X squared minus H over P

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Disclaimers: Yes, I need an editor; no, I do not want an editor. Yes, it jumps around too much. Yes there's too many people to keep track of. Yes, it's too long. Yes, it's not long enough. Yes, it's in the wrong category. Yes this is stupid shit and yes, I am a horrible writer, barely legible, hardly literate.

For those of you that have not hit the backspace key, I hope you enjoy this tale.

*****

Chapter One

Stepping into the lobby of the Mexican hotel, Paige saw him. Matthew Priestly, her former boyfriend.

"Matt!" she cried out and released the hand of her new husband, Roger Taylor James.

"Mattie! What are you doing here?" she called out and the handsome young man smiled as she approached.

"Aw come on girl!" Matt laughed. "You know Mike and I always come here every year do our deep sea fishing."

"He's here? Mikey's here?" Paige squealed as she wrapped her limbs around Matthew.

"Right behind you," Michael Priestly laughed.

Paige pulled her lips from Matt's lips and wrapped herself around Michael.

The two kissed passionately.

"Y'all already all checked in?" she asked.

"Yeah, got the same suite," Matt assured the young woman.

"Uh, Honey?" Roger asked.

Ignoring the scrawny young man, Paige wrapped her arms around the waists of the two brothers as they guided her toward the elevators.

And the newlywed left her husband standing in the lobby with their luggage as she went up to Suite 1501.

"No shit? You're here on your Honeymoon?" Matt asked as his hand dropped to fondle her luscious bottom.

"Uh huh," Paige said and kissed him deeply.

She then waggled her white gold wedding band and white gold engagement ring. The engagement ring had a one carat diamond flanked by a circle of quarter carat emeralds.

Mike didn't say anything about her rings as he fondled her other buttock.

Mike had always been jealous of his older brother for dating the gorgeous cheerleader.

Paige Woods stood at five foot six, with 36DD breasts, a 28 inch waist, and 35 inch hips. Her ass was a perfect heart shaped ass; and Paige wore clothing to emphasize her beautiful body.

Then when Matt dumped Paige to start dating Chelsea Myers, a gorgeous African-American girl, a girl from a good family, a proper family, Paige had tearfully turned to Mike for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.

That shoulder to cry on turned into a cock to suck on and Paige lost little time in wrapping her pouting lips around Mike's fat cock.

She also wrapped her puffy pussy lips around his cock, then after a little coaxing, her tight anal ring around his cock.

Then Mike had also dumped Paige to start dating Annie Flynn, a sweet, innocent eighteen year old daughter of a business associate of his father's.

From there, Paige had turned to Roger Taylor James for a shoulder to cry on. The scrawny Teacher's Aide could scarcely believe his luck in landing the gorgeous blonde; he had been a nerd, a dork all of his life. Beautiful nineteen year old cheerleaders did not throw themselves at the twenty one year old Graduate student.

Now, Chelsea Priestly and Annie Priestly were at home in Sweet Oak, Texas while their husbands went down to the sleepy little Mexican villa for their annual Thanksgiving Deep Sea fishing expedition.

The brothers had planned on picking up a few Mexican whores, the sleepy little town had no shortage of women that would suck and fuck for a few American dollars. But Paige would suck and fuck them and would do so for free.

Neither brother, nor Paige gave any thought to Paige's husband as they left a trail of clothing from the door of the suite to the bedroom.

Neither brother was given to performing much foreplay but Paige didn't need foreplay; her pussy was already glistening with her excitement as she fell onto the bed, legs spread wide.

Matt buried his fat cock into her pussy in one thrust, then he rolled over, pulling her with him.

Mike presented his cock to her perfect lips and Paige swallowed him down to the root.

Neither brother gave much thought to Paige's enjoyment; to them she was just a whore. Neither brother would ever dream of treating their wives as callously as they used Paige.

Two hours later, when their waiter wheeled their dinner into the suite, the young man was treated to the sight of a nude Paige James, semen dripping from her pussy and ass, semen coating her heavy breasts and light brown areola.

As the young man goggled at her, Paige smiled proudly. Then she rolled onto her knees and crawled across the bed toward the cart of food.

"Thanks; I'm starving," she cooed as Matt and Mike smiled at the young employee's consternation.

Chapter Two

A different waiter brought the trio an early breakfast. He looked, face bland, hiding his disgust as the gringo bitch walked nude from bedroom to bathroom.

Then the hotel employee reminded the two young men of their chartered boat.

"Oh shit, yeah, what time is it?" Mike asked.

He then repeated the question in Spanish, even though the hotel employee had addressed them in English.

"Time now? It is ten minutes after five," the man said.

"Hey Paige? Boat leaves in about twenty minutes," Matt called out.

"Oh, I come with y'all?" Paige asked through the door.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Matt answered. "I mean, shit, all we're going be doing is fishing but sure."

Paige hurriedly dressed in her sleeveless blouse and khaki shorts, found her flip flops and went down to the lobby to find out what room her husband had checked them into.

But when the elevator opened into the lobby, Paige saw that one of the small shops had a beautiful bikini on display. So, she strolled into the small shop, smiled at the tired looking woman and bought herself a sexy bikini and a long tee shirt with the name of the hotel emblazoned on it and returned to 1501.

The cab ride down to the dock was a lively one. Paige sat between the two brothers and did some harmless flirting with the cab driver.

The crew welcomed her and the brothers aboard, along with the three other passengers that had chartered the boat.

Once the sun had risen, baking the deck of the boat, Paige caused a few whistles and groans as she casually shrugged out of the long tee shirt and revealed the skimpy cheetah print bikini.

Her long blonde hair had been pulled back into a simple pony tail, but after liberally applying lotion to her body, she pulled the band out of her hair and shook it loose.

"Honey, need me put some sun block on you, just say the word," an older man said, Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Aw, thanks, Sugar," Paige simpered.

After a few hours, Paige was bored. Even after removing her bikini top, all but the old man were more interested in the fishing than in her.

The diesel smell and the constant rocking and swaying of the boat also did not agree with her and she promptly vomited over the side of the boat and very nearly fell into the water.

So, when the boat finally returned to the dock, Paige announced that she would not be going again.

She was disappointed, and a little miffed that neither Mike nor Matt seemed particularly upset that she'd decided she would not join them the next day.

Flirting with the old guy that had paid more attention to her than to his fishing also did not upset Mike or Matt.

"Honey, that husband of yours don't treat you right?" Virgil Huxton, the older man said, large Adam's apple bobbing. "I'm in the Hacienda Del Sol, room two ten, hear?"

Sunburned, sweaty, and unhappy, Paige returned with Matt and Mike to their suite. She grabbed her shorts, blouse and undergarments and shoved them into the plastic bag her bikini and tee shirt had come in and left their suite.

Once again in the lobby, Paige strolled over to the reception desk. A young man smiled professionally and greeted her in English.

"Paige Woods, I mean James," she said wearily.

The man typed the information into his computer, looked at his screen, then shook his head no.

"Oh, duh, under Roger James," Paige said tersely.

The young man again typed and again shook his head no.

"Look Paige and Roger James; we're here on our honeymoon," Paige snapped.

"I am sorry, senorita, I do not have a Roger James or a Paige James staying here," the man apologized.

"Fine, just give me a room," Paige snapped.

"Senorita? I am terribly sorry," the man again apologized.

"Problem?" an older man asked.

In rapid Spanish, the young man told his manager the woman wished a room.

"Senorita, I am terribly sorry, but we are completely booked," the older man said.

"The fishing, is very good," the younger man supplied.

"I've had it; it ain't that great," Paige snapped.

She stepped aside and pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

"God damned Roger, you are going to..." she snarled as she punched the number 7 to dial Roger's cell number.

A moment later, Roger's cheerful voice implored her to leave a message; he would return the call as soon as he returned from his honeymoon.

"Won't be no fucking honeymoon you don't return my fucking call," she spat into the phone.

She strolled about the lobby, looking at the small shops that rented space from the hotel, then tried Roger's cell phone again.

Again, she got his cheerful voice mail.

She then went into the small café across the street and had a light dinner; her stomach was still a little queasy from her deep sea fishing adventure.

A third attempt to reach Roger met with the same cheerful voice mail and Paige snarled into the phone that he had better call her back in the next five seconds or he could just kiss her ass good bye.

Then she walked back across the street, into the lobby, and to the elevators.

At Room 1501, she knocked. A few minutes later, she knocked again.

"Yeah?" Matt's voice called through the door.

"Mattie, its Paige, fucking Roger, can't find his stupid ass," Paige called back.

"I uh, huh uh Paige, we, we're kind of busy," Matt said after opening the door slightly.

Then Paige heard a woman's giggle.

"Really?" she snarled at Matt. "I'm not even gone five fucking minutes and y'all get a bunch of whores up here?"

"Yeah well..." Matt shrugged, smiling.

"Fuck you," Paige spat and Matt smiled and shut the door.

Chapter 3

Paige tried Roger's cell phone one more time, then tried to remember where that weird old guy had said he was staying.

"The Hacienda something," she asked the desk clerk.

He named a few hotels that had 'Hacienda' in their names.

"That's it," Paige smiled in relief when he named the 'Hacienda Del Sol.'

"Ah yes senorita, just down this street, is maybe three streets then will be on your left," he smiled.

Finding the hotel had been easy enough, but then Paige had to remember what room the man had said he would be in.

Fortunately for Paige, Professor Virgil Huston was dining in the hotel's restaurant. She spotted the tall, lanky man and strolled over to his table. A waiter did try to cut her off but Paige deftly dodged the employee.

"Hi Sugar, remember me?" she cooed, turning up the charm.

"Hi I uh, well yeah I remember you," Virgil Huxton swallowed several times, quite nervously.

He was an Algebra teacher, a professor of mathematics at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. He was one of the most despised teachers on the campus of the small university. As a result, pretty women did not normally talk to him.

"Senor, I am terribly sorry," the waiter apologized, reaching for Paige.

"Oh, no, no Manuel; the senorita is my guest," Virgil claimed.

"Oh? Oh! Senorita, I apologize, here, here, you care for the drink?" the waiter said, pulling out a chair for Paige.

"Thank you; whatever he's having," Paige agreed.

She did beg off of eating, though; she'd already had a light meal.

"So uh, I mean, uh, where's your husband?" Virgil asked.

"Beats me; fucker just left me here," Paige spat angrily.

"What? Those two, I mean, one of them is your husband, right?" Virgil asked.

"Huh? Oh, no, no, Mattie and Mikey? No, they're just old boyfriends of mine," Paige smiled, sipping her drink.

"So your husband got mad about you going fishing with them?" Virgil asked and nodded approval as his baked fish came to the table.

"Can we, I uh, I'd rather not talk about it out here," Paige confided.

So Virgil did something he rarely got to do, he talked about himself.

"U.L.D?" Paige said, sunburned face twisted in a playful sneer. "Boo! I'm a sophomore at Connelly. Go Cougars!"

"Uh huh, and the U.L.D. Storm spanked them uh, let's see, in football, in basketball, in women's' basketball, and in golf," Virgil smiled.

"Yeah, but we kicked your butts in field hockey, oh, and women's soccer," Paige pointed out.

"What? Soccer's not even a real sport," Virgil taunted.

"Senor! Oh, but I am offended!" their waiter mock-huffed. "I am the goalie for the Hacienda Del Sol Sunblazers!"

"And a damned fine goalie, I'm sure," Virgil smiled and Manuel flashed a brilliant smile.

"But, really? You're a math teacher?" Paige asked. "Roger's a math teacher too."

"Roger James, as in Roger T. James, winner of the Neidelhorn Grant?" Virgil asked.

"That's him!" Paige said, almost proudly.

She waggled her expensive engagement ring and wedding band at the man.

"Grant paid for this," she said.

"Sweetheart, you really should have used some sun block," Virgil commented, looking at Paige's nearly lobster red face.

"Yeah, well," Paige shrugged.

Manuel managed to procure a small container of vinegar for the professor.

Then, after paying the bill and leaving a generous tip, Virgil ushered Paige toward the elevator.

"Okay, Sweetheart, take a shower, as hot as you can stand it," Virgil said. "I'm serious; scalding hot, all right?"

"Hot? Thought you were supposed to do cool water," Paige said and dropped her clothing on the floor.

She smiled as Virgil's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Uh, no, I uh, no, I was in the Navy and uh, this is how we did it," Virgil croaked, Adam's apple bobbing wildly.

"Okay, you're the boss," Paige smiled and strolled to the bathroom.

He followed her into the small room and Paige smiled and made a show of bending over to adjust the taps.

"Hot as you can stand it," Virgil reminded her, gawking at her luscious rear end and light brown anus and pink pussy lips.

He found the hotel's coffee pot and located a sugar packet.

"Here, cup your hands together, catch some water," he instructed.

Paige did so and Virgil poured the sugar into her hand.

Rub your hands together, then rub your face with that," he said.

He stepped out of the small bathroom.

"I'll be right out here when you're done," he said.

"Aw, Sugar, you not going wash my back?" Paige cooed.

"Sunburned as it is? You're not going want me touching it," Virgil said and shut the door.

Paige nearly screamed as the syrup of sugar scraped her face and the scalding hot water burned her skin.

She then used his shampoo and soap. Then she looked at the bathroom counter and saw his razor blade.

Both Mattie and Mikey used electric razors and her own razor and shave gel was in her suitcase, wherever that was. So she quickly shaved her legs and underarms.

Then she shut off the stinging spray.

"All right, lay down," Virgil said.

"Whoa, right to it, huh?" Paige giggled.

"Paige, Honey, this isn't going to be fun," Virgil warned.

He then used a wad of the hotel's cheap toilet paper, dampened it with the vinegar and began to sponge her flesh.

"Ew, that stinks!" Paige complained, shrinking away.

"Uh huh," Virgil agreed.

After he'd treated her flesh, he opened a can of beer, sat next to her on the bed and drank deeply.

"So, tell me why your husband up and left you here," he said.

Paige roused slightly; she'd nearly been asleep.

"Got married at Redemption Baptist Church; that's in Great Oak, Texas; that's where I'm from," Paige said.

She smiled as she remembered the ceremony. Her dress had been beautiful; Roger had spent nearly nine hundred dollars on it. Then they'd gone to Heritage Country Club in Great Oak. Neither she nor Roger were members, but Roger's step-father was and so they managed to rent one of the smaller banquet rooms for themselves and their twenty seven guests.

"Then drove like hell get to Houston and stayed the night at the Holiday Inn Express, right there by the airport?" Paige said. "Can I have a beer?"

"Thought Baptists didn't drink," Virgil commented but did get her a beer.

"Anyway," Paige said after guzzling half the beer. "Got here Sunday and I saw Mattie and Mikey in the lobby; I used to go out with them while back and went up to them and said 'Hey!' and they were all like 'Hey!' and went with them to their room and then went looking for Roger today, but mother fucker ain't nowhere be found."

"Got here on Sunday?" Virgil asked.

"Uh huh," Paige said and finished her can of beer. "Why?"

"Uh, Paige? It's Wednesday," Virgil said, voice harsh.

He looked at the girl, eyes hard.

"Really? Married Roger James on Saturday, dumped his ass on Sunday, then go looking for him three days later? Gee, I wonder why Roger left you," Virgil spat, his disgust evident.

He got to his feet and grabbed another beer from the small refrigerator.

"God, guess them wedding vows meant nothing to you, huh?" he asked.

"Wedding... God, that's just so old school," Paige sneered.

"Old school or not, they mean something, Paige," Virgil snapped. "Words mean something, Paige."

"It's my body; I can do whatever the fuck I want to with it," Paige defended.

"No, Paige, no you can't," Virgil said.

He tapped her wedding ring with his fingernail.

"Uh, maybe before you said 'I do,' but minute you said that? It's not your body, it's not his body. You become one body," he said and gulped his beer.

"Old school," she sneered.

"Words mean something, Page," Virgil repeated. "Words have meaning and actions have consequences. Why else would we even bother with the ceremony? Why else would we even bother with signing the damned paper, huh?"

Paige had no reply, at least not a reply that wouldn't anger him. Paige lay back down and toyed with the empty can of beer.

"Thought you said you're a cheerleader at Connelly," Virgil asked after a few long moments of silence. "Aren't y'all playing Myndee tomorrow?"

"No, I was," she corrected.

She shrugged.

"Got kicked off the squad; grades were for shit," she admitted.

The towel began to irritate her back so she rolled over.

Virgil did feel his erection beginning again, looking at the long light blonde hair, the cute rounded ass cheeks, the muscled legs.

Her back, however, showed splotches of badly burned skin.

"Let's see," Virgil said and again applied vinegar to her skin.

"Stuff stinks," Paige complained lightly.

In the morning, Virgil roused a very tired and sore Paige from a deep slumber.

Virgil wasn't going deep sea fishing, but he was doing something equally boring. He was playing eighteen holes of golf.

"I'll just stay here," Paige said, lazily applying the lotion he'd bought for her into her skin.

"Uh, no you won't," Virgil snapped.

He did not know this young woman; was not about to leave her alone in his hotel room with his belongings. As it was, he was jamming as much of his valuables into his trouser's pockets to keep them out of the hands of the staff.

Virgil did compromise and rented a covered golf cart. He also let her drive.

By the seventh hole, Paige was actually smiling happily as she zipped along in the golf cart.

By the tenth hole, she was acting as Virgil's caddy. The three other men that made up the foursome complained jokingly that Virgil's caddy was a distraction.