Excerpt for The Bimbofication of Miradra Patel: From Shrill and Sharp to Luscious and Lusty by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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The Bimbofication of Miradra Patel

B.R. Eastman

Copyright 2017

All characters depicted in sexual situations in this publication are eighteen years of age or older.

These stories are about fictional consenting adults engaging in taboo and controversial sexual acts. Nobody involved in the creation of this ebook, including authors, editors and models, support immoral or illegal acts in real life. Cover models are not intended to illustrate specific people and the content does not refer to models' actual acts, identity, history, beliefs or behavior.

Miradra Patel frowned as Betty walked out with a scowl on her face. She didn't want to make this more difficult for her, but she certainly didn't feel a need to be nice either. She had just fired Betty for stealing bath towels and soap. It wasn't a big thing, but she hadn't just nicked a tiny bit -- she had an entire box of thirty brand-new towels in her car, and three of those big five-gallon jugs of all-purpose cleanser.

Finally she was gone, and the hotel felt like a post-robbery bank vault. She was the only person here. There were a few guests in the rooms right now, but not many, and not a soul in the offices besides her. It felt like the husk of a hotel, and for a moment, Miradra felt like she was in a post-apocalyptic movie; she had to verify on her phone that the world hadn't ended, she wasn't the only person alive anymore and she had just fired her last companion.

But no, the world still existed. An alert on the computer screen suggested one of her guests had moments ago ordered pay-per-view porn, and also, of course, that the Internet still worked. Sirens blared in the distance, then stopped. Street lights flickered in the night. A car horn honked. Feminine laughter filtered in too, someone laughing flirtatiously not too far away. The world had gone on, with one more unemployed person, and now Miradra had to staff the counter until Andre showed up at midnight.

"Oh, you naughty girl!"

"You brute!"

"I'm going to have to punish you when we get in there... if I can wait that long..."

Robby and Vicki Smart were falling over each other to tear each other's clothes off as they giggled their way into their motel room. The sound startled Miradra, who watched even though she didn't want to look nosy.

It was hard to tear her eyes away from them because Robby Smart was gorgeous. He was a minor league baseball player and had a broad, athletic body, with a gorgeously thick shock of perfect blond hair.

But he would never be interested in someone like Miradra Patel. She was harsh and angular, bony in all the wrong places, and she was old compared to Robby's beautiful blonde girlfriend Vicki (who was married to someone else). Miradra was almost fifty. She was past the point in her life when she could seduce a young hunk like him. She wasn't even the "sexy cougar"-type -- she didn't know how to seduce a man; her only sexual experiences had come from men approaching her, and that hadn't happened in years.

Miradra sighed as Robby and Vicki went into their room. Miradra couldn't help but picture them making love, Robby's looping, strapping, rippling back muscles flexing as he writhed atop her body. Miradra's pussy tingled and she was suddenly, desperately overwhelmed by desire.

But no, she told herself over and over. You need to focus on the business. That's what's important. The hotel was what paid the bills. She needed to man the desk tonight.

Another customer came in then, an elderly man whose wife waited in the parking lot. Miradra checked him in (he was the last reservation for the night) and managed a smile as she gave him the key. A customer service consultant had once suggested she smiled, then told her not to when he actually saw what she looked like smiling. Miradra had a grim, frightful look, especially when she was harried, and her smile had been known to make children cry.

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