The Rose's Calamity (Chapters 6-10)

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Chapter Six.
June 13th, Friday, 3:30 PM Central Time.
Before meeting up with the other police officers, Trant went to Hantz Farm to check on Tom. Tom's condition shocked him. Although Tom was never properly dressed, he was rarely this disheveled. The stench of his body was enough to knock someone over. His full beard and furtive eyes made Trant even more worried.
Trant concealed his disgust and feigned cheerfulness. "Tom, we'll have to wait a while longer before we can reopen. You need a good woman right now."
He pulled a thick wad of bills from his pocket.
“Shave and take a bath, Tom. I'll treat you to some time with Ruth.” Thurt counted out four hundred and handed it to Tom. “That'll be a lot of fun. Ruth's girls will take good care of you.”
The black man's eyes lit up as he took the money.
“Boss, it's been a long time,” he said.
“Yeah,” Thurt said, “I'm sorry I lied to you that you could play with that chick. Jesus Christ, I've never heard such a pitiful cry when that boy fucked her poor ass.”
“Neither have I, sir.” Tom grinned lewdly.
“That kid has a big ass himself.” Thurt knew Tom liked to go in any hole he could get his hands on.
“It really is a squeak.” Tom immediately agreed.
Tom touched his unkempt beard, which he hadn't shaved in two weeks, and said he was going to take a shower. Trant watched his retreating figure, frowning. Tom was the most likely of the three to cause trouble. Perhaps he should do something to minimize the potential harm Tom might cause. Besides, there were many secluded places like Hanz Farm in his territory.
On his way back to the office, Trant also glanced at the Price brothers. As he expected, the two brothers seemed to be doing quite normally. They were indeed much more reliable than Tom. Back in the office, Trant called Ruth to tell her that Tom would be there soon.
“Damn it, Sheriff, that nigger’s going to ruin my girls,” the madam of the county’s only brothel yelled on the phone.
Thurt hadn’t shut down her brothel because she’d always been careful with her girls and honest with everyone. Of course, Ruth would occasionally invite Thurt over for free.
“He’ll pay a hefty price,” Thurt said, “just to do me a favor.”
She hummed, and Thurt knew that meant reluctant agreement. “Speaking of favors,” Ruth’s voice suddenly became coquettish, “Sheriff, you haven’t been here for months. Have you found a new lover?”
“Just getting old, Miss Ruth. Besides, I’m conserving my energy, waiting for you.”
Ruth laughed heartily on the phone.
********************
June 14th, Sunday, 2:45 PM Eastern Time. Maryland’s
Starling carefully used tweezers to hold the postcard under the light for examination. It was the latest one from Dr. Hannibal Lecter, postmarked from Oklahoma City. Of course, Starling knew the address was useless. She would never catch the doctor by the postmark alone. The bold handwriting read:
"Darling, I think you're investigating
the Little Rock rapist.
I'm worried about the last little gift;
the timing and place aren't right.
Like the previous postcards, it's signed 'hl,' the initials of the Doctor's name." This postcard frustrated her, because the Doctor must have just seen the media reports and discovered the problem. The media was still treating Debbie as the fifth victim of the serial rape and murder case.
Lecter was Lecter. His insight was still as sharp as ever. His intelligence had once again surpassed her intuition. And the Doctor was once again smugly flaunting his superiority over her. Starling felt a chill run down her spine. Dr. Lecter knew her weaknesses as well as he knew his own hand. He always managed to make her panic.
Starling reluctantly placed the postcard in an envelope, marking it "For Lab Analysis." She knew the analysis report would be the same as always: no fingerprints, and the postcard was so common it could be bought anywhere in the country. In short, no leads to follow.
Just then, the phone rang.
"Hi, Clarisse, this is Ginny Mayer. Working on Sunday?"
"Hi, Ginny, aren't you? Any progress on Beth's case?" she asked.
"Maybe, maybe not. That's why I'm calling. I've thought carefully about your speculations about all the missing persons cases. Maybe your intuition is right, they might be connected to Walter's case."
Starling laughed into the phone. She didn't want to hide her relief. She liked the guy, especially his Southern accent, which reminded her of the few happy times she had as a child in West Virginia.
"I need a dose of reality, Genie," she said. "My imagination is running wild right now."
"I don't know if I'm being silly," Genie said, "but I've gone through all the missing cars and young women."
"Oh." Starling's heart skipped a beat.
"They all disappeared in the south. I just finished sorting them. They all went north from Texas or Florida to Virginia. But they all disappeared near the Gulf Coast."
"Any clues about the cars?"
"Not really. But I was wondering if you and Agent Quinn could fly over for a day or two to help?"
"I'd love to," she replied. She said she would contact Quinn on Monday morning and then report to Crawford. She would then give him the exact itinerary.
********************
Monday, June 15th, 4:05 PM.
Crawford in New Orleans agreed early in the morning to Starling's request to go to New Orleans. Although their case was still the serial rape and murder case, Debbie's father was a congressman, so it had to be considered first. Quinn also nodded. However, he wouldn't be available until Wednesday. Starling flew to New Orleans first to work with Mayer on an investigation plan. The formal investigation would begin after Quinn arrived on Wednesday morning.
After leaving the airport, Starling went straight to the FBI building in downtown New Orleans. Walking down a somewhat dimly lit corridor, she found Gene Mayer's office. The door, framed by large frosted glass panels, was ajar, and she saw a man in his early forties sitting behind a desk, making a phone call. Even without a name on the door, Starling knew from his deep baritone voice and amiable tone that he was Agent Mayer.
He saw her and beckoned her in. The office wasn't large, and files were piled everywhere. Starling had to be very careful not to bump into or step on anything. She placed her small folder and backpack on the floor, sat down in the chair at the desk, and quietly took a notebook from the folder. She noticed him watching her every move through his reading glasses. His eyes were blue. One of her favorite colors.
He greeted Starling with a smile.
"If you bring him here, what are the chances he'll tell us who he gave the cash to?" Mayer continued on the phone, then scribbled something in a notebook. Starling took the opportunity to observe the federal agent in front of her closely.
He had a handsome smile. His black hair was a little messy, with graying temples. He didn't seem to care much about grooming. His eyebrows were thick and somewhat wild. She also noticed his tie wasn't straight, and his shirt was a little wrinkled. He was a man who easily attracted women, but it seemed no woman took care of his daily appearance. But she immediately spotted the wedding ring on his finger.
"Excuse me," Keenie said to Starling after hanging up the phone. "A detective in Beverly Hills found a Ferrari; they believe it's in our case."
"Good start," Starling said.
"Welcome to New Orleans, Clarice," he said, standing up, walking around the desk, and extending his hand to Starling. Starling quickly stood up and grasped his large hand.
He was tall, almost a foot taller than her, so much so that Starling had to crane her neck to see his eyes. He was also very strong, with surprisingly large hands. He was unusually careful when shaking her hand, as if afraid of damaging such delicate hands.
When she looked up and saw his smile, she had to suppress the involuntary feeling of affection that welled up within her.
To feel such immediate affection for a stranger was almost unprecedented for Starling. It seemed that something about Mayer had suddenly awakened fragments of her deepest memories. Starling didn't know what those fragments were; they were too vague to explore. But she vaguely felt that this man might, perhaps had, revived something that had lain dormant in her heart for many years.
"Slow down, Clarisse, don't go too far," she warned herself. "He's married." A hint of disappointment lingered in her voice. Unfortunately, he was married.
"You look much better than in that People cover photo from two years ago," Starling noticed a fleeting spark in his blue eyes as he said this. She remembered that nationally bestselling magazine, featuring her college graduation photo as its headline, reporting on how she single-handedly cracked the "Buffalo Bill" story.
"Come, look at this," he said, leading her out of his office into a windowless meeting room. A huge map of the South hung on one wall, stretching from the East Coast to the western border of Texas. A transparent plastic sheet covered the map, marked with different colored symbols.
It was clear that even before Agent Meyer began reporting his findings, Starling could see that all the routes converged on the Gulf Coast, from New Orleans to Ben Zacala. Meyer stood before the map and briefly explained each missing person case.
Different colored lines represented different cases. The missing person's departure point was marked with an asterisk, and smaller asterisks represented verified stops along the way, such as gas stations or shopping stops. Each missing person's destination was indicated by a dotted line. Every few hundred miles along each line, small arrows indicated the direction of travel.
"The next case, Katine, is particularly interesting," he said, pointing to a large orange star in Atlanta, and a solid line running along Interstate 85 towards Montgomery. “She drove herself to Charles Lake in Louisiana. A BMW, worth $75,000. She stayed at a Holiday Inn there.” He pointed to a small star between Montgomery and Mobel.
“She booked a hotel in New Orleans for the next day, but never checked in.” He pointed to the dotted line behind her. Most of the lines became dotted between New Orleans and Mobel.
“This is the center of our investigation,” he said, pointing with his thick finger to Bilalox, Mississippi. They discussed for another two hours, finalizing their operation plan after meeting with Agent Quinn the next day. It would be a thorough investigation.
“I have to go to the hotel,” Starling said. The discussion ended close to six. She was happy during the discussion; it was clear that Mayer was very capable. Contrary to his imposing and powerful appearance, he was calm and methodical in his analysis. The thought of working with this man made Starling inexplicably nervous. This was a first for her.
"Don't rush, Clarice. When you get to New Orleans, you have to try the seafood," Ginny smiled, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I happen to know a Spanish restaurant. Probably the best in the South… Let's try it tonight…"
************************
Monday, June 15th, 10:20 PM Central Time.
Starling, New Orleans, had just finished showering. Wearing a conservative-style nightgown that covered her from neck to ankle, she lay in bed reading the three-inch-thick file Agent Mayer had given her. Worried about staying in motels for a few days during the investigation, she specifically chose the oldest and least revealing rooms for safety and hygiene. She had seen many unbelievably filthy motels; they might appear clean on the surface, but once the lights were off and a special ultraviolet light was used, stains would be found everywhere on the sheets.
Especially a year and a half ago, after staying three days in a well-known chain motel, a colleague in charge of crime scene investigation jokingly checked her room and found more than thirty dried semen stains on the sheets and blankets. Keep in mind, she had only been wearing a thin nightgown while sleeping! This discovery gave her goosebumps. But that wasn't the worst discovery.
The TV remote was covered in semen and urine stains! Starling always ate hamburgers while watching the news at night. She had no patience for TV, constantly changing channels during commercials. Then, with fingers that had touched the filth, she'd pick up a sandwich…
Her colleague kindly reassured her, “The microorganisms in these stains have long since died and won't cause any harm. Besides, you can find these traces even in five-star hotels, though certainly not as many…”
From then on, whenever she traveled for work, Starling would try her best to cover herself up completely. This time was no exception.
Agent Mayer was an interesting person. Even more so, he possessed a certain mature masculine charm. His confidence in that Spanish restaurant was indeed justified. The grilled fish skewers were unbelievably delicious. This meal left a deep impression on the real Starling. Equally unbelievable to her was that even while working, she would still think of Mayer from time to time.
"What the hell, Clarice," Starling chuckled and scolded herself.
She needed to familiarize herself with all the files on similar missing persons cases as soon as possible. The formal investigation was starting the day after tomorrow. She didn't have much time to prepare. Moreover, she couldn't afford to linger too long on Debbie's case. That cruel serial rapist and murderer was still at large, likely already looking for his next prey.
"If such a criminal gang really existed, how did they kidnap those victims on the highway?" This question made Starling fall into deep thought. Gas stations were the most likely location. But how did the kidnapping happen?
The phone on the bedside table suddenly rang.
"Clarice, you're not asleep yet?" Mayer's unhurried voice made Starling's face flush.
"Of course not, Ginny, I haven't finished the homework you gave me."
"Well, an informant just called and said he has something that might be related to the missing persons case. Do you want to talk to him?"
"Now?" Starling touched her watch by the pillow and glanced at the time.
"In half an hour, at a bar. If you want to go, I'll pick you up at the hotel in ten minutes."
"Hmm," Starling hesitated for only a second, "Okay, I'll wait for you in the lobby at 10:30."
After hanging up, Starling got out of bed and took out a clean set of sports bras from her travel bag. After thinking for a moment, she changed out of the suit she had worn during the day and into a dark-colored skirt suit. Even at night, New Orleans in June wasn't exactly cool. Besides, meeting the informant wasn't a raid, so a short skirt wouldn't restrict her movement.
Once ready, Starling quickly combed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. Just before leaving, she turned back and dabbed a drop of perfume behind her ear, even though the perfume she always carried was very faint.
" What's wrong with you, girl?" Starling shook her head playfully at her reflection in the mirror.
********** ... "Maybe something went wrong," Mayer said apologetically. "That guy's always overly cautious. It's like the mob is watching him 24/7." "It's okay, Ginny," Starling couldn't help but laugh at Mayer's embarrassment. "Actually, this is the first time I've been to a bar in six months." "Really?" Mayer's eyes widened in disbelief. "The department should revise the agent guidelines. Everyone should consume 2 gallons of alcohol per month..." Just then, Mayer's pager went off, and he rushed to the door to make a call. "The kid said he'd been to the bar, but ran into someone he knew. He figured it'd be safer to go somewhere else. A movie theater, three blocks away." Mayer rushed back, grabbed Starling's arm, and pushed through the crowd. They found the movie theater easily. Seeing the poster, Mayer whistled softly. Apparently, the theater was holding a retrospective of classic adult films. The informant's mentioned theater number three was showing *Deep Throat*. Mayer pointed somewhat awkwardly to the poster and said, "I have to kill that kid later. Clarice, how about I take you back to the hotel first?" "It's okay," Starling puffed out her chest, looking nonchalant, "I'll go in with you. Going in together is the best cover, especially in this kind of situation." As soon as they reached the entrance of the screening room, moans and panting could be heard from inside. Pushing open the door, the room was very dark, and the smell was quite strange. Mayer and Starling stood in the aisle for a minute, letting their eyes adjust as quickly as possible. On the big screen, the famous actress was searching for her G-spot with a lucky doctor. Starling had seen this film in college. Every semester, everyone was overwhelmed with exams. When pulling all-nighters, some people would rent a bar and show adult films. Starling rarely went to such places. However, Bess had dragged her there once or twice. One of those times was for this film. Thinking of Bess, Starling's heart tightened. Poor Bess, where was she now? Both of them had adjusted to the dim lighting. There were about a dozen people scattered throughout the theater. Mayer squinted, trying to spot the informant. Starling was surprised to find that the dark figure just three rows ahead didn't look like a person at all. Looking closer, her face flushed slightly. It turned out to be a couple: the woman was sitting face-to-face on the man's lap, swaying rhythmically up and down. "Over there," Mayer whispered to Starling, pointing to a dark figure a row behind the couple. It was a thin, short man. She couldn't see the informant's face clearly, but Starling noticed he seemed to be smirking when he saw her. Mayer sat in the middle of the three, whispering something to the informant. Starling couldn't hear him very well. The movie was very loud, and the sounds of the female lead and the doctor's intercourse reaching its climax—the sounds of penis thrusting and flesh colliding—were surprisingly clear. Starling hadn't seen a live penis in a long time. Thick and long, it even stood up like a banana, the enormous glans gleaming. A close-up of the female lead's strenuous oral sex, the penis clearly moving in and out of her beautiful lips, made Starling's heart race and her legs go weak. Even more unsettling was the live sex show in the row in front of her. The couple was only four or five feet away from Starling, and their noise almost matched the movie itself. Even the backs of the entire row of chairs swayed back and forth with their movements. The woman riding on them not only made no attempt to hide her joy, but also seemed to glance at Starling every now and then. Starling secretly swallowed. She glanced at Genie beside her, worried that he would see her and laugh at her naivety. Fortunately, Genie was engrossed in the conversation. Starling involuntarily squeezed her thighs together. A jolt of electricity seemed to flash between her thighs. She even had the urge to touch herself. Fortunately, Genie quickly finished talking to the informant. However, the informant asked to leave first, and told them to wait at least ten minutes before leaving. Genie was somewhat frustrated; clearly, this intelligence was far less important than he had imagined. After briefly speaking to Starling, Genie remained silent for the remaining ten minutes. Starling didn't know if he was watching a movie or the couple in front of him. This was truly an awkward situation. Starling chuckled inwardly. Just imagine, two federal agents meeting for the first time, sitting in an adult movie theater with live actors around them. Ginny must be very uncomfortable. He wouldn't even turn his head in her direction. This guy was really interesting. Just as Starling and Mayer were about to leave, the couple in front of them clearly reached their climax. The woman lay on top of the man, panting for a full minute, before finally climbing down. They began to gather their clothes. The air was filled with the smell of fresh semen. "Clarice, let's go," Mayer said, his voice devoid of joy. The worst thing happened. Starling had just stood up when she suddenly stepped on something, slipped, and fell backward. Ginny quickly reached out and supported Starling's slender waist. Starling simultaneously reached for the armrest of the chair, but in her haste, she missed and grabbed Ginny's lower abdomen instead. She could clearly feel its size and hardness. Ginny's hand on her waist froze. Starling's face flushed instantly. Fortunately, her left hand immediately found the handle on the left, and with a twist, she regained her balance, released her right hand, and stood up straight again. "Damn it!" Starling cursed. Her right foot found something on the ground, and she ground it with her toe, chuckling to herself. She knew it was a used condom. A small gift from the couple in front of them. Back at the hotel, Starling had to take another shower. As she took off her underwear, she noticed a small wet patch in the middle. "What a terrible night!" Starling laughed to herself. She had never imagined she could solve a case like this. Maybe it was all Agent Mayer's deliberate arrangement? Then she thought again, no, Mayer was clearly angry when they came out of the movie theater. Just because she accidentally touched him, revealing that he was also impulsive about watching adult movies and live sex shows? But, he really was big and hard. "Don't be silly, Clarice," Starling called her own name, "When did you start having wet dreams? He's married. Stop thinking nonsense. We'll be busy tomorrow." But, before falling asleep, Starling once again couldn't help thinking about Mayer. Chapter Seven . Tuesday, June 16th, 5:10 PM Central Time, New Orleans. When Starling saw Mayer in the morning, he was clearly still a little embarrassed. He must still be regretting dragging Starling to see an adult film. This surprised Starling. That burly, masculine Mayer was so shy. Starling really wanted to tell him directly that she wasn't angry at all. On the contrary, she found the experience quite interesting. Once work began, the two put the previous night's events out of their minds. Starling and Mayer buried themselves in work all morning. They were very efficient, and the investigation plan was completed. At lunchtime, the two finally resumed their normal banter. After reviewing the action plan again, Genie called his secretary to print it out. "Remember, make ten copies in total." "Gini, I should go back to the hotel. I want to familiarize myself with the files again." "No rush," Mayer drawled, glancing down at his watch, then suddenly slapped his forehead as if he'd just realized something. "Oh my god, come with me, Clarice," he exclaimed, rushing out of the meeting room and running back to his office.

When Starling finished packing and returned to her office, he was on the phone.
"Yes, honey... I'm sorry," he said into the phone, "there's one more person having dinner tonight... Yes, that's right, just as you wished. Hmm, sounds good... Okay, thank you, honey."
"I'll invite you to dinner at my house," he announced after hanging up. “If you’d like, you can stay at my place tonight. We have a guest room with its own bathroom. It’ll be much more convenient to get to the airport from here. Besides, we can save the department some money.” “
I don’t want to bother your wife like that.”
“No, that’s not my wife. She passed away a year and a half ago. My daughter, Nora, came back from university and just made a big pot of okra. It’s her specialty. She really wants to see you and talk to you. She’s known about your story for a long time. She begged me to treat you to dinner.”
“Ah,” Starling seemed a little thoughtful. “Okay, I think it would be nice.”
Her heart began to race again. She packed her bags absentmindedly. As she walked with him to the parking lot, she kept talking to herself. What’s wrong with you, Clarice? Where has your confidence and composure gone? He's just treating you to another meal. Even though he's single now, it doesn't mean he really is "the one." Clarisse, didn't you never believe in love at first sight?
At the same time, another voice kept encouraging her: you know you're not a casual person. This feeling was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. Maybe it was "him." Besides, how would she know if she didn't try? What's wrong with love at first sight?
Starling sighed inwardly. If only she could talk to McClure now. However, she was always decisive. By the time she reached Mayer's car, she had made her decision. She knew she had strong feelings for this man, although she couldn't explain why he had such a powerful allure. She decided to give it a try. She hadn't had a man's touch in a long time. Her last
lover, the insect-wielding doctor she'd met in the "Buffalo Bill" case, had been gone for a year and a half…
She enjoyed sex with him; they'd had a month of good times together. The doctor was experienced, manipulating women as easily as dealing with insects. Within a week, he'd figured out how to arouse her in fifteen seconds. Knowing her strong will, he sometimes enjoyed letting Starling take the lead. But she soon realized there would be no future for them. It was just compatibility, not love. After an amicable breakup, they remained good friends.
She'd been lonely for so long that she'd almost forgotten what pleasurable moans felt like.
When she saw Mayer's handsome face, she felt a jolt of electricity coursing through her body. This was something she'd never experienced before.
Is this love at first sight? **********
... Starling cleared her throat discreetly and said jokingly, "This place must be better than a standard hotel room. Maybe we should help the bureau reduce its deficit a bit?" Ginny's eyes flickered, and he seemed to relax considerably. "Come on, meet your little admirer," Ginny said cheerfully, "I bet Nara's still in the kitchen." Nara Mayer was a tall, slender girl, about seventeen or eighteen years old, with long brown hair cascading over her shoulders and eyes as blue as her father's. Nara greeted Clarice warmly and offered her a spoonful of spicy okra. It tasted quite good, Clarice nodded. Ginny went to set up the dining table under a large tree in the yard, while the two girls stayed in the kitchen chatting happily. Nora enrolled in a university in the north last year, majoring in oceanography. She was indeed very interested in Clarice, bombarding her with questions, from how she single-handedly infiltrated the den of iniquity to capture "Buffalo Bill," to the daily life of a beautiful female agent. Nora made no secret of her admiration for Clarice, repeatedly saying she hoped to be as capable as a female agent someday. The girl glanced at the rice, then turned her head and noticed Clarice's expression as she gazed at her father's figure in the distance. That expression was complex, subtle, but at least one explanation was given: admiration. "What do you think of that old man?" Nora asked, going to Starling's side to watch her father busy in the yard. “He makes my legs weak.” Lost in thought, Clarice blurted out, a blush creeping onto her face when she realized Ginny’s daughter had overheard. “He’s a big guy,” Nora said nonchalantly, “but he’s shy around women. Believe me, I’ve lived with the old man for seventeen years. I know him inside and out. Don’t expect him to make a move, Clarice. Since he came back, he’s been pretending not to be interested in you.” She looked into Starling’s clear eyes. “Actually, quite the opposite.” ********** After a pleasant dinner, Nora said she had to get up early for work the next day and needed to read some things before bed, so she went upstairs to her room early. Clarisse, of course, understood that Nora was simply giving her and Ginny a chance to be alone. The girl was quite understanding, more like an eager salesperson. Starling couldn't help but chuckle softly. Ginny, who was refilling her drink, didn't notice the faint smile on her lips. He told her to relax and went back to the kitchen to wash the dishes. Starling took a sip of her drink, leaned back comfortably in her chair, and immersed herself in the warm southern summer night. The stars twinkled overhead. A room on the second floor lit up, casting Nora's silhouette through the floor-to-ceiling window; she was clearly standing there undressing. She bent down—taking off her jeans—then straightened up, wrapped herself in a towel, and disappeared through the window. She probably went to the bathroom; it seemed she really intended to go to bed. From Starling's vantage point, she could see through the kitchen window that Genie was busy at the sink. She couldn't help but marvel once more at his muscular build; he really was like a bear. A cute, intelligent bear. From every angle, Genie's image felt familiar and reassuring. Who did he resemble? At that moment, a surge of excitement suddenly rose from her lower body, not intense, but enough to make her shudder. She paused, then chuckled to herself, thinking it must be the alcohol. Starling unconsciously pressed her thighs together, rubbing them gently back and forth a few times. Several more waves of excitement coursed through her body. She couldn't help but ask herself the same question again, only in a more direct way: Did she really want to have sex with him? The answer came almost as quickly as the question. Yes, she wanted to make love to him, tonight. Her whole body craved the caress of his strong, large hands. Ginny returned to the yard, and she stood up to hand him his glass. He lightly clinked glasses with hers and said, "To resolve this case smoothly." They both took small sips, their eyes fixed on each other. For a couple of seconds, neither spoke. The chirping of summer night insects suddenly filled the air. "Let's not talk about work," Starling said, putting down her glass after taking another large gulp. The alcohol instantly heated her body. She knew her cheeks were burning too. Let it begin. She took a step forward, then another, her body almost touching the man. She tilted her head back, looking into his eyes, and pulled on his tie with one hand, gradually tightening her grip until his head was lowered and their lips were less than an inch apart. A light, tender kiss.

“I think I’m infatuated with you,” Starling whispered.
“Oh?” His voice was even softer, almost inaudible to her.
She kissed him again. This time it was much more passionate. He pulled her completely into his arms.
“I’m acting like a country bumpkin,” she said after they parted. She knew she must be blushing. Her long, slender fingers pressed lightly against his broad chest. His heart pounded heavily. “But your daughter says I have to take the initiative.”
They kissed a third time, passionate and long. The touch of their tongues made her feel almost melt. Their tongues searched for each other, entwining. When they parted, they were both panting, their eyes filled with love and desire.
“Will you make love with me tonight?” she asked.
“Yes,” his voice was hoarse.
"I'll go take a shower first, and wait for you in the room." She quickly kissed him again, took his hand, and turned to walk into the house. Looking up, she noticed the curtains in Nora's bedroom were swaying.
Starling quickly took a hot shower. What was about to happen made her body tremble slightly. In the bathroom mirror, she was both excited and nervous, like a young girl on her first date.
She stood on tiptoe, stretching her arms straight up above her head. Her shapely breasts stood proudly erect, her abdomen was flatter, her slender waist seemed almost fragile, her thighs were smooth, and her calves were long. Not bad, Clarice, you're not so ugly after all, she thought to herself.
After washing her hair and rinsing off the shower gel, she skillfully shaved the fine hairs under her arms and legs with a safety razor. Then, she spread her legs and carefully shaved the soft hair on the lower part of her abdomen into a short, narrow, and neat patch. The few sparse hairs between her thighs were shaved clean. Her body hair was naturally sparse, and with regular trimming, it wasn't too much trouble to do on short notice.
After drying herself, she wrapped herself in a towel and returned to her bedroom, rummaging through the bedside table for condoms. Because of a drug allergy, Starling never used oral contraceptives. She also never carried condoms with her when traveling for work. And now she happened to be in her fertile window. There were no condoms in the bedside table. Ah, if only McCartney were here. She even brought a few with her to the movies, just in case.
However, she found two small glasses containing whole candles. She lit the candles with a match, one on each side of the bed. She lifted the bedspread and pulled the thin blanket to the foot of the bed. She turned off the overhead light, leaving only the two candles in the bedroom. The light dimmed, and the air was instantly filled with an air of mystery and provocation.
Only then did Starling remember that all her clothes were in the hotel room. After a moment's hesitation, she simply untied her towel and became completely naked. In the flickering candlelight, her already delicate skin appeared even smoother, like solidified cream.
"Not bad, Starling," she murmured to herself. She combed her short hair, and her other hand slid from her lower abdomen to her breasts. Anticipating Ginny's arrival, her small nipples hardened, and her lower body began to moisten.
************
Five minutes later, Ginny gently knocked on the door. After showering upstairs, he put on a bathrobe. His heart was beating much faster than usual. Hearing her say "Come in," he pushed open the door. It took him a few seconds to adjust to the dim light, but he quickly found Starling sitting naked on the edge of the bed. His heart pounded even faster, and his mouth was parched.
Starling stood up and went to greet him, smiling brightly. His gaze moved from her bouncing breasts to her bare crotch. She pressed against him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and stood on tiptoe, beginning a passionate, wet kiss. His strong arms encircled her body, his large hands resting on her smooth buttocks. He cradled one of her firm, bouncy buttocks in his arms, lifting her close to his chest. Their tongues were still locked in a passionate, endless entanglement.
Finally, they separated. He laid her back on the ground, his hands on her hips, pushing her back a step, his eyes lingering on her breasts.
"You're so lovely," he whispered, his voice deep and passionate.
Starling pulled on his wrists, letting his hands rest on her breasts. Her nipples and labia were eagerly awaiting. His large hands grasped her soft breasts, gently kneading them. Her proud, erect nipples were pinched between his thick fingers. Waves of long-awaited pleasure surged from her nipples, her body trembling involuntarily, her breathing becoming rapid.
She reached out and untied the belt of his robe, pulling it open. His hand left her breasts, allowing her to remove his robe, then he turned her around and pulled her back into his arms. Her bare back pressed tightly against the man's body. The man lowered his head, kissing her long neck and smooth shoulders. His left index and middle fingers pinched her hard nipples, continuing to gently rub them, while his right hand slid over her flat stomach, his fingertips touching that warm, moist forbidden zone.
"Oh, ah," she moaned softly, as a thick middle finger plunged into her wet, fleshy opening. Another, thicker thing pressed hard against her back, rubbing back and forth against her smooth skin with the movements of his hand, leaving wet streaks. Starling sighed softly, closed her eyes, and spread her legs wider.
"It's been a long time," he whispered in her ear, his fingers deftly caressing her swollen, engorged labia.
"Me too," she groaned, "too long…" her voice trembled slightly, "Just like that, Ginny, use your hands to…"
His left hand pinched a nipple, gently squeezing and tearing at it, while his right index and middle fingers slipped into her warm, tight opening. His tongue licked her earlobe, then swirled inside her ear canal. Starling's eyes were still closed. The intense, multi-sensory pleasure made her weak all over, almost unable to stand. She could only wrap one arm around his waist and the other around his knee. She involuntarily swayed her hips back and forth, matching the thrusting of his fingers.
He was like a master playing an expensive instrument, both careful and skillful. Clarice's body was so different from her deceased wife's. Her breasts were of moderate size, not as full as her ex-wife's, but incredibly elastic, possessing a unique charm when held in the hand. Her waist was not only free of excess fat, but also had only a thin layer of fat. It must be the result of long-term aerobic exercise. However, the lines of her muscles weren't particularly prominent, and touching her didn't feel awkward at all; she still looked incredibly alluring and captivating.
He caressed her entire body while his fingers probed her tight opening. Sweet pleasure quickly accumulated, and Starling tried her best to resist the urge to moan loudly, but her rapid breathing clearly told the man that she was about to melt away with pleasure. Her delicate skin was burned to a pale rose color, her meticulously manicured nails left a trail of red marks on the man's body, and even her dainty toes frantically scrambled and twisted on the carpet
... Clinging to the man, her naked body arched gently, her bare buttocks swaying back and forth, her long legs twitching gracefully with each effort...
The long-suppressed desire, once released, was like a flood bursting its banks, sweeping away everything, drowning everything, unstoppable. Before long, Starling was pushed to the brink of explosion. Perhaps because she was so thirsty, she didn't even try to control her desire. She seemed unable to hold back for even a moment longer… her breathing became more and more rapid, and the swaying of her hips became more and more intense…
the man also quickly increased the speed of his fingers. A few seconds later, Starling bit her lip and suddenly straightened her body, her nostrils clearly emitting moans of pleasure that were beyond her control during orgasm. Although her body was tense, the shockwaves from her lower abdomen still made her whole body convulse rhythmically… the love fluid that gushed out shamelessly slid down her thighs…
After the orgasm subsided, Ginny carried the limp Clarice in his arms to the bed, sat down beside her, and gently stroked her thigh with one hand. He gazed silently at her naked body. Her eyes were still closed, a tear glistening on her long eyelashes, her breasts trembling alluringly with her still rapid breathing. Beneath a small patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair, her delicate labia were as luscious as a rose about to bloom. Glistening nectar clung to her crotch, emitting a sweet and sour lemon scent.
Clarisse finally recovered from the afterglow of her orgasm. Opening her eyes and wiping away the tears, she saw Ginny staring at her labia, his hand rubbing back and forth on her inner thigh. She smiled contentedly, lifted herself up, and grasped his rock-hard penis.
It wasn't particularly long, about seven inches, but like the rest of Ginny's body, it was thick and large; she couldn't even wrap her hand around it. At its thickest point, it was twice as wide as the full glans. The glans was glistening; apparently, the fluids from when he hugged her from behind had smeared her bare back. She gently stroked his penis up and down, admiring its magnificence and erection.
“Oh, damn it,” she cursed, then laughed at herself. Holding his penis, she remembered she didn’t have a condom. She asked Ginny if he did, but he looked just as troubled.
“Me neither, Clarice.”
“Yeah, nobody expected that,” she said.
He laughed and said, “But there are other ways, like you just did.”
Clarice laughed too. However, she still wanted him to be inside her. “You can go in, but before… pull out…” she suggested.
“I can’t right now, Clarice. You’ve made me feel like a 16-year-old. I’m not sure I can control myself…”
“Then let’s do it a second time, a second time is okay, right?” she said mischievously. Clarice rolled out of bed, letting the man lie on his back. She knelt beside him, her bare buttocks resting on her ankles. She grasped his penis, gently stroking it, feeling its weight and hardness between her fingers.
"I'll use my mouth, okay?" Without waiting for his consent, she lowered her head, extended her pink tongue, and quickly licked the glans from front to back.
"Ah, ah, baby," he gasped.
Her tongue traced the glans again, and his penis throbbed slightly in her hand. A faint salty taste, mixed with the fresh scent of bath gel. Clarice was overjoyed. That long-lost taste, the taste that made her heart stop. She didn't have much experience with oral sex, even pitifully little compared to most girls as beautiful as her. But Gini's strong response gave her confidence.
She recalled the techniques she had learned long ago from adult films and private conversations. Her tongue deftly licked the entire glans, tracing its sensitive sides, finally licking the urethral opening. He groaned deeply, reaching out to caress her smooth buttocks and back.
"Not difficult at all!" Clarisse couldn't help but feel secretly pleased. She looked up and gave him a quick smile, then leaned down, brushing aside the short hair that had been obscuring her eyes, and affectionately rubbed her cheek against his penis. The glans brushed past her nose and eyelids, leaving intermittent trails of sticky fluid. The slippery fluid on her face seemed to ignite her once more. She felt her face must be burning red, and her lower body was once again involuntarily wet.
She kissed the glans with her lips, making a soft, smacking sound, and the man made a strange noise. Without any warning, Starling swallowed the glans whole. Feeling the unusual warmth and moisture there, the penis throbbed slightly in Clarice's mouth.
It was the thickest penis she had ever seen, so thick that she could barely close her mouth; her tongue was pressed down, seemingly with no room to move. But what a feeling of fulfillment it was! Her sensitive tongue seemed to clearly perceive the shape and hardness of every muscle. So majestic, so powerful, so hard. Thick and thin veins crisscrossed the surface of the penis, contracting and vibrating violently with each heartbeat.
This powerful pulsation, capable of making one forget everything, surged through Clarice's heart, almost melting her completely. New love fluid flowed down her thighs, continuously soaking the sheets.
Starling tightly pursed her lips, her head beginning to move up and down along the penis. Her hand, gripping the penis, followed the head's movements, stroking it up and down. Her tongue gradually found its place, licking the side of the glans without fail.
The man's groans never ceased. Her lips pressed tightly against the side of his glans, then she sucked hard. Gini, excited, arched his back, meeting Clarice's loving and proud gaze. His fingers ran through her short hair. Clarice didn't want Gini to give in so soon, so she released his penis, held it in her hand, and lowered her head to lick his testicles. They were lifted and lowered by her tongue, then sucked into her mouth one by one, with a little pressure.
Gini's moans rose again, gripping her hair tightly, seemingly unable to bear it any longer. But she didn't care; she knew the tingling was unbearable, but it wouldn't make him explode prematurely. She spat out a few thick pubic hairs from the man, brushed a tuft of short hair from her face, smiled at the grimacing man, then lowered herself and began licking his hairy groin, making him curl his legs and twist his waist in ticklish pleasure.
After covering his muscular abdomen, groin, and inner thighs with saliva, Clarice lifted herself up and gave Gini a long, wet kiss, then slid her tongue from Gini's chest down to his penis. Her nipples, hanging in the air, intentionally or unintentionally rubbed against the man's body. The deep red nipples were hard and painful.
This time she decided to try something new. She deliberately raised her buttocks high, leaned her upper body down, and raised her head, keeping her upper body almost parallel to his penis. She swallowed the penis again, spitting it out several times, regulating her breathing and throat muscles. Finally, she swallowed it deeply. The glans reached an unprecedented depth.
But being inexperienced, she used a little too much force, and the glans pressed against her throat. Starling quickly spat out the penis, turning her head away and gagging violently twice.
Ginny tenderly stroked her flushed cheeks, wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes, and whispered, "Clarice, don't force yourself." She shook her head shyly, grasped the penis, and tried again. This time, the timing was right, and the glans passed smoothly through her throat. Ginny sighed loudly.
The coarse pubic hair made Clarice almost unable to open her eyes. She breathed through her nose, first gently twitching her head a few times, then began to swallow. Ginny excitedly lifted his upper body again. He had never felt such intense sensation during oral sex. The part of his penis, close to the glans, was tightly stuck in Clarice's throat, even causing some pain, but the pleasure was incredibly intense.
After a few swallows, she stopped. Waiting for the man to regain his breathing before her head began to twitch. But Starling had overestimated the man's control.
Ginny suddenly leaned forward, his hips rapidly moving up and down. She knew he couldn't hold on any longer; it was his final sprint. She sucked hard on his glans while gripping the base of his penis tightly with both hands.
Her orgasm was abruptly stopped. The trick Bess Albert had taught her was indeed effective. The man's orgasm would intensify in seconds.
"Ahhh!" The moment she released her grip, his penis suddenly doubled in size, and the first spurt of semen shot into her throat. Half a second later, a second, then a third… The powerful throbbing of his penis in her mouth and the scalding, sticky semen made Clarice lose her senses and forget everything.
She subconsciously swallowed as much semen as possible. But she hadn't expected his reserve to be so large, or that he ejaculated so quickly and powerfully. She choked while swallowing the fourth spurt. A large glob of semen was choked into her nasal cavity through her trachea and then flowed back out of her nose. With each exhale, the semen in her nostrils bubbled into air bubbles.
Unable to breathe, she had no choice but to spit out his penis.
The next spurt of semen forcefully shot onto her forehead and eyes. Clarisse simply closed her eyes, letting wave after wave of semen spray relentlessly onto her face, hair, and breasts, seemingly endlessly.
Chapter Eight
In the dim light, the two of them collapsed onto the bed, catching their breath. Clarice lay in Ginny's arms, her face still a mess. She stroked Ginny's face, smiled, and whispered, "Look what you've done. I'll be right back." With that, she got up and ran naked into the bathroom.
In the bathroom mirror, she saw her disheveled state: her nose, eyes, neck, hair, and even her breasts were a wet mess, streaked with semen everywhere.
Although she liked the slippery feeling of semen in her mouth, this was just too much. She quickly washed her face and rinsed her mouth with mouthwash. After thinking for a moment, she wiped her lower body with a tissue and then returned to the bedroom naked.
Ginny recovered and hurriedly apologized to Clarice. Clarice silenced his apology with her lips. She touched his crotch, weighing his scrotum in her hand, and whispered, "I didn't realize you were so good," she said, lying on his broad chest, playing with his curly chest hair, "Just like a stallion on a farm, producing half a bucket in one go..."
"Have you tried it?" he teased, touching her firm buttocks. Starling lightly punched the man's chest in protest.
“Actually,” the man grasped Starling’s fist, his voice deepening, “Emma died of uterine cancer. We hadn’t had sex for two years before she passed away.”
“No wonder…you must miss her terribly…” Starling squeezed Ginny’s hand. “By the way, if I get you excited like a sixteen-year-old, you’ll be back to normal in less than five minutes, right?”
Starling felt his chest vibrate violently as he laughed.
“Those days…” he sighed.
She propped herself up, her breasts heaving, and kissed his chest, lips, and eyes.
“Maybe it’s inappropriate to ask a girl’s father such a question, but…do you think Nora would have condoms?”
He suddenly opened his eyes, looked at her for a moment, then rolled over and pinned her beneath him. Of course, he carefully placed most of his weight on his knees and calves.
"You're such a boorish country bumpkin, Starling," he said, his tone heavy, but his eyes were full of amusement.
"And shameless, unreasonable, Mayer," she said.
"Yes, very true," he kissed her.
"But I want you inside," she said, "I want you really… Mayer."
They kissed again, Clarice feeling his penis begin to harden against her thigh.
"Maybe I can use your backside," he said teasingly, his eyes full of humor. But he noticed her surprised expression.
"Never mind," he quickly explained, inwardly cursing himself for ruining the mood.
“You’ve tried that before, um,,” Starling asked, “I mean, anal sex?”
Seeing her lukewarm reaction, Ginny breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Yeah, but I didn’t really want to…”
“I’m curious,” she said, blushing, “with your wife?”
“Yes,” he said, “you might not believe it, but you’re the second woman in my life. You and Emma.”
Starling felt a surge of warmth and gripped his arm tightly. He kissed her tenderly. They lay facing each other on their sides.
“Emma is a good woman. Two years after we got married… before Nora came along… she noticed we weren’t making love as often as before, so she bought a book called *The Pleasures of Sex*. She discovered so many new things, it opened my eyes. Sexy lingerie, role-playing, so much. Our marriage was full of passion. Compared to Emma, I have absolutely no imagination in that area.”
“Me too,” she said. “They all call me ‘sexually frigid’ behind my back.”
“You should really let those gossips see what you just did.” He liked to tease her. Starling’s face flushed again.
“You, is your wife… um… does she like anal sex?” she stammered.
“Uh-huh,” he said.
“Just an ‘uh-huh’?” she complained.
“Uh-huh,” he said.
Clarisse chuckled. She rolled out of bed and picked up his robe, which he had tossed on the floor.
"Go get me something to drink, okay?" she said, putting the robe on herself. The hem of the robe almost reached her ankles. She chuckled at her petite frame.
Upstairs, the room with the light on overhead must be Nora's bedroom. Starling knocked gently on the door, and after hearing Nora's voice, she pushed it open and went in. Nora was reclining on the bed reading, with two pillows under her. Seeing Starling wearing her father's robe, the daughter smiled happily.
"Oh, darling," she sighed contentedly.
"You said I should take the initiative," Starling said, sitting at the foot of the bed.
Nora laughed, "I'm so happy for you two, especially the old man."
"Could you do me a small favor? I know it's a bit strange… I don't have any condoms, you know, I never expected it, and neither does your father."
"No problem," Nora chuckled. She helped Clarice stand up, put her arm around her waist, and led her to her wardrobe. Opening the top drawer, she placed a pile of lingerie aside, below which were several books, a few dildos and vibrators, and a box of condoms. To Clarice's surprise, there was also a jar of K-Y lubricant and an enema bag in the corner. Clarice noticed one of the books was *Nine and a Half Weeks*. She had read the novel in her freshman year of college and had been annoyed by her own physical reaction to the book's detailed descriptions.
"Take whatever you like," Nora said.
"Good heavens!" Clarice exclaimed. Her face flushed again as she had to move aside a foot-long black rubber penis to get a condom.
"You might be surprised, most of it was left to me by my mother. She left me a box to open after she died." Nora took out a notebook with neat handwriting. Her voice suddenly became hoarse as she explained the notebook's contents to Clarice.
“This is what she wrote… her thoughts on sex… She said, let your body and mind embrace new experiences. Sex is beautiful. There’s more than one way to achieve pleasure… The more unconventional the sexual game, the more you need to experience it with a devout and pure heart. I only realized after she passed away that she was absolutely right.” Tears streamed
down her cheeks. Clarice put her arm around her shoulder, comforting her.
“If your dad hasn’t kicked me out of the house by tomorrow, maybe you can teach me sometime.” Clarice gestured to the contents of a drawer. “I don’t have much experience, nor do I have your mother’s beautiful imagination.”
Nora wiped away her tears, smiled, and hugged Clarice. Suddenly, as if she had noticed something, she sniffed lightly at the tip of Clarice’s hair, then chuckled to herself.
"What's wrong?" Clarice asked, puzzled.
"Nothing," Nora said, releasing the other girl, still trying not to laugh. Perhaps worried that Clarice might overthink it, Nora hesitated for a moment before gently saying, "Dad was so careless! How did he get it all over your hair?"
When Clarice realized that Nora had smelled the semen residue in her hair, she blushed furiously and wanted to disappear into the ground. She was filled with regret; how could she have forgotten that there were several puddles of semen in her hair when she washed her face?
Nora quickly hugged her, saying, "He must be head over heels for you. Otherwise... wouldn't you have made him as excited as a high school student? With you around, Dad's hope is gone."
"Thank you," Clarice said sincerely.
Clarice picked up a condom, paused for a second, then picked up another. After saying goodnight to Nora, she walked towards the door.
"Wait a minute, Clarice, what size clothes do you wear?"
"Six." "
And your bra?"
"34B."
Nora laughed as she rummaged through her underwear. "This robe is awful, take it off, Agent Starling. We have to surprise Dad."
She found a two-piece set of purple lace lingerie and held it up for Starling to see. The bra was extremely small, the cups only covering the lower third of her breasts, leaving her nipples sticking out completely unconcealed. The panties were slit high at the sides, exposing her thighs to the groin, then narrowing abruptly at the bottom. The material was incredibly thin; even through the two layers, Nora's fingers were clearly visible.
"Is this your mother's?" she asked, worried that wearing her late wife's sexy lingerie might be inappropriate.
"Don't worry, it's mine."
Clarice took off her robe, quickly put on the lingerie, and stood in front of the dressing mirror. Nora stood beside her, examining her father's new lover. Clarice felt she had never looked so sexy.
"I look like a real slut," Starling smiled gratefully at Nora's reflection in the mirror.
“Oh,” her accomplice chuckled slyly, “Dad’s really going to go crazy now.” Then, she added something that made Starling blush, “Be careful not to get that stuff up your nose again, it’s awful to choke on.”
************
After descending the stairs to the first floor, Starling took off her robe and hung it on the handrail. Smiling, she strolled leisurely towards her bedroom. At the door, she heard a voice behind her.
“This way, Clarisse.”
She turned around and found only candles lit in the living room; in the dim candlelight, Ginny Mayer sat in an armchair. Starling walked over, her hips swaying deliberately with her steps, her breasts lifted by her half-cup bra, her cleavage deep and alluring, her bare nipples pointing stiffly into the air.
"My God," Ginny exclaimed sincerely as she emerged from the dim light.
"Hi," she said, now less than two feet from Ginny, still naked. Fifteen years ago, he must have looked like a professional bodybuilder. Though over forty, his muscles were still impressive. She felt another electric shock in her lower body.
"I thought I'd changed partners myself," he said, handing her a large glass of red wine.
"Cognac?" she said, swirling the glass gently in front of her.
"Actually, it's armanac," he said.
Clarisse sat on the armchair opposite him. She crossed her legs and propped them up on the coffee table in the middle. She took a small sip of armanac, glancing at the kini through the rim of the cup. A burning sensation rose in her throat.
"Nora's cute, but not quite like me, Mayer."
"That's right, Starling. I prefer the real you."
"You've already seen it, by the way, my business's done." She waved the two condoms in her hand.
"You're incredibly sexy in many ways."
"You should thank your daughter for her small size." She emphasized "small," chuckling happily. She thought to herself that tonight was a first for her. Sitting like this with a naked man, wearing such sexy lingerie that made her more exposed and sexy than if she were completely naked.
“Damn,” she chuckled inwardly, “who would believe that a ‘sexually frigid’ federal agent like Starling would sleep with a man she’d just met, and let him ejaculate all over her nostrils?”
Ginny picked up the bottle from the coffee table and poured himself another glass. “Generally speaking,” he said lazily after pouring, “I don’t let guests put their feet on my table.” His fingers slid up her bare legs.
“Could you make an exception for me this once, you uncultured country bumpkin from the West Virginia mines?”
“That’s because your legs are just too beautiful,” he said.
Clarisse spread her legs, leaned back, her buttocks sliding to the edge of the armchair, and slowly sipped her drink, enjoying the caress of that large hand on her inner thigh.
“Don’t you think they’re a bit too muscular?” she asked.
He shook his head. "Running every day?"
"Yeah," she said, "and swimming, and kung fu too."
"Rank?"
"Second black belt."
"I heard you're the best marksman in the department, and you can shoot with both hands?"
"Brayham is way better than me," she thought, remembering her shooting instructor.
"Anyway," he said, "I'll have to remember not to piss you off."
She laughed, spreading her legs wider so his hand could continue sliding up her inner thigh. It stopped just before it touched the bottom of her tight panties. She sighed and took another sip of her drink.
"You've got me all pissed off now, Maier." She said, lifting one leg and resting it on the armrest of the chair. The meaning of the gesture was clear. He chuckled, kneeling on the carpet and pushing the coffee table aside to clear space in front of Clarisse's chair. His lips and tongue slid from her toes up her thighs.
When his nose touched that small patch of fabric, she murmured that the crotch of her panties was actually held together with Velcro, and could be pulled open with a single pull. He ignored her, continuing to caress her thighs, then lifted himself up and knelt between her legs, carefully licking her two erect nipples. He playfully bit one nipple, and though very lightly, she groaned loudly. Her hands ran through his hair, pressing his head against her breasts, enjoying the waves of pleasure emanating from them.
His tongue left her breasts, sliding down her smooth abdomen. She pressed his head down, and this time he obediently buried his head between her legs. He gently kissed the warm, damp fabric, its scent sweet and sour. He placed the leg she had been resting on the coffee table on the armrest of the chair, then used his hand to lift her buttocks, his mouth returning to her lower body.
"Lick me," she moaned, her expression frenzied. "Put your tongue in."
The man tore open the Velcro strap at the bottom of her panties with his teeth, and the two elastic panels immediately pulled back to the elastic band at the top, exposing even her neatly trimmed pubic hair.
Clarice moaned loudly when her nimble tongue touched her full, fleshy lips. The man deliberately avoided her sensitive clitoris, pressing his face tightly against her crotch, pushing his tongue as deep as possible into her burning flesh. His tongue busily went in and out, carefully avoiding the two full, fleshy lips. He didn't want her to reach orgasm immediately.
"Oh God, Ginny," she almost cried, "please..."
The thick tongue withdrew from her flesh. Her buttocks were lifted higher, and then, something Clarice had never imagined happened: the tongue suddenly found her virgin anus, licking it up and down.
The sensation from her anus almost drove Clarice into a frenzy. Her anus convulsed and contracted uncontrollably, and the mortified Clarice was powerless to stop it, only able to sob loudly. When her tongue suddenly left again, her voice was clearly filled with disappointment.
Between her trembling breasts, she saw the man's eyes again appear between her legs. His mouth covered her genitals once more, and she eagerly awaited his orgasm. However, she felt a finger circling her now-wet anus.
"Jesus Christ!" she groaned loudly as the finger forcefully penetrated her tightly closed anus. A wondrous sensation spread through her anus, growing stronger and stronger. His tongue finally found her labia, licking and sucking her clitoris repeatedly, quickly bringing her to orgasm. It was
the best she had ever experienced, seemingly endless, never-ending. All she could do was cry, her naked body trembling with uncontrollable trembling.
**********
...

"It's never been this wonderful, for me." They kissed again, long and passionate. Clarice's hand touched his thick, hard penis, stroking it slowly. After their tongues parted, Clarice pressed his buttocks, making him stand up and lean against the chair. She took his penis into her mouth, sucking hard. He breathed heavily.
"I want to fuck you, Clarice," the man's deep voice filled with passion a minute later.
Clarice spat out his penis, looked up at him, "My ass?" she asked teasingly, then swallowed the whole penis in one gulp. Her soft, nimble tongue diligently licked his penis, one hand supporting it while the other gently squeezed his drooping scrotum. Her beautiful eyes, burning with desire, were fixed on his expression. He looked to be in great pain.
"I will, Clarice, but not today. We need to find a day when we can do it at our own pace."
He found a condom and tore open the packaging. Her head moved back and forth faster. Once, the head of his penis was swallowed, and then she began to swallow.
"Stop, baby, ah... ah... I'm going to come again..." she cried, still relentlessly working hard. "Clarice, I can't do it a third time."
She took two more deep sucks until he grabbed her hair and spat out his penis. Smiling at him, she took the condom and slipped it onto his rock-hard penis, all the way to the base. He pulled her up from the chair, kissing her forcefully, his penis pressing hard against her lower abdomen.
"I'll lie on the carpet, and you can ride on top of me?" he asked.
"Yes," she said, "I have a better idea."
She led him to the back of the chair, then leaned over it from behind, gripping the armrests, her bare buttocks provocatively raised high.
"Come behind me, Gini..."
He immediately got into position, ignoring the poor, almost taut panties clinging to her crotch, and aimed his penis at her burning hot opening. As he slowly penetrated, her tight opening was stretched to its limit. He could clearly feel her body being stretched open by his deeply penetrating penis. He was so happy he almost cried.
It had been almost three and a half years since he last made love to his wife, Emma. And Emma's vagina hadn't been as tight and narrow as Clarice's for a long time. The outer edge of her vagina, like a strong little hand, gripped the thick penis tightly. The sensation of thrusting was indescribable.
"Ah, Ginny," Clarice cried out as the penis was fully inserted, the swaying scrotum hitting her clitoris.
The penis was pulled out, only the glans remaining inside. The intense stimulation of the outer edge of her vagina against the side of the glans made Ginny gasp for breath. Starling groaned again. He thrust in again. This time, the speed was faster. A groan, a gasp.
He maintained a steady rhythm, his hands supporting her slender waist, then reached forward, kneading her breasts. Because they drooped, her breasts appeared exceptionally full, swaying alluringly back and forth with the man's movements. Grasping her breasts, he increased his speed, thrusting deeply to the base of his penis each time.
"Oh…ah…" Clarice was lost in the immense pleasure.
She had never experienced such a thick thing. Her vagina felt almost torn apart. She had never imagined that fullness could be so wonderful. Because of the penis's size, the thrusts from behind felt particularly powerful and vigorous. Even when the penis was withdrawn, her body was involuntarily pulled backward.
She was like a leaf on a vine in a storm, both resilient and helpless. She felt herself floating into the air. If her fingers hadn't gripped the chair so tightly that her knuckles turned white, she might have already flown away.
"Ah...ah...ah...ah...Gini..." she murmured incoherently, overwhelmed by the throbbing penis between her legs. Unable to resist its size and speed, she quickly reached another climax. She almost fainted during her orgasm.
Gini's steady, powerful thrusts brought her back to reality. She found herself leaning against the back of the chair, her upper body limp, completely drained of strength, unable to straighten herself. If Gini hadn't pressed down on her hips, she would have fallen off the chair.
Gini wasn't in much better shape. His breathing was heavy and rapid. Starling's orgasm had almost made him lose control. The powerful throbbing of her vagina made him forget to breathe. His stamina was also almost at its limit. Finally, he frantically increased his speed, reaching orgasm two seconds later.
Although he had just experienced an orgasm, when Gini climaxed, his penis, which had almost doubled in size, easily sent Starling to her fourth, and final, orgasm of the night.
Chapter Nine
June 17th, Wednesday, 10:00 AM Central Time,
Starling from New Orleans got up early in the morning, took a comfortable shower, checked out of her hotel, and then drove her rented Tarus to Mayer's office. Mayer was there organizing documents.
At 9 a.m., they led three more cars and five agents to the airport to pick up Agent Quinn.
According to the plan devised by Starling and Mayer, the eight agents split into four groups, simultaneously heading east along the interstate highway towards Mississippi, investigating every gas station along the way. Quinn and Starling shared the car she had rented, while Mayer and another agent drove his Explorer. Each group of federal agents was given photos of all the missing persons and vehicles. Of course, this included poor Debbie Walter and Henry Burns.
In their haste, none of the agents noticed the several moments of confusion that Quinn, the most senior agent, showed upon seeing Starling. Quinn had known Starling for a long time. Years of experience as a secret agent had given him a distinctive nose. As soon as he stepped off the plane, he noticed subtle changes in Starling within just a few days. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what was happening, nor did he know if it was a good omen. But he trusted his intuition.
Like Crawford, Quinn saw Starling as a promising next-generation agent. Although she lacked a distinguished background and wasn't exceptionally intelligent, she possessed the potential to become an outstanding agent: a relentless drive to achieve her goals, a willingness to work 25 hours a day. Sometimes, her tenacity bordered on obstinacy.
Starling's performance at the FBI training camp wasn't particularly outstanding. Quinn's initial impression of her wasn't as strong as that of the unforgettable black girl, McPhee. Quinn was genuinely surprised to hear that Crawford had chosen Starling for the "Buffalo Bill" case. However, Quinn quickly understood Crawford's intentions. Starling was like a machine that needed no maintenance and never stopped; she worked almost pathologically, seemingly without any personal life.
Quinn had met many workaholics, but Starling was different.
Quinn felt that Starling's inexhaustible drive didn't stem from a hunger for success, but rather from a lack of the security a normal person should have. Only someone who has always lived a life of constant displacement would work to the point of exhaustion, using work as their only companion and fatigue as their solace.
"It's understandable that someone like her, who lost both parents at a young age and relied entirely on her own efforts, would lack a sense of security." Quinn hoped that Starling could grow up smoothly and become a true star agent. He didn't want any unexpected events to interfere with Starling's development.
"This girl, so strong on the outside, might be as fragile as a child inside?"
However, Quinn, always methodical, didn't rush to any conclusions about Starling's strange changes this time. He trusted his eyes. In the remaining days, he would observe carefully.
He, Starling, and two young agents investigated along Interstate 10. Meyer and the other three teams of agents chose the busier 90 Freeway. In the car, Starling told Quinn about Meyer's data and their idea that all the disappearances could be part of a connected, meticulously planned kidnapping. Quinn pondered for a moment, then nodded, saying it was entirely possible. But they needed more evidence.
They stopped at every freeway exit, asking at every gas station, fast food restaurant, and rest stop. They had all the staff identify photos of people and vehicles. Each location took at least 20 minutes. If a restaurant was busy, the agents would spend 40 minutes, squeezing in time to go through all the waiters.
The entire investigation was both long and tedious. "That groundbreaking discovery might be hidden at the next exit." This thought initially made you excited and eager to try. But after a long day under the scorching sun with nothing to show for it, you're probably starting to feel discouraged. The highway ahead seems endless. And the sun is so intense…
This is the reality of FBI agent work. Breathtaking tension? Every second is unpredictable? That's just Hollywood tricks for kids. In this grueling investigation, only those with the strongest convictions can, like Starling, work tirelessly from morning till night, every minute, every question.
"That hasn't changed; she's still that tireless workaholic," even the seasoned veteran Quinn couldn't help but remark.
The agents stationed in Mississippi, when they first met Starling that morning, had secretly mocked her slender and beautiful figure, calling her nothing more than a "pretty face from headquarters." Now, they had long forgotten their first impression; they understood that this young woman was not as delicate as she appeared. She was quite a character!
********************
Friday, June 19th, 4:40 PM Central Time, New Orleans.
After two and a half days of arduous work, none of the four teams had made any new discoveries. Friday evening, eight agents sat in the meeting room of the New Orleans FB branch, analyzing the data at their disposal. In the sweltering heat of the South, the constant travel on the highway was indeed extremely exhausting. Most of the agents looked weary and dejected. Only Starling seemed as spirited
as ever .
"We must have overlooked something," Starling said, staring at the map on the wall covered in colored lines. She'd suddenly had the idea on the way here. She'd only told Quinn. He fully supported her idea. "That's right, otherwise the case would have been solved long ago." Mayer's lazy, teasing tone was just right,
and for the first time, smiles appeared on the young but dejected faces around him.
“Even during the off-season,” Starling said calmly, “or at night, damn it, during the off-season, it’s difficult to kidnap a driver on a major highway.”
“Based on my experience dealing with human traffickers,” Quinn added, “they are extremely cautious. I can’t imagine a group of kidnappers hiding behind a fast-food restaurant or a gas station, hoping someone will just happen to stop by.”
Many people nodded in agreement.
“Agent Mayer’s map shows the routes that the vast majority of missing persons should theoretically have taken,” Starling continued. “However, we can assume that the number of vehicles using these two major highways in a year is certainly not just a few hundred thousand. Maybe even over a million.”
“I agree,” Mayer said. “It should be that number.”
“If one in twenty cars, for whatever reason, exits the highway and takes the Southern Mississippi Regional Freeway, that’s about 50,000 cars. If one in every 500 cars is a luxury car driven by a pretty girl, that’s… about 100.”
“Todd,” Mayer immediately stood up and called to one of his men, “Contact the state troopers and the state Department of Transportation. See if they have any traffic figures. Susan, go find a map of all the highways along the coast. The missing might have switched to local freeways, where there's less traffic and gas is cheaper. We’ll start searching all possible local freeways Monday morning.”
The room erupted in noise. The almost deflated agents found new hope. They excitedly packed their files, discussed Monday’s plans, and were also excited about soon being able to go home and reunite with their families.
Mayer took the opportunity to quietly tell Starling that he would take Quinn to the airport first. They’d meet at home.
**********
...

His sixteen-year-old daughter left a friend's house at noon, and was supposed to walk two miles home in an hour. But she hadn't shown up, and was now at least two and a half hours late.
"Lavalland, you know how hot it is today. I think she might be hiding in the sun somewhere. But I'll send a car over to see if I can find her on the road and take her home."
********************
Friday, June 19th, 5:30 PM Central Time, New Orleans.
On her way back to Genie's house, Starling took a detour and stopped for half an hour at a women's lingerie store called "Victoria's Secret." The three days of investigating along the highway had been grueling, and she had been looking forward to reuniting with Genie tonight. The thought of the potential erotic scenes made Clarice's heart pound. Her throat was dry, yet her groin was subtly moist.
The multiple, soul-stirring orgasms of that night had made the next three days of investigation extremely difficult. First, her lower body reacted intensely. Four consecutive powerful orgasms were truly overwhelming. Her labia were unbearably sore and swollen for the next two days. Especially before showering on the first morning, she even walked unsteadily.
After the soreness in her lower body subsided, a new problem arose. Whenever she had free time, her mind was filled with images of Gini, thick fingers, passionate lips, and of course, a thick, maddening penis, and the slick, sticky semen between her lips and teeth.
So she worked desperately, trying to drown the ever-increasing desire. In the end, even this 20-year-old was being worn down. However, at night, staying in a shabby motel, lying on the suspiciously smelly bed, her desire surged like a tide. She realized that it was Gini's one night of intimacy that had unlocked her years of pent-up desire. The perfect world of mutual pleasure had truly unfolded before her for the first time. The long-dormant desire, once unleashed, was intensely uncontrollable.
Fearing discovery by her roommate, fellow agent Susan, she had to resort to masturbation in the bathroom on Thursday night. Like most small shops near busy highways, the bathroom wasn't clean enough, so she stood in the bathtub, one foot on the edge and the other holding onto the handle. She quickly reached orgasm, but how could her slender fingers compare to Ginny's thick penis? The rapid climax only fueled her desire.
It made her even more eager for her reunion with Ginny. For tonight, she decided to dress up nicely, completely shedding the dreaded label of "workaholic, prim and proper old maid." She wanted to surprise Ginny, a real surprise.
She had already decided to buy a pair of lace garter stockings. From a very young age, she had heard the older women in the mining area gossip about how "sluts in garter belts" seduced their husbands, as if only promiscuous women wore garter belts. Starling had long forgotten many of the adults' teachings, but the idea that garter belts symbolized sin and temptation still lingered deep in a corner of her heart.
A woman dresses to please herself.
She wanted to look beautiful. She didn't want the nickname "iron girl who doesn't understand charm." Wearing garter belts was the best solution she could think of.
But as soon as she entered the store, she spotted a black silk halter-neck dress, both elegant and alluring. The neckline was extremely low, likely exposing half of her breasts. The backless design was even more outrageous. Below two thin straps on the shoulders, a V-shaped slit not only exposed the entire back, but the pointed tip even extended two inches below the waistline of the mannequin. The long dress cinched at the waist, while the hem was quite long, covering the ankles.
This combination of exposure and concealment only amplified the allure and sexiness.
However, Starling quickly realized that the slit in the back of the dress was so low that it would likely expose her tailbone and buttocks. Not to mention the garter belt at the waist, even her underwear would definitely be visible. What to do?
Seeing Starling hesitate in front of the dress, the quick-witted saleswoman rushed forward, praising the dress's color, style, material, and especially how well it suited Starling. She even said that the only problem with the long dress was that it might make her back look uneven and her buttocks too flat. But according to her professional eye, Starling's figure was absolutely perfect. The dress seemed tailor-made for her.
Starling knew her figure was pretty good, with a bit of a model's look, especially her thighs, buttocks, and back—it seemed flawless (in McPhee's words, "near perfect"). Maybe a bare back was sexier than bare legs? But what about her underwear and the garter stockings she'd been eyeing for so long? Should she just leave them out? And this long dress, which she'd never normally wear, was quite expensive. To buy it or not to buy it? Starling was never one to be indecisive, but this time, it was a real dilemma!
Seeing her hesitation, the sales assistant eagerly showed her a backless bra. Specifically designed for low-cut, backless evening gowns, the cups were less than half a cup, barely covering the areolas, but lifting the breasts inwards and upwards. Even better, this bra only had front cups, no back straps. The two cups were secured to the ribcage with special tape. There was absolutely no trace of the bra on the back.
Starling felt her breasts weren't particularly unattractive. While a deep cleavage would be stimulating, it would only be the icing on the cake. She was more concerned about panties and stockings.
Starling took a deep breath and asked, "What kind of panties should I wear? The back is so low—"
The sales assistant wasn't surprised by this question. Starling wasn't the first customer to be so perplexed in front of this dress. She smiled, "Anything's fine. As long as the colors match." Seeing Starling's hesitant embarrassment, the saleswoman glanced meaningfully to the side, "Wouldn't it be even better if you showed a little bit of underwear like this?"
Starling followed the saleswoman's gaze and saw several thongs propped up by the hangers. Thongs with a backless skirt! A certain organ in her body suddenly tensed. Yes, couldn't she wear it like this? In just a second, she decided she couldn't resist such a novel temptation, so she turned and smiled at the saleswoman. The saleswoman clearly understood the tastes of young white-collar workers like Starling perfectly, and recommended several styles in succession.
Finally, Agent Starling chose what was arguably the most revealing black thong. The narrow, sheer lace in the front was no more than half a palm's width. From the upper part of the inverted triangular lace, two thin black elastic strings, less than half a centimeter thick, extended from each side, wrapping around to the back and tying to either side of a silver metal ring. Below the metal ring was a third thin string, passing down through the imagined crotch and tying to another identical metal ring at the bottom of the lace. The design was simple, but the workmanship was extremely exquisite.
The saleswoman kept praising Starling's taste. She assured her that the back of her long skirt would drop exactly an inch and a half below the thong. Her smooth, sexy back was not only on full display, but the three thin black threads—two horizontal and one vertical—encircled by a silver ring also clearly told everyone what the woman was wearing underneath.
"Truly simple, truly sexy, truly imaginative," the saleswoman concluded smugly.
Since the saleswoman was so enthusiastic, and the southern weather was so hot, Starling decided to forget about the lace garter stockings she had been longing for. The saleswoman then enthusiastically praised Starling's idea of not wearing stockings, acting as if she was going to "go all the way," and recommended several pairs of sandals.
Starling chose a pair of high-heeled, loop-toe leather sandals. The heel was a good two inches high, and what was even more interesting was their simplicity. Two thin leather bands, one large and one small, were worn at the front and back. The larger one at the back went around her ankle, while the smaller one at the front just tucked into her big toe. Of course, Starling had never worn such simple shoes before. When she tried them on, the sales assistant kept praising Starling's slender feet and how obedient her cute toes were. Even when she stomped hard, her toes didn't spread out unsightly. Such charming feet should be exposed more often.
Starling finally chose a bottle of "Dream Angel," although she had always thought the perfume was too provocative. Now she felt it was tailor-made for her. Then, she happily said goodbye to the satisfied sales assistant.
**********
...

"I bought a few things on the way home."
"Let me see what you bought?" Nora pretended to suddenly realize.
"Let me take a shower first, then I'll change into them before you see. Oh, and I also bought some condoms, so you don't... run out of your reserves."
"Haha, 'run out' is a very accurate word," Nora teased, "judging by how energetic you two were that night."
"Ah!" Starling's face flushed red. "Were we being loud? How careless of us!"
"Yes, so loud that I had to go downstairs to see if something was wrong."
"Really!"
Nora nodded smugly, her heroine now blushing like a girl experiencing her first taste of forbidden fruit.
"It was dark downstairs, and you were so engrossed, of course you didn't notice me. But I saw it all clearly. You were lying on the chair, and Dad was standing between your legs, doggy style. The sight! Your waist was so slender and supple, like water. The way your hips wiggled was incredibly sexy."
"How embarrassing!" Starling was stunned. She never imagined someone would spy on her having sex, especially her partner's daughter!
“Don’t be like that, Clarice. It’s not your fault. You two are really hot.” She suddenly lowered her voice, her lips almost touching Starling’s burning cheek. “I didn’t sleep well all night. I used up all the batteries in the vibrator. I have a date tonight, an old friend. If I’m lucky enough, this house will be yours tonight.”
**************
Starling quickly took a shower. As she slathered herself in shower gel, her fingers lightly touched her labia, and her knees went weak. It was hot and sensitive there. Hungry for so long, the slightest touch made it bloom fully, exuding a smooth, fresh lemon scent. Her fingers couldn't resist slipping into the scalding water. A few moans escaped her nostrils.
At this rate, she would soon reach a small climax. However, something even more exciting awaited her. Starling wanted to save all her passion for Ginny. She turned the water to the coldest setting, and her swollen labia shrunk instantly, while her nipples hardened painfully.
After a hurried shower, she stood naked in front of the large dressing mirror and began to put on her carefully chosen garments, one by one.
First was the thong, which was indeed very, very narrow, and she had to be extremely careful. The lace in the front barely covered her pubic area, and the bottom was tightly taut in the center of her labia, as if it might accidentally dig between her labia. Even more outrageous, the lace in her cleft was so short that the metal ring connecting it to the thin rope pressed between her vulva and anus. The cold metal ring stimulated her anus, causing her nipples to harden and ache once again.
Walking was clearly uncomfortable for her labia and anus, yet she initially maintained a natural gait.
Turning around with her back to the mirror, the black straps were hidden deep in her cleft, and apart from the thin rope around her waist, her beautiful, white buttocks were completely naked from any angle, exuding an indescribable charm and allure.
"Even if walking is a little uncomfortable, it's not bad."
Next was the new bra, which she carefully applied along her ribs and the lower edge of her breasts, and the effect was indeed remarkable. There was no obvious feeling of restriction, yet her breasts were noticeably lifted, creating a C-cup-like cleavage.
Finally, she lifted the long skirt, carefully tucking in the elastic waistband, and then hoisted the straps over her shoulders. The shop assistant hadn't lied; it truly fit her perfectly, as if tailor-made.
The silk skirt draped beautifully, and the two pert, rounded buttocks at the back were clearly visible upon closer inspection. Even more intriguing was the V-shaped slit, its sharp opening indeed appearing below the thin thong strap. The delicate black strap and small silver ring, reflected on the V-shaped, snow-white buttocks, exuded an indescribable sensuality, making even Starling herself reach out and touch it repeatedly.
She quickly applied her makeup, spritzed "lover's perfume" behind her ears, and put on a pair of pearl earrings and a matching pearl necklace. Wearing her newly bought open-toed sandals, she walked back to the living room with a beaming smile.
"My God!" Nora exclaimed, speechless with astonishment at the stunning beauty before her. This was no longer the serious, unsmiling federal agent; she was clearly a meticulously dressed superstar attending a premiere! Starling, her cheeks flushed, gracefully twirled in place. Seeing the expanse of bare, snow-white back and the thong openly exposed, Nora screamed again.
"Wow! You're absolutely stunning! Every man would be captivated. Agent Starling, I never imagined you could be so feminine." Nora's voice was full of envy. She bent down, her head almost touching Starling's bare back, and lightly touched the shiny metal ring above the female agent's tailbone with her fingertips.
"The back of this outfit is so cool! You should wear this to the Oscars!" Nora grinned mischievously. "Tell me, what are you wearing underneath?"
Starling blushed, and as she hesitated, Nora grabbed her hands, her eyes darting to Starling's chest, and coaxed, "Come on, don't just let Dad get away with it. Aren't we still friends? I just want to see how deep that cleavage is."
Starling sighed dramatically, shook her head, and pulled the two thin straps of her long dress down her shoulders. The elastic waistband was a bit tight, and she had to wiggle her hips back and forth, carefully pulling the waistband over her rounded buttocks.
Nora unconsciously licked her lips; in her opinion, this movement was incredibly sexy.
Once she passed the hip mound, the long skirt slid down quickly, bunching up and covering Starling's feet. Starling carefully emerged from under the skirt and, in front of Nora, who was again filled with surprise, twirled gracefully like a confident lingerie model.
"Sigh," Nora sighed heavily, her eyes still lingering on Starling's chest and crotch. "Every man would want to devour you whole! Dad's going to be so smug tonight."
Nora stared at the barely-there black lace between the female agent's thighs and her smooth, white skin, then asked, "I noticed how neatly you trimmed your pubic hair that night. Ugh, mine is so much and so thick, it's bound to show in underwear like this, it's so embarrassing."
"Yeah," Starling said, pulling her long skirt back up, "I swim a mile every week and do four hours of yoga. I have to wear tight clothes for swimming and yoga, so I have to be careful. I don't have time to take care of myself every time, so I just keep shaving it like this. It saves a lot of trouble when changing swimsuits and yoga clothes." "
Then why don't you have any sunburn marks from your swimsuit? You're so fashionable these days."
“I always swim indoors. Swimming is just an endurance workout for me.”
“Oh,” Nora sighed dramatically, “you have a great figure. Look, you’re not even as tall as me, but your legs don’t look any shorter than mine. And your waist is so slim. Humph, Dad’s lucky!"
“You have a great figure too,” Starling said in a big sister’s tone.
In stark contrast to Starling, Nora was dressed very casually for their date that evening. A pair of tight denim shorts clung tightly to her full buttocks, barely covering the mounds of her buttocks, and her bare legs looked incredibly long. She wore a short-sleeved shirt, and Starling noticed that Nora definitely wasn’t wearing a bra. For some reason, the girl’s nipples were very hard, protruding from inside the shirt, their shape clearly visible.
"Who knows what it'll be like in seven or eight years? By the way, Clarisse, does yoga help? I mean, to maintain my figure."
"Hmm, I really don't know," Starling thought for a moment. "I run and swim to improve my speed and endurance, and I do yoga to maintain my flexibility and agility. Maybe it helps with maintaining my figure."
"Teach me yoga, okay? It's a deal!"
"Oh, right," Starling said with a smile, "My old Taekwondo instructor said that Taekwondo can make your calf muscles grow longitudinally. If you practice regularly, kicking two hundred times a day, you burn fat without making your muscles bulky, and your calves will become beautiful."
"I see," Nora nodded. "You must be pretty good. Show me. Come on, is the teacher still shy in front of the students?"
Starling tugged at her skirt, making sure it was wide enough, then took a step back. Suddenly, her right leg shot up in a high, fast side kick. Nora only heard a "whoosh," her long black skirt billowing up, and in the blur, a long, straight, white thigh flashed by. When she looked again, Starling was already calmly back in her place, only the hem of her skirt still swaying.
Nora stuck out her tongue. "Wow! That's amazing! I only heard the wind, I couldn't see anything!"
Chapter Ten.
June 19th, Friday, Central Time, 6:35 PM. New Orleans.
Clarisse opened a bottle of fruit wine, poured herself a glass, and sipped it while listening to Nora describe what they were having for dinner. The lettuce was washed and chilling in the refrigerator. The potatoes were on the gas grill in the yard, ready to be grilled anytime. The chops were already seasoned; after the potatoes, they could grill the meat.
The doorbell rang. "It must be Lu," Nora said. "I'll go upstairs to get my things for tonight. You open the door. Be sexy, make that guy horny, okay? I want him to see me hard as a rutting gorilla."
Clarisse shook her head, smiling helplessly at Nora. However, she was actually quite excited. After all, she had never dressed like this in front of anyone before. Was she really that sexy? Lu would answer that question for her. After Nora went up the stairs, Starling went across the yard to open the door.
A tall young man in his early twenties stood at the door. He was clearly taken aback by Starling's appearance, and for a moment, he forgot to close his mouth. His eyes first swept over her bare shoulders and half-naked chest, lingering for half a second in surprise at her deep cleavage. Then, for a fraction of a second, they lingered on her flip-flops beneath her skirt, before finally returning to Starling's face.
"You must be Lu," she smiled, gracefully extending her hand to the somewhat bewildered young man.
"Yes." His palms were sweating! "
I am Clarice Starling, a friend of Nora's father," Starling said, taking Lu's arm and leading him into the kitchen. The poor boy was extremely nervous. Starling deliberately pressed herself against him, her full breasts pressing against his arm. The boy dared not move his arm, afraid of pressing against her full, soft breasts. The scent of her perfume also made him a little dizzy.
"Nora'll be down in a few minutes, Lu. What would you like to drink?"
"Ah, um, a Coke, please."
She walked towards the refrigerator. Her two-inch heels made her hips sway involuntarily as she walked. She could feel his mouth drop in surprise, his gaze lingering on her bare back and buttocks. "He probably rarely has the chance to appreciate such a sight," Starling couldn't help but feel secretly smug.
In fact, this nervous young man's understanding of the female body far exceeded Starling's imagination. Starling only learned this later. It was precisely because of his familiarity with the female body that Lu was astonished by the perfection of this federal agent's back—smooth, flawless, and with skin as delicate as a baby's.
With her back to the boy, Starling opened the refrigerator and bent down to find a Coke. As she bent over, her slightly raised shoulder blades were so alluring they were irresistible.
What truly captivated Lu was the black rope twisted into a T-shape beneath her nearly naked back. He seemed unable to believe his eyes. What was that? What else could it be? His gaze involuntarily slid down the black line beneath the silver ring, searching for any possible trace beneath the long black dress.
The thin silk skirt subtly revealed the secret of her two buttocks. Below her slender waist, they rose abruptly, both pert and full. He could hardly resist the urge to reach out and feel their elasticity. However, his imagination made up for it. He uncontrollably imagined the bare mounds of her buttocks and the thin rope that quickly disappeared into the cleft.
She actually dressed like that! His mouth began to dry; he really needed to drink something. Those buttocks must feel amazing to touch. With such a thin strap, how big would her underwear be? Could it cover her labia? He really wanted to reach under her skirt and see what was inside!
"Found it," Starling said, pulling out a can and turning around. The boy quickly turned his head away, his face flushed. Smiling inwardly, Starling poured Lu a Coke and picked up her own cup. Lu took a couple of eager sips.
He was quite tall; he should have been able to fully appreciate her ample breasts from the deep neckline. However, Starling's well-trained eyes told her that Lu was staring somewhat absently at her flat stomach. It seemed he hadn't yet shaken off the temptation of the exposed strap, trying to find the thong outline through the front of his long skirt. Of course, she also noticed a slight change in the shape of the front of the boy's jeans.
Poor little fellow.
"What are you and Nara planning to do tonight?"
"Um, um, I want to watch a movie, then sit at my place for a bit, and order some takeout."
"You own your own place?"
"This summer I worked as a photojournalist for a magazine, and I rented an apartment and built a darkroom for myself. It's not too far from here. It's basically a room above the garage. I also help the landlady tidy up the yard, so the rent is a bit cheaper."
At this moment, Starling decided to give the young man another chance to carefully observe her back. She turned around and mixed herself a drink.
"Um, maybe, maybe sometime, I can take some photos of you," Lu tried to keep his voice natural, "um, you know, studio portraits."
Even with her back to him, Starling could feel him staring intently at that strange triangle of her buttocks.
“Sounds great,” Starling said.
Just then, Nora’s footsteps echoed down the stairs. As Lu approached, Starling couldn’t help but chuckle. The guy’s face was pale now. He must have been aware of the obvious bulge in his jeans. Nora quickly rushed into the big man’s arms and gently kissed his cheek.
“You look amazing,” she said, overjoyed. As soon as their bodies touched, she noticed the hardness there.
“Yeah, thanks…you too,” he said, his voice still a little unnatural.
In Lu’s arms, Nora secretly made a face at Starling, who smiled and nodded back.
Starling would find out the next day that as soon as Lu got into the car, he suggested forgetting the movie and going to check out his darkroom first. Nora immediately agreed. Less than 20 minutes after leaving, on Lu's single bed, Nora was already kneeling naked between Lu's legs, passionately swallowing his hot semen. After licking his limp penis
clean , she continued to suck and stroke it until, a few minutes later, it regained its vitality. Over the next half hour, Nora climaxed twice before Lu ejaculated. Lu's forceful ejaculation brought her to another blissful climax.
Lu ordered Chinese takeout. During dinner, Lu encountered the first of the many surprises from that night: Nora emerged from the bathroom, sat naked at the table, and happily began eating her Chinese meal. Lu had to admit, the sight was quite stimulating.
"Why don't you rent a movie? Something exciting." Her naked body pressed against him, and she pulled his hand to her bare buttocks. "I'll clean the house. Whatever you rent, we'll try it out and see if we can learn to do it. You understand what I mean?"
Lu looked at her for a moment, smiled, and went to the darkroom to retrieve an unmarked videotape. "Nara, let me show you." It was, of course, a top-tier adult film, but without any copyright information.
The story is cliché: a young, beautiful Los Angeles journalist goes to investigate gangsters, only to become their prey herself. However, the film is well-made, and the lead actress is stunningly beautiful. The scenes of brutal gang rape are also unusually realistic. The lead actress's eyes, sometimes filled with fear, sometimes with despair, are unforgettable.
Nora was initially captivated by the film, only remembering its purpose when Lu inserted his fingers into her vagina. For the rest of the time, they watched, did, and watched again. Before both of them fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, they first played 69, then Nora was on top. Lu's last few drops of semen sprayed into Nora's narrow anus. Nora was prepared for this; the complete anal sex equipment she brought from home left Lu speechless once more.
Of course, Lu hadn't forgotten Starling. During dinner, Nora told Starling's story, from Buffalo Bill to her falling in love with her father. Nora also jokingly implied that she had not only seen Starling naked but also witnessed Starling having sex wildly.
Lu had clearly taken the bait, and during the break after the 69 position, he brought up Starling again. Nora described Starling's size in detail. She found that just those numbers were enough to get Lu back into the swing of things, so she went on to describe more, including the size of Starling's areolas and the color of her labia (she was making this up, but Lu had long since lost the ability to discern).
When she mentioned the semen in Starling's nostrils, her penis was practically bursting. In fact, Nora found herself equally excited by talking about and imagining Starling. As Lu applied lubricant to her anus, Nora remarked that Starling's anus was still untouched, but sooner or later, her father would deflower her.
"Probably in the next day or two. Kid, aren't you a little resentful? Ah, ah, don't even mention you, I'm a little jealous of Dad too."
Nora ended her assessment with a scream. Lu used a bit too much force, almost breaking down the door. Nora was in so much pain she almost cried, but the pleasure that followed quickly overwhelmed her reason. They continued anal sex while fantasizing about Starling, as if a federal
agent was kneeling naked beside them, rising and falling with them in the sea of lust .
********** ... Trant called on a deputy and several other officers who had already gone home, and they began the search in the hour before nightfall. They split into two teams. Trant's group followed a wooded path back along the trail. In a clearing, Trant found fresh tire tracks, with some blurry footprints in the damp mud nearby. From these footprints of varying sizes, he could roughly deduce the identities of a young woman and a tall adult man. The officers spent the remaining time taking photos and samples. The tire tracks led back to the highway. The muddy tire tracks only lasted about 100 feet before disappearing completely. However, the car had clearly headed north. He deduced that the Black woman had been kidnapped. Trent returned to the church and told the anxious Lavalland Washingtons about the police's discovery and their concerns. Despite having orchestrated over a dozen kidnappings, gang rapes, and human trafficking, Trent was still furious. It was one thing for a high-ranking police officer to break the law, but it was quite another for others to do so. Trent's own kidnapping business left him with absolutely no sympathy for other kidnappers and rapists. After all, deep down he was a cop. Decades of law enforcement had left an indelible mark on his blood. The kidnapping of a young girl on his turf was a profound blow to his pride. It was a personal insult. ********** ... "My God!" He seemed to be witnessing a miracle, almost unable to believe that the sexy bombshell before him was Federal Agent Starling. He knew, of course, that Starling was passionate in bed. But this delicate, stylish young woman was far beyond Ginny's imagination. Throwing his purse on the table, he pulled Starling into his arms, his thirsty tongue eagerly exploring her delicate mouth. The wet kiss was long, long enough for Ginny's left hand to slide from Starling's smooth shoulder to the small metal ring above her buttocks, caressing it a few times before sliding down the thin string beneath her long skirt. The two were still hungrily sucking on each other's tongues. The man's fingertips probed her full buttocks, finally finding the second ring. Suddenly, her remaining fingers gripped the thin rope, tugging it back and forth a few times. The metal ring below rubbed against her tender anus, the intense stimulation causing Starling to involuntarily wriggle her hips. Their mouths finally parted, Starling breathing slightly, turning to pour Ginny a glass of champagne. Ginny gazed lovingly at this suddenly alluring and sexy woman. As Starling poured the drink, she told him that Nora had just gone on a date, and she believed it would just be the two of them at home tonight. As Starling turned to hand the glass to Ginny, she saw the uncontrollable lust in the man's eyes. She abandoned the idea of explaining what they had for dinner, sighed, and pulled the straps of her long dress down her shoulders. The dress slid down to her waist. She deftly unhooked the bra that was clinging to her armpit and tossed it onto the table. Her full, delicate breasts stood proudly erect, the two bright red nipples shyly perking up slightly. Starling's upper body was already completely naked, her long black dress bunched around her waist, further highlighting the delicate and tenderness of her skin. Starling deliberately turned around, her back to the wide-eyed Gini, and gently pulled on the elastic waistband of her dress with both hands. Her legs were pressed together, and one of her buttocks arched back, swaying exaggeratedly from side to side, as she slowly peeled the dress down. Her snow-white, pert buttocks were gradually exposed to Gini. Such a seductive provocation made Ginny almost forget to breathe. Her long dress finally slipped to the floor, and Starling turned around, gazing lovingly at the dumbfounded man. She then leaned over and sprawled on the long table separating the kitchen and dining room, her long legs spread wide. The southern sunset streamed in through the restaurant's large windows, casting a mysterious and alluring golden glow on Starling's nearly naked body. Just ten seconds later, Ginny stood behind her, his bare buttocks exposed, his rock-hard penis aimed at Starling's crotch. He pulled the thin rope hidden in Starling's cleft aside, securing it around her buttocks, completely exposing her secret garden to him. It was already overflowing with desire, its glistening nectar visible. A large hand pressed against her smooth, soft waist and hips. The engorged glans pressed against her erect, burning labia. Starling let out a soft moan as the glans disappeared into her labia. Halfway in, Ginny suddenly jerked back, swearing. "What's wrong?" Starling, aroused, was completely bewildered. Her voice was both anxious and dissatisfied. "I forgot the condom!" Ginny retorted angrily. "Damn it." "There's one in my bedside table," Starling said, "but..." she hesitated. She knew Ginny wouldn't want to delay a moment longer. She felt the same way. Her burning labia were desperately thirsty; even a second's pause seemed unbearable. “No need this time, you can just pull it out later… Besides,” Starling’s cheeks flushed again, “I also want to… really feel it… Ah!” Ginny answered with a swift, all-encompassing thrust. The hot, soft flesh of her vagina brought out a deep, panting breath from the man. He was tightly enveloped by the tender walls of her flesh, without any gaps. After a few seconds of pause, the man seemed unable to believe how wonderful the sensation was. And without the barrier of a condom, Starling could feel every muscle, every vein of the thick penis. This unreserved, skin-to-skin contact was so real that it drove her wild. “God,” he gasped, “how long have I waited for this?”

The man slowly withdrew. The narrow, winding path felt like an incredibly soft little hand, reluctantly gripping his penis, or like a gentle little mouth, gently sucking it in, unwilling to let it go.
The prominent, extremely sensitive ridge of his glans scraped against the vaginal walls, creating an indescribable stimulation. Since he couldn't describe it, the man could only breathe heavily, leaving only his large glans at the entrance of the vagina. He steadied himself, then thrust forward, pushing most of his penis back in, all the way to the end.
This intermittent stimulation drove Starling to the brink of ecstasy. The penis's astonishing thickness, the powerful thrusting, the intense pulsation—a mixture of stimuli that Starling couldn't discern or resist. Her vagina was already melting. Waves of pleasure penetrated to her very bones, leaving Starling feeling weak and numb. She could only lower her head, humming Gini's name intermittently with the man's movements.
There were no fancy moves. The two of them sang in harmony with the rhythm of the penis. Without the barrier of a condom, the thrusting was even more stimulating. To allow the penis to penetrate deeper, Starling's entire upper body was almost entirely lying on the long table. Her breasts, which had been hanging upside down in the air, swinging alluringly back and forth with each thrust, were now pressed against the tabletop. The friction between her full nipples and the smooth surface made Starling gasp for breath.
Within minutes, the two of them were on the verge of collapse. Although all her strength had melted away, Starling unconsciously began to wiggle her hips in sync with Ginny's movements. Ginny wanted to stop and catch his breath, but Starling writhed wildly, yearning for a quick climax. The man had no choice but to grit his teeth and increase his speed, sending her to her peak.
The last ten seconds, with thirty or forty violent thrusts, sent a rush of cool air up Starling's spine to the top of her head. She tensed up, moaning loudly, the tender flesh inside her vagina throbbing rapidly and powerfully. Waves of intense pleasure washed over her entire body, from her toes to the top of her head, almost making her lose consciousness.
The man hadn't expected her orgasm to be so swift and powerful. His penis was gripped tightly by her violently convulsing vaginal canal, and the intense stimulation caused his already pent-up erection to suddenly erupt. Everything happened so fast that Ginny had no time to react. His ejaculation gushed out, and a large gush of semen, accumulated over four days, sprayed deep into Starling's vagina.
The intense pleasure made the man forget about ejaculating outside the vagina.
When he remembered and hurriedly pulled out his penis, the first two spurts of semen had already shot inside. Just as the glans left the opening, the third wave of semen landed squarely on her anus, almost completely covering the small opening. Ginny stroked his penis, spraying the remaining five or six spurts of semen onto Starling's buttocks and thighs. Now, the federal agent's nearly naked crotch was covered in a thick, white fluid.
The two streams of hot, fresh semen inside her vagina were soaking Starling, leaving her utterly disoriented. Because of an allergy to oral contraceptives, Starling usually used condoms. On the rare occasions they had sex without a condom, her partner would withdraw early, ejaculating onto her lower abdomen and thighs. She had almost forgotten the sweet taste of the fresh semen covering her vagina. Those two streams of semen prolonged her orgasm by a few seconds. Lying limp on the table, she savored the long, beautiful afterglow of her intense climax.
A minute later, having recovered, Genie gently kissed the back of Starling's neck. "Sorry, I couldn't control myself," his voice was full of apology.
Starling looked up, reached out and stroked Ginny's hair, and said softly, "Silly boy, it's okay. This is what I wanted. Besides... it's hot inside... it feels so good... I really want to put it all inside..." She propped herself up with her hands, turned her head and gave Ginny a long, tender kiss. She lazily tore off a thick tissue and wiped her messy lower body, wiping away the two streaks of semen that were slowly sliding down her inner thighs.
"Want to take a shower together?" Ginny asked.
"No need," Starling smiled playfully, "keeping that sticky stuff around makes me feel... very, very excited... You don't need to shower either, after dinner... you'll smell... manly." As she spoke, her own face turned red.
Ginny kissed her pretty little nose with immense affection, murmuring, "You little thing..."
Starling giggled and turned away, slipping to the side. She had recovered from her orgasm. Her young limbs were full of strength again. The thong was still diagonally across her left buttock. She stretched out two fingers, hooked the thin string between her thighs, and pulled it back to its original position. Despite the pulling, the thong was surprisingly intact, though it was completely soaked in the man's semen, wet and slippery. Her engorged labia hadn't fully recovered their shape, and no matter how she adjusted it, there was always something constricting it.
She sighed, pulled the thong down to mid-thigh, and then carefully pulled it back, her fingertips tugging at the panties, constantly adjusting them. This time it was much easier; both labia majora were finally enclosed. Although the small ring at the back was now pressing against the edge of the anus.
Seeing Gini staring intently at her, Starling bent down, picked up Gini's panties from the ground, and exaggeratedly brought them to her nose to smell them. "What's that smell?" she asked seriously, pointing to several still-wet stains, deliberately thrusting out her full breasts. "Agent Mayer, what do you think about while you're working?"
Gini shook his head guiltily, then suddenly stepped in front of Starling and pulled her into his arms. Under the man's large fingers, the girl's beautiful nipples bloomed once again like flowers. Starling twisted and slipped out of Genie's arms, holding the man's underwear, and ran three steps away before throwing it back to him.
"Put it on quickly, esteemed Agent, let's go roast potatoes in the yard. Your poor female colleague is about to starve." As she spoke, she picked up her bra, thought for a moment, then tossed it aside, grabbed her long skirt, and quickly put it on.
Genie hastily dressed and left the kitchen. Starling got up to prepare the salad. The thong, soaked with semen, felt cold and uncomfortable against her crotch. Starling couldn't help but regret buying only one pair. Remembering that she didn't have a second pair of underwear that matched the style and color of her long skirt, she had no choice but to make do for the night.
Without a bra, the cleavage wasn't so intimidating. Beneath the thin silk, her breasts, freshly moistened by the passion of lovemaking, lay unrestrained, swaying wildly with every step.
June 19th, Friday, 7:40 PM Mexican time .
In a mansion nestled on a hillside overlooking the Gulf of Mexico, Rodriguez was on the phone discussing an important deal.
He was the smallest of Mexico's leading human traffickers, operating only seven brothels. Mexicans themselves had limited spending power, and the main clientele of brothels, especially high-end ones, came primarily from North America and Europe. Under pressure from the United States, Mexican police had recently dismantled three sex slave and brothel rings, making wealthy international clients feel that Mexico was no longer a paradise for unbridled pleasure.
The brothel business was severely impacted as a result. The domestic brothel market was nearing saturation. Rodriguez, who considered himself superior, had already set his sights on the truly international market: the sex slave trade. This market was worth six or seven billion US dollars annually, with astonishing profits. Moreover, due to continuous advancements in transportation and payment methods, as well as the boost from international tourism, the international sex slave market was expanding rapidly. An internal report from the US FBI, which he purchased at a high price, predicted that the total value of the international sex slave trade might exceed ten billion US dollars by 2000.
Rodriguez wasn't particularly interested in the official US figures. He was concerned with how to carve out his own slice of this huge pie. His main advantage lay in a well-developed and efficient underground trafficking network. This network spanned North America and also connected with the Middle East, South America, and Eastern Europe. Mexico's proximity to the United States provided a geographical advantage, allowing him to easily sell sex slaves from around the world (mainly from Eastern Europe and Southeast Asia) into the US, while also selling some American girls overseas.
American girls were generally more valuable; the most expensive could fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars. Of course, that depended on luck.
Like other human traffickers, Rodriguez also had a respectable profession: he was the chairman of a film and television company, owning nearly 60 percent of the shares. His company didn't participate in direct film and television production, but rather purchased copyrights, selling Mexican television dramas to South America and Africa. In fact, this line of work could be profitable if done diligently. However, the profits were far less than his human trafficking business.
The international sex slave market was equally competitive. Rodriguez's ability to establish himself was mainly due to a clever little invention. Previously, transnational sex slave transactions either involved in-person inspection or pricing based on photographs from afar. Having studied advertising in the United States, Rodriguez firmly believed in the power of advertising. He discovered that if each girl was treated like a big star, and a short film was meticulously produced, highlighting her beauty and sexual prowess, such product advertisements would greatly stimulate the interest of potential buyers. Prices could often double, or even exceed.
With his connections, he could easily find talented but impoverished young directors. Give them twenty or thirty thousand dollars, and some of them could create truly amazing masterpieces. Rodriguez's first four product advertisements were all well-produced, not only attracting overseas buyers who were willing to pay high prices, but also inspiring some to collect these short films. An old hand even asked him for a few copies of the films.
The shrewd Rodriguez quickly realized that this was yet another golden goose. After successfully selling a sex slave, why not sell her adult films as well, making a couple more profit?
Of course, he'd discuss it with the buyer first. Only after the buyer agreed would the film enter the market. There are some buyers you'd better never offend.
In the American black market, truly good stuff always fetches a high price.
A videotape of soldiers gang-raping female students during the raging Yugoslav Wars could sell for eight thousand dollars on the American market. And how much did it cost to make? He had such a tape. In his opinion, the quality of the film was far inferior to his product advertisement. His own adult films, with the right plot and embellishments, became excellent black market commodities.
Rodriguez certainly had a good eye. Those little films sold extremely well. Later, Rodriguez discovered that unsold sex slaves could also be advertised using little films. What would a guy who bought the little films and watched them obsessively think if he knew that he only needed to spend a day in Mexico to have a chance to sleep with that captivating leading lady?
As long as he was careful enough not to attract the police and the FBI, this was another lucrative deal!
In the twilight, he was negotiating the price of the latest batch of little films with Americans. The American girls he had were much prettier than those poor Croat schoolgirls. And the rape scenes he filmed looked more realistic than those war documentaries. No wonder, those actresses were being raped, after all. And it was in a top-notch underground studio. Everything was filmed crystal clear, the sound was recorded flawlessly, and with meticulous editing, how could it not be thrilling?
Rodriguez's direction didn't demand much acting from the actresses; they just needed to portray themselves before being kidnapped. For example, the female lawyer played a lawyer, the female stock analyst played a stock analyst, and the pretty female reporter, of course, played a reporter.
The story didn't need to be complicated. An American girl came to Mexico for various reasons—vacation, reporting, or investment. Then she accidentally fell into the hands of gangsters and suffered horrific abuse. Whether it was kidnapping or gang rape, the key was to create the atmosphere. The acting had to be convincing, and the environment had to be realistic.
For example, the last story that fetched a high price was that of the female journalist. In the short film, she was a TV reporter in Los Angeles. They smuggled the girl back to LA and had her conduct interviews on the sidewalks of downtown for two days. They rented a nice apartment for her and even found her a boyfriend. The two had a romantic dinner at a famous French restaurant in downtown LA. The boyfriend was incredibly strong in bed, and when they got home, he made the journalist feel like she was dying.
During location shooting in LA, like those American girls who had been thoroughly subdued and were already desperate, the only trouble the former journalist caused the bodyguards was that she would often break down in tears when not filming. However, after suffering a little physical pain, she would immediately become obedient and submit to their will. She knew the terrible consequences of disobeying.
As for escaping? The mere thought would terrify her and leave her paralyzed.
After filming La was completed, the female reporter was smuggled back to Mexico. She spent another day reporting in Mexico City. Then she arrived at the town where she had been kidnapped. Then, the real show began: a kidnapping by drug cartel members. After that, it was the usual cliché. S&M and group sex all came together.
"How many scenes of bestiality are there?" the American on the other end of the phone asked. He was asking about Rodriguez's latest film. The protagonist was an Asian female lawyer who had just graduated from law school, who was kidnapped by several black men while jogging in a small forest next to her house one morning. After the black men got tired of her, they sold her to Mexico. She'd only been transferred to Rodriguez's office a month ago. With her slender eyes and petite figure, even Rodriguez found the lawyer incredibly sexy.
"Fourteen, six minutes and thirty seconds, two dogs," Rodriguez said, checking the list in his hand. He didn't find the Americans unreasonable at all. Business is business. And this deal was substantial. Ten short films, six leading ladies, eight hundred uncopyable videotapes, two hundred thousand dollars. Who wouldn't be careful?
"Alright, I'll be ready Monday night."
"Excellent." Rodriguez took a puff of his cigar. "You know, this is a sure thing for you. Three of the girls are farewell acts."
"Oh, you've found another buyer? Where this time? The Middle East again?"
"Old friend," Rodriguez frowned, "Whether they're sold to Iran, Egypt, or Thailand, or killed for animal feed, they're not making films anymore. You can relax and make your money."
**************************************
Friday, June 19th, Central Time, 9:25 PM, New Orleans.
Starling was thoroughly enjoying her dinner. Compared to the fast food at the motels along the highway, the roast potatoes and roast beef were heavenly. A satisfying sexual encounter can also whet the appetite, "like swimming a mile." Genie's gaze turned lecherous again. They had just finished eating when the phone rang. Starling sincerely hoped the call wouldn't take too long.
She was wrong.
On the other end was the Beverly Hills detective who had helped Genie track down the suspicious luxury car. He had found a missing Ferrari. His team had investigated all recently registered Ferraris of the same year and model, and after finding the car, they checked the engine's Uniform Vehicle Identification Number. The whole process was extremely monotonous and tedious, but their patience finally paid off. The car now belonged to a rental company that specialized in renting out rare sports cars to Hollywood stars.
FBI agents have at least a hundred ways to persuade honest American citizens to cooperate with the FBI without reservation. The car rental shop owner and manager quickly gave up resistance and revealed the seller's name. Last night, the seller was taken to the police station. The police generously suggested that he tell them where the car came from, and in exchange, if his testimony was valid, they would not prosecute him.
This afternoon, exhausted from not sleeping all night, the seller named a repair shop in Jackson County, Mississippi. It seemed to be a black market vehicle dealership.

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The Rose's Calamity (Chapters 6-10)

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