The Inn Keeper

"I'm coming," she cried out. "I've never had an orgasm before in my life. Go harder!"

He paused for a moment, to lift up her legs over his shoulders. That way he could penetrate her deeper. His arms pulled her torso close to his. She couldn't believe that she was leaning forward in a stretch to taste that sweet nectar in the mouth of his between her legs, which pointed to the ceiling. Harry slammed her hard. The flesh spanking each other echoed in the small bathroom.

"Uh, uh, uh," moaned Rachel with blood curdling intensity. His balls slammed against her butt cheeks. Everything was blocked out to chase that intensity in her pussy, the rising sun, the super nova unfolding inside of herself. She grabbed, kissed, bit, and fucked Harry as hard as she could. He let any damage happen to him, like the nail marks digging into his back and the teeth forgotten how hard they were biting into his lip, while her pussy was fucking him.

"I'm coming again," her voice was so high pitched and loud that it screeched painfully inside of Harry's head. However, in the heat of the lust it only drove him on even harder to fuck that brown bundle in his arms and on his cock. He slammed his cock inside of her with force of utter abandon to damage that he could be doing. And she was so dripping wet and slick that he barely felt a thing, so smoothly slipped the projectile cock inside of her.

The butt under her had gotten slick from her own sweat. She got him to let her down. She forced him onto his back on the small floor. She straddled his hips and fucked him cow girl style. Sweat was all over their bodies. She was dripping onto him, as sweat pearls collected on her nose and chin. Her breasts flopped up and down violently.

"What a fucking tigress," panted Harry. "Never underestimate the furry in a caged animal."

Those were the last words before his pelvis pressed up and froze in place. Like paralyzed all the muscles in his body contracted. He looked up at her with his eyes wide open. The photo her towering over him, her dark brown nipples and that smutty face of hers burned into his memory. Then the pulsing in his cock released his seed.

In the oxytocin rich silence of the aftermath, they noticed that even the hockey game had been muted. A quite voice outside asked, "Is it safe to go to the bathroom now? I've been holding it in for the last two hours, because he made us wait."

"You definitely want to give them some space after such a performance, definitely," said another voice with deeply reverent respect.

Harry started warming hugging her. His hand drew gentle lines on her back that felt so soothing. They rolled on the floor with the little floor towel. The most comfortable was with the legs in the bathtub. She traced lines through his face with her face really close. Seeing each other so close set them into a very intimate and tender space. They enjoyed the sensation of their naked bodies on top of each other, the human connection, the bonding. Harry's penis shrank and flopped out of her pussy. She felt the wet coming out of her. They still stayed in a warm embrace in the comfortably, cramped position that they found in the small space.

Eventually, Rachel had to leave. She got dressed with her skin having dried up the sweat. She quickly ran out of the doors before the boys could see her. Harry stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. "Toilet is working again, boys!"

All night during her sleep, scenes of Harry's flesh, the feelings, the skin, the nakedness, and his cock replayed in her mind. When she arrived to work the next day. Patrick was standing behind the reception desk. He knocked a key card against the wooden counter to make a point. "Very immature," he said. He shook his head and repeated, "Very immature." Then, he left into his office.

She only saw the boys the next day afternoon, when they were checking out. They all filed in with their winter pants and thick jackets. They stomped their boots at the automatic door respectfully. They seemed a lot more somber. They were already getting back into their professional skins of having to show up at work the next day.

After the receipt was signed, Rachel said, "Harry, can I show you the locker room facilities, so that you know what a beautiful facility we have?" She got out from behind the counter without waiting for his response.

Tom said eagerly, "Oh, I want to see as well."

"No, you don't," said Harry firmly putting his hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Okay, I don't," acquiesced Tom sadly.

Rachel led Harry down to the men's locker room. She closed the door with a sign "maintenance. They went into the bathroom. She pulled her pants down. "I've got five minutes before I have to be back up. Can you do it in that time?"

Fire of joy flashed over Harry's face. "Hell yeah!" he cheered. He threw off his clothing without unzipping anything or taking his shoes off. His cock was instantly hard as if it had pyro electronics like an airbag. He pointed his cock and entered. Her pussy had an equally impressive emergency sprinkler system that doused wet slick over the length of his shaft. This time, she had experienced the sensation already. She loved all of the little, piercing stretching pains and was slightly saddened and left missing, when her pussy happily devoured his entire cock without stretch.

It was rough and quick affair. They tried to bite, suck, and kiss each other with a speed record. She tried to smear her clitoris on his based with each down stroke. At minute mark two, her series of orgasms set in. On command twenty seconds to five minutes, Harry flashed all kinds of dirty images over his mind to hasten the boiling seed to spill over.

At the five minute mark, he pulled out, pressed her down on her knees, and shot his load all over her face. Big wads of pure white Jell-O graced her bushy, dark Indian eye brow, one up her nostril, and one long spurt across her cheeks down to her lips like a savage pirate scar. "I love it how dirty you are," crooned Rachel. That was the last image of Rachel, which Harry froze permanently in his mind to stay there until his last breath, when he died at the ripe age of 73.