THIS IS A STORY OF FICTION. ALL RELEVANT CHARACTERS ARE 18+.
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Seeing my mom pulling off after dropping me at my show, I was devastated. She has been at every one of my events. She had always been in the front row. My biggest cheerleader, tears always in her eyes. Every great performance, every time I misplayed a note, she was always in the audience. Praising me on my efforts, encouraging me after my failures. But now, walking in, I found my music instructor.
"Jacob, glad you're here," my instructor would say. "The others are in the back getting ready for the performance."
But after seeing the difference in my demeanor, she stopped me. "Is everything ok?" I was asked, seriousness in her voice.
Not noticing my mom anywhere, I let her know she wouldn't be attending as she had other priorities she needed to tend to. After encouraging me not to fret and just perform the way I know how, I proceeded to meet up with my fellow musicians to prepare for the show.
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Arriving near the marina, Gretchen had an uneasiness about her. Seeing the numerous dilapidated buildings around, she looked at her GPS as she looked for the motel the boys wanted her to rent a room from. An area that shouldn't be frequented much, let alone a married 40 some woman, bristled with weeds, walled up shops, homeless and drugs users lining the streets in tents.
"This is the area these boys live in?" She said to herself, barely above a whisper. "I don't know how anyone could live as such."
As her wedding ring gleaned on the steering wheel, he right hand held her cell phone.
"In 1 mile, your destination will be on the right." Hearing the voice of SIRI, her eyes ardently scanned the area.
"Text Marcus," she said, readying to send him a message. "I'm just arriving at the motel, you'll see my car."
Putting her phone down she sees the motel. "Marina Motel" the sign said. A simple row of 8 separate rooms, unattached, the motel looked repulsive. "9:40" her phone showed. Pulling up to, what was the check-in spot, Gretchen nervously looked around. There were men, white and black, obviously vagrants, lingering around the streets nearby.
"We could have just done this at the house," she complained outloud, as she was checking her makeup and hair in the mirror.
After removing the flats she had wore to drive the car, she reached over on the passenger side floor and retrieved her beige high heels. Putting them on her feet, she apprehensively opened the car door. Putting a leg out, she hastily eradicated herself from the vehicle. Smoothing her dress down. She quickly moved to the main building.
"Dam look at that fine bitch!" a voice cried out. As the heckling commenced, she paused, taken aback at the vile comments.
"Only one reason why a white bitch would be here," another voiced cracked.
"With those legs, I'd fuck her to death," yet another chimed in.
Click Clacking her way into the front, an older black man sat at a desk. "Can I help you," he began, looking across at the middle-aged MILF.
Shyly, Gretchen stammered, "I..I..would like to secure a room please."
Looking her up and down, he respectfully said, "Lady, I can only guess as to why a woman like you would be on this side of the city, but there are nicer hotels a few miles from here. This is not a good side of town, especially a woman."
Repeating herself, Gretchen said, "I.. I know," Her voice barely above a whisper. "I would still like to rent a room please. Just.. just for a few hours."
Seeing her dressed in a peach pencil skirt, her hair set in a wispy-type fashion, light make up, bright red lipstick, tan colored 3' high heels, and tan nylons, he ended up retrieving his booklet.
"Ok madam, it's your money," he would remark, writing her information down. With her eyes looking toward the ground, and fidgeting with the hemline of her dress, the shame and nervousness she was dealing with, knowing in the next few minutes, three young black teenage boys would be ravishing her insides. "$99 please," he quoted, staring at her.
Reachingbinto her purse, Gretchen pulled out five $20 bills. Not being able to look the man in his eye, her thoughts immediately went to her don, Jacob. He was playing his violin at the Civic Center downtown. Feeling a rush of guilt, her thoughts were interrupted.
"Here's your key, madame," the man said.
Grasping the key, the man stops her. "Just make you and your..... friend....don't destroy my bed." With that, he nonchalantly turned his attention back to the basketball game on TV.
Leaving the office, "2" looked her in the face.
Quickly finding the room, she fumbled with the key. Struggling to fit the key, the catcalls kept coming. "When your friend leaves, I'd smash yo' fine ass."
Still, another was heard. "I'll mix cum with yo' man." Finally fitting it into the slot she opened the door. Entering, she closed the door behind her.
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Looking around the small room, the layout was not ideal. Dark drapes hung on the pole, covering the window. A musky smell, emanated throughout the air. The bed was twin-sized wrought iron frame. There was barely any light filtering through the sides of the drapes. Turning the light on, she noticed a mirror above the bed. Seeing that is was the length of the bed, she was horrified.
"Omg, I have to watch this while each is on top of me?" Walking over to the bathroom, it was nasty. The toilet had seen better days. The shower was definitely not going to ge use by her after the festivities ended.
Reaching for her cellphone, she saw her screen illuminate. A smiling Todd, Gretchen and Jacob posing in a photo taken church last Christmas. Texting Marcus, she responded. "Room 2."
Sending it, she put her phone back in her purse. Placing it on the table by the bed, she pulled out the box of condoms she still had from before resuming birth control. Hoping they'd get the hint, she placed it on the side table. "Ughhh," she groaned, looking at the worn mattress. A dark burgundy blanket, she went over to take it down. Removing it, the sheet appeared.
"Oh.. my.. God," her voice sounded, uncertainty setting in. Sitting carefully on the bed, it accepted her petite body. "Eener! Eener!" The sound of the bedsprings, just from her dimuntive stature, illustrated the near future she was about to partake upon.
Looking at the clock by the bed. "9:57" appeared. Sighing, she was resigned to her fate. "I love you Jacob," she silently said, looking at no one in particular. "When you graduate, this will be over."
Scooching on the bed, she lie back, resting her head on the pillow, she began undoing each button of her dress Reaching the last one, the dress opened. Still adorning her body, she looked up into the bed length mirror.
The grey streaks in her hair, reminding her of her own age, brought her reality to the forefront. Pushing her bra delicately over her breasts, she then opened her legs. Pushing one of her manicured nails into the gusset of her pantyhose, the fabric gave way. Creating a hole, she created an opening which showcased the ultimate prize for her son's bullies. Her perfectly manicured pussy, a landing strip shaped like a 'V', stuck out, invitingly. Reaching for a condom, she pulled one out and placed it right in front of where her "pot-of-gold" was.
Just then, a rapping at the door occurred. Yo' Mrs. L," she heard at the door. Its' Marcus.
"It's unlocked," she said, her angelic voice travelling toward the door.