When they finally emerged from the shower stall rotunda, Tasìa's clothes still had a few minutes left to cycle. Her boots, though, had been completely cleaned in the drywash side-attachment.
She grabbed the pair and rubbed the croc leather against her face. They once more smelled as fresh as the day she bought them.
Tasìa frowned.
A mere four days ago!
Beauregard laughed.
"Did you just swallow a porcupine? You look like you did."
For one word, the object noun, he slipped into English.
A funny sounding word at that.
"A what now?"
"Coendous!"
Tasìa shook her head.
"Ah! Nah. I'm just beating myself up for my bad habit of dressing in my finest duds even when I know I am about to get into some deep shit. My attitude is always, 'fuck it, I'll just buy another cool pair,' when I'm expecting to rumble, but then, after blood gets drawn, I get emotionally attached to the boots, or jeans, or shirt, given we've been through some shit together."
Beauregard chuckled. He put his hands on her shoulders.
"I love the fact that you are so ..."
Tasìa's toss of head, lobbed in a defiant stance, made him switch out the word he meant to say for a more neutral sounding one.
"... idiosyncratic."
"You mean, weird?"
Beauregard leaned his head into her own.
"Well, the point is, you'll never have to beat yourself up again. I have a wooden paddle in my study. I'll whoop your bottom 'til your heart is content and your cheeks are blistered red if that is what it takes to assuage those negative thoughts that you are prone to waddle."
Tasìa grinned and nodded. He passed the shit test.
"That sounds quite lovely, maybe next time."
The bell went off in a tense beat for the dry cycle. Her clothes - thermal, anti-wetness layered socks, French cut panties, sports bra, jeans, tank top, bandanna bearing the Paraguay flag - dispensed out of the exit of rollers neatly folded.
She stared at them, a bit pissed and annoyed.
Now, she would have to put them all back on. Tasia was highly reticent to do so as she enjoyed strutting around in the buff for a man who liked what he saw.
To her delight, she discovered while she turned her head towards the mirrored wall to see what Beauregard could possibly see in her, the buns of her brown little muscle butt appeared much shapelier in the altogether without a stitch on them to flatten their supple, double contours than she ever expected.
Maybe it's just good lighting.
Stolen novel; please report.
Then with reluctance, recalling her purpose in the greater scheme of things, she shook off her mood to indulgently idle away her time. No matter how badly she deserved it after all the shit she had been put through ...
... fun time was over, and Alisha was waiting.
Tasìa looked at Beauregard. His eyes displayed the same reluctance to give in to the powers that be over them that she was now feeling.
This, what we have here, is what really matters.
She couldn't disappoint those big, sad puppy dog-like eyes.
Fuck it! Fun time was decidedly not over!
She reached up, hung on to her big, sezzy American beefcake by his thick neck, and kissed him once more.
He lifted her, placed her neatly on the hood of the Clothes Cycler Unit, pushed her thighs up against her belly until she was bottoms up and ready to receive.
Tasìa giggled.
We haven't done it this way before. This ought to be interesting!
"Okay. But we have to make this one really, really quick."
Once Tasìa and Beauregard finally emerged from the shower room she merged back into the world at large, and immediately realized that they really did take their sweet-ass time with the sex play.
"Oh shit," Tasìa whispered.
Annebél slept on one end of the couch, snoring merrily away while Alisha slept on the other. The Arizona lass' lips, sharp and creased, made little puff motions up in the air.
At rest, in complete submission to slumber, the arch-hustler was truly a cutie-pie.
Tasìa checked the time on Val's PA.
"Ah shit, man! We've been going at it for more than an hour."
A sudden voice from behind her made Tasìa tense up.
"You can let them sleep," Demona said. "The two of us can pull this off. All we need is a multi-tool and high yield bug spray concentrate."
Demona stood by the side of Tasìa and Beauregard dressed in an olive green blouse and matching pair of capris with a scarf and straw bonnie hat for flourish. Her feet were adorned in low healed brown leather Bontoni's.
She caught Tasìa staring at her outfit.
"You like? I purchased it off of an avatar VR wears site for an old school MMO. I thought it would appear less incongruent on me if we should engage in strenuous activities further on."
Tasìa nodded her head in approval.
"Le chic très utilitaire," she complemented.
Demona stood with her hands playfully behind her waist as she posed.
"That is precisely the look I was going for."
Beauregard appeared befuddled at their exchange as he could only see and hear Tasìa's side of it but he still made an informed and accurate guess.
"Is that Heloïste? When we were dating, Alisha would disappear into her devices speaking hours on end with Heloïste. They could have hosted a casting duo together and titled it, Girl Talk & Spy Stuff."
Demona chuckled.
"He's too funny." She commented, and then as she turned to speak to Tasìa a rap knocked lightly on Beauregard's door.
"Shit," Tasìa whispered.
Beauregard removed a 9mm snub-nose from his back pocket, and fed a clip into its magazine.
"I'll handle it," he stated, flatly. "Slip out the back through the guest's bedroom window. If they're Alisha's regular crew they'll want to stick around and shoot the shit like the good ol' days."
Tasìa headed for the guest's bedroom, and shut the door behind her. She could hear Beauregard greeting the crew as he spoke, loudly.
"Hey, what the fuck man! Long time no see. Alisha get your butt up, you've got company."
As Tasìa pressed her ear against the door, she heard two new voices, one definitely that of Travis, chortling it up with Beauregard with a great deal of familiarity between all parties.
The other voice's deeper baritone she did not recognize, but whoever it was Beauregard sounded genuinely happy to see him.
Satisfied that everything was going peachy-keen in the other room, Tasìa stood, and quietly headed towards the window.
Before she could cross the room, however, Demona appeared and stood in her way to stop her from going any further.
"I don't like it. Something isn't right about this," she warned Tasìa. "There is a third member of their party out there skulking around in the back yard."
Tasìa held her breath in check to gather greater awareness from out of the silence.
A dabble of light dispersed through the thick curtain fabric in a flash of tinted red.
It disappeared just as suddenly as it had formed.
With hand gestures, Tasìa commanded the AR riding goggles to expand its spectrum range to scan passed the visible frequency and interpolate the data stream it gathered to be accessible to her senses.
Now visible to her eyes, a laser light held steady as it hit the back wall of the bedroom opposite from the bottom window pane.
She could clearly see a bulky figure made visible in IR.
He stood there just yards outside from the window, waiting for her to open it.