In A Cheap Hotel

[ this story comes before `` In The Warehouse '' so if you 're keeping track, read this one before that one - David ]


Joe watched her from the social movement window of the puddle lobby across the street. He shook his caput. She was going to go for it. What was it about these little college bitch that drew them to this kind of activity ? Back in the day, it was only deviate and capital of Thailand whores who let themselves be used the way she wanted to be used. And the whores were making money from it.

The street was dirty, most of the storefront had been boarded up long ago. The liquor store preindication on the corner flashed'-- qu-or -to-e'-- the other missive were burned out. A group of half-a-dozen jolting looking nestling stood remote, smoking and drinking from brown newspaper purse. Garbage was piled everywhere.

And still, she came.

Joe recognized her car from her description. She parked half a block down from the Brown Hotel, the penny-pinching office that was n't littered with broken methamphetamine hydrochloride or sleeping rear. Her body was even safe than the photos promised - about 5'8 and trim down with long blonde fuzz. He smiled. She was a brunette but he told her to dye it blonde or do n't vex showing up. The bright red clothes hugged her body like a minute skin. It was rigorous enough to show clearly that she had no panties. It was cut low enough to testify off her beautiful titties, pushed up and together by a new leverage from Victoria 's closed book. The underside was cut just below her ass, enough that the tops of her stockings showed. Black fishing net stockings and four inch heel. Nobody wore those anymore and he hoped it made her find every in the cheap whore she looked.

He gave her 15 bit to get the key from the manager, pay him for the way ( he was n't going to waste his money ), and go upstairs and get into attitude. Joe sat down and thumbed through a mag, pacing himself. His putz was already heavily but he had a lot to do before he 'd let himself get it on her. And besides, John was still on his way from the airport.
* * *
Joe went into the room and locked it behind him. She was there, his clean-scrubbed, tarted-up college lady friend, posed exactly as he 'd apprise her. He walked around her slowly, ran his mitt down the middle of her back, patted her head.
She was making small gagging interference, her belly moving up and down slowly, but she kept the rubber eraser cock planted firmly in her throat. He 'd bring the gear to the room an time of day before. It was a uncomplicated contrivance and she fit into it exactly. He inspected her thoroughly, taking his time, crouching down and going over her in by inch.

Her knees were exactly fourteen inch apart and held by leather strap into two branding iron gourd-shaped supports. Her mortise joint were behind her, toes pointed straight back, the shoulder strap at her ankles pressing her shins flat to the base. Joe ran his finger along the book binding of her calf and she shuddered. He knew that the fronts of her feet - stretchability as they were - were already getting sore.

Her belly lay across a steel bar, eighteen column inch high from the base, just a few inches longer than her thighbone. That held her ass pointed obscenely toward the ceiling. That and the leather trap that lay across her shoulder. She was n't able to buckle that herself, Joe would have do to that and he would soon. But first he needed to audit her chest. He ran his helping hand across her chest and nodded, she 'd done as she was told. The metallic element bulldog clip were in office, even though they were outdoor her dress. They were n't causing much annoyance yet but were at least giving her a taste of what was to come.

Joe got up and walked around in battlefront of her, squatting down so he could look her directly in the eyes. Her eyes were watering and she was still gagging on the cock, catching quick breathing place in between. Her nozzle was running and he wiped it with his thumb. Then, he smeared the mucus across her forehead and back into her hair.

Her implements of war were straight out in front of her, her elbows resting in another pair of iron support like the ace at her knees. She was n't able to heave those either so Joe took guardianship of it for her. The steel pole that supported her arms also supported the long, black, rubber stopcock that was pushing past her gag muscle. Joe put his handwriting gently against the vertebral column of her heading and pulled her forward, pushing the pecker even deeper. She gave a flying turmoil then disgorge gibe out of her nuzzle and around the dick, splashing all over the blade rod and the rug. Joe nodded and stepped back, leaving the bile to burn her nostrils and throat.

Patiently, Joe wiped up the mess, cleaning the carpet and his power train, wiping down and rinsing the leather and the organisation buckle until they were good as new. He went into the lavatory and carefully took down the credit card exhibitor curtain. She watched him through teary eyes, her pry and throat still burning. The alone thing worse that that was how hungry her puss was. He was giving her exactly what she wanted and now she needed to cum. She moved her ass, swaying from side of meat to side, trying to constitute herself feel something down there.

'' You really are the pig are n't you ? Deviant, worthless slut. Shaking your ass like that 's going to become me on ? Do you call up that your '' he made inverted comma with his fingers `` hot little cunt is going to get me all worked up ? '' He leaned close, looked her directly in the eye. `` I know you. I am in your question. I own you. '' She nearly came as he said it, felt her cunt lips swelling and the juice running down her leg. `` dampness, are n't you ? '' he laughed. He spit in her face, a big clod that hung from her right eyebrow and slowly slid down her cheek. She came for the firstly time then.

Joe spread the shower curtain underneath her, protecting his gear. He pressed her point heavy onto the putz again and she gagged but this prison term, she only spit up some bile, to the highest degree of that through her nose. He watched it run down over her back talk and hang in long, thin filament from her mentum. Joe picked up the bucketful he 'd used to clean her up and rested the rim against the top of her head. He knelt behind and beside her, his legs leg pressed between her second joint. She immediately began humping him, grinding up and down as well as she could with the blade bar pressing into her hips.

Slowly, Joe tilted the bucket, letting the watery mess mizzle over her foreland, soaking her hair, her case, and the top of the red dress. She came again, sucking hungrily for air through flared nostrils.

He fucked her ass then, using her cunt juice to lube himself up. When he was finished with her, he pulled the strap across her shoulders and buckled it in place, pressing her chest of drawers into the floor and putting terrible stress on her back and coxa. Finally, he swung the last hinged small-arm up from the floor. It was measured to fit precisely between her opened ass cheeks. He took the three-inch diameter butt fire hydrant and rammed it nursing home, then swung the metal bar upward and snapped the base of the plug into the one-armed bandit that was cut there. The bar was mounted on a powerful saltation. The idea was to tease her and it was working. As soon as it was planted in her ass, she started humping against it. But the springtime kept it moving so she never got anything to a greater extent than a horrible teasing sensation, plenty to make her hot but not enough to make her cum.

Joe came around in presence of her again. She was completely secured, spit-roasted end-to-end with natural rubber cock, still dressed but now her clothes were a soaking wet, smelly raft. She was disgusting but that was what he wanted. Let her swim in it for a while.

She 'd stopped gagging on the big disgraceful cock, her throat must birth acclimated to it. That was all right, he had more whoremaster up his sleeve. He 'd pump up the inflatable cock-head later, when whoremaster was there.

He looked at her one last time. Her workforce were free - aught restrained her from the elbows forward. When he designed the machine, he gave a lot of idea to that. He could have got brought her forearms straight up and secured them to the pole, or taken them behind her back, or even mounted another perch to hold open them unchanging. But in the end, he decided he liked this conception. It accentuated how useless they were. Her hand were loose, unchained, unbound, but useless. She had them straight in front of her, fingerbreadth intertwined, almost a position of prayer. He leaned forward and kissed the ovolo and she looked up at him. He could n't severalise because of the huge cock in her mouth, but he thought she smiled.

. .. is the next part 'off to the drome to get John'? or should the story end here ? beam your comments. . .