Prisoners of Their Own Device Ch. 01

Huddled under the covers of her modest twin bed, Lana Templeton couldn't help but stare a hole in the alarm clock on the stand to her left.

"Two- Fucking- Fourteen in the morning," she grumbled bitterly as the telltale sounds seeped into her bedroom from up the hall.

"I have to listen to this in my own Goddamn trailer," the 47 year old woman spat at the ceiling, using every bit of grit and civility in her being to keep from storming up and killing the two lovers as the rhythmic squeaks of her living room sofa strained under the weight of the fornicating pair.

"The Son-of-a-Bitch can have her and she can have him," Lana seethed, unable to keep the mental image of her Daughter fucking her live-in Boyfriend out of her mind.

Forty-Seven years worth of hard living, hard drinking and hard drugs had steeled the twice divorced Mother of three for pretty much anything life had to offer. With her oldest Daughter long up and moved out after getting knocked up by a Marine and her only Son sitting in a Minnesota prison for the next seven years on grand larceny and weapons charges, Lana's only hope for a decent relationship with her offspring was with her youngest Daughter, 19 year old Angie.

Lacking in the parenting skills department however, partly due to her own shattered childhood as well as her own adult dependency and indifference, Lana didn't do a very good job raising any of her kids. Butting heads with Angie from the moment the girl hit puberty, the teenager was passed like a hot potato between Lana and the girl's Father in Fargo until he found a new wife and kicked Angie back to Lana for good several years earlier.

And for a while things seemed to be OK.

One of the sad by-products however of living such dysfunctional lives is the need for drama is always constant.

Even though Lana had done everything she could to kick her chemical dependencies, she still had a hard time saying 'no' to a down on his luck man with a twinkle in his eye. And to a woman who had been through as much as Lana, finding any semblance of a normal and nurturing relationship was next to impossible. Even if she had found a man who treated her like a Goddess, she would have been ill-equipped to deal with that. So even though Lana had done her best to keep the Crystal Meth, Pot and Bottle in her past, her taste in men continued to leave a lot to be desired, and continued to burden her days and nights.

Which would explain why her boyfriend at the moment, a 44 year old man by the name of Pervis Tucker, was 30 feet down the hall, nailing her own Daughter on the living room sofa.

"I could be dating a stockbroker or a preacher and he'd be doing the exact same thing," Lana rightly reasoned, but deep down she knew when she coupled with a man like Pervis, who was three months removed from a five year prison stay of his own, she couldn't expect too much from him, and in return, he didn't have to expect anything at all from her.

Having met Pervis through the friend of a friend, like two parasites in need of a host, they instantly found themselves in each other's arms. Lana being the one with the job and the trailer, she eventually invited Pervis to move in with her and Angie. And now she didn't have the backbone to make him leave.

Her anger pickling inside of her as she was forced to listen to the indignity of the two fucking in the other room, Lana swore on her Grandmother's grave she would rip each of their beating hearts from their chests if it continued.

Lana knew the affair, if that's what you could call it, had been going on for at least a couple of weeks. From the stained clothing she found strewn across the floor on occasion to the discernable tension she felt between Pervis and Angie when the three were in the same room, it didn't take Lana long to figure out what has going on. For a while at least, Angie and Pervis only fooled around while Lana was at work or away from the trailer. Now the two were actually banging each other while they thought she was asleep in the bedroom.

For whatever reason, Lana couldn't bring herself to be as angry at Angie. She had long given up any hope for the girl and with no expectations, come no disappointments. It was clear now Angie was just as much Lana's rival as her child. Lana had been Angie's age once and in a lot of ways had been put in many similar situations and she knew how a girl with little self esteem or ambition could easily fall for an older man offering a little money, some drugs or affection.

Being angry at Pervis, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.

Clean and sober for the first time since she was 13, Lana had made a serious commitment to making the second half of her life better than the first. And part of that commitment was trying to help others have a better life as well. That attempt at trying to deliver saving grace with a person like Pervis Tucker would prove to be a waste of time, energy and effort. Just as quickly as she had put a roof over his head and food in his belly, he had stopped any sexual contact with her and was now eagerly plowing her Daughter every chance he got.

Listening with horrid and sick helplessness as the sounds of Pervis and Angie's bodies colliding filtered back to the bedroom, Lana steeled herself, trying to maintain the same level of anger in her soul when Pervis finally finished what he was doing in the living room and came to bed.

"I'm gonna kick the shit out of him and then I'm gonna cut his dick off," Lana swore, grinding her teeth roughly when she heard Pervis groan out his release from up the hall.

"Quiet...Mom will hear us," Lana was sure she could hear her Daughter gasp as Pervis shot his cum deep inside her 19 year old cunt.

"Too late for that you little ungrateful Bitch," Lana bristled to herself before rolling over to her side, with her back facing the door, to pretend she was asleep before her drunken and spent boyfriend staggered towards the bedroom.

"You've got to deal with this...somehow Lana...you've got to deal with this," she told herself as Pervis' heavy and disjointed footsteps approached.

* * * * *

Her back turned towards the half closed bedroom door, Lana was thankfully sparred the undignified sight of Pervis walking into the room, clad only in a pair of stained boxers, his half limp, greasy and used cock dangling obscenely from the slit in front.

"The second he lays down...I'm gonna choke the Sonofabitch to death," Lana told herself even though she could feel her resolve trickling away.

And unfortunately, her resolve wasn't the only thing slipping away.

One of the dreadful things Lana had discovered over the years about how her psyche and physiology were intertwined was the way she would become strangely aroused whenever she became angry. While it was masochistic, it was also undeniable. Even though her blood continued to boil over Pervis and Angie's blatant disregard of decency, Lana squirmed anxiously on the bed, unable to ignore the fact that her vagina had gradually turned to a pool of molten froth as she listened to things unfold minutes earlier.

"It's been a month since the Asshole has even touched me...That must have been about the time he started fucking her," Lana lamented, the whole time squeezing her thighs together tightly to quell the shameful glow itching inside of her.

Recoiling her body when she felt Pervis' weight collapse on the bed, Lana's stomach rolled with pitiful self-loathing when she felt her shoulders begin to turn to face her unwitting boyfriend.

"God...you can even smell the whisky on his breath," Lana groaned, cataloging the other unmistakable scent wafting off his body as well, the aroma of freshly completed sex.

"You could kill him right now and be done with it...you'd spend the rest of your life in jail but at least you'd go with a clear conscience," Lana's primal inner voice urged.

In the end however, Lana's desire betrayed her, allowing her to succumb to the same temptation, weakness and frailty she had fought so hard to overcome.

Perching herself up on her left arm as she stared down blankly at Pervis' sprawled frame, Lana used her right hand to hastily rip off her panties before snuggling her liquefied crotch all the way up against his thigh.

"I'm not going to let my fuckin' Daughter have her way...she ain't shit...I'm gonna show him what a real woman is like in bed," Lana defiantly grumbled before lifting her right leg into the air in an attempt to straddle her boyfriend's dozing carcass.

Positioning her heavy thighs in an inverted V above Pervis' waist, Lana looked down through the darkness and watched the way his sleeping face twitched to life when he felt her substantial weight on top of him.

"What...what the Hell are you doing?" he groaned, making several failed attempts at tossing her aside.

"I'm gonna show you what a real fuck is like," Lana immediately spat as she fumbled for the damp and rubbery appendage hiding inside the opening of Pervis' boxers.

Desperately trying to massage the slippery tube of flesh to hardness as she grinded on top of Pervis' crotch, Lana did her best to ignore the fact that it was Angie's vaginal secretions coating its limpness.

"Get hard you Fucking Asshole," Lana growled, anger now welling in her eyes as she rocked up and down on the mattress.

Feverishly working her searing crotch like a hammer against Pervis' loins, the noisy squeaking of the bedsprings finally ceased when Lana's exhausted body gave out. In the silence of the bedroom, Lana could hear her boyfriend snoring below.

Dropping her chin against her chest, in essence bowing in defeat to everything big and small that was crashing down on her, Lana collapsed to her left, into a spent heap on her side of the mattress before turning her back towards Pervis once again and burying her face into a pillow.

"Somehow this has got to stop...I've got to do something," she cried over and over, in her own tortured mind once again vacillating between inaction, suicide and murder.

* * * * *

Several days after the indignity suffered in her own bed, Lana continued to walk around like a zombie, liquored up and numb to everything around her.

She had confronted Pervis the next day about what was happening between him and Angie and had surprised herself somewhat in her ability to lay down the law and kick him out of her trailer. It wasn't easy however, she still had the black eye and bruises on her arms to prove it, but after the neighbors called the police and they aided in Pervis' removal, Lana had the solitude she thought she was craving. The fact that Angie hadn't came home either the first two nights after she kicked Pervis out further reinforced the decision she had made.

It didn't take long though for Lana to start feeling guilty about the whole thing and the loneliness and self pity quickly engulfed her. On the wagon for nearly a year, it didn't take long for her to find the bottle of Tequila she had hidden in the cabinet for a time such as this.

For the next two days, Lana lost herself in a drunken haze, holding on to the only life preserver she could find as her personal life swirled around the drain.

There had been a message on the answering machine each of the two days of her binge from her job, inquiring as to why she hadn't made it to work and on the third day, a threat of dismissal. While menial jobs such as that were a dime a dozen, Lana had built up nearly six months worth of goodwill and she knew in her present condition she wouldn't knock anyone's socks off at a job interview, so she decided to drag herself off the floor (literally), and go collect her paycheck.

* * * * *

Arriving at the Motel 6 along Interstate 35 a little before 8 the next morning, wearing makeup for the first time since she could remember to cleverly conceal her lack of sleep as well as the gradually fading facial bruises left by Pervis, Lana clocked in and waited for the previous night's guests to slowly filter away so she could clean the rooms for that night's arrivals.

It certainly wasn't a glamorous job and it wasn't going to make Lana rich, but it did provide enough income to make her trailer payment and sustain her two pack a day cigarette habit. The job itself was a boring a monotonous routine. Punch in, gossip some with the other women working there, at least the ones that spoke English, clean some, steal a cigarette break or two, clean some more and punch out.

Most of the motel's guests were travelers passing through Duluth on business or vacationers heading to Lake Superior for some Summer fun. There was naturally the occasional local shacked up in a room with someone they shouldn't be and Lana had seen enough over her brief stint there to make a living at blackmail if she really had to.

Every once in a while she had made the mistake of entering a room before the guest had checked out, and even though there had been an awkward moment or two, Lana had never stumbled upon anyone 'naked or engaged in a compromising position.

That changed 20 minutes into her shift that morning.

Cleaning nearly 30 rooms a day, 5 days a week for nearly a half a year, the routine had become quite mundane for Lana. Push the cleaning cart up to the room, swipe the master key through the lock, walk in, survey the damage left from the night before, look for any valuables left behind and clean it up for the next night's guests.

Without thinking twice, Lana unlocked the door to room 146 and began to push her cart inside. Instantly, a glass shattering shriek escaped from Lana's lips when she saw a man's naked body on the bed.

"OH MY GOD...HE"S... DEAD," she stammered through the hand covering her mouth.

* * * * *

The man most certainly was not dead, just sleeping soundly.

Having left Green Bay a day earlier on a business trip to Winnepeg, 38 year old Glenn Orbaugh had pulled off the highway at 2 that morning to get a little shut eye, knowing he still had a full day's drive into Canada ahead of him.

Dead to the world when the cleaning lady stumbled into his room, Glenn would have probably slept right through it if Lana hadn't shrieked and then rocked up against her cleaning cart when she saw him there.

Opening his eyes slowly, briefly having to remind himself just where he was, Glenn could see Lana's fuzzy outline standing in the doorway as he lifted his heavy head from the pillow. A moment later he realized he was completely naked on top of the strewn sheets.

* * * * *

Like a person that dreams that they've woke up, showered and gotten dressed after hearing their alarm clock go off, only to find out they're still warmly tucked under the covers, Lana stood there, frozen like a statue, thinking she had politely pulled her cleaning cart out of the room and closed the door behind her. She didn't snap back to reality until the naked gentleman on the bed locked eyes with her.

The rest of her body paralyzed, Lana's eyes fluttered crazily back and forth as the man's aroused cock twitched and bobbed when he shifted his weight.

"I've got to get out of here...I've got to..." Lana inner voice babbled.

Not that the sight of a naked man intimidated her. With the litany of experiences she had been party to over the past four decades, she had, in all likelihood, seen more naked men than many urologists. But even she had to admit it was slightly unsettling to just stumble upon one.

Squeezing her fists tight as she fought to turn her eyes away from the bed, Lana finally bowed her head and began to retreat.

The words, "I'm... so...sor..." trickled from Lana's lips before the drowsy man on the bed interrupted.

"No...don't go..." Glenn muttered, still sweeping the sleepiness from his eyes.

For a few moments Glen too thought he was dreaming. A frequent traveler, he spent upwards of 50 nights a year on the road, and like any red blooded male, he had always fantasized about having a meaningless and quick tryst with one of the maids.

Still with only a vague image of Lana, Glen rubbed his eyes again until her features began to come into view. She was heavyset and her figure certainly wasn't enhanced by the violet colored, polyester uniform she was wearing.

While most of the hotel help Glen encountered in his travels had been Hispanic or Filipino, he could see that Lana was white, and from her complexion, most certainly a local.

Glen's steadily widening eyes repeatedly scanned the maid's heaving bosom as she continued to stand just inside the doorway, staring blankly at the painfully throbbing girth jutting up from his groin.

"You're married Glen," he halfheartedly reminded himself. "You haven't cheated on your wife...well... for at least the last three years. Just toss the covers back over you and she'll leave."

Like a hypnotist with his subject put under however, Glen trembled with awakened arousal at the way Lana's brown eyes seemed to flutter each time he lazily traced his hand around the shaft of his cock.

"My Wife hasn't given a damn about my morning wood in years," he groused, noting the glazed look of need and attention in the maid's face.

"Get in here and close the door," Glen mumbled calmly.

Lana didn't budge.

Feeling the heat of the older woman's gaze continue to weigh on his groin, Glen felt a virile rush shoot through his body. Darting up from the bed, with the same cat quickness of his forgotten youth, Glen slipped past Lana and grabbed the edge of the door.

"...I said...close the door," he once again demanded, this time whispering it into the maid's ear before gently easing the door shut.

"But my cart...someone will see my cart out there," Lana protested.

"Don't worry about it...this wont take long," Glen quickly interrupted before taking his first unfettered look at the woman beside him.

Nothing like his dainty, prim and all too proper wife, Lana was a big boned and thick woman for her five foot six inch frame. While she had rounded, doe-like features, the lines on her face and the way she slumped slightly when she stood, Glen could tell she had lived a hard life.

Grabbing her by the right arm with his left hand, Glen could see the maid's eyes focus on his wedding band.

"You're married," she blankly muttered with a tone of stoic disinterest.

"Yep...Yes I am," Glen admitted, noting the lack of a ring on Lana's clenched fingers even though he could clearly tell she was involved with someone from the bruised eye she was trying to conceal beneath a layer of makeup.

Without probing the morality of the situation any further, Glen eased away from the door and pulled Lana towards the bed.

Wanting to get on with it before the fragile moment was lost, Glen slipped backwards and sat on the edge of the crumpled sheets before widening his feet on the floor to bracket the befuddled woman between his legs.

Looking up, he could read the name embroidered on Lana's uniform, but wanting to keep things as impersonal as possible, he simply looked deep into her eyes and told her to open her hand.

Inhaling a hearty dose of Lana's cheap perfume each time he took a deep breath, Glen hungrily rolled his tongue around his mouth as he stared directly at the swells of the woman's ample bosom. Pulling Lana to him by her wrist when he sensed her fingers beginning to extend, Glen closed his grip around hers until they were pumping his turgid manhood in unison.

" AHHH...Good," Glen groaned appreciatively when he felt Lara's palm gently constrict around his cock.

"Damn...you know you wont be able to hold out for long once she gets going...better get this on the fast track quick," Glen internally knew.

Before he could nudge Lana down to the floor however, the older woman, well versed in the subtle etiquette of illicit and anonymous sex, slowly lowered to her knees and took her place between Glen's feet.

"OH...SHIT...YES!" Glen belched, his voice trembling as he watched the maid's chubby, blush caked cheeks press down on his pulsing crotch.