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| Girls' Nightmare Out | Back to N | Back to main page |
Collected by Djian
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Girls' Nightmare Out
Rogue Alan
11/0-9/02, revision 2/03
(tattoo/piercing; cheat; stranger; interracial; gang bang; exhibitionism; anal;
prostitution; bondage; lesbianism; mind control; rape)
Part 19
"Finally!" Jeff said, as he eyed her from the doorway to his den. Melissa had
barely showered, she'd been in such a hurry to get home. Still, the clock had
been chiming twelve when she entered the hall from the kitchen. "Hope you had
a good time." She was getting used to that tone. A semi-sarcastic, resigned
pessimism she'd never known in him.
At first it'd made her feel guilty, but after a couple weeks, during which time
he'd proven that he'd rather play the part of the put-upon spouse, than
addressing any real issue, she was almost happier avoiding him. She meant to
do that again, shrugging and saying, "It was OK, but it's good to be home." as
she passed him in the hallway. He reached out though, catching her waist, and
not so gently.
"Where were you?" he demanded.
Melissa blinked, reviewing what lies she'd told that night. Kathy was home, so
she hadn't had that as an excuse. "I stayed late doing lesson plans, you hate
it when I do them here."
"All night?"
"Of course not!" she replied, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes ablaze
at his suggestion, truth be damned. "I graded some papers, then went to join
some of the others who'd gone to Tom Fooleries." Which was true, at least that
they'd gone there. "Why?" she asked, staring up at Jeff, wondering if he
suspected somehow.
"I drove by to surprise you... you've been so busy, I thought we might... I
thought we'd do something together."
She noticed that his grip hadn't gotten any lighter as he asked, "You were
there all night?"
She shrugged again. "Nope. I'd missed them by the time I got there. So I went
into Barnes and Noble for awhile, then had a bite at the Canyon Caf&Mac226;. I'm
sorry, I should've called, but you had that late meeting. And the boys had
practice, and I'd said I was going to be late..." she replied, as she turned
slightly and looked over his shoulder at his computer screen.
At the top there was an inch tall blonde gyrating in an endless loop, bending
over and waggling her naked ass at the viewer. Her eyes moved to the web page
that was open, and without thinking she spoke.
"Oh my God! What are you looking at?" she exclaimed.
He read her tone as disgust, which was a good thing. But it was really terror.
"Hey, it's not like I'm cheating!" he pushed her back, blocking her view, "It's
not like you've shown any interest lately either. I'd heard about this site at
work... well, not this site... a site that puts a list of new pictures up each
day."
"That's obscene!" she exclaimed again and turned away, as if he hadn't blocked
her view of the screen. The image remained behind her eyes and she added,
"Horrid."
"I dunno," he shrugged, "It's not like those women don't want what they're
getting... they apparently like sex!"
Melissa ignored the shot, his second in less than a minute. She paused, trying
to remember when they'd last had sex. She wasn't sure. And she didn't know if
she cared. All she knew was that she didn't want to push the issue, or have
him look too closely, since the masked women being used by several black men
were she and Kathy. She remembered the title at the top of the page, Big Dog's
Blacks on Blondes. As she turned forcefully in his grip, her hip brushed
against his pelvis, and she felt his erection. She recoiled at the thought
that the images of her being used like that aroused him.
"Does that excite you?" she asked without thinking, "Is that what you want? Do
you want me to let you and your friends degrade me like that?"
He snorted. "Puhleeze... as if you could." something inside of Melissa
flickered and died at his words. This wasn't the man that she'd married. He
was still talking though, "... do share a matching taste if what's that you
call it? Body Art? Maybe she's the slut you saw in Vegas."
"You didn't mind the change a month ago." she seethed.
"I was still getting some a month ago." he retorted, one hand reaching up to
cup her pierced breast forcefully, "What's with you? Is that all you need now?
Do you get yourself off with those piercings so you don't need a man?"
"Go fuck yourself!" she almost shouted, barely remembering the boys, "Go back
to your computer and beat off, you little man!"
His face was a mask of rage, as he caught hold of her blouse in his hand,
propelling her backwards down the hall towards their room.
"Little man?" he snarled, "Little man! Let's see if I can't make you say
different. You're my wife! I won't take that shit from you!" he said keeping a
hold of her, and as they passed into the dark bedroom, he paused long enough
to kick the door closed, but he didn't let go of her. He pushed her onto her
back on the bed, laughing as her blouse tore open in his hands. She lay frozen
in terror, as he yanked at her skirt, ripping her panties away. There was a
pause, during which she heard him open his pants. He stepped away from the bed,
and she let out a breath, assuming that he'd come to his senses. A moment later
though, his weight was on top of her, as he drove his hips into her savagely.
She winced, having washed the lubricant from her sex before heading home, but
before the discomfort increased too much, he was all of the way inside of her.
She dimly felt him bite at a naked nipple, thankfully it was the unpierced
side.
"Is that small? Huh? Have you forgotten? I'll bet that's it. You're so busy
hanging out with Miss Too Good For Anyone, and playing Miss Perfect Teacher to
consider having sex." he said, as he pumped into her relentlessly, "I shouldn't
have been so calm about it. I should've reminded you sooner about what gets
you off!" he said panting, and she realized that he was already close to
cuming.
She closed her eyes, fighting back her tears at finding what a sham her
marriage really was. And not because he suspected her of infidelity, or at
least, not mostly because of that. Scared of what he'd do if she didn't react,
Melissa let the 'pro' that she'd become take over, arching her back and moaning
softly, her fingers digging into the back of the man rutting into her.
"Uh huh, see? I told you that I could remind you of just what you needed." he
exclaim, stopping and giving a groaning sigh, as he came inside of her.
He held himself over her, thrusting fully home a few times more, like any John
she'd ever known, then rolled off of her to lay panting beside her on the
still made bed. Within two minutes, she could tell by his breathing that he
was asleep. She leaned over sniffing, hoping that he'd been drinking. There
was no odor on his breath. She lay back, enduring the bout of shakes that
wracked her body, as she relived what had just happened. For an awful moment
she wondered if he had decided that was the way he liked sex, and if that
would forever be the way that they would have sex.
She got up from the bed, padding down the hall into the guest bathroom in her
ruined clothes, and dropping to her knees by the toilet, before becoming
violently ill. As she sat on the cold tile, her forehead against the porcelain
stool, she wondered how things had gotten so upside down. It nearly made her
vomit again, when she found herself hoping that James would call, offering a
pleasant interlude from the hell that her home life had become.
Heedless of how she looked, she went into the sitting room, pouring herself a
healthy dose of the bourbon that she was replacing several times a week. As
the liquid warmth moved through her, taking away some of the horror of the
night's end, she returned to the den. The high-speed Internet connection was
on full time, so she only needed to move the mouse, and the images of her
'enjoying herself', as Jeff had put it, were before her. She knew that Kathy
had her own email address at work, and quickly copied the address to a note,
warning her not to simply pull it up where anyone could see.
Having sent the warning and website to her friend, she back paged to a 'Daily
Thumbs' page, that like Jeff had said, offered an endless string of 'new'
images of named porn actresses and 'amateurs'. It looked to Melissa like Jeff
had viewed most of the sites. She'd read in some weekly, that 90% of men
regularly viewed porn on the Internet, but hadn't expected it from Jeff.
Shaking again, she realized that she wasn't really mad at his looking, she
could remember a time when she'd eyed passing men with girlfriends, making
quiet appraisals of the 'possibles', and he wasn't cheating, and she knew that
she hadn't really been there to satisfy him for several weeks. She could at
least admit that. She'd lost it though, at the thought that he found out about
her double life, by a dumb accident, and at the fear that other pictures might
be out there that she couldn't deny.
It scared her too, that she'd felt nothing but revulsion, as he was rutting
into her, even acknowledging that she'd neglected him. He hadn't been loving,
wasn't gentle or caring either, and hadn't appreciated that she'd put up with
it willingly, and most importantly, hadn't even begun to arouse her. Melissa
returned to the bedroom after a long hesitation, wondering if he ever would
again.
The next morning Jeff was already gone when she awoke, and it was too late to
consider showering before work. She looked at her reflection in dismay, making
a minimal effort to look presentable. At least she wouldn't be in the same
clothes. She found the note on her vanity.
"Sorry I overreacted. Let's talk tonight when I get home, after 10, late
meeting. Love, Jeff."
She reread the note, then crumpled it up, wondering what sort of 'meeting' he
had, and angry that he'd so lightly treated what had happened. She tossed back
her morning double, while fuming over his apparent attitude, and welcomed the
familiar glow that made it matter less. Appropriately supplied to endure the
day, she climbed into her car to head to school, having packed lunches and
made sure that the alarms would wake her sons in time for their classes.
On the way to work, she considered the dream that had awakened her. Whereas
she'd gone to bed anything but aroused, she woke up on the slippery edge of
climax, nearly shouting James' name. Not Jeff. Not Tom. Something about the
stranger who'd been with her the night before still resonated within her. After
assuring herself that Jeff wasn't there, she'd indulged in her body's need,
fingering herself to a satisfying climax, using her memory of the night before
to continue her dream, rather than change it. As she sat at a light, a half
smile on her face, as she relived the dream, and what it had done for her, she
was surprised, but not uncomfortably so, that she didn't feel guilty. Telling
herself that it would help her to get through the rest of her 'debt', she
decided that she was glad that she was hoping that Jordan would call.
Kathy sat down at her terminal and logged on, pulling down her bosses' emails
and then her own, reviewing and sorting, as her predecessors had the blizzard
of paper messages. She put Melissa's message off until last, expecting a brief,
sanitized, version of the night before. After reading the cryptic message and
it's accompanying warning, Kathy stared at the screen, trying to decide what
to do.
She got up abruptly, printing the note, then deleting it completely, before
directing the others' mail to their electronic boxes with appropriate notes.
Jotting a note that she would be back, she hurried to the elevator, the single
sheet of paper clutched in one hand, and took it downstairs to the research
area. Company policy prohibited 'personal surfing' and she knew the main
terminals were monitored for such, but the research terminals were used to
gather all sorts of information for various cases, much of the data
'questionable' by moral standards. Better, to promote use of the system, which
had been invaluable in several cases, those systems were always on-line, and
were not monitored. She was lucky to find an open unit, but reasoned the law
clerks, lawyer wannabes, mostly, who did the majority of the searches were
seldom seen before 9:00.
Checking that no one was nearby, Kathy quickly typed the address line into the
header and pressed enter. Puzzlement gave way to shock, as the title appeared,
followed by the minimized thumbnails of her and Melissa putting out for a
group of naked black men. There was no doubt that it was them, and Kathy
wondered if Jeff had seen it, and realized what was happening. She decided not,
Melissa wouldn't have just emailed her if that had been true. She also
considered whether Fred would recognize her, and quickly discounted that
possibility, he barely knew what she looked like any more.
She guessed that it might mean that they had some leverage, but there was no
telling what Tom was pulling in on this little side business, but Kathy guessed
that they could shave some of their debt off by knowing about it. That would
require proof, however. She quickly saved each of the images, as well as the
master page and the URL, to one of the blank CD ROM's lying around the room.
After a thought, she burned a second and third copy, before ending the burn
program.
Pocketing the disc, she deleted the history reference and returned to her desk,
tucking the disc into it's plastic protective sleeve, and then into her purse.
Locking the purse in her desk drawer, she took enough additional time to visit
the ladies room, the pictures, including some of Michael thrusting into her
from behind, had left her sufficiently aroused that she needed to masturbate
quickly, in order to get on with the day's activities.
Safely back at her desk, she found herself hoping each time the phone rang,
that it would be Mike, asking her to join him that night. The thought that he
would soon be in charge of their debt, kept her on the edge of needing another
trip to the bathroom.
Twice Melissa was nearly caught taking a drink, and the way the fourth grade
teacher eyed her, she suspected the sour biddy knew what she had hidden in her
purse, and her car and her desk. Aware of what would happen if she was caught,
she went out for lunch, relocating all of her stash to her car. And like Kathy,
she found herself hoping for a phone call, wishing that Jim would ask to be
with her again. She called home when school was out, and she finished her
lesson plans. The boys were home, but were going to friends for dinner.
Instead of going home, Melissa sat at her desk, trying to understand just how
she'd gotten into such a situation, and to guess where it would lead. She
absently opened her purse and checked her cell phone, surprised to find the
screen blank. When she plugged it in, she found that she had no fewer than
four messages.
The first was from Kathy, suggesting that they meet. The second was from Mike,
telling her that he could 'put the John off' but gloating that she 'must've
really put out', because the guy from the night before was interested in
'another taste'. Grimacing at the man's leering tone, she nevertheless felt an
emotional lift, Jim must have really enjoyed himself. But before calling back,
she reviewed the other messages.
Kathy had called again, saying simply she'd been called by Mike, and that she
hoped that they could 'share an excuse', adding that they should talk at the
dive bar near the apartment 'before work'. The final message had been an
exasperated Mike, threatening to revert to the cryptic home and work messages
if she didn't check her voice mail more often, and giving her a deadline to
respond, before he told the John that she was 'otherwise engaged'.
Afraid of what that might mean to Jim, Melissa glanced at the clock. She had
less than five minutes to call Mike, and give an OK. As she dialed Tom's
number, since he'd turned his cell phone over to his new partner, she admitted
that at least he'd given her a choice. Tom would've told her when and where he
wanted her. She wondered how long it would be before Mike adopted that
attitude.
She met Kathy for a drink, before they headed to the apartment to get ready.
Kathy explained that she saw the site, and planned to talk to Michael about
how much extra time they were credited for it, since 'Internet sales' hadn't
been discussed in the release that she knew that they'd signed. Melissa was
hesitant to confront Tom, remembering the way that he'd punished her the last
time, but her friend was so certain that Michael would listen, and be
reasonable, that she hadn't argue.
She also didn't let on that she was actually looking forward to her 'date'
tonight, or that Kathy seemed positively aglow at the prospect of seeing
Michael. While she honestly loved her friend, Kathy's obvious devotion to
their new pimp was unsettling. Especially compared to Tom, who was no prince,
Melissa thought the man was a lech. The ride from the bar to the apartment was
made in silence.
Breaking her usual routine, Melissa actually showered before getting ready to
meet Jim. As she stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the towel in the
basket, and walking naked to the closet, she saw Michael and Kathy talking in
the corner. His eyes followed her across the room, but her friend seemed not
to notice it, despite the fact that she was staring adoringly at their pimp.
Melissa realized that galled her, that he knew the way Kathy felt about him,
and used it to his advantage, and the same realization also doomed their prior
hope for a shorter sentence, as Kathy had termed it. Even before Kathy
approached her a moment later, she knew that the website would mean no fewer
tricks, and she was right.
"Michael explained that they calculate the web sales into our totals." she
explained breathlessly, as she took off her blouse.
Melissa realized that her friend had removed her bra, before going to talk to
their pimp, and wondered again what her friend was thinking.
"That means it'll help us down the road, but no one knows how much." she
giggled, "He said that we should visit the site a lot, since part of the
payment that they get, is based on the number of hits."
"You're sure chipper." Melissa commented, and immediately felt guilty for the
shot, it wasn't like she was unaffected either.
Kathy merely nodded. "I have a quickie, so Michael's going to take me when I'm
done."
"Take you out? So I guess I shouldn't wait?"
Kathy blushed as she leaned over.
"No, he's going to fuck me. I'm so hot just thinking about it, I'll probably
cream, no matter what the John's doing."
"I guess that's a good thing," Melissa answered neutrally, not really able to
fault her lover. After all, she hadn't bothered to add any lubricant to her
pussy before she'd begun to dress. She'd felt strangely nervous, paying more
attention to her make-up, and putting it on more tastefully than Tom had
counseled for her usual work. She was ashamed to admit to herself, that she
almost hadn't put any condoms into her purse. Like it or not, both women were
adapting to their situation, focusing on the few positives that existed in the
world of a whore.
Kathy jumped up, clearly primed to do her trick and return for some of
Michael's attention. But Melissa didn't mind her friend's impatience, closing
her things into her locker, and joining her on the short walk to the hotel.
"You're early!" he exclaimed.
Jordan was seated in one of the shadowed booths, when Melissa hesitantly
looked into the dim room. She smiled and nodded, suddenly feeling happier than
she had all day. She hurried toward the table, but he met her half way. The
change in him was striking, he wasn't as hesitant as he'd been, and she
wondered with some concern, if other things would change as well.
"You're ready to go upstairs." she murmured, after accepting a full kiss from
her 'date'. Part of her had hoped to get a drink first.
"Oh no, unless you're in a hurry." Jordan said, taking her arm, and leading
her again toward the garage. "I thought we'd go to the Herford House. It's
there by Bazooka's."
"I know," she blushed, wondering if that made him think she'd been in the
strip club.
"You know you don't have to do this." she offered.
He nodded, then said, "I want to. This may be business for you, but I'm going
to treat it like a real date."
"I like that, and you. And it's not just business for me either." Melissa
surprised herself, as she actually meant that.
"But it's business for your..." he glanced at the desk clerk, who eyed them
knowingly as they passed, though he wasn't speaking loudly enough for the
snot to hear them, "manager."
Melissa looked around. "I'd rather not talk about him."
Jordan stiffened, "Is something wrong? Is he threatening you? Did I do
something to get you in trouble?"
Melissa smiled at his outrage but couldn't bring herself to admit the truth.
Any more than she was willing to deny it, even if it was another of Tom's
traps. She just shook her head slightly, trying not to look sad.
"I'll be glad you want to be with me then," Jordan said, nodding his head
decisively, "and we'll leave that discussion until later. I hope that you know
that I don't want to force anything on you."
"You're not. Honestly. In fact, I was hoping that you'd call." she said,
blushing again.
"Then we'll definitely have to talk." He eyed her meaningfully, "I need to
know what's wrong, so that I can fix it."
For a moment Melissa allowed herself to imagine her 'sugar daddy' buying her
out from under Tom's cruel debt. But she knew that wouldn't happen. Couldn't
happen. And if it did, what would that mean for her marriage, she'd simply
have traded one owner for another. She was glad when Jim didn't press the
issue.
The ride to the restaurant was short and quiet. He turned the Lexus SC over to
a valet, the Crown Vic was kept, separate to reduce the chance that she'd
notice him when he was following her in her real life. He escorted the
beautiful, and he was beginning to realize, distressed call girl inside. He
spoke quietly to the hostess, asking for something intimate, and they were
early enough that she was able to accommodate them, providing them an alcove
booth for two.
Melissa suggested that he order for them both, and he didn't miss her relief,
when he ordered a bottle of wine to go with the meal. He guessed that she was
walking the ragged edge of having a problem with the booze, another suggestion
that all was not as it seemed. Even so, she smiled and talked openly about
herself, laughing at his good jokes, groaning at the bad ones, and managed to
eat more of her meal, than she had the night before.
Leaning back after the waitress had cleared the plates, he asked if she wanted
dessert. Smiling suggestively, she said she was waiting to get back to 'his
place' for that. She blushed, as she spoke, and he realized that she actually
meant that, yet another surprise. She abruptly excused herself to the ladies'
room and he pondered how the different lives that she was leading must conflict,
as she moved into the hall. He was surprised when she reappeared seconds later,
skin deathly pale, eyes wide, almost panting.
"Melissa!" he rose, reaching for her in alarm. She sagged against him, her
eyes fluttering slightly. He could feel her shaking.
"Get me out of here!" she murmured. Concerned about her, and about himself in
case Tom had somehow twigged, and about whatever it was that could affect her
so, Jordan threw enough money to cover the dinner and a tip on the table, as
he half supported and half carried her out, asking the valet to hurry up as he
waved a twenty at the man.
He hoped it was the man's glance at the clearly distressed woman that propelled
him into the lot, but knew from sad experience, that greed is often the more
powerful motivator. While they waited Melissa seemed to calm down a bit. She
pulled him forcefully back against the building, out of the line of sight of
the restaurant's door and front windows.
His sense of self-preservation fully active, she seemed to be hiding from
something, or some one terrible, it was a struggle for Jordan to keep his hand
away from the AMT backup 9 mm hideout automatic, that he'd tucked into the
back of his pants. Melissa otherwise ignored his repeated questions, her eyes
blinking unseeingly, as she leaned against him and the wall. The shaking
recurred every few seconds, lasting for a breath or two, before passing.
A moment later, the sleek silver Lexus was before them. The dash that she made
to the passenger door was the first independent action that she'd made since
he grabbed her beside their table. Eyeing the restaurant, the whole time that
he moved around the car, and paid the grateful, but curious valet, as he
slipped behind the wheel. The tires were hissing on the pavement before his
door had closed. He looked at Melissa, expecting her eyes to be locked on the
passing glass store fronts, but they were caged straight ahead, fixed on
nothingness.
She was barely aware of the car's motion, or of Jordan's concern, as he watched
her. She kept asking herself if she'd really seen him, but she knew that it
was true. Turning the corner toward the ladies' room, she'd caught a clear
image of Jeff's meeting. It wasn't an office meeting, he was seated at an
angle to a painfully thin redhead. Their fingers were twined, and as she
watched, the woman's foot brushed suggestively over her husband's calf, to the
man's obvious pleasure.
He'd said something and she nodded, reaching for her glass, as he speared the
last morsel of steak on his plate. The redhead somehow sensed that she was
being watched then, and she glanced up, smiling knowingly at Melissa. The
emotionless, professional 'leave him alone, this one's mine!' glare that
Melissa had seen used on occasion in the make-up room at the apartment, had
distorted the woman's otherwise stunning face.
Spinning on her heels before Jeff had noticed the change, Melissa had fled to
her own table, fighting for breath, and at the same time struggling not to
scream or cry. He was cheating on her, and it was by his own choice.
It seemed that they hit every light on the way back to the hotel. The trip
took long enough that she'd recovered somewhat by the time that they pulled
into the garage. Time enough that the shock and humiliation had become a
simmering anger. She checked her appearance in the mirror, not too bad. The
last thing that she wanted to do, was to attract Michael or Tom's attention,
assuming that they were watching the lobby.
Jordan made no effort to get out of the car, after he killed the engine. He
tentatively reached over, covering her hand with his. Looking up at him, she
bit her lip, aware of her keen need to be with someone right then.
"Can you talk about it?" he asked.
"Afterwards." she said. "Right now I want you to make love to me."
He nodded, still worried about her reaction, and more importantly, what had
caused it, but worried as well at the way that a part of him had reacted to
what she'd just said.
"You're sure?" he asked.
She nodded, managing a smile, as she pulled him to her, kissing him
passionately.
"I guess that's answer enough for me." He checked the clock on the dash, "Do
we have time?"
There was a curious pause before she nodded, and then said, "Tonight I'm all
yours, but..."
"But what?" he queried.
She looked down, not wanting to answer. "I need to feel you inside of me now.
I want to lay beside you, to be with you more than I could last night, but I
have to go get my things first, my real things. Otherwise, I can't let him
know what I'm doing, or there'll be trouble."
She watched him, and he saw the fear in her eyes. He wondered just what Tom
had done to her in the past, that she was so skittish suddenly.
"That takes a lot of trust to say to me."
She nodded. "I'll earn that trust."
She smiled briefly, though he could see the fear that remained in her eyes.
"We should go upstairs." he suggested.
She nodded, and they returned to the hotel hand in hand. With each moment as
they moved through the quiet atrium to the elevator, and into the faux gilt
cage of the elevator, the thought of what she was about to be doing with this
quiet man, built within Melissa a fierce arousal. Before the doors had closed
fully, the pretty blonde teacher had turned, pressing herself boldly against a
relative stranger, not caring who saw her wanton advance, hungry to be with
him, to feel him within her, once more.
He responded instinctively, amazed at how quickly the woman had shifted from a
strange mix of anger and despair, to a passion so strong that he could almost
feel her body humming. He was dimly aware that her hands were nearly tearing
his shirt, she was working so frantically to free the tail. Heedless of the
tiny pistol that he had pushed away from the back of the elevator, letting her
jerk the shirt over the weapon's holster, her fingers never nearing the
leather or grip of the gun.
His erection jolted, as her fingers slipped beneath the cotton of his pants
and boxers, running over his skin, her nails scratching lightly. She broke
their passionate kiss, after fifteen or twenty seconds, burying her face where
his shoulder met his neck, murmuring her need, as she pressed herself against
his crotch. This wasn't the almost shy, carefully subservient woman he'd known
before, and Jordan sensed that this was somehow the real Melissa.
His breath caught, as her fingers found the tab of the zipper, and before he
could voice an objection, she had his pants half open, her fingers desperately
but gently tugging at his shaft. The cool air was proof that she'd succeeded
in exposing him, and unable to think clearly enough to worry about what might
happen, Jordan sagged against the wall of the car, as the petite blonde slid
languidly down his body and took him eagerly in her mouth.
He gripped the rail with both hands, as her head bobbed feverishly. She was
taking his substantial length completely, and again he was amazed at the skills
that she displayed, though such rational thought quickly vanished, as she
built him toward climax. He was ready to shout, as the bell chimed and the car
jolted, slowing down before it reached their floor. For a moment he considered
stopping her, aware that their display could land them in the local lock-up.
But Melissa didn't hear, or didn't care, or the risk of being caught was
fueling her own needs, because she simply sucked at him harder, holding her
face against his crotch.
A moment later, it was too late to do anything but gasp, as she carried him
over the edge, slurping up each heavy shot of his semen without coming up for
air. He was still firing into her throat, when the doors parted, luckily to
an empty hall. Aware that could change at any moment, he caught the amazing
woman at his feet by the armpits, lifting her off of his semi-erect pole. She
whined in protest, eyes clearing from the lust haze enough to remember where
they were.
She blushed prettily, but didn't protest, when he turned her, using her to
hide his open pants and flagging cock, as he guided her to his room. It was a
different room than the night before, near the top of the hotel, for which he
was glad, considering what had just happened. He could tell that the mercurial
blonde wasn't finished, as she pressed her taut rump against him with each
step in the hall. For a moment, he wondered if it really was nymphomania that
had led the pretty lady into her present lifestyle. She was certainly more
aggressive than any woman he'd ever known.
As proof, she turned while he groped in his pants for the key, wrapping her
arms around his neck, one leg rising to his waist, allowing her to grind her
pelvis against his crotch. He realized that she'd somehow stripped off her
panties, had to have done so in the elevator, and her sex was literally
dripping wet. While he wasn't as 'experienced' as the majority of his friends,
he knew that he'd never seen a woman so turned on, as Melissa was at that
moment, and he knew enough to be confident that her reaction was real. She
wasn't high, and she wasn't simply faking it, in hopes of a bigger tip.
His erection returned with uncommon speed, in response to his partner's
excitement, he felt himself slip into her velvet folds, and then heard the
throaty moan of pleasure escape her lips, as the door to his room opened. They
didn't make it to the bed for the first exchange, in fact, he barely got the
door closed. Having turned, keeping her back to the door, he allowed the
smaller woman to push him down onto his back, and then he watched, as she
caught him in a tiny hand, guiding his resurrected cock into her tight seam,
and settled onto him, with obvious relish. He opted not to touch her otherwise,
as he simply watched, in the half-light of the hall.
She was beautiful, her eyes were closed, her head dipping back every few
strokes, her lips parting slightly. Within a minute she was rutting against
him like a wild woman, with moans and cries escaping her throat with an
increasing volume and frequency. One hand rose to tangle her hair, as the
other's manicured nails pinched and pulled at her pierced nipple. She bit her
lower lip, giving a longer groan, and then he gasped, as she thrust fully
against him, holding herself in place, while her entire body spasmed. He felt
her pubic muscles contracting rhythmically, spastically, and the milking
sensation coaxing his second climax along as well.
Gritting his teeth, he tried to hold off, his big hands slipping beneath her
buttocks, intent on lifting her free of his explosion. She whimpered, leaning
forward, and clamping her knees almost painfully against his thighs.
"But there's no..." he tried to say, as his voice was strained.
"Mmmmm hmmm." she husked, her lips against his ear, "I know... I want you...
to cum... inside of me... mark me, Jim. Make me yours."
Shocked at such an image, he lost control, flooding her cunt with his second
load. It wasn't the end though. After they showered, she put on some music and
they danced together naked, losing themselves in the moment. And when his
erection returned, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her to the bed, and
making love to her, the way he had with his wife long years before.
Neither considered the change in the way they were approaching pleasure. And
while it was yet again different from the spent passion of the hour before, it
was at least as fulfilling. He marveled at the tone of her body, the way she
responded to each thrust and shift. She spurred him on, when he needed to move
faster, and welcomed the harder thrusts, as his climax approached. He felt her
shudder in her own release several times, never pausing while sharing herself
with him, and seeming never too spent to continue. Even when they'd finished,
she absently fingered her pussy, as she lay there close to him, their labored
breathing easing.
"You can't stay?" he heard himself ask.
She brought a hand up to tease the sparse, tightly curled hair on his chest.
"I can. I just have to be careful." she replied.
"I don't understand>" and he didn't. How could she stay out, if her husband
didn't know?
"If you'll wait, I'll come back. But I have to leave. I have to get my things."
"Those aren't your things?" he asked, remembering that she'd mentioned having
to change, but assumed that she wore her own clothing. The situation grew
stranger and stranger, but at the same time, he felt a familiar tingle. Not of
sexual arousal, but intuition. He was close to something important. There was
something close to a giggle before she answered.
"No. Though you may be disappointed with the 'real' me." she giggled.
He pulled her close in his arms. "That's not possible. The only disappointment
that I feel, is the thought of having to share you with anyone else." he
blinked, wondering where had that come from?
Melissa didn't react, and sure she'd heard, he guessed that she'd chose to
ignore it, as a typical John bluster.
"What can I do?"
"Well... You could walk me to the lobby. I have to walk... I have to go back
to leave these clothes, and to get my things. Then I have to find someplace
safe to leave my car."
"The garage here is monitored..."
"No." she smiled, touching his arm, "I mean someplace where my, um, my manager
won't see me. I could get in trouble otherwise."
'and not from your husband?' he wondered to himself.
"Would it be better to go someplace else?" he asked.
"You'd do that?" she replied.
He laughed, "To spend more time with you? I'm already trying to decide how to
win you away from your, um, manager."
There was a strange light in her eyes, as she looked up at him, but suddenly
it changed, the fear that he'd seen earlier, was rushing back. Her expression
grew hooded.
"You're too good." she whispered, pushing up suddenly, and groping for her
clothes with one hand, as she leaned over the edge of the bed, shielding her
breasts from his gaze with the other arm. She tottered, and Jordan almost
reached out to help her, but sensed that the last thing she could stand at
that moment was his touch. The woman was a study in contradictions.
"Oh God!" she said, seeming on the verge of tears, "I told myself that I
wouldn't let it happen again. I wouldn't do anything to make it any worse..."
As he watched with growing alarm, tears began to run down her pretty face,
streaking the already sex-smeared make-up grotesquely.
"I don't..."
"Please don't tell Tom that I did anything wrong... I didn't try to sneak
around behind his back. Please, I'll do anything!" she begged, her face paled
despite the make-up, as she rocked backward, both arms hugging her chest, "Oh
God, I'm making it worse."
She stumbled from the bed, into the bathroom. He heard her gag, heard the
toilet flush, and then the shower went on again. He waited for a minute before
padding to the open bathroom door. She had the curtain closed, but he saw that
she was curled up in a ball at one end of the tub.
"Melissa?" he paused, unsure of what to say, "What did I do? What did you do?
I don't understand." he said, opening the curtain, and then repeating the
question, as he bent down to lift her out of the tub. She shivered violently,
her pale wet skin feeling hot against his. At that moment though, the last
thing on his mind was sex, something was terribly wrong.
"Shhh, Missy," he soothed, "It's OK... I'm not telling anyone anything. Why
would I do anything to jeopardize more time with you?"
She shook her head violently, but didn't try to escape his embrace. Still
murmuring supportively, he carried her back into the bedroom. Keeping her
cradled on his naked lap, holding her against his chest with one arm, he
reached for the room phone, then thought better of it, selecting instead his
cell phone.
Trapping the tiny unit against his ear with his shoulder, he paged through the
tattered yellow pages, selecting the Doubletree Inn, at the far south end of
the city. Rocking her slightly, he made the reservation for two, making up a
name on the spot, Hinder. After hanging up, he stood up, carrying the tiny
blonde back into the bathroom to retrieve a towel. Melissa made no move to
escape, as he gently toweled her dry. But she didn't speak, either.
Wordlessly, she dressed, seeming unable to look at him, as she did so. She
picked up her clutch purse from where it lay by the door, and reached for the
knob without looking back, but he closed the distance between them, laying
a big palm flat against the thin wood of the door, holding it closed.
"Melissa? We have to talk about this."
She trembled visibly then, but nodded. Jordan hated the total defeat that he
read in her posture. What could so terrify such a beautiful, spirited woman?
He kept in physical contact with her, as she returned to the bed. Her eyes
strayed to the clock.
"I have to get going." she murmured. There was renewed fear in her voice,
something different though, in her eyes.
"OK... You already told me that. You have to get your things, whatever that
means. And you don't want your pimp," he didn't try to ease the impact of his
words, "to know we're going to be together." She nodded. "But then you'll meet
me at the Doubletree?" There was a long pause, then a tiny nod.
"I won't do anything to hurt you Melissa." and she gave him only a slightly
better nod in response. "I don't know how I can prove it to you, but I'll find
a way. I want to know what it is that scares you so much." he let her feel his
muscles bunch, "I hate that anyone, or anything could do that to you. I know
that I couldn't do anything to hurt you now. Not if I knew it would hurt you.
So please?.. I hope you'll come and stay with me tonight."
There was no visible response, but his long experience of studying people told
him that pushing any harder would only scare her off. Instead, he hurriedly
dressed, thankful that the gun had remained undetected but unwilling to leave
it behind, due to the way that she was acting. He walked with her to the
elevator, agonizing over the strained atmosphere in the same elevator in which
she'd been unable to wait to have him a couple hours before.
He wanted to hold her hand, to offer her what reassurance he could, but he
stopped dutifully when she did, at the hotel's automated revolving door. She
licked her lips, glancing around nervously.
"I hope you had a good time, sir." The saccharine smile, and tone of a whore
almost made him wince, as he nodded his agreement. "You were as good as gold,
sugar."
He managed, praying that she was acting, in case there were eyes upon them.
"I'm still not sure that I've had enough of you. I may have to talk to ol'
Michael, and get you back again sometime soon."
"Whatever you want, sir. Have a good night." she said, as she turned, exiting
through the door and turning right, toward the apartment complex next door. Of
course, he knew roughly where she was headed, but the night had left him with
far more questions than answers. And a new urgency to resolve the questions
that he had.