She was looking at Paul like her husband had just brought a mangy mongrel dog onto the estate.I can play that game as well as anybody and so we exchanged the sort of polite introductions that established that both of us thought the other one wasn’t quite up to snuff.I was wearing an Empire waist Jane Austen style linen dress, which showed off more cleavage than I really wanted to display. But I liked the effect that it had on both of our hosts.“Mal”, as he insisted I call him, did everything but leave a rope of drool across my tits. His wife Penelope, not Penny, smiled frigidly and looked like she wanted to burn me at the stake.Paul and Mal went through some sort of extended “guy” ritual with far too much hugging, back slapping and guffawing for my taste. The one thing I got out of it was that Paul clearly worshiped the ground this guy walked on.Mal put his arm around ME and more or less dragged me off the porch and into the foyer of the manor house. I was afraid his wife wouldn’t be. It was the first week of August that Betty stayed all week. By the second Saturday business had doubled at the bar. By the second week of her stay, the motel was seeing half the rooms filled. Word of mouth among the peddlers, and other road warriors, brought more business each night.At the pool, Lynn said to Betty. "How much money do you make?" Standard rates for salesman." What is that?" Ten for a blow job. Twenty-five for fifteen minutes of missionary. Fifty for a half hour, and you can use my butt. One hundred for you and your buddies to use me for two hours."Lynn's mouth opened wide in awe. Her hand rose to cover her mouth. "Betty, How much money do you make a night?" Not that much. You are not very busy yet. But it is getting better. I'm averaging one hundred and ten dollars a night." You have made fourteen hundred dollars since you have come her?" Lynn hissed.Betty nodded, and then said, "Lynn, you will need to get a couple girls down here. I have to take a week off and go see.
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