The Car Stops...

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A brief interlude in Room Seven.
653 words
4.1
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The car stops on wet pavement...

It's very late on a sultry summer night and a light rain is falling in the motel parking lot. The door to room seven lies in shadow. The windows are dark.

She's asleep, he thinks to himself and is surprised when the handle turns and the door swings open. At first he sees nothing, then the pink glow of the motel's blinking neon sign momentarily illuminates the room and the dark haired woman sitting on the bed. She reaches over and turns on a small lamp. He watches her and wonders at his luck in finding this girl, out here in the middle of nowhere. She is sensuously beautiful. He's been thinking of her constantly. He's aroused now as he looks at her. She stands and begins to remove the black slip, the one he bought for her. She takes her time, first one thin strap falls, then the other. He quietly shuts the door and leans back against it.

She's smiling... innocent, knowing, seductively smiling. Her smooth shoulders are the color of honey in the dim yellow light. She raises one arm beneath her breasts, keeping the slip from falling and lifting herself to him deliciously. He thinks of her skin, its texture, it's taste, his mouth waters, his cock tightens and strains. He slowly walks to her, six measured steps across the room, the carpet whispers. Fingers reaching...

Rose bud nipples stiffen as he strokes them. He kisses her lightly on the lips, tongue tracing the line of her jaw, her neck, her throat... She feels his lips on her shoulders, and lets the slip fall to her waist. His tongue moves down across the rising curve of her breasts until he takes the sensitive tips in his mouth, sucking them in gently, flicking his tongue across them. Her eyes shut, she arches back, pushing herself against his face, fingers lacing into his hair, she pulls him closer, tighter, his mouth filling with her warm responsive flesh.

He moves his hand lightly down her body, caressing lines around her navel and then lower, pushing the slip down around her hips until it falls softly to the carpet. His other hand takes hers and presses it against him. Her fingers wrap around his thick throbbing penis... She can feel the heat through the thin fabric of his pants. She strokes him gently and his hand moves to caress her mons. His fingers slide easily between her legs along the sensitive moist lips of her pussy. She feels one finger entering her and then a second, moving slowly deeper. His mouth has returned to her breasts, sucking the nipples and the sweet flesh around them... playthings for his tongue. She moans and pushes herself against his hand, pushes herself onto the probing fingers. Her clitoris is engorged, rubbing against his palm and she moves her hips to take more of him into her. His lips are moving from one breast to another, his hand moving faster, curling up into her, his thumb massaging her clit. She can feel his cock pressed hotly between them, her hand circles his waist, pulling him tighter, her movements, close against him, are bringing him close to the edge. As his hand brings her to the brink, his tongue moves into her mouth in rhythm with the motion of his fingers within her. He wants desperately to penetrate her, he wants to bury himself in her, drive in hard, hard and deep. Merging...

The thought... the thought... is enough... Fuck!

God... he cums... he cums.

She feels the spasm, she feels the flood of warmth as he releases against her. Squeezing hard she drives herself on to him, his fingers moving into... her... she moans, she flows, she rushes... she cums.

They stand embracing in the dark room for a long time, the neon sign outside intermittently shining through the falling rain.

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