September 28, 2009

oh Humbert...

Hey. Fornicator From The Asylum here. As if you didn’t know. Cocksuckers. So, what have you been up to? This could be a two-way street, you know. Selfish bastards, looking to me to get yourselves off and never offering me so much as a sliver of fantasy in return, not the tiniest taste of what makes you cream in your silk panties, not an iota of what makes you come in your perfectly-creased trousers. Bunch of uptight assholes. But here you go anyway. I'm feeling generous. Not to mention horny as hell...

You sign in under the name Humbert, which cracks me up. The desk clerk hands you the key to room 9 and we drive around to the back of the motel, away from the noise of the highway. As you turn the key in the lock, I become aware of the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, sending blood pulsing to my nipples, my lips, my pussy, engorging me, getting me ready. You flip the lightswitch and the bare bulb throws its glare over the faded pumpkin-orange carpet and almost-matching curtains, which hang limply from the rod. Hopefully not a portent of things to come, I think to myself, and giggle. You slap me across the cheek. Sorry, daddy, I smile, and you slap me, not unkindly, across the other cheek. I grin.

While you pour yourself a drink, I perform my striptease, seductively unbuttoning my blouse, letting it slip from my shoulders, stepping out of my schoolgirl miniskirt and pink panties, until I am standing in front of you wearing only a thin black bra and matching thigh-high stockings and heels. And then you are on top of me, pushing me backwards onto the burgundy bedspread and its pattern of cigarette burns and old cum stains. I feel the mattress springs pressing into my back like some twisted form of acupuncture, I taste the bourbon on your breath, I feel your dick pressing its way into me, carving me out, filling me up. You kiss me wetly and pinch my nipples beneath my bra until I cry out. Fuck me, I plead. And you do. I dig my stilettos into the backs of your calves, drawing blood, and I scrape my fingernails down your back as the mattress protests and you fuck me fuck me fuck me until I am raw. You come in one final violent thrust and I press myself up, rubbing my aching clit against you until I come, too. We lie together, still breathing heavily, while you reach over to the nightstand and light a cigarette, exhaling into my mouth. I feel you beginning to soften inside me, feel the semen trickling out of my cunt, and when we leave this shit-hole motel room, we leave our own stains on the threadbare burgundy bedspread.

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