him. He watched her expertly part the lips to uncover the grotto below. She plunged her tongue in deep and pulled it out and up over the clit. Candi squirmed. Pedro, now understanding the game, began to work over her belly, breasts and neck. Candi grabbed his head and pulled it to her lips. Her hands in his hair were painful, but it added to his growing excitement. She gave him his first French kiss. Inexperienced or not, Pedro caught on quickly. He did not linger over the new experience, but sucked on the tongue and enjoyed her taste. This was much better than the taste of the perfume. His tongue ran over, and under, her lips, then down her face to her ear. He had seen boys kissing girls ears often as a child. It did not detract from the experience here, since, just as he began nibbling on her studded lobe, Candi exploded. It was the first time he had watched an orgasm in progress. He filed the scene away in his memory. Candi's pale skinned, red haired, pink flushed, arched back, writhing would affect the rest of his life. All other orgasm would be compared to it, and many found wanting. Brandi was, after all, an expert. When Candi finally settled down, he kissed her breasts again and she giggled. Brandi had other ideas. Twins shared, and she had not had hers yet. Pedro was now fully up to speed. When she reached over and drew him into a kiss, and he responded in kind. Where Candi had been rather passive, Brandi was aggressive and brought her teeth into play. In his state, Pedro was fine with that approach. A little rough it would be. Moving around the bed, he knelt on the rug and pulled open her robe. Not surprisingly, he found her naked underneath. He had watched her scent the tops of her breasts, so he started there. Nuzzling and nibbling down to the nipples, he nipped each in turn. Then he shifted up to the neck, working finally to an ear. Ears were going to be a thing for him. Pedro could tell it already. Licking and tugging at the lobe, he let his hands go back to the breasts, plucking and tugging. Then his lips returned to the breasts as one hand slid down to the pubic mound. Her back arched, in anticipation, as he pulled on her pubic hair. It was another effect for the memory log. She mewled a protest while he slid down to kneel at the foot of the bed. She was too far forward, so he grabbed her where thigh met hip and pulled, letting her heels drop onto his back. It was to become a favorite position. Kneeling on the floor, thighs on both sides, heels down the back, so Pedro could dine in peace. Eat he did. First he licked the moisture off the top of the folds and blowing to air dry. Then starting at the bottom he used his hands to pull open the honeypot, which he attacked like a bear in a hive. Candi was now contributing by sucking Brandi's tongue, so there were only muffled sounds as he found the clit higher up. Cruelly he let it alone for the moment. Instead he turned his head to the thigh on one side and lathered his tongue on it. His hands had nothing to do, so he grabbed the mounds of her ass and squeezed. Her heels bore down on his back as her back arched, which he took as a cue to nip the clit with his teeth. Her reaction threw him sideways onto the floor. By the time he pulled himself up, Brandi was pointing an accusing finger at him, while Candi was pounding the bed with laughter. He had thought Candi flushed. He was wrong. Brandi was inventing shades of red as she fought for breath. He was becoming concerned when Candi crawled off the bed and kissed him. "Bueno. Muy bueno." This was music to his ears. She kissed him again and put the bottle of musk in his hand, "Por vou.", which was the wrong language, but he got the point. "Come here Dear. Lets fix you up." She led him to the dressing chair, pulled up the skirt, pulled out the equipment, and popped the top. As blowjobs go, it was not much. Candi was not the flute player Gretchen was, and Pedro was so wired it took only seconds. But the relief was bliss and Candi petted him and spoke sweetly. Then it was girl stuff as she helped him fix his makeup. A few minutes later when Miss Walker came by on rounds, all she saw were two tousled girls in robes, helping another with her makeup. "You girls look wrung out." Candi: "Yes Miss Walker. We've been playing mixed pairs." Brandi: "We won both sets, even though the last one got a little rough." Candi: "We were about to bathe, but Patty here needed a little help with her face." Brandi: "She somehow got it all smeared." "Well it's nice of you girls to take an interest. She certainly looks sexy made up like that." Both: "Oh yes Miss Walker. That was what we wanted; sexy." When she had gone, both girls dissolved in giggles. Pedro did not know what to make of Miss Walker. On one hand she was clearly an authority figure and to be treated carefully. On the other hand she seemed to want to protect the girls, which he certainly agreed to, and in a severe way she was nice to him, and seemed to think well of him. He decided that he would be very careful. **** The rest of the day went memorably. Sunday dinner was always an occasion at the Hotel. The staff set out the good dishes and prepared a fine meal. To Pedro it was like a dream Christmas feast. He ate sparingly, partly because he did not want to seem inhospitable, but mostly because the rest of the girls on Fifth Floor wanted to show him off. In later years that first dinner would represent all that was good and right with the world: plenty of food, plenty of cheer, and plenty of beautiful young women. It did not hurt that he was the center of attention. Gretchen was absent—she rarely made meals at the hotel—but fully half the hotel turned out for the big meal of the week, and six of the eight on the Fifth. It is an old saying that two people can keep a secret, provided one of them is dead. It is therefore totally surprising that Pedro's secret stayed just that, secret. There were countless conversations about the dress, a classic pinafore, and the makeup and perfume, Brandi and Candi went on about that, but in the end the conversation never turned to illicit matters. When dinner was over, the girls began to go separate ways. There remained a cluster of girls that hovered around anything new, and Patricia was the newest thing in a while. It was not just because she looked so good in a simple dress, but because she was so mysterious. Who was this brutal boyfriend? Where exactly did she come from? Did she really have no family? This last was particularly delicious, since a large part of the pecking order was based on "Who's Who", so having no father was something akin to having no clothes. Pedro was saved in large part by the fact that rural spoken Spanish and Prep School Spanish are only slightly related. While it is undeniable that he learned much better English than he ever learned Spanish, that was still in the future. When the time of smiling and nodding--another thing that would serve him well in later life--was finally done, there were only three girls left. Angela, Deirdre, and Francine, all from the Fifth. Francine only remained to obtain a promise that Patricia would attend her wedding. Pedro was glad to oblige. Also, thought he did not know it yet, Pedro would inherit her room. Deirdre was another matter. As a Fifth Floor girl, she was in the know. Also, of all the girls in the hotel, she was the best linguist. Her father was German, her mother French, her governess Dutch and her nanny Italian. There had also been a Mexican gardener, but rumors about him were spoken in hushed tones. Suffice to say that Deirdre spoke four languages fluently and six or seven more somewhat: rural Spanish counting as a "somewhat." Moreover, she had gotten the twin's version of the afternoon events, and wanted some for herself. Deirdre walked the wild side and was known for getting what she wanted over any objection. Angela was inclined to offer the objections, but she was operating at a handicap. So she and Angela dragged Pedro out of the dining hall, still arguing over what was best to do next. In the end, what really decided matters, was that Deirdre had a car. It was almost nine before the three of them made it out of the house. It was almost 11 before they got back. The time was spent planning and assembling a charade. Pedro was in fact male. As such he could not get past the front desk. However as Patricia could come and go as she pleased, although going after 8 and coming after 10 , without a good cause would be reported. The cause this night was Patricia's poor cousin Pedro. For reality's sake, Angela and Dieted insisted on going back to the old school to get Pedro's his old clothes. For Pedro, it was a trip into the bowels of Hell. He resolved to do whatever it took to avoid going back there again. They retired for the night with the firm plan: tomorrow Pedro would appear. Much discussion remained as to the details, but that central fact was established. After that it was quiet night for Pedro. He slept on the floor and never woke when a well fucked Miss Schneider came in much later. He was used to hard floors and slept like a rock. Monday was a new beginning in many ways. With her new style and Angela's connections, Patricia could get job interviews at places that would not even admit Pedro. By noon she had a part time job dealing with Spanish language matters at a major Manhattan bank. Her starting salary was more per day, part time, than Pedro had made in a week washing dishes. The bank would even tutor her in English. Angela took Patricia to Tavern on the Green to celebrate. In a week full of memorable moments, this was the crowning event. In later years no achievement was complete til TotG had hosted the celebration. Back at the hotel, Deirdre met them with "The Plan." Angela would take Patricia out after dinner. Deirdre would meet them at a prearranged place, take Pedro back to the hotel, suitably attired, and then return. Angela would help him change back and the two would be home by 10, or so. Deirdre had already acquired a set of men's clothing, clean but ragged, for him to change into. Pedro's old clothes were too disgusting for what she had in mind. Pedro did not like the idea of abandoning Angela, although the Public Library is a fairly safe place. He liked it even less when Deirdre drove him, not to the hotel, but to a seedy apartment building on the west side. This was to be Pedro's home. Pedro as distinct from Patricia. The apartment was not as bad as he had imagined. Deirdre, Gretchen and two other girls split the rent to have another place to go with a date. It was somewhat feminine, although bland, and had a sound system and a bar. In the back was Deirdre's toy room. She led him toward this, dropping clothes as she went. Deirdre liked to be spanked. Pedro was no more taken back by an array of leather bondage equipment than he was by any of the other wanton sexual displays he had seen in the last two days. It did not take him long to grasp that he was to be the stern Mistress, or Master, to Deirdre. He picked up the tool he had hated most when he learned his letters form the nuns, a wooden ruler. Whack. He popped the ruler on his palm. "Senorita is malla, bad. Is she siento, sorry?" "Oh yes Senor, I am very sorry. I won't ever do it again." "There. Kneel. Your, como se diese, bottom." Deirdre knelt on the floor by her rack--it was not really a bed--and leaned over, her bare ass jutting out. Pedro walked around to the other side and grasped both hands and pulled. This drew Deirdre into a difficult position, where her weight could not rest on hands or elbows. Her faces was flat on the board and her breasts were mashed against it, but her ass was still elevated with part of her balance on her knees. It was very uncomfortable. "Stay. Un minuto. Voy al bano." While Deirdre wondered what he could be doing in the bathroom, she fidgeted in her awkward pose. Just as she reached the point of ending the game and rising, the door opened behind her. Through it stepped, not Patricia whom she could bully, but Senor Pedro. Tap. Tap. Tap. went the ruler on his palm. Pedro had smelled fish and had read her well. She could be dominant among women, but not to a man. If he was not much of a man, he was at least the genuine article and he intended to show it. Slowly he traced her buttocks with the point of the ruler's corner. Down the cleft of her ass, to the milky white thighs. With one hand he grabbed a half moon and squeezed it like a lady testing a melon. Deirdre gasped at the sensation. The hand grasped the other cheek, with the thumb sliding down in to the crevice. Pedro had already learned what hid there. Deirdre moaned and squirmed, trying to get a fuller feel. Whack.Whack. "Silencio." Pedro roughly kicked her knees apart. This put the bulk of her weight flat on her torso, which Deirdre felt as relief, but it also exposed her most sensitive areas. Before she could muster the nerve to object… Whack. Perfectly placed diagonally across the butt to the inner thigh. It also caught some pubic hair. Deirdre screamed. Whack. No mistaking this one, half ass, half cunt. Deirdre lost her voice in the electric explosion of pain. As she gasped for breath, she felt a knee in the small of her back. "Esta usted siento? Verdad?" (Are you sorry? Truly?) "Si. Si. Senor. Estoy muy siento. Siento verdad." (Yes. Yes. I am very sorry. Truly sorry.) "Bien, nina mio. Su siento esta muy bien, para su, como es?, punishment. Si punishment." "Uno. Dos. Tres. Quatro. Cinco. Seis. Siete. Ocho. Nueve." He made her call them out. "DIAZ." He finished with a resounding slap. Then as she lay whimpering, he rolled her over and dropped to his favorite cunilingus position and licked her sodden cunt. At first she was to far gone to notice, but within minutes he had her bouncing the wooden bed. For Pedro, it was an important lesson in foreplay, one of many already. In short order, he had reduced Deirdre to a wreckage of the confidant girl that had maneuvered him into this apartment. This did wonders for Pedro's confidence, not to mention providing him with a variety of new avenues to explore. Never before had he been allowed to follow what his mind had seen since he was small. The thrill of vindication was intense. He would never know it, but the expression on his face at that moment would have intimidated the foreman from the sugar plantation Puerto Rico. Almost as a side effect, he had made a devoted follower. Through the years Deirdre stayed at his side. Sessions like the first one were rare. Pedro believed in having reasons for punishment, and Deirdre's appetites made him a little uneasy. In this case, Deirdre had had an genuine, underhanded ulterior motive, but she had truly repented of it. Acting at punishment gave spice to her sex life, but the real thing scared the shit out of her. Occasionally he would whip her for his own reasons, or as a gift, but never as a regular event, because she would never give him cause for true punishment again. Interestingly enough Deirdre went to confession the next day, for the first time since moving to the hotel, and regularly thereafter. Everyone said she looked radiantly happy. She would only smile at the comment. By the time Deirdre and Pedro finally arrived to pick her up, Angela had worried herself into a frenzy. She had not been pleased with the plan, but Deirdre and Gretchen could always talk her into anything. That did not keep her from fretting about "her" Pedro. One look at Deirdre silenced her doubts and Pedro's smile melted her heart. The change in Deirdre was almost shocking, but she could not take her eyes off Pedro. Clothes aside, she could not believe the transformation in him. His episode with Deirdre had turned a decade of abuse into a world of experience. The conviction that he had been right all along, and that the bullies were trying to silence him because he was right, radiated from every aspect of his being. Such confidence would have looked natural on a seasoned champion in the prime of career. Yet when it came time to return to the Hotel, Patricia reemerged with little fuss. Angela's lasting impression of the whole evening was how much taller Patricia was than Pedro. Miss Walker was also taken back. She was easily convinced that the badly dressed boy was Patricia's cousin. She saw a strong family resemblance, and she would never mistake the tall, shy, dainty Patricia for the confident young man in front of her. What took Miss Walker completely out of stride was his effect on Deirdre. Normally defiant to the point of pugilistic, Deirdre, standing politely aside and a little back, seemed downright submissive. To Miss Walker's practiced eye, it was obvious that this was one man that Deirdre would never walk on. She also found the arrangements suitable: he would live elsewhere, and might occasionally call on Deirdre or one of the girls. Miss Walker took note of the young man for future reference, quietly put him on the approved list and made more phone calls. *** Sunday became Monday. Monday passed into Tuesday, then Wednesday and so on. Things started to settle into a routine. Pedro was an early riser and would be up and dressed well before the other girls were about. Patricia would greet each by name, and converse as his rapidly developing English skills allowed. Then she went to work, where she performed well, and was soon promoted to the important overseas office. Patricia's supervisor, recognizing a barrio accent when he heard one, started her primarily in written material. As her command of English improved, she was given increasing responsibilities with Americans planning to travel. Jumping Bean Productions Back at the hotel, Patricia was treated as one of the girls. Deirdre was her shadow, which impressed no end of people, and raised her status several notches. In the political structure of Saint Evie's, Deirdre had been something of a power. All of that influence and more transferred to Patricia with the recognition of a conquest. Gretchen still treated Pedro like personal property and demanded service from time to time.He accepted this as a cost of doing business, and thought little of it. Encounters of a more serious nature, like the one with the twins, were infrequent. True the three of them had gotten together on occasion, but little more than that. Pedro was not really their cup of coffee, and he found them rather vain. To Angela he stayed close, hugging her daily and kissing her occasionally, but little else. He would have become closer, but she kept a distance. Francine married and moved out, vacating her room. Pedro moved into the vacated room, which gave them an opportunity for another shower, this time with Miss Walker's prior knowledge and approval. Thereafter, Patricia was officially in residence. She was considerate and well liked by all of the girls, and soon developed a reputation as a great shoulder to cry on. Her understanding of boys seemed amazing from such a young girl. In fact most of the girls did not think of Patricia, or Pedro, in any sexual way. For the most part any encounters were light, friendly and oral. That would soon change. Of the girls on the Fifth Floor, all had regular contact with him, save Edith. She was in many ways the anti-type of Gretchen. While Gretchen had tired of the novelty of a man on the floor almost before the first night was over, Edith let her gaze linger and took in details. Gretchen was a passable student, while Edith was Dean's list at Columbia. Where Gretchen was impulse, flamboyant, and irrepressible, Edith was quiet, methodical and precise. Interestingly, Patricia did not exist for Edith. She saw only a man in women's clothing. On the other hand, Edith had had no plans to add Pedro to her short list of lovers. Pedro for his part had noticed the quiet girl always in the back of the room. As his personality began to gather a following, he was aware that she would observe but never participate. Pedro never never completely dismissed her, but gave her much thought either. When he considered Edith at all, it was often to wonder why she behaved as she did. Pedro was a perceptive observer and he noticed something no one else in the Hotel had ever seen. Edith could be a major beauty. It was not obvious to anyone, not even Pedro, but without question she was the most gifted girl in the house in the areas of skin, bone structure and hair. Pedro, as his eye for make up and presentation improved, could not help but notice her high cheekbones or her rich auburn hair, whenever she had it down for brushing. Soon it occurred to him to wonder why all the skills he had learned from the other girls would not help this one, who had so many of the raw materials. Instead, Edith simply pinned her hair out of the way and washed it only occasionally. Her clothes were rarely stylish, and never the latest. She wore horn rim glasses, which were often drooping down her nose. In short, if her goal was to be unattractive, she succeeded. In truth, Edith did not think of herself as one of the good looking girls in the hotel. Instead she had carved herself a niche as one of the house brains: someone to go to with a homework problem or to prepare for a test. It was this line which eventually brought them together Almost by accident their paths grew closer together. Pedro was practicing his English, using a book the bank had provided. He was doing well with the basics, but when the more technical banking terms became more than he and Deirdre could handle, Deirdre's first response was to call on Edith. Half an hour later they went their ways, but Pedro' interest had been peaked. Sensing that this was not something that could be shared with Deirdre, for Edith's sake, he sought her out again the next Saturday night, while Deirdre was out clubbing. Edith was surprised. Whether she considered Pedro one of the girls or not, there was no denying his status in the hotel. That he would seek her out for her own sake jarred her, especially since she had tutored him earlier in the week. Edith had never gotten attention in her life, especially not from the most popular boy she knew. At first it was awkward. Pedro did not want to offend her by asking bluntly why she made herself so plain. For her part, Edith was a bit at a loss for conversation topics when studying was not involved. Pedro resolved the tension by offering a stroll for some ice cream. This was not a long excursion. The parlor was on the same block and girls went there regularly, often to meet dates they did not want exposed to Miss Walker. It served perfectly to break the ice. As they sat licking almond fudge double dip cones, Edith asked about Pedro's job and Pedro painstakingly told her. With ease born of hundreds of hours tutoring, Edith drew out a fairly complete picture. Pedro positively glowed at conveying so complex a topic, in English. Her professional pride sated, Edith found herself relaxing and enjoying the occasion. This became a pattern. Whenever Patricia was not invited out, or when Pedro was not coming as himself to pick up Deirdre, they would walk and talk. It helped his language skills as much as the time he supposedly put in at the library would have--that being his usual excuse to go out when Pedro came back. It chanced on one of these walks that the wind blew off Edith's hat, and several of her hairpins with it. She was flustered and fussing when Pedro caught her hands, "No. Is good. Everybody will see your pella linda, your pretty hair." It was the first occasion anyone had called any part of Edith pretty in some time. She turned red. Pedro would have none of it. "Tu eres muy bonita." (you, familiar, are very beautiful). If Edith had been surprised and embarrassed before, she was shocked speechless now. Seeing her clear disbelief, Pedro tsked. "Come. I show." He pulled her into a shop entrance, where the streetlight gave a good reflection. Pulling out his makeup kit and a comb, he let down her hair and tied it back with a ribbon, lined her eyelashes, blushed her cheeks, glossed her lips, and stood her up straight. In some ways it was déjà vu. Edith saw herself in the full length reflection much as Pedro had seen his feminine side in the full length mirror. A girl with a self image of skinny and mousy haired, saw herself revealed as a long legged auburn beauty. She flung her arms around him and kissed him. After a moment, he kissed her back. The moment lingered. "Golly." Edith was not given to strong language, but the intent was there. "If we're going to do this, you should change." Pedro was taken back. Since most of the girls thought of him as a girl, much of his lovemaking had a distinct lesbian flavor. There was nothing homosexual about what had just happened. Still, he was prepared. His outings with Deirdre had taught him to stash a change of clothing. He had lost it from time to time, but not often. Most of those that found it, also found it too small to bother with. Inside 10 minutes Patricia was gone and Pedro took her arm. It was a perfect night for such things: cool enough to want to go arm around waist, full moon, and nothing to distract them. It was with a shock that Edith finally realized they were out after curfew. Back they rushed to the hotel. As they went through the entrance, Edith realized another problem—Pedro could not go in and Patricia was still out. Rushing up to Miss Walker's desk, Edith improvised. "Miss Walker. Look who I just met. I mean we had met, but I never really had the chance to get to know him. Anyway, he came by to see Patricia and we got to talking. Patty's holding our chair at the parlor, so I could check in. Isn't he something?" Miss Walker had trouble deciding which was more amazing: the sight of mousy little Edith as a red haired beauty, or the fact that she was gushing. In Miss Walker's expert opinion, Edith was the most self-controlled girl in the hotel. Almost in a daze, she told Edith to be back in 30 minutes. When they had gone, Miss Walker reflected on how much less boring it was with Patricia around. She was the best thing to happen to the house in years. She hoped Patricia found a good man. Miss Walker worried because the poor dear never dated. Outside, Pedro and Edith got well away from the hotel before they both dissolved in laughter. Then they went to the ice cream parlor and bought cones to use as props when they went back. It occurred to Pedro that his life was soon going to be more complicated. He was right. One of the uses the girls had had for Patricia was as chaperone. A boy would call for one of them and Patricia would accompany them out the door. At that point Pedro would leave them and go to the library to study English or to the theatre to watch a movie. Several of the area theatres owners had offered her a job as ticket taker. This routine had been changing. Instead of going to the library, he would change into his Pedro clothes and meet someone. Originally it had been Deirdre. Increasingly it would become Edith. Oddly enough they would then go to the library to study. With her tutelage, his mastery of both English and Banking was becoming quite secure. Often as not, he would return her to the hotel, go back out, and return as Patricia with another girl. The timing occasionally became intense. Worse, jealousy began to rear its ugly head. Deirdre felt proprietary about Pedro's masculine guise. Their sessions in her playroom had become increasingly hard to schedule. Pedro became acutely aware that Deirdre felt neglected. It all came to a head one Saturday afternoon when Deirdre, going, met Pedro and Edith coming. In short order there were words flying and Pedro trying to calm both down. Finally he put his foot down. "Silencio! You will find someplace to decide this that is not a public street." In the end, he took them both to the apartment. For half an hour he let them scream themselves hoarse. Eventually the girls wound down, both flushed and panting. In passing he noticed that Deirdre looked even more attractive this way, but Edith did not have the coloration for it. "What is all this shouting and names calling. You are both girls mine. Deirdre, you must know that Edith is my special friend. I will spend time with her, for I enjoy it and she has taught me much. But chica mia, you are also mine. You follow me and I care for you. That is the way of things. To me you give your obedience. To you I give my promise to never leave you, or forget you, or put you aside for as long as you and I both live. Until muerto, intiendes? The Dark Lady, she no come this year. Now, my girls, come to me and be friends." Pedro did not yet know his strength. The fact that he had risen to a high status in a hotel full of pampered rich girls did not impress him. The fact that he had impressed a strong girl sufficiently to make her his devoted follower was lost on him. Now, without intending to, he stamped both girls with roles they would carry for the rest of their lives. Deirdre would be his vassal and he her Lord. Her honor, her duty, her body, her life would be his forever. He would marry and she might brought many a suitor for his approval. Never would they be more or less to each other. Edith for her part understood that while they were friends and might be lovers, there would never be a marital proposal. That was all right with her. The lover part began almost immediately. As he said "Come to me and be friends." he held his arms out, and they moved into them. The embrace was long and full bodied. Pedro muttered "Bien. Muy bien." not realizing for a moment that he had two excited females in his grasp. They glanced at each other, forgetting the fight and riding the hormones, and conspired against him without saying a word. Deirdre led the three of them into the bedroom. Pedro did not realize his position til they had thrown him on the bed and themselves on top. Deirdre, never at a lack for binding material, produced rope sections from a drawer. Pedro's hands were tied to the bedposts before he could do more than protest. "Well Edie, what should we do with him now that we have him. Personally I think he has too many clothes on." In short order he was wearing only an unbuttoned shirt. His substantial length pointed to the ceiling. Edith, who was experienced only because Gretchen had insisted and arranged for a lover, openly stared at it. Deirdre, both knowing and guessing the situation, took charge. "Edie, lets get those clothes off you. How in the world are you going to fuck a man wearing all that?" The word "fuck" brought color to Edith's cheeks. Her mother would have been shocked to find that she even knew the word. Slowly, carefully, resolutely she began to remove her clothing. It was her first role as a stripper. It, famously, would not be the last. The effect on Pedro was electric. He had been ambivalent about being tied up, but seeing Edith voluntarily remove her clothing put things in a whole new light. His relationship with Deirdre not-with-standing, he had never considered that a woman, particularly an attractive woman, would have such thoughts about his male form. He would soon be disabused of the notion that women found him unattractive. In the mean time, Edith's strip teased him to a fever. Deirdre left to acquire toys. There was no mistaking the set of the jaw in Edith's face. She meant to have her man if she had to rape him. All too soon she was naked, aroused and unsure of what to do. Deirdre came to the rescue. Handing Edith a peacock feather, "Here Dear. Find out what's sensitive." So began the game. A touch here. A caress there. Never twice in one place. Deirdre soon shed all her clothes and joined in, licking, biting and blowing all over his torso. Just as he was about to explode, Deirdre pulled Edith aside in whispers. "Listen Dear, I can't afford to take chances this time of month. If you want him, he's all yours. Are you safe?" Edith took a moment to think all this through, and realizing that her period had ended three days before, nodded. "All right Edie, I'll take the top. You take the bottom. Just take a little and work it in and out. Try to make it last." Again, this took a moment, but the physical realities of the situation were obvious enough. Again Edith nodded. "All right then." Pedro wondered what the conference was all about. His flag was down to half mast when it broke up and Deirdre very purposefully sat on his face. Actually it was his collarbone, but in any event he had a face full of cunt. He knew how to deal with this familiar situation, and did. What was new was the sensation of hands caressing his member while he ate pussy? He expected lips to follow, which they did, but not the lips he expected. The sensation of a cunt sliding down and gripping his cock was not totally new, but close enough. This well lubricated. pussy was new to the work and tight. Up. Down. Rock forward. Rock back. In. Out. Up. Down. Faster and faster. Edith came to understand the motion and worked herself to a climax. Pedro beat her to it by an eyelash. Both were bouncing and shaking when last of all, Deirdre came and the whole pile collapsed into heap in the middle of the bed. Afterward, when Pedro was dressing again, "Perhaps next time with music." Deirdre laughed and Edith smiled nervously. This was to prove the longest lasting relationship save one. Every first Saturday of the month for years after, the three of them would get together for games. After he married, they became four. The one rule was that Pedro had to follow orders. It became a relief, since he would soon be giving orders almost continuously. Edith and Deirdre, with almost literally nothing else in common, became fiends for life, to the benefit of both. What one learned she would teach the other, by high road or low. Both came to have an ear on the other side of the fence. They would be bridesmaids for each other. And yet again, Patricia's status received a boost. The foundations, on which Pedro would build his life, were being laid. Literally and figuratively. All good things must come to an end. While in many ways Pedro enjoyed the hotel, after a few months he knew it could never last. Spring had become summer. Summer had become fall. A new wave of girls arrived, many to attend one of the colleges in the area. In a tribute to his skill in his role, none of the rumors concerning his maleness were taken seriously. He blended seamlessly with the daily life of the hotel. From all appearances things could go unchanged forever. In other ways, he was meeting frustration. He was becoming quite capable at his job, and long since been promoted to a full time position. While this was gratifying, it also cut into his time. With two lives to maintain, time was quite precious. Also he was beginning to chafe at being the house charity case. Having his own apartment, closer to his work, would make things much easier. He could also be seen going in as either Patricia or Pedro. He began looking seriously for a place. In this he had unexpected help. Angela, his angel from his very first day, was quite receptive to the idea of his moving out. She called on her array of resources to help him find a suitable apartment. Being who she was, an answer came down within weeks. It was appropriately enough a Sunday when she took him to see it. She insisted that he bring a change along. Fully furnished, rent controlled, respectable neighborhood, it was the kind of place some New Yorkers dream about their whole lives. Angela's cousin, normally into high steel office buildings, arranged a private viewing for her. Pedro quietly agreed, with reservations, because Angela asked it. As with much else, he was becoming wearied with charity. For Angela, he made an exception. He was glad that he had. The apartment was much better than those he had been inspecting, yet less costly. He looked at her in wonder. It came to him that of all the girls, Angela was the one to find the correct gift, the proper word, the exact thing. In a moment of revelation, he recalled her first "Not yet Dear." many weeks before. Did "not yet" mean "not now", or "maybe later"? "Angela mia. I do not have words to thank you. Always you see more than I. What small token have I to give which would bring honor to such kindness?" Angela for her part was taken back. As with many truly generous people, gratitude comes unexpected. She was enormously fond of Pedro. Like Edith, Patricia was an illusion to her. She had not expected to see the depths of understanding of her position that she saw here. She looked more closely. Pedro, and Patricia, had grown noticeably in the last few months. She had seen at once that the simple role that Gretchen had created would not last long. But the end of the act still came as a surprise. She examined the situation carefully. To a person such as herself, the kind of blank check Pedro had offered could not be taken lightly. To refuse would belittle the offer, but to ask too little would be worse. Then there was the danger of asking too much, and being forced to accept it. "Pedro dear, what would you like to give me?" Not a hint of irony. "Ah Angela mia, what would I give for my soul? It is all to poor. I would give you myself, but I am unworthy." "No Pedro. You are very worthy.", and kissed him. Just like that they were engaged. "But such a thing is not easily done. What of your family? What of mine?" "Mia familia, My family will be quite happy if I marry a rich American girl. You are Catholic, no?" Jumping Bean Productions "Yes, my family is Catholic." "Then I must see your father and your priest." "No. First you must become Pedro de la Garza. You must have something to show my father and my priest." This was language Pedro understood well. It was a quest of sorts, to prove his worth. He had read Don Quixote as a child. Unstated, but also clearly understood, was the time limit. Angela would not be in school much longer. "Si, Angela mia. Pedro de la Garza must become a man." Some things were very easy to arrange. Patricia had mentioned Pedro around her job on several occasions. It did not hurt that the context was in studying English and Banking Regulations. So when Pedro applied for a job at another downtown bank, the buzz had him as diligent, family oriented, bright, in short like Patricia. The hours were no problem. Pedro applied for late night work, saying he had another job. Moving out of the hotel proved no more difficult. Patricia and Pedro would be keeping an apartment together. The ladies who had sponsored him to a room, were quite happy to see Patricia moving in with family. It was all quite respectable. Miss Walker became quite teary eyed, something which shocked no few of the girls, who had never moved her with any of their stories. Deirdre and Edith organized a collection of boys to handle the actual move. Exactly who thanked whom, for what, and with what would be another story. Sufficient to say that Patricia's now substantial wardrobe was moved with little fuss. The biggest problem proved to be Gretchen. A senior now, trying to squeeze out a respectable grade average, she had been unaware of the preparations. She was more than a little upset that her "discovery" was leaving her. Never mind that she had dumped him in an unfamiliar place, a boy in a borrowed dress, and left him to fend for himself. Gretchen threatened to call the "Sun", she never read the "Times", and blow the whole story. Accusations were made, threats were lobbed, and voices were raised before it all settled. In the end, the fact that all of the girls banded behind Pedro and threatened to tell her family all her dirty laundry, meant nothing. The fact that Pedro shrugged it off as unimportant carried the day. Edith and Deirdre exposed her anyway. It was not hard to get one of Gretchen's parties raided. Gretchen did tell the whole story at that point, but to deaf ears. It worked out well for her in the end. She married her defense attorney. The timing could not have been better. Pedro was barely into his new apartment, when he received his big break. Almost as a sideshow, Jumping Bean Productions had been launched some weeks before. Edith had taken an interest in theatre once she understood that she had the looks for the stage. She turned out to be a natural. Able to memorize whole acts overnight, she was soon in demand as a one night fill in. Pedro was her agent and Patricia was her dresser. JBP was organized to provide a mailing address. Patricia fielded the phone calls from her bank desk. Pedro had just gotten Edith a fill in part in "The Toll of the Clock" for three nights. As he finalized the arrangements, he chanced across an old acquaintance. Early in her time in the hotel, Patricia had auditioned for Maria in a traveling "West Side Story." Pedro introduced himeself as Patricia's cousin. As it happened, the promoter had a hot script, a leading man and was casting the ladies. He wondered if Patricia be interested reading for a part. Pedrosteered him to Edith, as Eve Conner, who auditioned for and won the lead. When the inevitable money problems came up, Pedro, through Patricia's bank contacts, helped iron out the financing. Viola. Almost without realizing it, Pedro de la Garza d.b.a. Jumping Bean Productions was listed as a producer of a hit off Broadway play. One thing led to another, and soon Pedro was hiring. Edith was part time assistant and full time Star. Deirdre was part time actor and full time Agent/Girl Friday. Soon the twins were on the phones. Miss Walker turned out to be another natural in any kind of matron role. She eventually quit the hotel to take over JPB's security. To his dying day, Pedro would be amazed at the sums of money to be made in entertainment. He achieved his goal of respectability by early March. When the time came, he was so busy Angela had to remind him of their date with her father and priest. Vicente Molinari turned out to be less of a problem than Pedro had anticipated. Born in the ghettoes of Brooklyn, he had helped his immigrant father build a company that bowed to no one. That his daughter brought home an immigrant with accented English, bothered him not at all. Father Bernini wanted whatever made Mr Molinari happy. Beatrice Molinari was another story. She was from quality stock and wanted her daughter to marry into an elite family. Her husband reminded her that she had once heard her own mother speak the same words, from the same seat, at the same table(it was a wedding present from Beatice's mother. Her subtle point was that they had no dining room bigenough. Vincente's subtle reply was to buy a house with a dining room big enough to make the table look small), about 25 years earlier. This did not improve Beatrice's disposition, but it did quiet the argument. The discussion about the wedding plans went on somewhat longer. It was after midnight that they finally retired. Pedro had thought the hotel's 12'x15' rooms expansive. The guest room had a closet that size. He was composing himself for sleep when a half seen figure slipped under his covers and fumbled with his cock. Knowing better than to cry out, he still threw back the sheets to find Angela, wearing only a bottomless teddy, under his covers. She put her fingers to her lips. "Sshhh my darling. Several months ago, the night I first saw you, I decided that I would only have you if I could have you here. You have not disappointed me. Now be quiet or mother will find out." At that she took his half alert member into her mouth. Pedro was shocked, flattered and frankly humbled. "No Angela mia. Let us first greet each other as a man should greet his wife." He took her in his arms and, stroking her hair and calling her an angel, he kissed her. She answered. For several long moments they embraced and the kisses lingered. Then the kisses became more urgent and Angela began to explore his body with her hands. She stopped to pull the teddy over her head, but when Pedro kicked of the shorts he wore in bed, Angela laughed. Pedro was a little startled that she laughed while looking at his penis, but it was a kind laughter. Taking Pedrito's length in her hand, she whispered, "No Pedro my love. You do not disappoint me either."