Voyeur Motel: The Spectacle

Voyeur Motel: The Spectacle

A quick tale of spied upon self-gratification of a young woman

Mary the Wollstonecraft Woman

© Copyright 2023 by Mary the Wollstonecraft Woman

This is a work of fiction and not intended to promote a lifestyle. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to any person, living or dead, is merely coincidental.

Voyeur Motel: The Spectacle

I operate a motel and have security cameras concealed inside every room. Watching the customers at night can be very entertaining for me. So, when this eighteen-year-old girl checked in for the night, on a visit to the local college, I took notice.

Impossible for me not to wonder if some stud would show up, or would she give a solo show, maybe if no one showed up, I'd try to hit on her. My mind just works that way. Cause, let me tell you, she's a hot little number.

When she got back from her day visit, she went straight into her room. Climbing out of her close, she got into the shower and soaped up. It was a slow, sexy shower, as lathered up, the little winch massaged her tits, belly, legs and that sweet, hairless pussy of hers. Man o man, she worked her sweet cunt, but good.

We have removable shower heads with the massage option. And she put the fucker right on her clit and pounded herself into nirvana. With her head thrown back, eyes are closed, her mouth slightly ajar, moaning, gasping as if she were running a marathon. As if someone were holding a knife to her throat.

All the while letting out streams of profanities that no decent 18-year-old girl would know.

From her lithe little body, her full, soft tits hung like oranges ready for picking. Her tight ass quivered and shook, narrow waist gyrated, and flat abdomen quivered. She was so firm and trim, made me want to eat her up. Her tongue rolled out. She thrashed her head from side to side, a wet mess of tangled raven black hair, the color of tar, whipping about until I was almost in a frenzy.

With water running down her body, the hot spray, the steam fogging up the glass door, the mirror, and her mind in a fog of self fucking. Her every breath, her pants, moans, groans, moans, cries, gasps, her every word drives me near the nut point.

The water cascading down her body, touching her breasts, her belly, her legs. The water pelted her as she rammed three fingers inside her pussy, working in and out. I could see the dildo hitting her G-spot, fucking her, fucking her.

A siren song, a moan punctuated by a groan, the slapping of skin against skin, the gush of water. I lost my load into a flour-sack towel. I believed she's burned through her passion. But this bitch wasn't even close to done.

After twenty minutes, or they're a-bouts, she turned the water off and toweled dry.

She sat on her bed, thumbing through some book, and smoking a joint. At times, she slowed the page, turns, and read passages or whole pages, wiggling about while she did. It was a dirty book. Shit, as if possessed by an unseen force, she got randy again.

Stripping naked, she straddled the pillow, stuffing one hand between the pillow of her body, with the other, she ran her hands over the pillow like she caressed a lover. Soon, she was kissing the pillow, squeezing it, and humping her hand, or the pillow, or both.

Her hips ungulated, her body writhed, and she gave wet, passionate kisses to the pillowcase. She humped and ground against it feverishly, as if it were a real man beneath her. Her hips ungulated and her tight little body writhed in pleasure, as though fucking for real.

She kissed and licked its soft surface passionately, squeezing it tight in her arms as if it was a living being giving pleasure back to her.

Then suddenly there came a surge of pleasure, taking over her entire body as if transported into another realm of blissful pleasure. The angle of the position had allowed for maximum stimulation with perfect accuracy — hitting the right spot every time. Orgasm after orgasm rolled over her, crashing her into herself like the rocks pummeled by waves from the ocean.

She gasped and moaned with delight before having a powerful orgasm. Her body trembled, and she contorted under the relentless pleasure. She appeared lost in the moment, suspended in a state of euphoria as orgasm after orgasm crashed over her.

Her body melted into the pillows and mattress. While her breath coming in shallow pants and her partner's body flattened, almost becoming part of her. With each wave of pleasure, the sensation appeared to intensify until she seemed to float in clouds of rapture.

I'd let her sleep for a bit before I introduced myself to her and see if she like black cock.