HALF A MOTEL ROOM IS BETTER THAN NONE

I stood there in the marble-tiled lobby of the upscale motel chain and looked at the blank face of the apologetic clerk telling me I had to share my reward bonus motel room with some stranger with the same last name.

It would not have been so dire a circumstance except for the fact that the Murphy in question was called Peter and I was a lifelong Mary. I wanted to shout out that this Mary Murphy did not plan to share her private quarters with any Peter regardless of the coincidence of an identical last name. I certainly was not going to sleep with any unknown Peter or Dick that came along even if I was in the midst of a long dry spell and had to resort to my battery-operated device with shameful regularity.

The clerk went into a long spiel about how the booking system had a conflict because of the identical last name and the fact that my fellow room-mate had actually paid the full price of the room and I had simply used my complimentary “rewards” points to claim the room as mine.

I had been a long-time loyal patron of the motel chain because they had these fantastic “always clean” rooms and complimentary goodies in the bathroom that tickled my fancy. In fact, they even had dual condoms behind the soap dish that mystified me the first time I saw them. Of course, I never used them on any of my single-white-female trips for business, but I was quick to tuck them away in my purse like baseball cards to collect for a day when I was on a honeymoon and had need for all I could consume in a wild spree of carnal bliss.

Let me hasten to assure you that this Mary Murphy was no shy little virgin.

I had been fucked good and proper by my sister’s boyfriend Darrin on more than one occasion, but I ask your discretion in not saying that too loudly to anyone else. Darrin was an easy lay because my tease of a sister would let him get a base hit, and allow him to steal second and even, occasionally make it all the way to third. She was a timid cocksucker and any thought of ever letting poor Darrin reach home plate was completely out of the question.

I had seen the frustration on his pathetic face and didn’t hesitate to pull my panties down for his perusal behind the locked door of the small guest bathroom. It was all the motivation required to flood my needy vagina with his long denied release of horny male spunk. I absolutely adored the shit-eating grin on his handsome face that made my pulse beat a whole lot faster. In fact, he was quite the gentleman by leaving it inside me a lot longer than necessary.

On the other hand, Darrin was a complete prick when it came to cheating on my sister.

I had to call it quits with him, when he started spanking my ass cheeks to a bright shade of red, and telling me that real girls shared their ass holes with guys, if they were really submissive and had true loving feelings for their relationship.

I felt that my selfish sister and Darrin deserved each other and I decided to purchase an upgrade model of a ten inch molded penis device in midnight black to take care of my desire for sex. I was fairly liberal in my attitude about racial relations, but my feelings about “going black” were limited to the faux variety and I would be extremely embarrassed about actually wrapping my long white legs around a black man no matter how handsome or well-endowed. Besides, I was not the typical “white pussy” type that young black men seemed to be attracted to and I tended to treat all men with a certain degree of distain that usually turned them off before they really got to know how passionate I could really be when the lights were turned down real low.

The other Murphy turned up in the lobby as I was signing the register and he was equally as astonished at the requirement to share the last remaining room with a complete stranger of the other sex..

We both inquired about an alternate location of the motel chain only a kilometer away and closer to the beach.

Unfortunately, there was a golf tournament in progress and all the rooms at that location and in all the motels in a ten kilometer wide radius were all booked up. We had no choice but to share the room or one of us would have to sleep in the lobby until the next morning. I didn’t think my almost sheer sports bra that did nothing to hide my well-defined nipples or my white lace thong would be appropriate for nocturnal use on the lobby sofa. It was what I preferred to sleep in except for those times I slipped under the sheets totally “au natural”.  

The ride up in the elevator to the fifth floor was sheer torture.

I had no idea what to say to Mister Peter Murphy and I could tell he was completely out of synch with the situation.

 I sensed he was a very private person and was already embarrassed at the thought of sleeping in a room with a complete stranger of the opposite sex. I think if we had met in the bar and had a couple of drinks and proceeded along the same path it would have been a “what will be, will be” situation and we could fuck like rabbits and think nothing about it.

This was a different situation with us thrown together unexpectedly and I frantically searched his fingers looking for tell-tale traces of a wedding ring.

 I had an insane need to know more about him, but was afraid to ask a single leading question for fear he would think I was interested in him physically and actually harbored a secret ambition to get laid as soon as the “do not disturb” sign was put on the door.

He was in and out of the bathroom like a jackrabbit on speed.

The sight of a strange man wearing ankle length pajamas was oddly exciting to me and I pretended not to notice. I hoped he did not suspect my pussy was tingling non-stop with speculation about the bulge in his crotch. I realized it had been more than a year since I had taken a male tool between my legs and I wondered if my battery operated device had kept my female equipment in reasonable working order for some carnal delights on this decidedly enchanted evening.

I took far too long in the bathroom and I knew it was because I spent too much time looking at my pulsating snatch and obviously aroused nipples in the mirror. I suspected that Peter in the next room would be on me like a drunken sailor the moment he saw my state of agitated female anticipation.

He was stretched out on the bed reading a silly science-fiction book and looking good enough for me to gobble up before we got down to real business. I wondered what position he might want me in and hoped it was either “doggie style” or with my ankles up on his shoulders so I could get the best leverage from his masculine assets.

I knew he was actually eating up my sports bra and the tiny little white lace thong.

It was easy to pretend complete indifference as I turned my back to him and bent over to fluff up the numerous pillows on my queen-sized bed on my side of the night table. I knew my thong cord would be spreading my ass cheeks just the way most guys imagine they might nail a strange pussy with no questions asked.

The touch of his impulsive hands on my almost bare flanks led me to gasp in appreciation for his taking the first move. I leaned over the side of the bed and buried my face in the soft white pillow taking the full measure of his oversized rod between my ass cheeks. At first, I thought he might be headed straight to my defenseless sphincter like most men with an itch to screw a strange female all the way up her ass with no holds barred.

I was quite relieved to feel his bullet-head probing into the rear end of my slit and easily sliding into my already drenched vagina like the other half of my soul-mate destiny. My thought was that if we did ever decide to hook up in an actual marriage, our names would stay the same because they were already identical.

I felt certain the motel guests in the next room could hear our bed bouncing against the wall with a familiar “thump…thump…thump”.

Peter roughly shouted some orders at me and I did my best to accommodate his desires.

I arrived at that point in time when the clocks stood still and I was simply groaning and moaning like some painted whore making her trick hump her harder with undeniable passion.

Filthy words spilled from my lips like maggots of my sex-deprived submerged thoughts.

“Fuck me, you bastard! Fuck me hard and make me take it all the way.”

Peter gave me an annoying smile and twisted my sensitive nipple with his long piano playing fingers in a way that shut me up and made me spurt some unintended female juices on the clean white sheets.

“Oh my God! That’s the spot. Please don’t stop. Right there. Do it right there. Make me take it like a slut for your cock.”

I blushed in the dim light feeling certain our neighbors in the next room could hear every shouted out word in the midnight hours. The bed continued to pound the wall like a run-away engine revving up to a red-line finish.

My orgasm started so quickly that I was already shuddering with my jerking contortions under his expert masculine guidance leading me in for a three-point landing on the devastated bedding.

I imagined our audience around us clapping our final act as the curtain fell on our filled-condom performance.

I shook out some extras from my purse and I knew Peter was laughing at me because he knew I wanted to use them all.

In between our rounds of sexual explorations, we got to learn about each other and I was happy that he was without either spouse or current girl-friend. Apparently, his girl-friend of almost two years had been two-timing him with their boss and he was out of the picture and forced to keep his mouth shut if he wanted to keep his job.

I felt so bad for him that I turned over on my tummy and told him,

“Stick it up my tight little ass and pretend my ass is hers and you are getting back at her for her cheating ways.”

He got the idea immediately and moments later, he was happily spanking my ass cheeks and telling me, “You are a bad girl. Bad girls have to be corrected. Tell me how bad you are and beg me to forgive you.”

His rough treatment was just the thing I needed to push me into a multi-orgasm and my red cheeks were smarting as he withdrew the next filled condom like some trophy of satisfied revenge.

After that, we fell into a pattern of great “69” and I think that he won out because his tongue was longer and he seemed to enjoy alternating between my front entrance and my rear portal causing me no end of confusion, until I sprayed both of us and the bed with my liquid appreciation for his superior efforts.

The next morning, we both went down to the free breakfast bar and I swore a bunch of the people from the fifth floor was looking at us like we had just won the Olympic games in some far-away part of the world.

The desk clerk was startled when we made reservations for the following weekend and asked for the same room to celebrate a repeat performance.

I hoped I had enough condoms for a future honeymoon.