A while ago, one of my female readers dared me to do a story involving an everyday inanimate object - other than 'the wall' depicted in 'The Hole' series. I was so intrigued by her proposal that I accepted. It was far from easy and required me to access the most perverted areas of my brain. Take this as a warning: if you're not into this sort of thing, please read something else. This is not for the faint-hearted!
*****
You might not expect a raunchy sex story from a woman with an unsexy profession as mine. You see, I am a carpet saleswoman. Well, actually I am the CEO of a carpet company which I inherited from my father, who inherited it from his father. The daily operation of the factory - distribution, advertising and the managing of our fourteen employees - I leave to my director of operations, Cliff. He's fifteen years my senior and I've casually fucked him three times over the last year. I have never been the type of woman to stay put for long, so I choose to be on the road whenever I can. It's one of the advantages of being the CEO of your own company; you can pretty much pick your own responsibilities and delegate the rest.
Despite the fact that our reputation is known far and wide, it's never far and wide enough, so that's where I come in. I am always trying to find new opportunities and customers. So, like I said, not exactly the type of girl that men fantasize about. And if it hadn't been for that single incident, the one on which this story is based, my life would indeed be pretty dull.
I guess it all started one late afternoon as I was driving towards my last potential customer. I had had a busy day so I was looking forward to my daily stay at a motel. Suddenly it started pouring rain and the wind picked up; the sunny country side quickly changed into a scene from one of those disaster movies. The sky turned black and it was getting difficult to drive. Suddenly, alongside of the road, I noticed a middle aged man, clothed in rags and pushing a shopping cart - a typical homeless person, except that he was in the middle of nowhere, along a backwater road with no shelter for miles. I pulled over and stopped as close to him as possible without soaking him even more. It took some convincing but I managed to get the poor guy into the car. Luckily, I had a very large trunk which could hold his cart and everything in it.
He was grateful, but not very talkative. I gave him a ride to the next town, where he insisted I accepted something in return for the ride. After unloading his cart, he handed me worn down carpet. It was pink... or at least it had been. Because it was so dirty and grungy, it was hard to make out the exact color. On top of that, it was a poor quality rug, but I accepted it out of common decency. I figured I would just throw it away first chance I got. We said goodbye and that was the last we saw of each other.
After finishing up with my last prospect of the day, I headed towards the nearest motel to spend the night before driving back home the next day. As I grabbed my handbag out of the trunk, I noticed the grungy carpet and decided to take it with me inside, with the intention of leaving it in the motel room when I left. After checking in, I rolled out the carpet in front of the bed, thinking that would be the end of it. But then my fingers suddenly touched something gooey. I immediately redrew my fingers and leaned in for a closer look. Cum. There was no doubt about it; it was fresh cum, half dried up, half still gooey.
Son of a bitch, I smiled to myself. That dirty old geezer must have shot a load on it just before I picked him up. I wiped my fingers on another part of the carpet and didn't give it another thought. I took off my clothes and hopped in the shower. When I came back out, I had a towel wrapped around myself and picked up the remote, flicking through the available channels. As I sat down on the bed, my left foot suddenly landed in something gooey again. It was another strand of juicy cum. Motherfucker, I thought to myself. How many times did that bastard dump a load on that carpet?
I quickly undid my towel and used it to clean off my foot, then threw the towel on the bed. Completely naked, I started watching a talk show as I combed my long brown hair. After a few minutes, I suddenly noticed that my left foot was smack in the middle of another cum stain, my toes happily wriggling around. As soon as I realized what I had been doing - voluntary or not - my pussy got soaking wet. I looked at my toes, glistening with a stranger's cum and automatically dropped my comb and put both my hands between my legs. As I used my left index and middle finger to pull my pussy lips apart, I slid my right middle finger up my warm twat, with my index finger not far behind.
It wasn't the first time I had masturbated in the privacy of a motel room. I considered myself an open-minded city girl; that's why I always carried a dildo with me. But my fingers seemed to be doing a pretty good job for now. I slid off the bed, onto my knees on the carpet, so that I was able to shove my fingers a lot deeper, hitting the spot. While the fingers of my right hand continued to claw at my insides, working me to an orgasm, I repositioned my left hand and wriggled a finger up my freshly washed butt. Fingering both holes always sped things up considerably and so barely two minutes later I started squirting, drenching a small area of the carpet between my legs. One stain more or less, I thought to myself.
Fulfilled, I sat down on my ass, my back resting against the bed and after wiping my hands on the bed spread, I reached for the remote and started going through the channels again. About half an hour later, I got up and got dressed, heading for the local restaurant to have a hot meal and a stiff drink. With nothing else on my mind or to do, my thoughts wondered back to the carpet and to what I had been doing. By the end of dinner, I was so fucking horny again that I headed over to adjacent bar where I let myself get picked up by the first guy who put in an effort. He was a truck driver, and although I was really horny, I wasn't about to go and fuck in his truck, so we headed back to my room.
There, I sucked his cock for about five minutes, then let him mount me and screw me for a little while and finally let him fuck me like a dog. The harder he slammed into me, the louder I asked for it. He wasn't the best fuck I had ever had, but he managed to scratch my itch, which was pretty much all I expected from these encounters. When I woke up several hours later, he had already left. As I got up to turn off the lights and lock the door from the inside, I noticed the little carpet in front of the bed. I also noticed something glistening on it. Since the homeless guy's cum and my fluids should have dried up by now, I squatted down for a closer look.
To my surprise, I noticed a big glob of fresh cum clinging in the grungy, pink fabric. When I thought about it, I couldn't remember if and where the truck driver had cum. I had had a pretty decent orgasm, but I couldn't recall what he had done with his load. Well, I did now. From the looks of things, he had jacked off on the carpet, which was an interesting choice to say the least. He could have dumped his juicy cum anywhere on me. Heck, I could have woken up with my face plastered, which wouldn't have been the worst thing in the world!
I smiled as I turned off the light and closed the door, turning in for the night. It surely was a strange coincidence that three persons had pleasured themselves on this outdated, vile little carpet. Not one to believe in something more than coincidence, I fell asleep relatively easy. The next morning, I hopped into the shower, got dressed and packed my bag, which only took about two minutes. After putting my bag in the trunk and handing back my key to the front desk, I headed over to the diner for a hearty breakfast and a strong cup of coffee. As I had taken a window seat, I had a clear view of the motel. I had barely finished my first cup of coffee when I noticed a guy from house cleaning entering my room.
I don't know how long it normally takes to clean a room, but after I had finished my breakfast and had had four cups of coffee, he was still in there. I decided to pay and head for the car. Unfortunately, as I was halfway to my car, still parked in front of the room, the guy finally walked out with the carpet under his arm. When he saw me, he walked up to me and asked, "Is this yours? It's not standard issue."
I could have lied, but I decided to not to make a scene. I was sure to have an opportunity to dump it somewhere else, so I nodded and took the carpet from him. Once again, my hand landed in something gooey.
Out of reflex, I redrew my hand, causing the carpet to fall to the ground. As we both squatted down to pick it up, I casually glanced at his crotch and noticed that his fly was open. Because of his squatting position, the head of his flaccid cock was visible behind his open zipper, and on top of that, his piss hole was still wet with cum. As soon as he caught me looking, he let go of the carpet and immediately zipped up. He hurried back into the room and closed the door behind him. Well, at least now I knew what my handed landed in just moment before.
Although I made sure to touch the carpet in a completely different spot when picking it up, I still ended up with some more cum on my fingers. I sighed, decided to ignore it once again and threw the carpet in the backseat, then wiped the cum on my fingers off on the front of my skirt, no doubt leaving a stain. As I got in and drove off, I started thinking. I had to admit that the number of coincidences was getting hard to ignore. Why did my fingers always land in gooey cum when I touched the carpet? Why did the truck driver dump his load on the carpet instead of on me? Why did the guy from house cleaning jack his morning load onto my pink, disgusting carpet? These and many more questions kept me preoccupied the first ten minutes of my trip.
When I suddenly saw a sign for a do-it-yourself carwash, I got an idea that would surely put an end to all these crazy coincidences. I drove to the most isolated car wash stall and took out the carpet, laying it next to the car on the concrete. As usual, I had cum on my fingers from picking it up, but after wiping them on my skirt a second time, I got down to business.
I used three big squirts of car wash detergent, a power brush and a high pressure water hose for about three minutes to get rid of any dirt as well any lingering bodily fluids.
Then, I used some rope from the trunk to tie the pink carpet - a lot cleaner but still with a grungy look - to the roof. I drove off, letting the wind take care of the drying. I drove for hours and I had almost forgotten about it, but when I stopped to get some gas, I decided to put my theory to the test. After taking it down, I ran my hand over every inch of fabric, back and front and was relieved to find only dry, cool fabric. I smiled and as I put the rope back in the trunk, I hung the carpet over the head rest of the passenger's seat next to me. Now that I had cleaned it so thoroughly, maybe I could find some use for it.
Without any further crazy theories floating around in my head, I resumed my journey. I smiled several times at myself for having a weak moment and almost believing in something supernatural. About half an hour later, I got stuck in a major traffic jam. Out of boredom, I started looking around, both inside the car and outside. When I casually glanced at the little carpet, draped over the head rest next to me, I noticed something dangling down from the bottom of it: a thick, white rope of fat cum, about half of it still clinging to the fabric! I couldn't believe it! I had checked it comprehensively before putting it back in the car; it had been perfectly dry...
After glancing at it again - to make sure I wasn't daydreaming - I turned my head away from it and stared out my window. If there hadn't been about a dozen witnesses at that moment, I would have tossed the damn thing out of the window. I just sat there for a few minutes, thinking of how to handle the situation. When I glanced at it again, even more of the cum rope was showing, now only clinging to the fabric by a fraction of its total length.
Annoyed and pissed off, I said, "If you wanna cum, then cum already!"
To my surprise, the cum rope splashed against the textile of the passenger's seat. It didn't just drop down, some other force than gravity hurled it towards the seat. As a defensive measure - to keep myself from having to explain the inexplicable and to keep some form of my sanity intact - I decided to act tough.
"What? Is that it? Don't hold back on my account, if you wanna shoot again, by all means, the whole seat is yours!" I said, pretending to have some form of control over the situation.
I had barely spoken those words or two more huge globs splashed against the dark fabric of the seat cover, giving it a disgusting look. "Why stop there?" I asked as I tweaked my left nipple, realizing this was making me horny. "Why don't you take a shot at the dashboard?"
