Message-ID: <42418asstr$1052813403@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20030513012312.29231.qmail@web20512.mail.yahoo.com> From: Philip Harris X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 12 May 2003 18:23:12 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} The Noname Motel (MF,prostitution,F-solo,oral) Date: Tue, 13 May 2003 04:10:03 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw The Noname Motel (MF,prostitution,F-solo,oral) by Philip Harris It was almost nine o'clock at night when I reached Albuquerque. The long desert drive from Flagstaff was brutal for a midwestern boy like myself. My rental car had become covered with fine yellow dust. I pulled off the highway at the first exit ramp where I could see more than two motel signs. There I tried motel after motel, but all the big chain places were full. There was only one more motel I could try, its sign barely visible behind an industrial park. Above the vacancy sign it said only Motel; there was no other name. I took my one luggage bag from my car's trunk, and lifted my heavy camera case to my shoulder. All of the lenses and camera bodies would need cleaning tonight--damn the yellow dust. The motel lobby was hotter even than the outside air. A box fan sat on the floor blowing the heat around, and a second box fan stood on the check-in counter, blowing the heat back again. There was a girl on the phone--no; her sweaty breasts, ostentatiously displayed by her plunging, open shirt, showed that she was very much a woman. She spared me barely a flick of her eyelids, and then ignored me for 15 minutes while she spoke in Spanish to whomever was on the other end of the line. I knew only enough Spanish to understand she was arguing with someone that they had to work tonight because the rooms were almost all full. I was hot and tired, but I waited patiently because I needed a bed for the night and didn't want to be turned out to the highway again. When she finally put down her telephone she rolled her chair to the reception counter and leaned forward in an enticing way that instantly made me forgive her my long wait. "Welcome," she said with very pleasent sincerity She was very good at being likable. The room price was cheap, only $35. I got the room nearest to the office. "Twelve is the special channel," she said as I took my room key. I didn't understand that, but I said nothing anyway. The room smelled of cigarettes, and of heavy perfume to mask the cigarettes. There was no air conditioning, just a slowly turning ceiling fan. I showered, wearing my shower flip-flops into the bedroom too because the carpet was dirty. It was too hot to wear clothes so I sat on the edge of the bed and cleaned my camera gear while dressed only in my underwear. I'd had no supper. Eating would have to wait until breakfast. At 11 o'clock I turned on the room TV and watched the news. After that I started surfing the other channels. Oh, this is what she meant by channel 12 being the special channel. Channel 12 showed a woman applying a very big, knobby dildo deep within her pussy. It was a long, rubbery phallus. She sat on a bed, her legs spread for the camera, working the dildo for a quite a long time. Her climax wasn't easy to achieve. It took a lot of effort from her. The poor girl obviously needed a man, and found tortured difficulty in self-release. Finally a good deal of wetness gushed from her pussy, making me relieved and happy for her. I couldn't help myself from playing along. My arousal was interrupted by a knock at the door. A glance at the clock showed that it had just then turned midnight. There was no peephole, so I parted the curtain and saw that the motel receptionist was outside. I was in only my underwear, totally erect, but with sudden insight I knew why she was here. As I opened the door she asked, "Do you want company tonight?" She'd started to recite it as if by rote, but half way through her sentence she looked down at my taut briefs, smiled in an amused way, and came into the room without waiting for my answer. Before closing the door I had time to notice that at least two other girls were also making the rounds of the motel rooms. As soon as I shut the room door my new guest knelt on the floor, pulled down my shorts, slipped something into her mouth, and began sucking my cock and teasing my balls. Somehow during that she'd slipped a condom onto me. "How much?" I asked, but she stopped sucking only long enough to pull her shirt off. What tits! She was wearing a bra, but it was just a lacy support, open at the nipples. She started sucking me again right away. "We . . . ooh . . . should talk about price first," I tried to say, but she was very good at cock sucking and I was already close to explosion. I couldn't tear myself away from her although I was trying to. I've traveled about enough to know what a prostitute's price is if you don't bargain ahead of time--all the money you have. She pulled my cock from her mouth just before I came. Slipping the condom off me, she quickly stroked me to splashing orgasm right over her tits. My cum oozed downward between her breasts. Before I'd even finished cumming she had my cock between her boobs, and was fucking it with her cleavage. She had me fucking her tits with my own cum. She cleaned my cock off quickly with some kind of very soft towellette, taken from a purse that she'd brought with her. Then she used another towellette to finger-clean between her breasts. I wondered how many men's semen her bra had been soaked with. "Do you like to take pictures?" she asked, indicating all of my camera gear around the room. She took her bra off and towellette-cleaned the rest of her breasts, sucking her own nipples for a finale. Her skirt and panties came off in one movement. Taking a vibrator and several condom packets from her purse, she got into my bed. "Can we talk about the money first?" I asked, hurriedly grabbing up my camera gear and stuffing most of it away into my camera case to prevent its theft. I quickly twisted a wide-angle lens onto a camera body that I knew was loaded with Kodachrome. "We talk about money afterward," she said. "It depends on what we do." She said this with such inticing promise that I shut up about money, feeling like a jerk for having mentioned it. I got fresh batteries into my smallest flash unit, clipped it into the hot shoe, and started snapping away. Covering a hundred car races in my younger days had taught me to load and shoot fast. She started with one finger first, just inside her pussy lips. Her wetness was genuine; it came from within. Then she two-finger fucked deeply, spreading her juice on her nipples and sucking her fingers. That pussy must have known a lot of cocks, I thought. She was very brave to taste it. "Do you want to taste?" she asked suddenly, offering with her fingers. It declined. "It tastes good," she teased, sucking her fingers again. And now the dildo. She spread her legs, arching her hips to give me a good view. I got some really excellent pictures. She only interrupted for a moment, to grab a towel out of the bedside table drawer. I'd never have expected to find a towel there. She triple-folded the towel and placed it underneath her. "Do you want to fuck me," she asked, "or have me cum like this?" I had her continue as she was. She lay full upon the bed and dildoed herself to a gush. The towel caught her juices, and my camera caught everything else. She dildoed through three rolls of film. "Now we fuck," she said. "I really couldn't," I told her. "You made me cum so good before." "I make you cum again," she said. "I bet I make you cum again." Two girls were climaxing loudly on the television, which was still on during all this time. This woman in my bed looked terrific. Her open, just-gushed-with-cum pussy seemed irresistible. The eroticism of the moment was overpowering. "I promise I can make you cum," she said, "I promise you can have me until you do. I promise you own me for as long as you need." She knew her business. I was hesitating from lack of confidence, but she her coaxing was impossible to refuse. Hers was the promise of a professional. I put my camera down. She swiftly brought me to half erection with her fingers, firm enough for her to slip a condom on me. That's when I fear losing it, during the condom fumble, but her technique was perfect. By the time the condom was on me I was as hard as a teenager. Then she went to work with her mouth and made me feel like a steel rod. "Me on top," she said. I lay on the bed and she mounted me, her pussy clinching with insistent passion while she breast-bounced above me. She took my hands and cupped them to her breasts, spanking her own ass hard as if whipping herself to fuck better. Her sex noises were loving and sweet. She tore my cum from me. I can't put it another way. She demanded it with her whole body. Her breasts begged me to cum. Her pussy pleaded for my semen, her ass squashed it from my balls. "Oh, you are fucking me so well," she praised just as I was cumming. "I have to use the shower first," she said, popping in and out of the motel room's shower in only a minute, her hair somehow still dry. "You make love good," she said. "Can I have copies of the pictures?" I promised to send her some, although I never asked her name or where to send them. It was $100 for the blowjob, $300 for the fuck, and $600 for the pictures, another $100 in tip for excellent service. She accepted a credit card. As I heard her knocking on another room door I wondered: how am I going to charge all that to National Geographic? --- The author appreciates comments at pharris_online@yahoo.com --------------------------------- Do you Yahoo!? The New Yahoo! Search - Faster. Easier. Bingo. <1st attachment begin> <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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