The Yellow Wallpaper

What I remember: The sweet comforting aroma of pipe tobacco. The Warm glow from the sun struggling to get inside past the tightly closed heavy wool drapes. The rhythmic knocking of the wood bed against the wall. The old-fashioned featherbed atop the mattress that you just sink into like a cocoon. It was warm in the room, almost humid in the early summer. They liked to keep the air conditioner turned down low during our "special" sessions.

But the thing I remember most is the yellow wall paper. The flocked, mustard yellow wallpaper with camel-colored paisley pattern. Little flecks of paprika-colored dots. It looked like it'd be soft to touch. You know that old-fashioned wallpaper with the raised pattern. I always wanted to touch it. It was ugly. Hideously ugly. But it was beautiful and after a while I needed it. I needed the yellow wallpaper. It's softness and comforting yellow hue and paprika dots. It was like I could go into a trance, staring at the velvety yellow wallpaper, the image bouncing rhythmically up and down ... up and down ... up and down ... and the heavy wooden headboard knocking against the wall in time to our movements. Yellow wallpaper floating up and down ... knock knock knock ... warm filtered sunlight glow ... velvety soft yellow wallpaper floating up and down ... pipe smell ... knock knock knock knock ... up and down ... up and down ... knock knock knock ,,, and then the sweet glorious release ... the blinding mind-numbing release ... face frozen in a rictus of excruciating pleasure ... images of mustard yellow walls and filtered light floating on pipe smoke in time to the knocking of my pounding heart.

I came like that every time. Some people will be surprised to know that I came like that every time. Every. Single. Time. Not just during our "special" sessions. But every time with every one. Some prostitutes will tell you they have orgasms, but in reality it's rare. Just a transaction and a job to do. It was a job to me too, but that's not why I fell into prostitution.

I must have been born to be a whore. It was in me all along, waiting for the right moment to come oozing out of me. I'll give you my sob story. I'd moved into the little one bedroom apartment on [] street to downsize. I'd had some "reversals" that I needed to work through to get back on my feet. One of those four-unit brick apartment buildings on a street with a dozen other little four-unit apartment buildings. It was clean and dry. We'd come in the back door when they moved me in, so I didn't meet my neighbors that first day. It wasn't until a few days later when I came home early in the day. I was looking forward to some ice cream, a soft throw, reclining on the couch and watching turner classic movies. As I walked in the building, I could smell the acrid odor of cigar smoke coming from the open apartment next door. I peered in and saw four older gentlemen lounging in the living room, QVC playing quietly on the television in the background. They all stopped, looking me up and down, appraising me with their eyes. One of them spoke up and said jovially, "You must be 1B. 1A here. Nice to meet you." He was a portly man with a small paunch of a stomach, but thin legs and a round, friendly face. I just nodded and turned to go into my apartment. I could hear their laughter as I closed the door. Were they laughing at me?

It didn't take long for things to go from bad to worse. Money just started to dry up and I was really afraid I wasn't going to be able to pay my rent. Eventually the eviction notice was plastered on my door for all to see. The four horsemen saw it before I did. When I came home one day, Mr. Portly cornered me in the hallway. "Everything alright? I see you've got an eviction notice on your door." I looked at it dejectedly. Nothing to say. "What are you going to do about it, honey?"

"I haven't figured that out yet," I said with a shrug.

"Wish I could do something for you, honey ..." his voice comforting and sweet. "Why don't you come on in and rest a spell?"

It was nice and warm and quiet and comforting in the little apartment. I could smell the left over cigar smoke. He moved around the room, clearing a spot on the couch, emptying ashtrays and straightening up. "Just sit a spell." It was one pf those old-fashioned sofas that you just sink into like a cloud and then have trouble getting out of. QVC was on quietly in the background, "Colleen" was selling diamonique jewelry. "I'll get you something cool to drink."

I was out like a light before he came back with the drink. I hadn't been sleeping much lately, worrying about the rent. But I felt safe and protected in this little apartment on the soft couch. I came to and found him sitting in a chair across from me. "Guess you were tired. Told ya you needed to rest." Then he turned back to his television. The drink he'd brought me was lemonade. The glass was sitting on the end table next to me, sweating onto a white lace doily. "Stay as long as you like," he said, without turning around. So I did. I stayed until about midnight, sitting on the couch, watching QVC. He must have eaten earlier in the evening.

Finally I pulled myself out of my nest in the soft sofa and took myself home. "Come back anytime!" I went out the next day to see what I could raise by selling some electronics at the pawn shop and maybe get a title loan on my car. I came back dejected and disappointed. But the eviction notice was gone. At first I thought someone had just pulled it down. But when I opened the door, there was an envelope on the floor. I opened it and found a receipt for payment of rent for the next 90 days. Someone had paid my rent for me. Not just the arrears, but the next three months too.

The door was still open and I heard Mr. Portly sidle up to me. "Everything all right?"

"Yes, I ..."

"Yes. It's taken care of."

"But I don't know when I can ..."

"Don't you worry about it, honey. Why don't you stop by and sit a while? Boys are over, but they won't hurt none."

"No thanks, I'm really tired and stressed and I think I'll just go inside and crash."

His face turned to an ugly scowl right in front of me. He grabbed me by my upper arm. "Now look here, girl. What you think is going on here? You think I paid that for a 'thank you' and a smile? Now you gon' get over here and sit a while with me and the boys! Don't make me get rough!" He said menacingly as he dragged me across the hall. He marched me into the apartment, past "the boys" and into a dark bedroom. I could barely see him, but I could see his eyes flashing in the dark.

"Now get yourself ready and one of the boys will be in in a few minutes."

I didn't need to be told what was expected of me. Looking back on it, I suppose I could have climbed out the window (it was only a few feet off the ground) or yelled. There was an old rotary dial phone on the table next to the bed. I could have called the police. I could have yelled and attracted the attention of the neighbors upstairs or people on the street.

But it was in me and I just let it come out. I peeled my clothes off and laid them on the big club chair in the corner of the room as my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. Then I climbed into the bed and pulled the sheets and covers up over me. It was warm and soft and I almost felt safe there.

The door opened and in walked one of the boys. I don't know which one he was, but from the living room I heard "Be easy, now!" from Mr. Portly. I kept the covers over my head, afraid to confront the man. I could hear his zipper unzipping, his belt clanging then quiet as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on my back and just left it there. We sat like that for a while.

Eventually, he got off the bed. At first I thought he was going away. I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. Then I felt the covers lift off my feet as he sidled up to me under the covers. Thankfully, he didn't crawl up to my face. Instead, I felt him part my legs and place them on his shoulders.

His tongue was warm and wet and soft and velvety as he ran it tentatively up and down my slit. Getting it wet with his saliva and my own juices now flowing. He opened me up slowly with his tongue, eventually reaching my clit and sending a thrill up my spine. My heartbeat quickened. I wanted this. I really wanted this. It just felt right. And I lay there and let it happen. Eventually, I had to pull my head from under the cover to get some fresh air. My head turned to the side, my hands clutching the covers to my chest, and stared at the wallpaper. It was different than the living room. This wallpaper was a velvety yellow pattern with paprika dots and camel colored paisley. It was ugly and old. I just concentrated on the wallpaper and tried go somewhere else as his tongue moved up and down and over the button and up and down and over the button and up and down and over the button.

"Unnnnngggghhhhhh!" I shrieked as as my orgasm erupted.. Pricks of light exploded in my eyes. My face turning into a rictus of sweet pleasure as waves of pleasure washed over me, my heart beating loudly in my ears. I kind of passed out a little bit as I came down off my orgasm.

I don't know when the first man left and the next one came in. I just heard the rattling of a belt and the sound of a zipper being pulled down. I kept my head turned in the other direction, but I didn't pull the covers back over my head.

He pulled the covers part way off of me as he rolled into the bed. He pulled himself up over me, positioning himself between my legs, his large member poised at my entry. Still slick from my orgasm, his thick gristle easily slipped into me. We both sighed a little as it went in. It just felt right. It was soft and hard and snug in my little snatch. His body weight fell on me and pushed me further into the soft cocoon of a bed.

"Oooh, shit!" he exclaimed as he came to rest inside of me. "mmm, yes ..."

He picked up the pace, as it started getting good to him. "Huh ... huh ... huh ... unghhh ... unhh ..." he grunted in time to his thrusts. His spongy mushroom head battering my cervix, the low hanging balls smacking against my bottom. The base of his meaty phallus rubbed against the button each time he push in and out.

"Not gonna last to long ... huh ... huh... huh...", his grunts getting more and more urgent. I raised my legs further up on his back and pistoned my hips up to meet him as he slammed into me.

"Just a little bit more, please ... I'm almost there." I pleaded with him. I turned my head and concentrated on the wallpaper, trying to go to my special place. The wooden headboard thudding against the plaster walls dully in time to our frantic movements.

"Unnh ... unnhhh ... unhhh ... here it comes!!!"

"Get it ... get it ... GET ITTTTTTT!!!!!" I shrilled as I fell over the edge into my orgasm.

"Unnnnggggghhhhhhhhh", he uttered a deep guttural growl as he emptied his seed into me.

I let the kaleidoscope of yellow and paprika and camel roll over my eyes, heightening the last bits of pleasure. The pipe smoke and the warm light and the soft bed lulling me slowly into darkness.

The next one didn't come in for a long while. I almost thought it was over. Then the door opened, a shaft of light entering in from the living room as another one tiptoed into the room. It was Mr. Portly. He had on a smoking jacket and slacks. He had a carpet of fur on his chest and belly and the top of his back. His belly protruded in front of him, round and taut. As he pulled off his pants and underwear, his short, meaty pole, swayed horizontally, pointing lewdly at me. Our eyes met and I could tell he knew me. He knew there was something inside of me that had been waiting to get out.

He fell into the bed on his back. "On top, honey." I turned onto my side, as if in a trance, and swung my leg across his body. He placed his meaty paws on my cheeks, squeezing them a little as he guided me into place.

His hard sqat intruder pushed into me forcefully as he pushed his hips upward. "Oh, honey ... so tight ..." he said with a grimace of pleasure.

I rocked my hips back and forward, getting into a rhythm. "Nice ... nice ... nice ..." he whispered conspiratorially. "Nice ... that's it, honey ... nice ... good girl ..."

The "good girl" clicked something into place in my head. He knew me. Knew what I was. I quickened the pace as if in a trance. I needed this. I needed this badly. Once more I took myself away into the kaleidoscope of camel and velvety yellow and paprika and filtered light. My heart pounding the blood loudly in my ears as the bed thudded dully against the solid plaster walls.

"Unnhh ... unh ... unhhh ... unnnhhh ..." I cried as my his meaty gristle pistoned in and out of me methodically, grinding my tingle button against his hairy groin.

"Good girl ... good girl ... good girl," he chanted.

"Get it ... get it ... get iiiittttttt!" I exclaimed, struggling for both of us to reach that ecstasy I needed so badly.

"I'm coooooommmmmminnnnnngggggggg honey ...." he grunted as his thick meaty cannon erupted inside of me, sending his seed deep inside of me and pushing me over the edge.

"Uuuuuuunnnnnnnggggggggggggggggg!" I wailed until I was almost out of breath. The bright pricks of light bursted in my eyes as the pleasure rocked me almost violently. My blood thudded against my eardrums, my heart pounding in my chest as my orgasm hit me. Throwing me forward as I collapsed on top of him. We lay like that belly to belly for a long time. I didn't want to let him pull out or move. I needed to feel his heart beat in time to mind, the warmth of his belly against mine.

After what seemed like hours, he fell out of me finally. I was barely conscious as he laid me on my back on the other side of the bed.

* * * * *

"Spread your legs for Daddy ..." the next one said as I awoke to his ham fists spreading my legs apart. "Good girl. I know you're tired. Just relax and let me do all the work." he said as he climbed between my thighs and positioned his meaty skewer at the entrance.

I did as he commanded and lay there as he pushed his big intruder deeper and deeper inside of me. Finally he bottomed out and began to retract himself from me. Only to push it back in slowly. He went slowly, in and out, in and out, building up a nice pace. I was surprised to feel that tickle of excitement again. Having come three times in as many hours, I didn't think I could get aroused again.

I rolled my hips up to meet his thrusts. We moved back and forth against each other, struggling to get to the promised land. The bed thudded against the plaster walls in time to our urgent movements. We struggled urgently against one another.

"Unh ... unh ... unh ..." I cried in time to his thrusts.

"Huh ... huh .. hunnhhhh ..." he grunted as he pistoned his pole into me. His face a grimace of pleasure.

"Unh [thud-thud] ... unhh [thud-thud]... unhhhhh [thud-thud-thud]" I cried as the bed pounded dully against the wall.

"Hunhh ... huh ... huhhhh..." he croaked with each thrust. Then finally "hunnh ... oh shiiitttt!" as he slapped the side of my butt hard, taking me over the edge.

"Get it, Daddy ... get it, Daddy ... gettttttt iiiittttttt Daddy!!!!!" I cried as the pleasure washed over me in waves. Then "Daddy, daddy, dadddyyyyyy" I sobbed as I fell into an orgasmic stupor, his seed pouring into my fertile chamber.

* * * * *

It only took me a few months of our weekly "special" sessions with the boys to pay off my debt. But I continued on for months more after that. Eventually I branched out to other men. Mr. Portly would occasionally knock on my door in the middle of the day, "Got a visitor comin' by," he'd say and then return to his apartment. I would pull myself off the couch or away from whatever I was doing and unlock the door. About an hour later, the "company" would let himself in and we'd have a special session. He'd leave $100 on the nightstand when he was done.