What a sweet young fuck she would make, Olaf smiled, if only he could have put it to her the way he wanted. Jack Thompson was a novice at all this. He didn't really know how to get to these bitches, how they groaned over a man shoving his wet mouth between their legs and licking his tongue into their hot moist little pussies. Thompson probably didn't even know you could make a bitch cum like that, just by playing with her splayed-open vagina a little with your hands and then running your tongue into the soft curls of her pubic hair until you had found the small erect bud of their clitoris.

But now the bastard had cum and all the fun was all over, Olaf thought as he took one last look at the ravished young bride, one of her breasts standing out, still red and hard at the nipple from her husband's insane gnawing and sucking.

The Swede had moved from the wall and walked slowly to the window overlooking the street to the bay of Palma. After three years as a menial desk clerk, he was ready for a drastic change. His demeaning job was not in keeping with the expectations he had when arriving in Mallorca five years ago. At that time, he had imagined himself becoming an instant success in any number of deals connected with the booming tourist trade on the island. But his optimism had vanished as he watched his meager savings squandered away on foolish enterprises. In the past year, things had grown worse as he had fallen into the company of Palma's "low life," men who operated mainly at night and whose incomes were made through illicit trade, smuggling and prostitution.