I was in another motel room awaiting another whore. It was a Monday night, and I had nothing else to do but waste time and burn money. I sat there at the desk staring at the wall, scribbling on crumbled notes. Scribbling away my madness and loneliness onto a jotted page as I awaited Lady Night.
I was sat at the chair scratching my beard, wearing nothing but socks drinking down cheap gin. I wrote down my previous week’s events, in my personal memoirs that I had been collecting. And put them away in the suitcase beside the bed.
A knock came at the door.
I opened it fully, standing nude in the doorway in front of that goddess.
“Reggie,” she said, smiling and blushing.
“Lady Night,” I said back.
Her name, as you may well guess isn’t Lady Night. But to me it might as well have been, they were all Lady Night. She might have told me her name once before, but I couldn’t remember it. And she never corrected me anyway.
She walked straight in, throwing her leather jacket on my desk revealing her cheap attire. A white shirt tied poorly hiding a simple black bra, holding in her great bosom, and that tight plaid skirt with fishnets and knee-high boots too. My head dipped from side to side like a hungry dog, those legs, those breasts, those hips I thought.
All for me.
“All for you,” she said.
She knew me all too well.
“I know you all too well,” she said.
My head pulsed, and my cock drooled aching to have her. She drew the shades and unbuttoned her shirt throwing it on the floor next to my suitcase. And the heels too. Lady Night licked her lips & I bit my lips. Clenching my fist as I sat on the bed.
Lady Night, Lady Night, Lady Night.
Show me a good night.
She glided over and pushed back her dark locks and her eyes locked onto mine as she dived low on bended knee. Consuming me. Her mouth around me. Her tongue on me. She moaned, and I moaned.
I leant back and moved up the bed, she followed. Everywhere I went she followed. And sucked me out of my oblivion. Swallowing my seed whole – not a wasted drop, and she was thankful.
She lifted her legs up and presented herself. I obliged and removed her panties, smelling, sniffing and gorging on her scent. “You’re such a wicked beast,” she said smiling as she pushed me forward straddling herself into me.
With Lady Night on top stroking my hairy chest, and I her firm breast. Then she plunged on to me, and I plunged into her. Into the folds of Lady Night. She screamed, cried, and cooed. Lady Night drunk on me. We rocked, back and forth and eventually changing to a fourth position.
Cowgirl, missionary, doggy, and finally on the desktop. Her sweat culminating with mine, her eyes and my eyes locked, her fingers interlocked with mine. My dick – her hole. Her breath on my neck. My breath on her breast. The table collapsed, and we fell to the floor with her on top of me yet again. Lady Night’s head rocketed backwards in flight and my seed rumbled in fright, exploding into her wet charms.
She laughed. I coughed.
Lady Night gave me a kiss and slowly got up, standing over my naked sweat-soaked body with my cum dripping from her lovely cum soaked hole. She helped me up and we stood face to face and hugged. Two hot, sweat-soaked and ravished bodies caressing each other for one last time.
I sat on the bed. And she got dressed. And said.
“How much do I owe you?”
“$150,” I said.
Lady Night paid me and left.
And that was that.
I fell back to my broken desk, with notes in tow scribbling of further points of madness and loneliness, burning the money she gave me and awaiting another Lady Night, for another lonely night.