Cheap Motel

I lay on the hotel bed, naked as we had agreed. Legs spread. Facing the door. Slightly rubbing my pussy. Wondering what I was doing there. Knowing why I was there.

It was one of a series of items we had discussed and agreed upon. We would be naked in the room, except for when we arrived, and just as we left. Otherwise... no clothes. No hiding. A time of complete and total focus and sex, debauchery, physical pleasure. Nakedness was symbolic of this. Because I arrived first and this element of the agreement was mostly for me, my clothes were neatly folded on a chair next to the door.

This agreement also had the function of assuring there would be no hidden recording devices. No bags or purses, no cameras or hidden recorders. We briefly considered an arrangement where entry to the room would be done nude, but couldn't figure out how. This was the compromise.

Because we had agreed that I would arrive first, it meant I chose the hotel and paid for the room. He knew which city and a time, but that was all. At the designated time, I would send a text with the information he needed.

We had both agreed to be chaste for three days before hand. No other sexual activity, no orgasms. Nothing for three days. That wasn't a big deal for me, but I suspected he was about to burst.

At 2:00pm exactly I sent the text.

"Motel 6 Carlsbad, Room xxx".

The rules said I wasn't supposed to touch myself. The closest I came was crossing my legs, squeezing a bit. I lay quietly and sipped a drink. It was a cranberry juice with vodka. Just one. Just enough to take the edge off.

I heard his Harley as it pulled into the lot. It wasn't for certain, but the timing was right. My heart began pounding. I uncrossed my legs, positioned myself on the bed. Felt my breasts, wished they were just a bit bigger then dismissed the thought. Felt my shaved pussy and legs. Birth control in place and stable. Everything working.

The bed had the coverlet pulled down, and was naked to the sheets. Sort of like me.

Clump, clump... not loud but someone was walking down the outside corridor.

A knock. I flushed with embarrassment. He didn't have a key. How stupid I was, laying out in just the right position for him on the bed. I was an idiot.

I rose and opened the door, standing to the side slightly so my naked white body wouldn't be visible to everyone all the way across the street. He stood there and quickly glanced up and down, taking in my body. He knew it of course, but this was the first time he had perused it knowing he was going to touch it and enter it.

Two steps in and he began to undress. He did it quickly, and I thought, "he is practiced at this," then laughed out loud. That brought a strange look.

I returned to the bed, hit a timer we had agreed upon, and spread out to wait for him. By the time I was ready, he was naked.

His cock was up and hard. I don't know if that had happened before he left home, or just now, as he saw me naked. Didn't matter, I opened my arms silently and he came to me, laying next to me, pressing his lips against mine. My arms went around him, my legs curled behind him, and we had begun.

Just because of our position, our embrace, his cock naturally rested and pressed against my pussy. It felt good to have his hardness there and I felt how he slipped on my flesh. I was wet, just as he was hard. I wanted him, needed him.

He had other plans. He moved down my body, stopping at my breasts. He knew I have sensitive nipples. He spent time there. He squeezed them, just hard enough to bring a moan of pleasure/pain, and suckled them. I could have had him spend more time there, but he kept moving after a couple of minutes.

Looking down, seeing him move and press on my body, the contrast of his skin and mine was stark. He was rough, course, dark. I was smooth, soft, white almost, in contrast. I took a deep breath and let it out, then leaned my head back, spread my legs wide, and closed my eyes.

His hand were on my thighs. His mouth just above my clit. I moved my hips up, encouraging him, but he refused, instead moving to the side. Playing with my lips. His hands holding, squeezing my inner thighs, his thumbs down and pressing just a bit on my ass cheeks.

I moved my hands down to touch his, to touch myself to guide him, and he batted them away. So I moved them up and squeezed my breasts, playing with the nipples just a bit.

My entire pussy was wet with my own fluid and from his saliva. And yet, he still had not touched my clit. I was going crazy, which was probably what he intended. I whimpered and he finally relented. His tongue slid inside my pussy lips and into my vagina, just a bit. His fingers pulled the flesh next to my pussy lips, spreading them a bit wider. He delved in, tasting me for the first time.

Finally... my clit. I almost came right then. His tongue flicked, flittered, slid around and over. I knew he was gauging my reactions, trying to see what got me off the most. So I obliged, making noise. More noise when it felt best. Thrusting when I wanted more. Whimpering when I loved it.

His fingers, two of them, wormed their way inside me and I felt filled. They curled and when they hit the spot I gasped, letting him know that he had hit the spot. His little finger slid below, down between my legs and ass cheeks, found my anus and pressed, ever so slightly.

Just as he pressed my anus I came. The pleasure, the warmth, the feeling of heroin rush spread from my hips to my limbs. I knew from experience my chest and neck were flushing. Hit tongue worked my cunt, my cunt, I thought of it as my cunt, the dirty part of me that I had given him to do with as he pleased and I shuddered and grabbed the sheets thrashing about just a tiny bit...

As I slowly came down and he slowly relaxed his intense sucking of my clit, I giggled, laughed, smiled, sighed, and he left my cunt, my cunt, his dirty little place, and came up to kiss me again.

I wrapped myself around him again, and happily brought him close, pressing my body against his, feeling the coarse difference between our bodies, his muscles and thickness with my softness and skinny limbs wrapped around his limbs.

It was a happy embrace, and we rolled around a bit but finally I managed to roll him over on his back, with myself on top. His cock was still hard, he hadn't cum, I had cum but not him, and I was on top of him my hands on his shoulders pushing him down, and raising myself up.

All it took was a slight shift of my hips and his cock slid to the entrance of my vagina. It pressed against my lips, spreading them. I reached behind, lifting it slightly, getting it to the right angle, then sank down on it. Ohhhh... oh... umpf...

He spread me wide. It felt good to be spread wide. He felt good, I could tell the way he moved and thrust up to meet me.

And then began thrusting from below.

I tried to sync my own hips with his, and managed. But eventually he gave up and let me ride him. And ride him I did. Slowly at first, pulling up until he was almost all the way out, then sinking back down. His hands came up to my breasts, holding them, squeezing them, pinching my nipples harder than I liked, a bit painful, but I took it and just rode him harder.

I moved one hand between my legs and began rubbing myself, but he came in and took over. He wanted to do it. I let him.

He rubbed my clit, and I rode his cock, and he looked me in the eyes, at my body, my breasts, my stomach, my cunt... he touched them all, but kept the pressure on my clit as I rode him.

So it was I came again, grunting and moaning with effort as I arched my back, let my hair fall down onto his chest, and kept riding him.

He came inside me. I think he knew that I like that. At least, I like it better than on my face. A lot better. There is something so intimate about taking a guy's body fluid inside yourself. Accepting it. His leaving it there, deposited inside me, even after he leaves. And I was on top and I was not going to let him go. I wanted to follow through with it, make him cum inside me.

When he was done I stayed on top of him for a while moving very slightly, then lay down on him.

His cock very slowly slid out of me, and I could feel a bit of his cum follow, draining a bit.

Cream pie. Never liked that term.

We lay for a while as I sort of drained his cum out of my pussy back down onto his cock and balls, making a nice, sticky mess of us both. I didn't care. It felt nice to just be there with a guy, in a cheap hotel room and squeaky bed.

He finally rolled over and kissed me and looked around for something to clean up. I got up (his cum dribbling down my thigh just a bit), took his hand and we went into the bathroom. Cheapo hotel shower, but it was big enough for us both to fit.

We washed under hot water, and I used soap and water to clean him off, spending special care with his cock and balls. He liked that. It got him hard again, in spite of hot water. He put his cock between my legs, slippery with water, and thrust, and fucked my thighs for a bit. I laughed because he was going to cum again, right there in the shower with my arms around his shoulders, my legs around his cock, the water washing away his semen...

I didn't actually expect him to cum. But he did. Between my legs, his fluid spurting all over my legs, the shower wall, the tile floor. And then was washed away, quickly and easily.

We washed him up again, easily and quickly this time and got out. We dried each other off with soft white hotel towels and headed back to the bedroom. I did not expect any more sex, he had cum twice, as had I. That was enough.

But we did make out a bit. Our hands on each other, exploring the most intimate and sensitive parts of each other as we kissed and played idly.

There was a two hour time limit. We had set that as part of the agreement, I can't remember why. I think one or both of us was worried we would end up being a burden to the other, or being forced into something they didn't want for too long, or something.

The two hours was up, the alarm had gone off.

We got up. He dressed and opened the door to leave, as agreed. But I kissed him before he left.

It was an arranged sign. We didn't speak at all during the entire liaison, but we had arranged the final kiss.

It meant, "Saturday, two weeks from now, 2PM. I will text you the information for the cheap hotel."

He smiled, kissed back, and left.