Posted 20030412 to alt.sex.stories.moderated. 
The Noname Motel (MF,prostitution,F-solo,oral)
by Philip Harris

 It was almost nine o'clock at night when I reached 
Albuquerque.  The long desert drive from Flagstaff was 
brutal for a midwestern boy like myself.  My rental car had 
become covered with fine yellow dust. 

I pulled off the highway at the first exit ramp where I 
could see more than two motel signs.  There I tried motel 
after motel, but all the big chain places were full.  There 
was only one more motel I could try, its sign barely 
visible behind an industrial park.  Above the vacancy sign 
it said only Motel; there was no other name.

I took my one luggage bag from my car's trunk, and lifted 
my heavy camera case to my shoulder.  All of the lenses and 
camera bodies would need cleaning tonight--damn the yellow 
dust.

The motel lobby was hotter even than the outside air.  A 
box fan sat on the floor blowing the heat around, and a 
second box fan stood on the check-in counter, blowing the 
heat back again.  There was a girl on the phone--no; her 
sweaty breasts, ostentatiously displayed by her plunging, 
open shirt, showed that she was very much a woman.  

She spared me barely a flick of her eyelids, and then 
ignored me for 15 minutes while she spoke in Spanish to 
whomever was on the other end of the line.  I knew only 
enough Spanish to understand she was arguing with someone 
that they had to work tonight because the rooms were almost 
all full.

I was hot and tired, but I waited patiently because I 
needed a bed for the night and didn't want to be turned out 
to the highway again.  When she finally put down her 
telephone she rolled her chair to the reception counter and 
leaned forward in an enticing way that instantly made me 
forgive her my long wait.  "Welcome," she said with very 
pleasent sincerity  She was very good at being likable. 

The room price was cheap, only $35.  I got the room nearest 
to the office.  "Twelve is the special channel," she said 
as I took my room key.  I didn't understand that, but I 
said nothing anyway.

The room smelled of cigarettes, and of heavy perfume to 
mask the cigarettes.  There was no air conditioning, just a 
slowly turning ceiling fan.  I showered, wearing my shower 
flip-flops into the bedroom too because the carpet was 
dirty.  It was too hot to wear clothes so I sat on the edge 
of the bed and cleaned my camera gear while dressed only in 
my underwear.

I'd had no supper.  Eating would have to wait until 
breakfast.  At 11 o'clock I turned on the room TV and 
watched the news.  After that I started surfing the other 
channels.

Oh, this is what she meant by channel 12 being the special 
channel.  Channel 12 showed a woman applying a very big, 
knobby dildo deep within her pussy.  It was a long, rubbery 
phallus.  She sat on a bed, her legs spread for the camera, 
working the dildo for a quite a long time.  Her climax 
wasn't easy to achieve.  It took a lot of effort from her.  
The poor girl obviously needed a man, and found tortured 
difficulty in self-release.  Finally a good deal of wetness 
gushed from her pussy, making me relieved and happy for 
her.  I couldn't help myself from playing along.

My arousal was interrupted by a knock at the door.  A 
glance at the clock showed that it had just then turned 
midnight.  There was no peephole, so I parted the curtain 
and saw that the motel receptionist was outside.  I was in 
only my underwear, totally erect, but with sudden insight I 
knew why she was here.  As I opened the door she asked, "Do 
you want company tonight?"  

She'd started to recite it as if by rote, but half way 
through her sentence she looked down at my taut briefs, 
smiled in an amused way, and came into the room without 
waiting for my answer.  Before closing the door I had time 
to notice that at least two other girls were also making 
the rounds of the motel rooms.

As soon as I shut the room door my new guest knelt on the 
floor, pulled down my shorts, slipped something into her 
mouth, and began sucking my cock and teasing my balls.  
Somehow during that she'd slipped a condom onto me.

"How much?" I asked, but she stopped sucking only long 
enough to pull her shirt off.  What tits!  She was wearing 
a bra, but it was just a lacy support, open at the nipples.  
She started sucking me again right away.

"We . . . ooh . . . should talk about price first," I tried 
to say, but she was very good at cock sucking and I was 
already close to explosion.  I couldn't tear myself away 
from her although I was trying to.  I've traveled about 
enough to know what a prostitute's price is if you don't 
bargain ahead of time--all the money you have.

She pulled my cock from her mouth just before I came.  
Slipping the condom off me, she quickly stroked me to 
splashing orgasm right over her tits.  My cum oozed 
downward between her breasts.  Before I'd even finished 
cumming she had my cock between her boobs, and was fucking 
it with her cleavage.  She had me fucking her tits with my 
own cum.  

She cleaned my cock off quickly with some kind of very soft 
towellette, taken from a purse that she'd brought with her.  
Then she used another towellette to finger-clean between 
her breasts.  I wondered how many men's semen her bra had 
been soaked with.

"Do you like to take pictures?" she asked, indicating all 
of my camera gear around the room.  She took her bra off 
and towellette-cleaned the rest of her breasts, sucking her 
own nipples for a finale.  Her skirt and panties came off 
in one movement.  Taking a vibrator and several condom 
packets from her purse, she got into my bed.

"Can we talk about the money first?" I asked, hurriedly 
grabbing up my camera gear and stuffing most of it away 
into my camera case to prevent its theft.  I quickly 
twisted a wide-angle lens onto a camera body that I knew 
was loaded with Kodachrome.

"We talk about money afterward," she said.  "It depends on 
what we do."  She said this with such inticing promise that 
I shut up about money, feeling like a jerk for having 
mentioned it.

I got fresh batteries into my smallest flash unit, clipped 
it into the hot shoe, and started snapping away.  Covering 
a hundred car races in my younger days had taught me to 
load and shoot fast.  She started with one finger first, 
just inside her pussy lips.  Her wetness was genuine; it 
came from within.

Then she two-finger fucked deeply, spreading her juice on 
her nipples and sucking her fingers.  That pussy must have 
known a lot of cocks, I thought.  She was very brave to 
taste it.

"Do you want to taste?" she asked suddenly, offering with 
her fingers.  It declined. "It tastes good," she teased, 
sucking her fingers again.

And now the dildo.  She spread her legs, arching her hips 
to give me a good view.  I got some really excellent 
pictures.  She only interrupted for a moment, to grab a 
towel out of the bedside table drawer.  I'd never have 
expected to find a towel there.  She triple-folded the 
towel and placed it underneath her.  

"Do you want to fuck me," she asked, "or have me cum like 
this?"  I had her continue as she was.  She lay full upon 
the bed and dildoed herself to a gush.  The towel caught 
her juices, and my camera caught everything else.  She 
dildoed through three rolls of film.

"Now we fuck," she said.

"I really couldn't," I told her.  "You made me cum so good 
before."

"I make you cum again," she said.  "I bet I make you cum 
again."

Two girls were climaxing loudly on the television, which 
was still on during all this time.  This woman in my bed 
looked terrific.  Her open, just-gushed-with-cum pussy 
seemed irresistible.  The eroticism of the moment was 
overpowering.  

"I promise I can make you cum," she said, "I promise you 
can have me until you do.  I promise you own me for as long 
as you need."  She knew her business.  I was hesitating 
from lack of confidence, but she her coaxing was impossible 
to refuse.  Hers was the promise of a professional.  I put 
my camera down.

She swiftly brought me to half erection with her fingers, 
firm enough for her to slip a condom on me.  That's when I 
fear losing it, during the condom fumble, but her technique 
was perfect.  By the time the condom was on me I was as 
hard as a teenager.  Then she went to work with her mouth 
and made me feel like a steel rod.

"Me on top," she said.  I lay on the bed and she mounted 
me, her pussy clinching with insistent passion while she 
breast-bounced above me.  She took my hands and cupped them 
to her breasts, spanking her own ass hard as if whipping 
herself to fuck better.  Her sex noises were loving and 
sweet.  

She tore my cum from me.  I can't put it another way.  She 
demanded it with her whole body.  Her breasts begged me to 
cum.  Her pussy pleaded for my semen, her ass squashed it 
from my balls.  "Oh, you are fucking me so well," she 
praised just as I was cumming.

"I have to use the shower first," she said, popping in and 
out of the motel room's shower in only a minute, her hair 
somehow still dry.

"You make love good," she said.  "Can I have copies of the 
pictures?"

I promised to send her some, although I never asked her 
name or where to send them.  It was $100 for the blowjob, 
$300 for the fuck, and $600 for the pictures, another $100 
in tip for excellent service.  She accepted a credit card.  
As I heard her knocking on another room door I wondered: 
how am I going to charge all that to National Geographic?

-end-

More stories by Philip Harris can be found on http://www.asstr.org/~pharris/.
