The Motel

byHelenHall©

Sit here on the deck – not that chair though, it's broke – and you'll catch the breeze. That's the lights of the town way off over there and, when we got a moon, you can see clear to the mountains. Soon as I saw the place I knew it'd be fine for a motel business. Place needed a lot of fixing though. Not done yet.

I'll get us a refill and some crackers, then Don – it is Don ain't it? My handle is Jake - I'll tell you the rest of it.

Like I was saying, there's never time for kisses, once they are undressed. They both know why they're in a motel room, no need for them to dance around it. I never know what to expect when they get going and he lays her down in the bed and gets excited telling her how beautiful she is. I'm excited thinking of his cock rubbing against her as he holds her and begins to mouth her neck and her breasts.

Slowly, he starts on one breast and starts with one arm around her, the other traveling down to her pussy. He sucks on a tit and his fingers have found the place to guess from the way she responds. He's in control and he knows it, and he stops. That lusting look on his face lets me know what comes next. I'm sure cramped in that tight space but I get to watching her being fucked stupid.

Anyways, let's open a fresh bottle – Bourbon ain't it, Don? Go on your check, OK? You being on expenses – and then I'll tell the best part.

By squeezing myself to the other viewpoint I can see his ass getting between her legs and I know this is the moment his hard cock is going in. Her eyes are wide staring or closed hard - and this is when I open the shutters on the grille so I can listen better. Not so interested in the darling-love-stuff they talk, I like to hear the grunts and the groans, the gasps and then the shrieks as she gets done. I've even eased off the screws on the bed, needing to hear the creak-creak of wood and metal.

It ain't easy but I like to hold off for as long as possible and, if I can, shoot when he does. I keep plastic wrappers close by or sometimes I wear a rubber.

Yep, that's right, Don. When I got to own the motel, I had the idea to make use of the space given to storing clothes and luggage, the corner next the toilet and shower. I boxed it in, put in see-through reflecting mirrors – not cheap as I didn't dare buy them local - and fixed it so I can get in easy by ladder from the roof space. I got certificates for carpentry so it's a good job.

Yes, Don, we sure do get regulars. There's afternoons when this big guy comes, signs in as Jack or Tom Brown, and I get Jim, who does the desk, to alert me at my room out back. I know to leave it for about ten minutes before I get myself in the viewing seat because there's always a bottle of wine to be drunk first. Never buy it from me though.

Seems like it's different women every time. Blondes, well stacked, are his choosing and this big guy likes to take them standing up the first time. Lifts them up and right on to his cock and fucks them against the wall or the door. Then there's more wine and next comes cock sucking and soon into bed under the quilt. I can't see much then but I hear a lot and often the quilt slides to the floor so I can watch him ramming away. This guy's a real cruel bastard but quite a performer, not that most of his fucks seem to appreciate that. They want the money either before or straight after.

We get most of our rents at night but that is not much use on account of them rarely leaving the lights on. The best I can hope for is to listen in and use my imagination. Besides the night screws are often a real drag. She lies there like a sack of corndogs, just being humped.

Summer though, we do a load of daytime bookings as word has got around this is a discreet motel – a 'bouncing bed' as it is known in this State. We've only eight cabins and, as we are near two miles from the highway, you can figure we have to be in for this kind of business if we are to pay our taxes. I say 'we' as Jim shares the place with me. He was my best friend all the years in the orphanage. After my father put in a very late appearance in my life – he got cancer but we had near three good years before he died and I counted on the guilt money he left me in his will - I had Jim join me so we could run the gas station and build up the motel together. It was a kinda dream come true as all those years growing up we promised each other faithful a share of any good fortune that come our way.

Pour yourself another and I'll tell you about the honeymoon couple. Just last month.

They couldn't have been more than eighteen either of them. They pulled in to fill up with gas and get rid of the ribbons and the balloons off their truck, then must have decided they wouldn't make it to a fancy hotel. He gets all nervous asking Jim if they can rent a room and is there a liquor store near they can get champagne? We fixed them up with a bottle I had over from Thanksgiving - wasn't chilled but we had an ice bucket to fill right up.

She was wearing white net stockings I remember which looked real nice as she unclipped the suspenders. He had on crazy boxer shorts with spots. Neither of them said much, just stared at each other for a long moment holding the glasses. She put down her glass and very slowly she leant back against the bed and parted her legs showing the most beautiful pink pussy I've ever seen.

His cock went in easy, surprising easy. She gave a long gasp. Then he went mad pistoning. "Jesus and Mary," she was yelling, then she gave a big shriek and he came so hard he upset the lamp when the bed banged against it. She was gasping, "It's so hot, oh that's so lovely".

Like I said, just a couple of kids - virgins both I guessed - and already she was talking babies and playing with his limp cock. It was really moving, only time I had to wipe my eyes as well as my cock.

The sheriff knows what goes on - what sheriff doesn't – but sure he's no threat. He brings his lady here from time to time. But we don't charge. I don't watch either. I do have some – what's that word? - scruples.

You're paying for the bottle, so yes, thanks I will take another. More stories? Let me think.

We had a booking from two women – mid forties but lookers, and expensive lookers, driving a cream Caddie, open top. Real leather shoes and purses, paid in new dollar bills and didn't ask for no change. Jim bet me they were lesbians. I won because around eleven they came back well tanked up with the biggest black feller I'd ever seen in real life.

That was a night, I can tell you. And they left the light on. I had a real sore cock for days after. He had a black cock bigger than any dildo I seen in any of the catalogues, thick as a flagpole. Lucky they were our only booking that night because the noise was really something even without the grille open. I was so excited I was talking some too. She was saying "I think he's going to come," and the other was yelling "Oh yes, come now, give it to me you oversexed bastard." And he was pounding away and I heard myself saying out loud "For God's sake come then." Didn't hear me though. Good thing.

He poured it in just as I poured mine into a pool on the floor. I was so dizzy, sweating terrible, that I had to clean the glass before I could see. There was the other one fixing herself on the bed and opening her legs wide and her friend was fingering and fondling his big cock saying "He's coming big for you Francie, so you be ready."

Jeeze, that was some night. I knew I just had to come again and, boy, did it hurt. But good hurt, know what I mean?

One time Jim and I hired a whore and we took turns but it weren't as good as jacking off watching other folk fucking. I don't think any two couples do it the same. Which is why, after six years, it's still so pleasuring. OK, so we could confine ourselves to the cunt videos and DVDs but like it's watching a ball game on TV – only by being there do you get the nerve-pulling sensations. Jim likes to watch the ass fuckers but we don't get many of them, only the fags. Me, I like to watch a woman work herself right up then throw herself onto a big cock and talk loud how it feels as she ups and downs.

I don't see I need to feel bad about it. Jim and I are owed some pleasure - sex pleasure - for I don't see any woman wanting to mix with us, or marry or anything. Jim reckons we're damaged goods - half priced people - so what they say about accepted social rules just don't apply to us. I say we were born to be watchers. We watched a world that had families, mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters, and fun and visits, and taken places, a world we were never allowed to join. We just watched, grew up watching; reckon we will die still watching.

It is not as if we are taking pictures or movies or anything. We just like seeing and then afterwards, late on hot nights, talking here on the deck - just Jim and I - about what we seen, drinking a few beers, having a laugh and waving our cocks at the stars.

You having another one – night cap? I'll write on the sheet like you had supper here? Your boss won't know we don't do no food but coffee and complimentary breakfast.

Been nice talking to you Don, a traveling man that understands and appreciates a bit of hot cock talk. Not done that in a long while. And bet you're like me - sleep well after a good jerk-off.

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