tagErotic HorrorComing to Miami

Coming to Miami


Chapter One:

The long drive from up north had made the man a little tired. He pulled the car in front of a hotel called "The Lazy Palm" and turned the car off. The cool air that had been blowing on his face ceased, and he was forced to roll down the window. The Miami temperature had him sweating in his button up. He undid a button and pulled off his tie. There was no need for that anymore in the land of heat and banging bikini bods. As he sat there, a group of Latinas walked past his car towards the beach the little hotel overlooked. Their thong bikinis showed finely toned asses. The man could not help but stare, and he wanted to do more than stare.

Pulling himself away from the walking eye candy, he opened the door and went back to get his bag. He had called ahead to this hotel to reserve a room. The receptionist on the phone had set him up for a week. With a flick of his wrist, he put the key in the trunk lock and popped it open. With a grunt, he pulled the large suitcase out of the trunk and set it on the concrete. In the trunk there were also a straw hat, a towel, and some tanning lotion.

He put the straw hat on his head, and sighed. The hat definitely helped with the sun that blazed overhead. With a look back in the trunk, he shut it and walked up to the front office of the hotel to get his room key. When he entered, a blonde receptionist looked up from a racy romance novel and smiled a fake "what the fuck can I do for you?" kind of way. He tipped his hat.

"I have a room under the name Mike Townes. I called and rented the next week. I think I might have spoken to you on the phone." The woman showed her impossibly white teeth and flipped through an old fashioned ledger.

"They gave you room 285. Do you have a credit card? We normally like to ensure with credit. Cash, on the other hand, is a guaranteed stay." Mike pulled out his wallet and shuffled through about four one hundred dollar bills. He put them on the counter and smiled at the woman.

"I believe in the power of cash. I was wondering if you might be able to tell me where a good night club is located around here? I really want to experience the Miami night scene." She opened the cash register and slipped the money inside. She bit her lip in obvious thought. Mike thought he might have heard gears turning in her head.

"Well, there is the nightclub right around the block. The cover is pretty cheap, and the people there are normally pretty hot. The place is called Martini. You should check it out." With that, she handed him his room key. An orange fob with a palm tree on it was attached to the ring. He smiled and tipped his hat again.


He slipped the key into the lock and opened the door to room 285. A blast of cool air hit him in the face causing him to instantly start sweating. He hauled his bag inside and closed the door. He flipped on the light and looked at his room. A queen sized bed and a chair faced a flat screen television. Within a few feet of the bed was the bathroom. He poked his head in the bathroom, noting the size.

It was quite spacious. Finally, he was off of the road. With a grunt, Mike threw the suitcase onto the bed and opened it. Inside were a few changings of clothes and some toiletries. Below that were a large painter's tarp and some tape. Next to that were zip ties, more duct tape, and some other odds and ends.

He arranged the clothes out on the bed and picked a nice Tommy Bahamas shirt for this evening. For background noise, he turned on the television. It was on an adult channel where a woman was getting plowed by some muscled up stud. Mike stopped and watched it for a minute, and then turned back to his preparation. He took the painter's tarps out of the bag and went to the restroom. Once inside, he began spreading it to cover the inside of the tub. Then, he taped it down wit the roll of tape. He went about doing the same to the rest of the bathroom.

Once all of the walls and other surfaces were covered by painter's tarp, he smiled at the work he had done. Now, he wouldn't have to pay if something got dirty. Back in the bedroom, he unzipped the inside pouch of the suitcase and pulled out a M1911 pistol. Carefully, he walked to the bathroom and put it on the counter. His eyes stared at the beautiful finish.

"Hello, darling. I hate that you had to ride in the dark all the way here." With that, he went back into the bedroom, as the sun began to sink below the horizon.


The music inside the Martini vibrated the fillings in Mike's head, but he wasn't really paying attention to that. He was sitting at the bar, trying to act cool. Women were gyrating on the dance floor, making it hard not to watch. Mike was a pretty tall guy, and his blonde hair and green eyes didn't scare away the ladies. He was by no means weak, and his biceps showed.

A few women had stared his way as he sipped a coke minus the rum. Alcohol wasn't really his thing, but the perception of intoxication made the ladies feel better. As he sat and sipped on his drink, his eyes caught a fit long legged Latina dancing to some house mix. He kept eye contact, and then waved. She waved back, obviously interested. She sauntered over to him after the track changed, and introduced herself.

"My name is Miranda. What are you drinking?" Mike smiled and took her hand. He looked down at his drink.

"My name is Mike. I'm not from around here, but I can't help but notice all of the beautiful women around here. Present company, included." He cracked a smile, and she smiled slyly back at him. He could smell alcohol on her breath.

"Bartender, whatever my lady friend here wants, put it on my tab." She took the seat next to him. He could feel the heat of her skin as they sat at the bar.

"Where are you from, Mike?" Mike leaned in so she could hear him. "I'm from Virginia. I figured it was time for a little vacation. Miami seemed like a good place to visit. Look, I would really like to go someplace quieter so we can talk. I think you are a pretty hot babe." She flashed her very white teeth at him.

"My apartment is just down the road. You want to go there and catch a drink? I promise nothing sketchy. We can even hit the pool there if you want?" She didn't say anything; she just reached over and grabbed his crotch. The look on her face said all he needed to know. She would be a worthy catch. He closed his tab and they both walked out of the club.

He had his arm around her, and she stumbled with him back to the Lazy Palm. When they got to his door, he fumbled with the keys, and dropped them. He bent down to pick them up, and then opened the door. Before he could even get the door open, she began to kiss him. As he closed the door, she was pulling his shirt off.


As they landed on the bed he began unzipping his jeans and pulling them off. She laughed and undid her bra. He grabbed her breasts; the nipples were hard enough to cut glass. She pulled her panties off and threw them on the floor. The small dress skirt she was wearing was in a heap on the floor. In moments she was caressing his throbbing cock.

"Wait, I have a condom on the dresser." She reached over and grabbed it. Quickly, she ripped open the package and slipped it over his cock. He leaned back on the bed and she guided his cock inside of her and began grinding roughly. His hands rested on her hips as she took over and began bumping and grinding. Within moments he was on the edge of ecstasy. She was about to take him over the edge but he stopped her.

"Miranda, I would like to come inside of you. I won't get you pregnant. I have been fixed." He pointed at the scar his scrotum. She laughed.

"Why didn't you tell me? We could have barebacked this whole thing." With that, she pulled the condom off and continued riding him cowgirl. At one point, he grabbed her in his strong arms and held her while he plowed his cock into her from behind. She moaned in pleasure. They rolled off the bed at one point and continued on the floor more ferociously than before. He turned her onto her back and took her from behind.

With one hand, he grabbed her throat and applied a small amount of pressure as he plowed her roughly. She began to scream, but did not tell him to stop. When he thought his cock couldn't take it anymore, he erupted inside of her. After cumming, he pushed away from her and let the sensation wash over him. The vacation in Miami had been the right idea. As they both lay panting, she reached over and tugged on his cock again. Her luscious lips massaged the head, and the tongue took care of the shaft. Within moments, he was cumming again.

"Oh fuck, Miranda. Let me go and draw us a bath. I want to go for round three, but I'm aching. It has been a while since I fucked like that. It was like we were fighting." She looked at him and smiled.

"I can barely walk, papi. Maybe a bath would loosen us up for another round." Mike got up and went into the bathroom. As soon as he was out of sight, he picked up the M1911. He checked to make sure it was loaded.

"Hey Miranda, why don't you come in and wipe me off? I think I might have came on the way to the bathroom." She laughed and got up from the floor. Just as she entered the bathroom, Mike grabbed her by the neck and slammed the door to the bathroom. With the gun aimed at her head he smiled at her.

"I knew you were a good fuck, but holy shit. This is nothing personal, just pleasure." He pulled the trigger sending blood all over the painter's tarp. He dropped her body into the tub and turned to look at himself in the covered up mirror. His cock was harder than ever, and his naked body was covered in blood. A smile crept across his face. Coming both in and to Miami had been just what he needed.

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