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A teasing send-off and then involving the wife.
'After you,' he invited with a sweep of an arm. Quin watched Adele's plump bottom when the girl moved past him uncertainly, his hand moving to his groin.
The old man was still squeezing himself through his trousers when Adele turned to face him.
'What are you doing?' she asked, aghast. 'Oh, God,' the girl moaned. 'I don't want to be here. This is just ...'
Quin moved into the room. 'I'm sorry ... 'It's ... You're ...' He sighed resignedly. 'I can't help it,' he in a voice thick and treacly with lust. 'Looking at you, so ... so ...' he touched himself again, a low moan escaping from between his lips. 'I'm an old man and it's been such a long time since I've seen a girl as ...' The whine came again. Quin's hand squeezed harder as his desperation grew. 'You're just so delicious.'
He stepped towards Adele. The girl, her eyes widening in fear, stepped back, away from Quin's lecherous advance.
'Don't,' Adele said, her face twisting with anxiety, hands coming up to ward off any attack.
The old man, apparently realising he was scaring the girl, halted.
'I'm sorry,' he repeated, shaking his head as though clearing away the insanity. 'I ... I wouldn't hurt you.'
The pair stared at each other for a long moment, Adele's eyes wary, while Quin's expression told of a primordial yearning. The old man craved youthful, unblemished flesh.
'How old are you?' he croaked, and groaned as though in physical pain at the reply.
'Fifty pounds,' Quin said, 'to take your top off ...' he explained, nodding towards Adele. I'll give you fifty pound in cash.'
Quin turned when he heard the voice from behind. 'You're just an old pervert, aren't you?' Becky stood there, a tray balanced on one hand. 'It took me ages to find the fucking tray.' She gave Quin a hard look. 'And when I finally found it I then find you offering my friend money so you can perv at her tits.' Quin swallowed heavily while Becky spoke past him. 'What do you reckon, Adele? You willing to give him a look at your tits for fifty quid?'
'I ... I don't want to,' Adele replied, her hands clasped protectively across her body.
Becky walked into the room. She placed the tray down on a table. 'Vodka,' she said, holding a glass to her friend. 'Take it.' Adele circled around Quin and took the glass. 'Mr Quin?' Becky asked, offering a glass to the old man. 'Now,' she said, swigging at her own drink. 'How much would you pay for me to take my knickers off, Mr Quin? How much to look up my skirt?' The girl looked down, smirking at the irony. 'Not that it's much of a skirt,' she added.
'Keep the stockings and shoes on,' Quin said, his voice cracking. His hand trembled as he swigged at the vodka. 'Keep the little apron on, but take off the skirt and your knickers ...'
Becky's voice was barely audible. 'How much?'
'I've got to ... I need to ... please.' Quin stared at Becky's exposed pudenda when the girl, divested of the clothing Quin had listed, faced him. 'Dear god,' he blurted. 'Smooth, smooth pussy ...' His eyes implored an implacable Becky. 'I want to touch myself,' he whispered, finally.
Becky laughed. 'You mucky old bastard,' she scoffed, her voice filled with derision. 'You'll be wanting pictures next ...' She regarded her friend who still stood, wide-eyed and afraid next to her. 'What do you think, Adele? Shall we watch the perv pull his plonker? Do you reckon he can get it up?'
'Becky ...' Adele whispered, her face shocked. 'It's getting out of hand,' she continued tremulously. 'Cover yourself up. Don't let him look at you like that. It's wrong. It's disgusting.'
'A hundred quid on top of the fifty for me flashing my pussy,' Becky said to Quin. 'And I'll convince her,' she nodded towards Adele,' to take that bikini top off.' A gulp and a nod from Quin and Becky turned to Adele. 'Come on,' she urged. 'You've been topless on holiday before. Everyone saw your tits in Magaluff. Even in the bars at night ... Come on, Adele,' she coaxed softly. 'He'll pay a hundred pounds to look at them ...'
Adele put her empty glass next to Becky's on the table