The hum of the air conditioner and the ratty wallpaper barely clinging to the motel walls were no help in drowning out the erotic sounds coming from next door. Loud smacks against soft skin were a constant as breathy female moans melodically carried between the paper thin walls. A sexy male groan was the last straw before I finally kicked my comforter off and spread naked over the queen size bed.
The mixture of potent household cleaners and a slight musty scent invaded my chapped nose and stung my tear stained eyes. Some rerun of a late-night talk show played in the background of my hazy mind as I desperately tried to count the speckles of popcorn ceiling paint in the hopes of falling asleep. However, my mind kept drifting away to the sinful story it concocted about the sexy duo next door.
A tall, dark and handsome male getting his rocks off to a busty bleached blonde woman he randomly met at a club. The two of them danced the night away with many varieties of alcohol acting as lubricant to loosen any inhibitions stubbornly left inside them. Halfway through the night, they found themselves stumbling into the nearest bathroom to take the edge off of building desires from the hours of teasing underneath a flashing neon sky.
Bent over a porcelain sink, the busty blonde's breasts bounced to the rhythmic base, orgasmic screams barely heard as the sexy male pounded into her; drunken thoughts of what he would do with his latest conquest swirling around inside of his dazed head.
What? It was three forty-six in the morning. I didn't say it was the most creative story.
My devious mind then decided to play tricks on me. What if I was the one bent over the sink? Her bubblegum tongue licking the cherry colored ball of nerves like it was a delicious treat; saccharine juices dripping from my soft, swollen lips. His cock squeezing inside my tight puckered hole and filling me with his thick cream. All while his large, rough hand goaded my backwards thrusts with stinging smacks to the red mounds of my bouncing ass.
I couldn't help it. I was incredibly horny, coming down from a drunken high and in desperate need of anything to get rid of my aching heart. In my lovelorn state, I decided I only had one of three options. One, force myself to sleep and curse the sexy couple tomorrow for the throbbing wetness between my legs. Two, have my own nostalgic fun with the hand that was now teasing the tops of my swollen breasts. Or three, do something about it.
Maybe it was the well over half a bottle of Jack I downed tonight or the fact that I stupidly forgot my rabbit back at the apartment. Or quite possibly that I just didn't want to be alone right now, but I jumped out of bed and threw on the dark wash jean shorts and old college t-shirt laying on the floor; the only clothes I had at the moment after leaving his cheating ass for good. I reached for the almost empty bottle sitting on the nightstand and took a long swig from it, feeling the delicious burn of the amber liquor all the way down my throbbing body. Damn...I hope this works.
A few minutes later, I found myself standing outside the faded brown wooden door of their motel room. The howling wind clinged to my overheated skin, slightly cooling me off as I worked up the courage to knock. Fucks and other various foul language were being repeated over and over again from behind many of the dingy motel room doors, including theirs.
I'm surprised they actually heard my knocks over their passionate love making, but after a few anxious seconds, the door finally opened wide. I tried to play it cool even though my eyes took a second to adjust to the blinding ceiling lamp. The unique smell of the motel, cheap beer, cheaper perfume and sex wafted out of the room, hitting me like a ton of bricks. But once I was able to recover, I looked up to see one half of my fantasy duo.
Sadly, the guy wasn't exactly the tall, dark and handsome man I had envisioned in my mind. But holy fuck he was hot. Disheveled brownish blonde hair in an undercut style topped his head and was made messier by him running his long fingers through it. An expansive canvas of smooth tanned and tattooed skin stretched over lean muscle with both of arms wrapped in thick intricate tribal tattoos. Square black rim glasses sat low on the sharp bridge of his nose; the playful chocolate brown eyes behind them now stared down at me.
"Were we a little too loud?" he smirked, leaning against the door frame as his eyes slowly looked me up and down. Low slung light wash jeans barely done up drew my eyes down to not only the hypnotizing strip of soft hair trailing beneath the button, but also to the very pronounced bulge also tucked inside them.
My cheeks burned underneath his stare. My body vibrated and my heart pumped out of my chest with the dirty thoughts of this man fucking me. I faintly shook my head to rid myself of the thoughts and tried to think of a good reason as to why I was knocking on their door at four in the morning. Sadly, my stupid brain decided it was a much better idea to focus on the small silver rings through each of his dusty brown nipples.
I stepped backwards and tried to look anywhere else; my face burning hot despite the cold, early morning wind when my eyes noticed the high arch of a brown eyebrow and the amusement in his eyes.
"Oh um...no no you weren't. It's just..."
The look of a widened smirk and darkened eyes sent a shiver straight down my spine, pooling between my legs. It was as if he found some new toy and was eager to play with it, which I was more than happy to oblige. "Would you maybe like to come inside? It's fucking cold out here and as you can see, I'm not really dressed for it."
"Who is it, baby?" The feminine voice asked from inside the motel room, startling me out of my reverie. I'd forgotten about her.
His body gracefully moved off the door frame and made room for me to enter; another look over had me biting my cheek when I slowly walked past him. The room looked almost identical to mine except for the multiple black and grey suitcases opened on the ground, the twelve pack of PBR with four empty cans strewn on their nightstands, and the other half of my fantasy duo splayed out on the same queen size bed. The same comforter set was in a heap on the old hunter green carpet and a crisp white sheet laid across her lap, barely covering as she lounged back against the many standard white pillows around the headboard.
Straight, disheveled and blazing red hair draped over her shoulders, stopping just short of covering her hard nipples. Her supple, porcelain skin brought out the piercing emerald green eyes heavy with a simmering lust for the guy now standing behind me. A delicate curved silver arrow elegantly pierced her septum and decorated her perfect angled nose.
She didn't even bother covering up and laid there staring at me while she threw her hair to one side; tiny silver balls and hoops adorned both her ears. Her once perfect makeup was now fading from hours of rough sex—smeared khol eyeliner, stained and dry mauve lips, and worn out foundation covered her cherub face. Tattoos of various colorful designs covered a large majority of her body and drew attention to her perfect DD size breasts and curvy hips. She also wasn't the same blonde from my dreams; she was even more gorgeous.
Her lips glistened when her tongue lightly dragged over them. I watched the tiny silver ball peek out from between her teeth as I anxiously awaited her response to my presence. Would she get upset and leave? I wouldn't blame her if she did. A strange young woman was invited into her motel room at four in the morning, and by the guy she was just fucking her no less. This seemed wrong on so many levels. But...I kind of didn't care. I know it sounded heartless, but it's not like I would ever see them again. Plus, their love making did keep me up this late, so they sort of owed me at least an apology. Yeah, I would at least walk away from here with that.
"I assume you're from one of the rooms next door," she said with hardly any remorse in her voice. She was getting royally fucked by a damn adonis, what did she have to feel remorse about?
"I don't think she's here for an apology, babe."
I suddenly jumped when I felt his large hand settle on my lower back; my shirt doing little to protect me from the heat and shocks of his touch. He stepped a little closer to me and I could smell the faint woodsy scent of his fading cologne. The inside of my cheek was sore from how hard I was biting to keep from spitting out an apology and running out of the room in sheer embarrassment. What was I doing here? How could I just barge in here like this? I'm surprised they haven't called the night manager, or worse, the cops.
"What's your name, hon?" The woman asked, lips curling into a sexy grin.
