tagNovels and NovellasFucked Over Ch. 01

Fucked Over Ch. 01


His name was Dave, at least that's what he told her. They met in a bar, seated next to each other. She spoke up when he asked the bartender if he could turn up the sound on the hockey game playing on the television.

The woman told Dave that she was a Flyers fan. Dave said he just watched the games for the fights.

The woman told him that her name was Jillian. When the left together, the Flyers had just scored. Dave was hoping for the same thing.

In the car, things turned out better than he could have hoped. Jillian couldn't keep her hands to herself, except for when she was fingering her pussy. She told Dave that she was highly sexual and he didn't really have to get a motel room; they could do it right there in the car. Even on it.

Dave's hands sweaty on the wheel, her hands inside of his pants and stroking his cock, he barely managed to pull into a motel parking lot. Jillian pulled her hand out of his fly, only to allow him to go in and register for a room. She laughed at Dave as he walked away, knowing that his fly wasn't zipped up.

By the time he had returned, Jillian was out of her clothes and leaning against the door, her fingers buried in her hairless sex, her tongue writhed in the corner of her mouth as she worked herself.

They drove to the designated room. As he went to unlock the door, he felt her naked body pressing against him from behind and then felt his pants pulled down and then his underwear. They were still outside the room. Her hand was around his cock and they basically fell into the room.

The room was the average motel room, a lamp on top of a dresser, a single bed, a bathroom off to the side. The carpet underneath them was a shag style and she laughed at the coincidence.

Jillian took hold of his cock and slid it into herself. She rode him up and down for about ten strokes before she felt him shooting up inside of her.

And that was the end of that for a while.

There was a heavy silence, broken only when she went into the bathroom and peed, then washed herself.

When she came back, Dave was laying on the bed.

"I'm sorry," he told her.

She sat on the bed and then laid down next to him, her hand burying itself in his chest hair.

"For what?" she asked as she played with the hair. She loved a man with chest hair and considered telling him that, helping him feel better about himself.

"You know," he said, starting to turn away.

"Fuck it, Dave," Jillian said, taking his face in her hands and kissing him romantically, no tongue. "It doesn't matter. We've got all night."

She put her hand in his chest hair again and he hugged her to his side. She rested her head on his chest and then something occurred to her.

"What did you say you did for a living again?" she asked, not removing her head to do so.

"Sales Associate," he told her.

"Glorified clerk then?" she asked with a smile and a kiss to one of his nipples.


There was a pause and then, Jillian said, "I kinda lied about my job. And my name. And pretty much everything else."

It took a moment for him to process what she was saying. One of his hands was edging toward her pussy and the other was just about to touch her tits when they stopped.

And then he was off the bed and searching for his pants. It never occurred to him to turn the light on and he was just lucky that there wasn't much furniture to get hurt on. As it was, he stubbed his toe on the bed frame.

"Wait!" Jillian called out, sitting on the edge of the bed. "What the fuck's the matter?"

He was still searching the floor, trying to ignore the pain in his foot. "Are you underaged or something?" he asked her.

Her voice rose an octave when she asked, "What?" And then she let loose a mighty laugh, one that didn't really fit her body.

"Christ!" she said. "I haven't been underaged in about ten years." She kept laughing, falling back on the bed, holding her convulsing stomach.

Dave gave up his search and stood there, watching her for a moment. He didn't think it was very funny but he didn't know what to do except watch her. Her legs were spread wide open, her hairless sex gleamed in what little light there was in the room.

He walked to the edge of the bed and knelt and stuck his tongue right up her twat. She felt it probing her and, in a very short time, she was wet and bucking against his face. He twirled his tongue and found her clit, flicking it back and forth until she was gripping the sheets and crying out loud.

Christ, I'm going to come! she thought and then said it, using her hands to try to pry Dave off of her but he refused to budge. And then she was coming, her hot liquid pouring out, coating Dave's face and tongue. He kept lapping at her and she kept coming. She didn't think she would ever stop.

Finally, her orgasm subsided and Dave was next to her, kissing her, letting her taste herself. It was a sweet, fruity taste.

A little bit later, she reciprocated and gave him a blow job until he shot his load down her throat, which she promptly swallowed.

As they recovered, they talked some more.

Jillian's real name was Rebecca Daltry. She wasn't a secretary but a grifter, specializing in the short con and pickpocketing and stuff like that.

Dave laughed.

Rebecca hit him with pillow. "What so damn funny?" she asked him.

"Other than the fact that I can't see you doing some of that stuff?" he asked. "I have my own confession."


"I'm not just a sales associate. I'm a thief by night."

She looked at him like he was making fun of her but he kept a straight face, his eyes dead serious.

"When do you find time to sleep?" Rebecca asked him.

"Well, that's what I thought we were going to do tonight." He laughed again. She grabbed the pillow, straddled him and playfully tried to smother him. Eventually, though, she settled for sliding his cock inside of herself and riding him to a mutual orgasm.

Morning came quickly and, after a little playful teasing, they emerged from the room. Since Rebecca had left her clothes in the car, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. When he opened the passenger door, she discarded it, tossing the towel on the ground and sliding onto the front seat. She really didn't give a damn what anyone thought.

As he drove away from the motel, Rebecca asked him if he wanted to finger her again and, while he would have loved to, he told her that he should really concentrated on the road. So, instead, she did herself, moaning and noticing how she'd gotten under his skin.

To be continued...

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