She was Walking on Air

She and her lover have been going at it in room 9 at the no-tell motel on the edge of town.

The no-tell motel really looked like what you would expect a no-tell motel to look like. The parking lot, was around back. It was gravel. It had only one lone light on top a pole, way at the back of the parking lot. There was empty field behind and on one side and on the other side was a Gas n' Go. The paint on the outside and the wallpaper on the inside of the no-tell motel were peeling. The rooms all had a funky smell. The t.v.'s were not flat screen. The drawers in the dresser which the t.v.'s were sitting on, had no bottoms in them. The bed left much to be desired, so perhaps it is not surprising that not a lot of people slept overnight at the no-tell motel. It wasn't the tidiest of places, either.

As they recover from their last coupling, her lover pushes on her, again. It isn't a new topic.

"When are you going to kick the jackass to the curb? Eh? Eh? Well, I'm telling you, it's tonight. Tonight! I hate these crappy motels. As much as I love you and want you, this shit must stop." Her younger lover is playing with her nipple as he speaks.

She sighs. She loves her nipples being fondled; they have a direct connection with her pussy. Her pussy is already pretty activated. Her inner pussy lips are swollen and open like a flower blooming, slippery from their nectars of lust.

She tries to ignored his words. She lets her arousal wash over her. Before she knows what is happening, she's impaled by his amazing cock. She is hot. She's fucking her lover back, her head tossing side to side...

He stops. He holds his position. Rigid, hard, unbending, stiff like a board. She keeps fucking against him...she is so close...uurrrggggggg.

"Tonight we fuck in your bed. If we don't, this is the last time you will enjoy my cock!" her lover whispers in her ear.

She trembles, edging, her orgasm hanging, sssssooooooooo clllloooooosssseeee. She teeters.

"You want my cock?" he whispers, as he nibbles her ear.

She moans.

"Beg," he whispers in her ear. Their eyes lock.

She starts shaking her head from side to side on the pillow, "uuurrrrr. Oooohhhhhh. Ppppppplllllleeeassssssseeeeee." She is moaning. Her breath is rapid, her chest crimson with her passion.

"Please...pleasssse...ppplease...I...I...Oh God!! GIVE ME YOUR COCK!! Fuck me! OOHH GOD!! Please let me have your coooock!!" She is babbling by this point.

He teases her. He pulls out, his cockhead brushing on her pussy lips.

She goes to pleading, which descends into begging.

Now, his cockhead is dipping in and out between her quivering pussy lips.

She is swearing, "SHIT!! fuck me! Goddammit, what are you doing, oh fuck! Please please, oh shit, what do you want, stop TEASING ME YOU bastard, fuckkkkkkk mmmmmmeeeeeeeEEEEEEEE!! I NEED YOUR COCK!!"

That's when he attacks.

He is an excellent lover and knows exactly what he is doing. He totally ravishes her; he owns that pussy.

She is lost to her body, waves building on waves, every nerve alive and alight. Her body hungrily matches him, thrust for thrust, hers eager, desperate...

And then she came.

Oh boy did she cum.

When she recovers her senses, she sees her lover getting dressed. She admires his youthful body. She revels in the memory of the hardness of his sculptured muscles. And then there is his cock. She sighs with contentment.

She stretches out, smiling at her lover.

He stands, slips on his shoes, and grabs his sports jacket. He turns and looks down at her, his cold crystal blue eyes locking with hers.

"Stella, you know I love you. I would walk across burning coals for you. But, I can't, can't take this anymore. I want to fuck you, pretty much anywhere but these crappy fuckin motels!" He sneers as he gestures at the room.

"Tonight, I am coming over at 9. Unlike that jackass you are married to, I have my balls. Don't doubt that. Get rid of him...or he can watch, I really don't care. But keep him the hell away from me. Tonight, we fuck in your bed! If we don't, I'm done, and you will never get my cock again!"

He slammed the door behind him so hard the thin picture window rattled in its aluminum frame.

It takes a moment.

Wait for it.

Here it comes.

It all starts to gel in Stella's sex-addled mind.

No more of her lover's cock?

Stella suddenly had a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Stella screams and jumps out of bed. She dresses hurriedly, grabs her purse and rushes out the door. Stella was, well, a bit panicked. What the hell is she going to tell her husband? She looked at her phone. 2:45. Bob would be home between 5:00 and 5:30. Her husband without her lover? She didn't think she could live with that. Now, her lover and no husband? Ok, that was more doable, thought Stella.

Stella pushed the speed limit on the way home. She was going through a mental checklist. She still hadn't figured out what to tell Bob, but he must be gone before her lover arrives. She knew Bob wouldn't be interested in watching...well, maybe. If he did, he could learn somethings from her lover. She shook her head; she didn't see that happening. She would pack Bob some bags, that would speed things up...she's use the old ugly set. She could have them ready by the door before Bob got home.

She drove just a bit faster.

You could hear Stella's car's tires screech around the corners of the subdivision as she rushed home. She pulled into her driveway, pushed the garage door opener. Then she pushed the garage door opener. Then she pushed pushed pushed the garage door opener. She looked at the garage door. It just stayed closed. She huffed, slammed her car in park, jumped out and rushed to her front door.

She inserted her key. It slid right into the lock as easily as her lover slipped into to her ass. But the key would not turn. She jiggled the key. She pulled it out and stuck it back in. She twists the key again and again. No luck. Her key to her front door didn't work.

As she stood at her front door, not quite all the little cogs were falling into place.

She stepped back from her front door and looked around. That's when she noticed the set of old ugly luggage on the porch. Each case stuffed, bulging, zippers almost all the way zipped up.

Stella looked at her phone, it was almost 3:30. Shit. She headed to the backyard. The back door hide-a-key rock was missing. She searched and searched for it. By 3:45 Stella gives up trying to find the spare key and begins rattling every window and door. Everything is locked up tight. Stella was getting very frustrated. She calls her husband. Straight to voice mail. She calls his office. The automated attendant telephone tree at his work resembled a heaping plate of spaghetti. She gave up after about 15 minutes.

Stella was starting to become concerned, about a lot of things.

Stella went back around to the back of the house. She used a rock to break out the window to the basement laundry room

''WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" the new house alarm was ear piercing. Stella, startled and shocked, jumps to her feet and covers her ears. Stella didn't know that Bob had a new alarm system installed. "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" The alarm continued its very high-decibel scream. Doors up and down the neighborhood opened, heads poked out and eyes were drawn to the noise. Stella, hands covering her ears runs around to the front lawn; Stella is now screaming.

The "WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP" continued, unabated.

The WHOOP WHOOP dominates the neighborhood until almost 4:20. That's when the cops show up. They can't shut off the WHOOP WHOOP. THEY ARE TRYING TO TALK with Stella, but the WHOOP WHOOP made that very hard to do.

Bob shows up about 10 minutes later. He drives up his driveway, pushed his garage door opener and drives into the now-opened garage. He climbs out of his car and opens a keypad on the side of the garage. Blissful, blessed silence rang over the neighborhood.

Bob closes the garage door on the way into his home. He watches the garage door close on the now almost-silent (there were some birds singing and distant traffic noise, but anyone who was close to Bob and Stella's house are suffering from temporary? deafness) neighbors, cops and Stella.

After a bit, the cops knock on Bob and Stella's front door. Bob showed the cops his I.D. Bob gave the cops several sets of papers. Bob can see the process server sitting in a car across the street. The process server gets out of his car and strolls over to Stella. He serves Stella, who was still sitting in the backseat of the cop car. There were restraining orders and divorce papers, oh my!

Stella starts screaming. While her screams are impressive, they really didn't hold a candle the WHOOP WHOOP.

The cops turn, and like the heroes that they really are, run toward Stella's screams.

When the cops finally got things settled down and figured out...they instructed Stella to leave.

Bob made sure she took the old ugly set of luggage with her. He didn't help her carry it to her car.

————————————-

They were sitting in her lawyer's office conference room. They each had legal representation. They were here to talk about their divorce settlement.

Bob looked at his wife. She wasn't looking as sexy nor as disheveled as the day he locked her out of the house.

The current sticking point was "their" house. Her lawyer is like a dog with a bone over the house. There was way more equity in the house...and it was right there in front of him, for the taking (he was working on a percentage plus billable hours). He isn't a lawyer to help people. He doesn't have any grand designs on making the world a better place. Nope, he has his eyes on a new 500 series BMW, and his bill from this divorce would put him over the top. He wants to stroll in and pay cash. That and he really wants to stick it to her husband's lawyer. He is very motivated.

But there was a niggling little detail that got in her lawyer's way. It wasn't "their" house. Bob had it in his own name, free and clear years before they married.

Bob's lawyer knew his opponent. They had faced off a number of times before. They were tied, each had won against the other 3 times in the last two years. So, in the spirt of Nebraska College football, the two lawyers were going at each other for all they were worth. Bob's lawyer wasn't too concerned about things. That is because win, lose or draw, he would make bank in this divorce. Nor would it matter how good a job he did, nor what the outcome of this divorce action. While he wasn't thinking about a new BMW, he did have his eyes on a fishing cabin, with property, just a 2-hour drive out of town.

Bob, looked around the office where they were having their "settlement" conference. As far as Bob could tell, he was a cow getting milked by both lawyers. Bob's blood pressure was pretty high. His tolerance for this bullshit was pretty low. His calm exterior didn't expose his rising anger. Bob's future ex-wife wasn't helping Bob chill. Nope; she would poke, poke, poke Bob. It was almost lunchtime but Bob wasn't hungry. The gallons of coffee he had that morning had his stomach filled with acidic bile.

Stella was actually enjoying the settlement conference; well more accurately, the way it was making Bob feel. that really gave her pleasure. But, she strongly felt that after two-and-a-half years of merriment that was her marriage, she should get at least "their" house. Seriously. As well as spousal maintenance, for at least 10 years or so. She'd worked hard for the money.

While Bob was a pretty sharp businessman, this shit was way too fuckin; personal for him...so his normal thoughtful, moderate behavior was just about to be ejected, like the fighter pilot who is spiraling down towards the ground.

Truth is Bob was just this side of losing it, when they broke for lunch.

—————————————

That afternoon, there was no progress made. In fact, by the time they were done, they had lost ground. Now she wanted part of his business! When they called it a day at 5:30, Bob was toast. Out, was really, truly all he wanted at this point.

Bob was just that close to saying yes to end all this crap, except for that small little detail that, the FUCKIN' BITCH COULD ROT IN HELL before he would willingly give her one red cent! He was resigned to wasting more days of his life dealing with his hopefully soon-to-be-ex and her slimy lawyer...and that really didn't improve his mood. At this rate, it was even money that Bob would be looking for. A hit man (or woman, or trans, gender fluid or other non cis or X gender folk) by the end of next week.

So, just to be clear, Bob was NOT a happy camper.

——————————————

Bob needed the break. Bob was steadfast in his demand. Either he got a break or he had better hire a criminal defense attorney, 'cuz he was gonna need one.

They took a two-week break in the confrontational 'settlement' meetings.

______________________

When Bob and Stella first hooked up, it was for a 'hook up'. He found her on Sugar4Sugar.com, a sugar baby/daddy website. Bob was logged on as BigBob while Stella's screen name was SizzledScreamer.

Bob, with all his hard work to build his company, was on Sugar4Sugar.com because he didn't really have time to date...well not the traditional kind of dates anyway. Ok, he didn't have any dating prospects and he really needed to get laid.

After a bit of back and forth, they decided to meet. The fact of the matter was that Stella had a couple of sugar daddies in her stable already. She was experienced. Bob, was a newbie to the whole sugar daddy thing.

They had coffee together. It went very well. They ended up at Bob's house (just a small cottage really, only about 5,000 square feet perched on about a 1/4 acre of lawn(with a very nice view of the city down below)). The first time they fucked was in Bob's pool that afternoon.

Bob was smitten. But he was being careful. Stella didn't move in until the next weekend.

For a while, things went very well for Bob. At 47, with a bit of a paunch and his typical male pattern baldness, he was pretty excited to be dating someone 15 years younger. That was a great ego boost for Bob. The fact that Stella was a rock star in bed didn't hurt either.

They lived together for about 3 months until Stella's hints to Bob finally hit home. The biggest issue of their relationship was the building tension around signing a pre-nuptial agreement. Bob's lawyers were insistent. Stella was resistant.

Eventually, after Bob offered her a 'signing bonus', and with some tinkering to the language of the document, he got her John Hancock on the signature page of the agreement. Once that happened, Bob and Stella were off to the races. Within about 10 hours they had flown to Vegas, baby, Vegas! to enter into wedded bliss. An Elvis Presley knockoff married them. The witnesses were an older couple who were renewing their vows after a bout of infidelity, yet again.

From there, Bob and Stella headed to The Paris where they had secured a room with a view. (Admittedly, it was a view of the back side of another hotel, but they weren't in the hotel room for the view.) The only requirement they had in a room was that it must have a king-size (or larger) bed. That first night it was the Bob and Stella show. They did some gambling, and lost. Several drinks later, they grabbed a cab and hit the "Deja Vu Love Boutique Las Vegas". They emerged with several large black bags. Back in the cab. They bought some legal weed. Then it was back to the room. Sex and room service, hubba hubba hubba!

The next night, Stella got a hold a friend who was also, coincidentally, on Sugar4Sugar.com. She brought one of her sugar daddies, and the couples got into some hot mixed doubles.

The next two nights was a whole lot more of the same (Well, that's not true. Bob got deep into strange shit that night, the next day and then that night.) As some marketing guy once kinda said, "What happens in Vegas, baby, Vegas! Stays in Vegas, baby, Vegas!" (And if you believe that, have I got a bridge for you!).

All in all, after four amazing daze and nights (that damned near killed Bob), they headed home. Bob had a perma-grin plastered on his face all the way.

After the honeymoon, Bob and Stella decided that swinging wasn't their bag. Bob had done shit with Stella he never dreamed he would do. Hell, Bob never even knew that a lot of that shit that he did/had done to him, even existed! In truth, while amazingly sexy, hot, unreal kinky, feeling pretty good sometimes, and pretty god damned strange at others...it kinda scared the shit outta Bob.

They agreed to be exclusive.

Well, Bob thought they had agreed. In reality, it really wasn't that big a thing for Bob to agree to. Stella, 15 years younger with a rockin' hot body, some history, experience and not a lot of sexual hard lines, Stella did Rock. His. World. Now, Stella, had never actually, specifically agreed (like she didn't say the words) to being exclusive and she also figured what Bob didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Stella was also on the clock. The first payday under the new pre-nuptials agreement came at the end of year one. It was $50,000. The next payday wasn't until the end of year 5.

The first year of the marriage was pretty damned hot. Sex in every room of Bob's 'cottage', on the back deck, in the garage, by the pool, in the pool and on the pool house. Bob was getting better at sex. You know, practice practice practice. But Stella came to the marriage as a sex superstar. So, Bob, at his best, when compared with Stella's long list of lovers, was way in last place. (Except for Ricky, a pimply faced 14-year-old boy she had sex with when she was pretty young and new to the sex thing, so he didn't really count.) As year two of their marriage drew to a close, Stella was comfortable enough to start to treat Bob like shit. What was he going to do?

In the last six months of their marriage, Bob had gotten laid three times, had two hand jobs and one blow job from Stella. While Bob was, well, pretty damned frustrated, he hung in there. He stayed true to Stella.

When it came to Stella, well she just hadn't been caught.

...then there was that day...

——————

Her boy toy was not bad, well, except in a good way. Stella was so pleased. Yeah, he was young, but he was established. He was in excellent shape. He worked out at least three days a week, and it showed. She loved his chiseled pecks. He had a great smile, dimples, full, thick, wavy hair; perfect for running fingers through. And, most importantly, his cock wasn't just magnificently beautiful but also impressive in both length and girth. Not like crazy big, she could get it in her ass, but big enough to really light her up. He, too, was pretty skilled in the sex department. He cut his chops, so to speak, working his way through school as a porno actor.

But, he was tight. He was most definitely money motivated. And once he got his hands on some money, he really didn't like to it let go. He could worry a penny into wire. He worked hard for the money.

Their first date was "dutch". Stella was shocked after dinner when he insisted on paying only half the bill. She didn't know what the term "dutch" meant. When he had first used the term "dutch", she figured it was some kind of kinky sex act with food or dinner or something. After dinner they went drinking, he only bought himself drinks. No man had ever behaved in such a manner towards her. Oddly, it intrigued Stella.

He was a fast talker with quick hands. He got Stella a bit hot and enough bothered to get her back to his place. The next morning when Stella woke up, the first thing she did was call Bob and lie her ass off.

Over the next few months Stella and her lover got busy at out-of-the-way, hole-in-the-wall type places. They tended to move around. Hey, part of the fun with illicit affairs IS the sneaking around parts. Stella was being careful with her (Bob's) credit cards, and her lover wouldn't spring for a room. So, it was cheap, cash only rooms they frequented. Her lover bitched, but, the sex was off the charts good. Hey, as long as she was paying...