Devil to Pay by Gardner Francis Fox

Author:Gardner Francis Fox [Fox, Gardner Francis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: femme fatale, Secret agent, sexectioner
Publisher: Gardner Francis Fox Library LLC
Published: 2021-10-16T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

I slid across the bed. Now I was naked from my navel downward and no man has ever seen me like that and not shown a great deal of interest. Raoul Luchine was an exception. He just sat there and stared at the floor.

Naturally, I stared at the floor myself, wanting to discover what was so damn interesting about it. I saw the worn carpeting, the wooden floorboards where the carpet didn’t cover them, and I got mad.

I stood up and lifted off the baby-doll nightie.

Raoul flicked his eyes at me. His stare centered on my big breasts. He didn’t know I was looking at him, but his tongue came out to run around his lips. I gave a little shiver, which made my knockers jump. His eyes sort of lighted up.

Well, now. Maybe my French friend was a tit man.

Men can be divided into categories, you know, where it comes to sex.

So I paraded around bare naked, with my lolos shaking nicely, and with Raoul staring at them, his mouth open. My nipples were long and hard, showing that I myself was not utterly indifferent to this bit of voyeurism.

I just couldn’t stand around there naked, I reasoned, so I got out a pair of stockings and a garter-belt and sat on the edge of the bed to put the stockings on and wrap the garter-belt about my middle.

Raoul was making faint, choking sounds by this time. His eyes were bulging, and his face was red.

“You—you’d better—I’d better leave…”

I glanced at him, smiling. “You say something, Raoul?”

He was standing up, in more ways than one. His bathrobe was unbelted and hung open. Under it he was wearing pajamas and it was a good thing those pajama trousers were sort of baggy. They gave a part of him a chance to grow. And did he ever!

I even paused a moment in rolling up my nylon to stare at it. I said softly, “You’re quite a man, Raoul.”

“Wha—what? Ohhh—sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. It just means you’re rather healthy.”

His eyes were on the juncture between my thighs. It came to my mind that he might not be a breast man, after all, judging by his interest in my other girlish qualities.

I paid him no never-mind as I went about drawing on my nylons and attaching them to the garter-belt. I put out my legs, wriggling my toes and making certain that the stockings fit me like a skin. Raoul went on masking sounds.

I stood and walked across the room, naked except for what I had put on. I let my buttocks jiggle and my breasts sway lazily. I stood a moment before the chiffonier, debating about wearing a bra or a slip. I turned and glanced back at Raoul.

“What do you think?” I asked.

He hadn’t the slightest idea what I was talking about. His stare was riveted on my behind, which I must admit is saucily plump and tenderly pink. I had to speak twice more before he heard me.

Even then,

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