From Behind Mirrored Sunglasses

Author's Notes: This story has been posted to Literotica. Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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Allison O'Connor checked into the Home Comfort Inn and wheeled her suitcase from the lobby to Room 114. Once in her room, she smirked, shaking her head. Motel rooms all looked alike after a while; same basic floor plan, same cheap polyester bedspreads, same slightly misshapen foam rubber pillows, same pressboard nightstand with wall mounted lamps holding inadequate LED energy saving light bulbs that did not illuminate anything.

The bathrooms were very similar as well. Shower tub combination with fixed shower head. Vanity with single sink built into the faux marble with barely enough room for the single cup coffee maker, the soap and shampoo bottles and the folded over face cloth with wrapped bar of soap resting on the cloth. Against the wall was the pedestal toilet with towel racks above that.

"The Walchester Grande was pretty good," she mused to herself as she gratefully used the toilet to relieve the hours of road coffee. "Then again, for the sales convention, it had better be good absolutely."

"Yes, absolutely. The Walchester," she smiled, thinking of a sweet little innocent faced blonde she'd managed to find working at Frankly Franks, a little hot dog restaurant near the campus of the local university.

It was shortly after four in the afternoon; Allison was too wired on hours of driving and endless cups of coffee to lay down. She wasn't hungry just yet; a late lunch at a hole in the wall diner had fed her an amazing tamale platter.

She'd learned long ago to look for either trucks, eighteen wheelers or motorcycles. Truckers and bikers knew where the best food could be found. If there were a lot of bikes and luxury automobiles in the parking lot, she would get a good meal at a good price.

She was dressed for comfort; no one cared how professional she looked as she drove the highways. Dropping her suitcase onto the small circular table in the room, she fished around and found her shorts. Her baggy sweatpants were stuffed into the suitcase and she left it on the table. Bed bugs did not usually climb onto tables to hide in suitcases.

Out of vanity, she gave herself the once-over in the mirror. The dim lighting in the room showed her that she was a good looking twenty nine year old woman with reddish blonde hair in a smart, professional cap. The hair just reached her jawline and swept over from right to left. Her eyes were a cool green in color under two pinkish slashes, her nose was slim and her lips were plump.

"Kissable," she smiled, revealing straight white teeth.

"As much as they cost, they better absolutely be straight and white," she said, making sure her room key was in the rear pocket of the snug, revealing shorts.

Her chest was a 32C. Under the men's shirt and tank top, it was not apparent, but her areolae were rust red half-dollar coin sized and her nipples were thick.

Her belly was slightly concave; that surprised her. After years of travelling sales, diners and late night drinking, she still had a slim 28 inch waist. And, even after miles and miles of highways, her rear end was still nicely rounded, leading into muscled thighs and sleek calves.

"Thanks to that whatchamacallit home gym," she thought, leaving the room.

"And walking three to five miles a day, no doubt," she said as she mapped a walking circuit on her cell phone.

Her first appointment was with Garland's Dairy, scheduled for nine thirty the following morning. The second appointment, with Holmes Fabrications was set for one thirty the following afternoon.

After a brisk walk, she returned to her motel room, bathed in sweat. There was relatively little humidity so the heat was deceptive. She'd not even noticed how hot it was until she stepped into the lobby of the motel and the air conditioning struck her body. She returned the clerk's smile and friendly greeting as she marched to her room.

Stripping out of her now quite sweaty clothes, she took a shower, enjoying the needle spray. The water was very nearly scalding and she enjoyed letting the biting spray play over her sensitive nipples. She reached her hand down and teased her puffy inner lips, flicking her thumb against her nub. She kept herself on the edge for a few moments. Finally gritting her teeth, she plunged three fingers into her wet folds, bringing herself to climax.

Toweling herself off, she lay nude on the bed and grabbed the television remote control. Just like the Budget-Stay Motel in Sopopaya, New Mexico last week and the Home Comfort Inn in Dan's Hollow, Texas two days earlier, this motel room came with free pornography. She decided on 'Lesbian' and muted the television. With a sigh, she picked up her cell phone and sent her boss a text message, letting him know where she was and her itinerary for the following day. Then she called her husband, Robert O'Connor.

"Hi Sweetie; just getting up from a nap," she said cheerfully to her husband of ten years.

While Robert filled her ear with his usual blathering, Allison watched the television. She was disgusted when the television showed two African-American women teaming up against an emaciated looking blonde. While Robert talked about the BMW Dealership, Allison switched the feed to 'Shaving.'

"BMW," she said aloud, suddenly remembering seeing a Superior Motors dealership on her four point seven mile walk through the town.

"Yes, yes, we're pretty close to finalizing the deal," Robert agreed with determination. "With the repair bays, we'll be able to pick up BMW and Audi and..."

"See, Sweetheart?" Allison cooed even as she looked up the telephone number for the dealership. "I absolutely pay attention to you."

With declarations of undying love and fervent wishes to be home to their Aitchel, Ohio home, Allison ended the call. She watched one blonde shaving the crotch of another blonde. The shaving would have gone much quicker if the two did not stop every three point two seconds to kiss, using plenty of tongue. Allison smirked; the blonde that was being shaved had a very dark bush.

She lazily masturbated as she watched mechanical sexual activity. Tiring of the mindless imagery, she switched to local news. She considered this part of her homework; find out what the people of this area were concerned with and tailor their product to meet those concerns. That seemed to be a bust; the local news spoke more about Austin and Houston than they spoke of Oakleaf. The local weathergirl was quite nice to look at, though. She was a large breasted blonde with a sweet smile and soft Southern girl voice.

She woke up just as the local news was beginning again. She shut off the television and realized she was hungry. Sluggishly, she dressed, wondering where to eat. There was a truck stop diner right across the street but truck stop cuisine just did not appeal to her at this moment.

"Bull burger, Bullet burger," she murmured, remembering a little 'slice of life' story on the news; something about a couple holding their wedding reception at the local landmark; they'd gone there for their first date and three years later, when they'd graduated from high school, he had proposed marriage to her at the same table they'd sat at for that first date.

"And it's the best burger you'll ever have," the groom had declared, arm around the beautiful bride as they both smiled for the news camera.

"Absolutely," she smiled, feeling a little twinge in her pussy as her mind's eye focused on the visage of the adorable bride in her chintzy wedding gown.

The clerk at the counter gave simple directions to Bully Burgers and promised her she would not be disappointed. The local landmark had been in the same location for over sixty years, had been using the same cast iron grill for all that time. It was over sixty years of grease and sheer willpower holding the ramshackle joint from collapsing and it would probably be there for another sixty years to come.

Entering the building, Allison smelled years of grease, onions, pickles and ketchup. She saw years and years, generations of sweat and spilled drinks, couples falling in love, couples breaking up, couples reuniting everywhere she looked.

Right in front of her was a couple in their early twenties. He was tall and blond with a chiseled physique and muscular legs and taut backside. She was breathtaking from behind, a cute mop of short brown curls, snug tee shirt that did not meet the waistband of her denim cutoff shorts and a luscious ass peeking from the frayed hem of those shorts. Her pale legs were sleek and muscular leading into small feet.

"You want, you can go on ahead," the blond man smiled over his shoulder at Allison.

"Yes, we, we're still trying decide what we wanting," the brunette said, giving Allison a beautiful smile.

"That, that's okay," Allison smiled. "I, I'm not sure what I want either. I, I've never been here before."

"Oh!" the man said, reaching out his massive paw and pulling her to stand between them. "Well, let's see. You like spicy?"

"Sweetheart, not everyone likes heartburn," the brunette tittered an adorable laugh. "I bet she likes tangy."

"Tangy? Hmm, oh! Oh, then the Ranch is just the way to go," the blond man agreed and pointed to the large menu overhead. "Signature barbecue sauce, caramelized onions..."

"I like the Southwest but I don't know if that's what I'm getting tonight," the brunette confided to Allison, her arm looping easily around Allison's waist.

The brunette had deep brown eyes, a sweet smile and a button nose. The man was well-muscled with a short tousle of white blond hair, strong face with adorable dimple in his left cheek and a slightly large nose. Allison could not see his eyes, he wore mirrored sunglasses on his face.

"Eyes are extremely sensitive to light," he explained even though she had not asked. "Twenty five watt bulb is like a thousand suns burning into my eye balls.

"Oh," Allison nodded her head in understanding. "I absolutely understand."

In the end, Carl got the cannonball express and had them add a pineapple slice. Tina ordered her usual, the Soutwest. Allison decided she'd simply get the old-fashioned cheeseburger with American cheese, although the Ranch did look good. Over her objections, Carl paid for her meal.

Carl pulled her to join them and Tina happily pulled Allison to sit on the bench next to her. Allison was not sure if it was accidental, but Tina's hand rested on Allison's bare upper thigh more than a few times as they waited for Carl to return with their fountain drinks.

"They have ice cream here," Carl said, putting Allison's diet cola and Tina's root beer in front of them. "But Holland's has got hand cranked ice cream that I would walk a hundred miles to get a pint of."

"Oh! Oh it is the best," Tina enthused.

"Difference between powdered mix and fresh ingredients is the difference between store bought ti... Ah, ahem, I mean..." Carl started to say then faltered, a hot blush coloring his handsome face.

"The difference between store bought titties and the real thing," Tina finished Carl's statement, even thrusting her braless 34D breasts forward for emphasis.

Looking over, Allison did notice Tina's very snug tee shirt. She also noticed red lettering on the white tee shirt but could not see all of the writing.

"Sacred Ascension High School," Tina smiled, turning so that Allison could see more of the lettering. "Know what they call a virgin at Sacred Ascension?"

"I uh, no, no I don't," Allison smiled, staring at the obvious impressions of Tina's hard nipples and light brown areolae through the thin tee shirt.

"A visitor," Tina giggled her delightful little giggle.

"Oh thank goodness," Carl said when their ticket number was called.

"Aw!" Tina cooed, hand resting on Allison's thigh. "I think we're making him uncomfortable."

"Uh, yeah," Allison said, watching as the handsome young man walked toward their table.

Either he had a sock in his shorts, or Carl was packing a substantial pound of meat in his jock strap. And Tina's touches, Tina's breasts brushing against her upper arm, Tina's warm breath caressing Allison's skin had her on the verge of flooding her panties.

"Well? Well?" Tina demanded when Allison took a bite of her burger.

"That, is absolutely the best cheeseburger," Allison declared.

"Heaven? Heaven has one of these on every corner," Carl opined, taking huge bites out of his large hamburger.

"And a Holland's right across the street," Tina agreed.

"And a Scarlet Harlot right next door," Allison giggled.

"A what?" Tina asked, brown eyes crinkled in amusement.

"In Aitchel, there's this bar, the Scarlet Harlot; the owner's this red head bought the place after her divorce from her big-shot lawyer husband," Allison explained. "The big-shot lawyer was an absolute idiot; didn't get a pre-nup. So, when he found out his wife was doing everyone and their neighbor, he didn't realize the divorce would cost him half his bank account and all his dignity. But she named the bar after what he called her the night he tried to throw her out of his home."

"And what puts that into Heaven's league?" Carl asked, smiling an adorable, sexy smile.

"All the drinks are doubles," Allison explained. "And the waitresses are half naked."

"Ooh!" Tina nodded.

Stepping outside, Carl swaggered to a Harley-Davidson Road King. At the motorcycle, he softly kissed Tina on her lips. Allison watched as the two lovebirds whispered to one another. She smiled as Tina's eyes opened wide. Then, with an affectionate swat to her exposed rear end, Carl sent Tina scurrying to Allison's car.

"You, you're coming with us to Holland's, right?" Tina begged Allison.

"Absolutely, but I don't think we can all fit on that, that, oh I know they hate it when you call it a 'bike' but..." Allison smiled.

"He said you can follow him, but he has a real bad habit of going too fast," Tina said, opening the passenger door of Allison's car. "So, I'll come with you so you don't get lost. Okay?"

"And, I call it a bike," Tina giggled when Allison started the car. "Just to get him all worked up. He is so cute when he gets all worked up."

"So how long have the two of you been together?" Allison asked as Tina pointed where to turn.

"Not real long," Tina admitted. "We uh, well, I mean, we're not super-exclusive or nothing, you know?"

When they pulled up to the strip mall where the ice cream shop was located, Carl was waiting outside. There were seven people; Carl, four males ranging in ages thirteen to late fifties, and two teenaged girls that held hands. The mob was standing at the window, watching a buxom brunette as her hand cranked an ice cream maker. Her breasts bobbled freely inside of her Holland's Hand Cranked Ice Cream uniform blouse.

"Pervert," Tina accused, slapping Carl on his taut backside.

"Hmm? No, no, I was just waiting on y'all," Carl said, smiling easily. "I wasn't watching that babe's melons bobble and bounce, back and forth, back and forth. I hardly even noticed how her hard little bullets are just about shredding that shirt."

"Uh huh," Tina giggled, kissing him.

Inside, the trio ordered sundaes; hot fudge for him over chocolate ice cream, caramel over chocolate chip for Tina and hot fudge over vanilla bean for Allison. Again, Carl paid for the three of them.

Sitting at a small table, their legs touched. None of the three moved their legs away from the others. Tina continued to touch Allison's thighs and smiled happily when Allison returned the touches.

"I uh," Allison said, then glanced around at the other tables to verify that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. "I have room one fourteen at the Home Comfort Inn right down the street."

"Oh?" Tina asked, dragging her painted fingernails along Allison's thigh, coming close to Allison's crotch.

"So, uh, maybe you'd..." Allison began.

"I, my Carl needs to, I'm not doing anything without my Carl," Tina whispered, leaning forward so that their faces were almost touching.

"Oh, absolutely," Allison agreed, giving Carl a teasing smile.

"You want to?" Tina asked Carl, a cute little blush on her pretty face.

"Hmm. Be with not one but two gorgeous babes?" Carl asked, pretending to muse over this quandary.

"Well if you don't want to..." Tina giggled happily.

Again, Tina rode with Allison. Their talk from Bully Burgers to Holland's had been light, friendly; mostly Tina giving directions. From Holland's to the Home Comfort Inn, their talk was sporadic. It seemed that both women were afraid, if they said too much, they might ruin the mood or frighten the other off.

"And, he's already here," Tina giggled, pointing to Carl's motorcycle in the parking lot.

Carl made both women laugh when they entered the hallway. He was seated on the floor, leaning against the door to Room 114, pretending to be sound asleep.

"Hmm? Huh? I, oh, oh, took y'all long enough," Carl smirked when Tina nudged him with her meticulously painted big toe.

"Unlike some people, we drove the speed limit," Allison smiled as she unlocked the door.

"What? Woman! You're in Texas! No one drives the speed limit," Carl insisted, letting the two women enter the room ahead of him.

With a searing kiss to Allison's lips, Tina immediately peeled her tee shirt up and off. Delivering another searing kiss, this one with plenty of tongue, Tina then slipped her flip flops from her feet, stuffing them under the bed.

"Ooh!" Carl sighed in approval as he watched Tina's movements.

Allison looked over and did a classic double-take. Carl was nude, displaying a massive chest, powerful arms, and slim waist. The hair on his head and the scruff of hair at his crotch were light blond. And dangling down over his heavy ball sac was an impressive log. His thighs were muscular as well, with only a light patina of blond hairs. His left leg had a distortive scar; his shorts had covered that scar.

Allison hurried out of her blouse, bra and shorts while Tina dropped her denim shorts to the floor, displaying a beautifully bald pubic mound. Turning and displaying a perfect ass, Tina crawled onto the bed, turned and flopped onto her back.

"Come and get it," Tina cooed, arms and legs spread wide.

"Ladies first," Carl smirked.

"Oh absolutely!" Allison agreed, scampering onto the bed.

The two women kissed passionately, their hands roaming over one another as they kissed. Rolling them to the side, Tina bent her head and captured one of Allison's nipples in her warm mouth. Allison groaned as Tina lightly nibbled on her flesh.

When Tina released the nipple, she again kissed Allison's groaning mouth. Allison then bent and suckled on Tina's left, then right nipple. She then forced Tina onto her back once more and wiggled down to kiss her way from throat to crotch.

"Oooohh!" Tina moaned as Allison blew her warm breath over Tina's bald mound.

The scent wafting from Tina's splayed inner lips was bewitching. Allison used her thumbs to open the brunette beauty's inner folds and dragged her tongue from bottom to top. Tina's clitoris peek out from Tina's slit and Allison captured the fat nub in her mouth.

Allison then grunted as she felt the fat head of Carl's cock pressing against her own wet folds. For a split second, she resented his presence; she was making love with this delightful brunette. Then she remembered; Tina had been emphatic; she would do nothing without her Carl's involvement.

"mm," she murmured as the fat knob pressed into her.

"Mmph!" she grunted as more and more of Carl's cock slid into her.

"Mmng! Mmng! God damn, just how big is that thing?" she asked, pulling her head from Tina's fragrant crotch to look over her shoulder at the smiling Carl.

"Twenty four point five centimeters," Carl smiled widely as he gave Allison's pussy a few short jabs.

"Nine augh, nine and three quarters of an inch," Tina clarified, gently pushing Allison's head back toward her crotch.

"Good God!" Allison thought as his cock bumped painfully against the mouth of her cervix.

She moaned out loud as Carl began to fuck her with long, measured strokes. She gasped, shuddered, then moaned out loud as Carl threw a few short jabs into the mix, then once more resumed the long strokes into her pussy. She grunted as he took his hands from her hips and grasped her swaying breasts.

Concentrating on the delicious little brunette, Allison lapped at Tina's nectar. She thrust two fingers into Tina's sex, searching for Tina's G-spot. She batted Tina's fat clitoris while massaging Tina's G-spot. When she could sense Tina was edging closer and closer to the precipice, Allison gave Tina's clitoris a forceful suck.

"MMNG, I, oh God, God damn yes!" she suddenly cried out from her own orgasm.

"Yyyeeesss!" Tina shrieked, bathing Alison's face with her ejaculate.

"Mmng, I oh God," Allison shuddered as Carl's fat cock hammered into her, bringing on another punishing climax.

"Baby come?" Tina asked Carl as he slowed his thrusts into the limp Allison.

"No, no, Baby's ready for more," Carl admitted, pulling his cock from Allison's splayed pussy.

"Want Tina's sweet little mouth?" Tina cooed, wiggling out from underneath Allison's head and torso. "Or..."

"Or?" Carl asked as Tina sucked noisily on Carl's mushroom shaped head.

"Want Tina's sweet little ass?" Tina offered.

"Oh! Oh, that ass. I, I got to have that ass," Carl wheedled.

"Okay, Tina likes getting plowed up the ass by that beautiful cock," Tina cooed.

Allison revived somewhat and rolled onto her elbows to watch as Tina assumed the position on shoulders and knees. Apparently they'd done this before; Carl located a tube of lubricant in Tina's ridiculously small handbag.

"Mmng, that, augh, oh yes," Tina warbled as Carl fucked two, then three thick fingers into Tina's tight, squirming anus.

"You, you really going..." Alison goggled at Tina's enthusiasm

"I, I love, I guess I'm just one of those girls," Tina grunted, releasing her left buttock and reaching over to play with Allison's breasts.

"There is no way!" Allison said, now looking at Carl's quite impressive cock.

"Come on, let me eat you," Tina ordered, slapping the mattress in front of her.

"Absolutely," Allison wiggled to lay in front of the kneeling Tina.

Tina smiled up at Allison, then placed her mouth on Allison's pinkish scruff of pubic hair. Her tongue flickered along Allison's puffy inner lips, seeking Allison's nub of pleasure.

"Mmng!" Tina suddenly groaned and Allison looked over Tina's cap of brown curls to see Carl pushing his thick member into Tina's upturned buttocks.

"Oh, oh Tina's ass is so nice, so nice," Carl groaned.

Allison tensed as Tina's hot mouth found her clitoris. She grunted as Tina thrust two fingers into her wet folds, seeking Allison's G-spot.

"Oh, oh Baby, Baby's going kill Tina," Tina moaned shuddering.

Carl's response was unintelligible and Tina resumed orally pleasuring Allison. Her tongue flickered rapidly over Allison's puffy lips as her fingers plumbed Allison's depths.

"I, oh, oh, that, that's it," Allison groaned loudly as Tina massaged her G-spot.

"Yyyeeesss!" Tina suddenly shrieked.

After she ceased shaking from her climax, Tina once more labored to pleasure Allison. While Tina's mouth and fingers were busy at her crotch, Allison was pinching and tugging her hard nipples.

"Love, love, love Tina's ass," Carl chanted, pulling his fat member from Tina's snug bowels then pushing forward again.

"Mm hmm," Tina agreed, sucking forcefully on Allison's clitoris.

"Oh, oh, damn, oh damn!" Carl began grunting as his thrusts picked up speed.

"Aaieegh!" Allison suddenly shrieked.

"Yyyeeesss! Yyyeeesss! I oh God yes, yes, JESUS!" Tina screamed.

"Fuck!" Carl bellowed.

After a long, shuddering moment, Carl pulled his wilting cock from Tina's backdoor. Tina smiled weakly at Allison as Carl left the bedroom. Stretching slightly, Tina reached her face up and softly kissed Allison.

"Had a boyfriend in high school; my sister Melissa had gotten knocked up and oh my God! My parents were such assholes about it," Tina whispered. "Wasn't no way I was going let that shit happen to me. So my boyfriend and I, we were doing oral sex; God! Boy could not eat pussy to save his life!"

"Show me a man that can," Allison agreed end the two women giggled together.

"Anyway, one night, he grabbed my butt; he was always grabbing my butt. But this time? His fingers kind of rubbed my, my butt hole? And it was like this electric shock just went through me," Tina continued her tale of her awakening to the pleasures of anal sex.

Somehow, she managed to talk her boyfriend into rimming, then fingering her anus. Both she and Allison giggled when Tina confessed that her boyfriend finally managed to give her an orgasm. Then, when they'd progressed from that to actual penetration, Tina did knew she would forever be an anal slut.

"Oh God! Don't! I absolutely hate that word," Allison complained.

"What? Why? It's what I am," Tina shrugged.

Allison was eager to list the shortcomings of Robert O'Connor. His skills in the bedroom were severely lacking, as was his ability to take instruction. He was more devoted to his bank balance than to her, his wife. His children from his first and second marriages also came second, sometimes third to his profit margins.

Allison also admitted that she was younger than his two children from his first marriage and was the same age as his daughter from his second marriage. Even though he kept insisting they have children, Allison was not willing to have any children. Especially to a miserly narcissistic like Robert O'Connor.

"Wait, if your husband is so rich, then why do you work?" Tina asked.

"Anyone that marries a rich man for his money is a fool," Allison disclosed. "That woman will absolutely live in poverty. I work because I would starve to death if I didn't."

"I'm going get a soda water; y'all want anything?" Carl said, entering the bedroom fully dressed.

"No, no; you put the fan on in there?" Tina asked, scrambling out of the bed.

"Yeah," Carl agreed, giving Tina's backside a playful swat as she caromed past him.

"Mm, let's see; just a diet Coke," Allison decided, remembering she still had more than half of a fifth of Iron Barrel Chocolate Whiskey in her suitcase.

"Gotcha," Carl agreed, turning and leaving the motel room.

A moment later, there was a firm knock at the motel door. Allison began to rise just as Tina opened the door of the bathroom.

"Figures he would lock himself out; the good," Tina giggled, opening the motel room door.

Allison heard Tina gasp so rose from the bed to see what the matter might be. A man in a pair of jeans and nice pull over shirt was standing in the doorway. His eyes flickered past the beautiful nude Tina to the equally beautiful and nude Allison.

"You. You Allison O'Connor?" the man said, holding out a can of Diet Coke.

"I uh, yeah, I..." Allison stammered, trying to cover her nudity with her hands. "What? What are you..."

"Here, try this," the man said, handing the can of soda to Tina, then thrusting a large manila envelope to Allison.

"Thanks," Allison stammered, grabbing the envelope from his hand and covering her breasts with it while cupping her free hand over her pink sprigs of pubic hair. "But what are you..."

"And, Allison O'Connor, you've been served," the man said, snapping a quick cell phone picture of Allison with the envelope in hand.

"You ladies have a nice night, hear?" the man said and left the room.

Allison staggered, staring at the manila envelope with dread. Stumbling over to the bed, she sat and slowly worked on the metal clasp that held the envelope shut.

"Oh! Oh no, no, no!" Allison moaned as she saw the contents of the envelope.

Robert Sinclair O'Connor was suing her for divorce. Per the pre-nuptial agreement they had both signed, he was enforcing the Adultery clause. In her fogged state, she did not hear the powerful motorcycle rumble past the building.

"Oh!" Allison moaned, her entire life crumbling before her very eyes.

Her cell phone buzzed from her purse. Woodenly, she wobbled to where her purse sat and fished her cell phone out.

'Now you don't have to worry about how pitiful I am in bed' Robert had sent.

"How? How in the hell, how in the God Damned Hell did he..." Allison thundered, now filled with a white-hot rage.

Looking around, Allison now noticed that Tina was no longer in the motel room. The light was on in the bathroom, but Tina was not in the small room. Her tee shirt and shorts were no longer crumpled on the floor.

She grabbed the can of Diet Coke and, using one of the plastic wrapped plastic cups that had sat on the small vanity, Allison O'Connor fixed herself a strong drink. Shuddering her way through that drink, she fixed a second drink, bound and determined to get good and drunk.

"And. That. Solves. Nothing," she spat, guzzling the second drink. "That solves nothing at all."

Putting the cap back onto the bottle of Iron Barrel Chocolate Whiskey, Allison put the bottle back into the suitcase. She then performed her nightly ritual, readying herself for bed; another night in a motel bed.

In the morning, she meticulously applied her makeup, smiling tightly. Robert used to call it her 'war paint' and today, it was appropriate. She was indeed going to war.

Garland Skelton of Garland's Dairy listened as Allison outlined the service of the company she worked for and agreed he was interested. Between Garland's Dairy and Superior Motors, Allison recorded into her cell phone a list of nine other places she wanted to visit. At Superior Motors, Andy Delacroix, the very handsome owner was certainly interested in her services and agreed to look over the material.

"I am sorry; I'd love to sit and chat with you about all we could do for you, but I have a one thirty appointment in Lowridge," Allison said, scampering to the door.

After a successful meeting with Holmes Fabricating, Allison checked into the Budget-Stay Motel in Lowridge, Texas. From there, she did something she hated to do; she did some cold-calling. This netted her two signed contracts and once in her motel room, she sent the four contracts to the home office. She nodded with satisfaction as she showered that day's sweat from her body, then pulled out her last clean pair of jeans and a snap button blouse.

In the small foyer of a local Mexican restaurant, she struck up a conversation with a cute Latina girl. Rosie was very enthusiastic about the food; she loved, loved, loved their Carnita platter.

"Is that what you're getting," Allison smiled at the eighteen year old beauty's enthusiasm.

"No, no, I only have enough for a few tostadas," she admitted.

"Ma'am? Ma'am?" Allison said to the harried hostess.

"It will be just a couple more minutes," the girl assured Allison.

"No, no, could you please change my seating to two people?" Allison asked, not meeting the hostess's ire with her own irritation.

"Hmm? Oh, oh yes ma'am," the girl brightened.

When some people traipsed through the foyer, chattering in Spanglish, the hostess called out 'O'Connor' and Allison grabbed Rosie's hand and they followed the hostess's pronounced buttocks to a small table.

Allison ordered a margarita and Rosie ordered a Coke. When the waitress returned with their drinks, Allison ordered two Carnita platters, waving away Rosie's objections.

Rosie shyly confessed she'd never been with another woman. Allison squealed happily and assured Rosie she would love, absolutely love the experience. In the motel room, Allison was gentle with the nervous girl. Soft kisses followed each touch. Often, Allison assured Rosie she was absolutely beautiful.

The girl had a strong, musky essence and was very receptive to Allison's touches and licks. When Allison sucked on the girl's clitoris while massaging her G-spot, Rosie squirted forcefully, drenching Allison's face. With a shriek, Rosie fainted, sprawled on Allison's bed.

"Huh?" Rosie asked, mystified when Allison gently sponged her face.

With several soft kisses and gentle caresses, Allison and Rosie traded positions on the sweaty bed. Rosie was an enthusiastic pupil and soon brought Allison to a grunting, shuddering orgasm of her own.

In the morning, Allison pulled on her last clean business outfit. She was grateful she'd begun the habit of packing one or two more outfits than she would need. After receiving Robert's petition for the dissolution of their marriage, Allison would absolutely need every single fucking sale she could make.

Now dressed and ready for war, Allison roused the disheveled, lethargic Rosie. With a soft kiss and a not so soft shove to the girl's delectable backside, Allison ushered the girl out of the room. Then, with an absent wave to the bewildered girl, Allison drove away.

Cannon Strong, Private Investigator. Case #13

No, my mother didn't name me Cannon Strong. Personally, I think the old bat hated me. She named me Percival Buford Lindel. Even shortening it to 'Percy' did not lessen the ass whippings I got on the school's playground. And, it did not help that I was a blond haired, green eyed cutie.

I do not know who my old man is. Mom says she don't know neither and I'm inclined to believe her.

Since her teens, Sylvia Lindell has had nothing but quick backseat romances punctuated with the occasional two day to four month relationships. The longest I ever remember us staying in one place was Oscar; we stayed with him for seven months. We called him 'Oscar the Grouch' even though he was actually a very nice guy. But, a quick deal that would have made him a bunch of dough bought him a.38 slug to the head and he died three days later, handcuffed to a hospital bed.

I took after my mother in the looks department, that's for sure. Bigger boys don't like it when their girlfriends, or girls they wished were their girlfriends fawned all over me. And, I knew, from watching my mom as she picked up man after man, a shy smile, a head duck and a sidelong glance was much more effective than boasting, bragging, chest thumping and demanding attention.

I also figured out, reading, writing, arithmetic were essential unless I wanted to live forever in shitty roach infested apartments and rusted out old trailers. My mother was a bar whore, so by age five I knew how to make my own breakfast, pick out my own clothes and dress myself, get myself up and ready for the bus that would take me to school.

Dawn Porter thought I was just the cutest, sweetest boy she'd ever seen. And, with her long red hair and big brown eyes, Dawn was as cute as any old yucky seven year old girl could be. Reggie Banks also thought that even if she did have cooties that Dawn was beautiful.

So, when Dawn kissed me during our recess period, Reggie took offence to that and decided he'd teach me what's what.

Man, but that first punch to that big second grader's nose felt sweet. So did that second punch to the now crying boy's tummy?

The principal decided that a detention was impractical; we had no telephone number for him to reach my mother. And in truth, I did not know our address; we'd just moved again, skipping out on three months of back rent owed to the fat slob landlord. So, for the rest of the week, I would have to spend recess in the boring old library.

Punishment? This was no punishment; this was nirvana! In an old, crumbling book, I read about isometrics. Hell, I couldn't even pronounce the word but I grasped onto the idea of using muscle groups against one another in the effort to build up muscle mass, strength, endurance. I knew Reggie and his type; before long, he could convince himself he would best me in another altercation. Or, like Kenny Schroeder, he would try to be sneaky. Either way, I wanted to be ready.

And he did not disappoint. He approached me, his friends crowding around as we stood on the playground. He was still running his mouth when I slugged him in the mouth. To be fair, that tooth was most likely already loose. And Dawn and her best friend Shelley spent every day in the library with me.

I continued with Isometric training. I also read books on dietary information and figured out that Pop-Tarts, although an easy breakfast for a five year old boy to make, was not conducive to building strong bones and strong muscles. So, I found a book on easy recipes for kids, then begged Curtis, the old man we were living with to buy a few of the groceries on my scrawled out shopping list.

Since the total bill came up to about thirty dollars, he demanded a thirty dollar face fuck from my mother. Since it was a thirty dollar blow job, she agreed to take her teeth out for it.

Yeah, by this time, age and late night hard drinking whoring around was really starting to catch up with my Mom. Let me tell you, it was a sad day, a sad day indeed when Sylvia the Whore figured out that no one wanted to pay to fuck her anymore. And, to her utter demoralization, she had to apply for government assistance.

I was twelve years old by the time Sylvia's gravy train screeched to a halt far from any station and thanks to adherence to my exercise routine and eating right whenever we could afford to eat right, I was rarely the target of bullying. I was also maintaining excellent grades in school and had skipped ahead to the eighth grade.

One class I hated was Physical Education. The reason I hated it was simple; my tennis shoes didn't fit. By the eighth grade I was wearing a size nine and a half shoe. My tennis shoes were an eight. I nearly had to fold my foot in half to stuff them into the damned things.

Plus, I hated running around, getting all sweaty. Since it was fifth period, I couldn't skip showering or I'd walk around for the next three periods stinking up the place. But it was because of those showers I got the nickname of 'Cannon.'

Jay Farbacher was an asshole. Jimmy Farbacher, his older brother was an even bigger asshole. Deanna Farbacher, Jay's twin sister was the biggest asshole of them all, though. Anyway, we're showering and Jay looks over and stares at my pole for a long minute. Then he elbows Kevin Driscoll and points at my rod.

"Mother fucker's got a cannon there," Jay said loudly.

"Yeah? What the fuck you doing looking anyway? Huh Jay? Like looking at schlongs?" I challenged. "Maybe you want to kiss my schlong? That it, you want to num-num my whang?"

Jay charged me. One punch laid him out. I knew that would not be the end of it, though. Jimmy would have to step up and defend his pecker peeking brother. One on one, I knew Jimmy would go down just as easily as Jay. But Jay and Jimmy at the same time might be a bit of a challenge.

It wasn't as much of a challenge as I'd feared. Grabbing Jimmy's arm and slamming him face first into the locker cleaned his clock. And, once more, I taunted Jay about liking to look at other boys' dicks as I slammed my fist into his gut.

And despite what society might dictate, no matter what others might expect of boys, I was not afraid to slap the shit out of a girl. Boys shouldn't hit girls is bullshit if the bitch starts it, if the bitch puts her hands on the boy. Hell, most of the guys we lived with didn't even wait for my Mom to put her hands on them; most of the time just having a smart mouth was provocation enough for her to get slapped or punched or kicked.

Lisa Meyers must have shared this information with Deanna Farbacher; Deanna simply resorted to pounding my reputation. Silly bitch; calling me 'The Cannon' did not ruin my reputation among our peers. If anything, it elevated my status.

When I entered the twelfth grade, I was safe from the Farbachers. Jimmy had graduated, Jay had been expelled for drugs and Deanna was knocked up.

Coach Ferguson took a real shine to me; I was benching three hundred and fifty pounds and could squat two hundred and fifty pounds with no difficulty. He wanted me for his football team; on offense, I could block some of the big boys, keep our quarterback and our running back safe. On defense, he was sure I would strike fear into the heart of any quarterback.

But, the first time he screamed at me, declaring I was an idiot and the best part of me had run down my momma's leg, I walked off the field and did not return. For the rest of the season, I smirked at him whenever we lost a game. And believe me, I smirked a lot that season.

Upon graduating from high school, I worked a variety of minimum wage jobs, waiting to turn eighteen. On my eighteenth birthday, I signed up for the US Army.

I did not make it through boot camp; a drill sergeant took a real dislike to me and made it his mission in life to break me. Dumb ass. If Life itself had not managed to break me, what made this horse's ass think he could do it in a few short weeks?

When he took an unprovoked swing at me, I reacted. Those boots are perfect for knocking a man's nuts up into their throats. And, he found out he had a glass jaw. A few of my fellow soldiers backed me up; I had not started the altercation. That didn't matter; I was still on the next bus out of town.

All of this just added up to my life being a big pile of nothing. I mean, from Day One I was doomed to be nothing, do nothing, and amount to nothing. Sitting on a smelly old couch in my mother's Section 8 apartment, head pounding from some cheap ass whiskey and the piece of shit next door playing some music at ground-thumping volume, I was looking at my cell phone with one eye closed. The local newspaper had an on-line listing and I was looking for a job.

"Dancers?" I mused, looking at an advertisement seeking male dancers.

Percival, Percy, Buford; none of those names are going to make a fifty-something fat ass woman want to rip her panties off. More importantly, none of those names are going to make that same frumpy bitch rip open her tight purse and stuff a few twenties into my jock strap.

"So, hmm..." the effeminant manager of Lancelot's lisped, eyes fixed on the lump in my jeans.

"In high school, they called me the Cannon," I suggested.

"Oh!" he shivered with delight. "Oh! Oh! I have it! Rod Cannon!"

So I danced under that name for about a year. One night, overhearing some of the other dancers trying to help a new man come up with a good name, one of them said something about taking your first name from your favorite pet and your last name from the street you grew up on. Another dancer said, 'Then my name would be Cupcake Fifty Eighth' and everyone laughed.

We had never had any pets. A few of the guys that my mother hooked up with had owned dogs but I don't like dongs. Oscar Ward, 'Oscar the Grouch' had lived on Armstrong Boulevard.

"Cannon. Cannon Armstrong. Cannon Strong," I declared and that was my dancer's name, and in a few short weeks, it would be my name when I did some porno shoots for Falgout Film Studios.

Some guy had escorted his niece and her wedding party into Lancelot's. They were loud, rowdy, and very happy. After my set, Uncle Ronny approached me, business card in hand. I told him, just as I'd told the nine or ten other guys claiming to be movie producers, I'm not gay and I will not do gay porn. Ronny laughed and said he would guarantee, no gay porn.

Vixen Trueblue was a beautiful older woman. She had certainly maintained herself very well. She did not bother touching up the few strands of gray threaded through her blonde locks. Nor did she touch up the gray in her blonde muff. Her boobs sagged a little, but that was to be expected; they were not small breasts.

Before we even got the shooting script in our hands, though, Vixen Trueblue took me by the hand, pulled me to the break room and we sat down for some coffee. With a sassy smile, this older beauty confessed that she was a grandmother; even showed me pictures of a cute little blonde girl named Allure.

Then she asked me about me. The entire time I talked, her eyes studied my face. When I disclosed a painful truth, her eyes reflected pain. When I shared something humorous, her eyes twinkled, showing little crow's feet.

"Okay," she smiled when I reached the point of some man coming into Lancelot's and offering me a few bucks to come to Dolenz, Utah to shoot some porno. "Now that we're friends? Let's go have fun."

She stood, embraced me and kissed me. I've been kissed before. But her hug was a genuine hug, well, at least it felt genuine to me. And that kiss was one hungry kiss.

"Vixen strikes again," the assistant director declared when the director called out 'Cut!'

"Yes sir! Yes ma'am!" the two cameramen agreed, smiling widely.

After we dressed, Vixen smiled warmly at me and gave me another hug and kiss. She then shared with me that part of the secret of her cusses was that she always, always, always built a rapport with her co-stars.

"Empathize with them. When they're sad, you feel their sadness. When they're happy, well, smile. Allow your whole face to smile," Vixen told me. "And by the way? You are a phenomenal lover. Some of the little boys around here? Doesn't matter the size of their ahem manhood. Some of them just do not have a clue how to use what God gave them."

With another hug and kiss, she assured meI certainly knew how to use mine. She also said she hoped we'd do another shoot together. Very, very soon.

"Yes, Vixen strikes again," one of the cameramen smiled, patting me on my shoulder.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You just finished a shoot; you ejaculated three times," the man said, pointing to the tent in my khaki shorts. "And she got you hard as steel."

The next shoot had me with a pregnant girl and another guy. I took Vixen's lesson to heart and the three of us sat in the break room. She drank herbal tea because of her pregnancy; she said coffee gave her heartburn. I empathized; my mother's few attempts at cooking gave me horrible heartburn. That started a round of stories of horrible meals gone wrong. By the time the director yelled 'Action!' we were the best of buddies. And, yes, we all thought the director was a bit of a clown.

"The next time I get to do a Buddy-Buddy shoot," James Powers declared, eyes fixed on my cock, "I hope it's with you."

"He does a lot of gay stuff," the pregnant girl confided as she prepared to leave. "Why I was kind of surprised he was here."

Nineteen days after I moved to Dolenz, my next door neighbor set off a grease fire. The entire third floor, including my apartment were a complete loss. But the volunteer fire department really impressed me. They weren't getting paid penny one for this operation, yet they were professional, competent and dedicated to one another and to their community.

I joined the volunteer fire department. My first actual day on the job, we had a house fire. It was a case of arson; the ex-husband didn't like the fact that his ex-wife had a boyfriend and tried to kill them by pouring a nasty mixture of laundry detergent and gasoline all around their wooden home then setting it on fire.

In trying to rescue their pet Pomeranian, the shift supervisor was seriously injured. The damned dog kept running away from him even though he was trying to save it. The wife, wrapped in one of our blankets turned and looked at the group of onlookers and screamed, "That's him! That's Roscoe! He's one done this!"

A shifty eyed little weasel of a man took off running. Two policemen and I gave chase. Even loaded down with full gear, I was the one that managed to grab the little bastard. And when he pulled a lethal looking blade on me, I easily disarmed him. He was still screaming 'Police Brutality' when they put his ignorant ass in the cruiser. Both policemen laughed and told him it wasn't police brutality because I wasn't a policeman.

"Ever think about being a cop?" the sergeant asked after all the excitement had died down.

"Would I have to give up being a porn actor?" I asked.

At first he thought I was kidding. After he determined I was serious he said he'd have to ask his supervisor.

I did not have to stop being a porn star. I went to the police academy; had some flashbacks of my short stay in the US Army, and graduated. The first time I showed up to Falgout Film Studios in uniform, two women and one man proposed marriage.

Vixen's lessons continued to serve me well. In arrest after arrest, I was able to get the suspects to talk with me. Telling them about my shitty upbringing, reading some books on exercise, diet and applying what I'd learned had some of these hardnosed drug dealers telling me about lying in a crib for hours, diapers overflowing with shit. Had one kid bragging to me about throwing a punch at his father because the BMW he got for his sixteenth birthday was silver instead of black. His lawyer was highly pissed that his shit client freely admitted to running a meth ring and even gave us his list of contacts.

His father didn't have to worry about Junior throwing any more punches. Because of the punk giving us everything, we managed to arrest seventy four people over a five state area. One of the men we couldn't reach because he was in St. Genevieve arranged for Junior to have a little accident in the prison kitchen.

But my skills in interrogating suspects got me a little more attention than I would have liked. That same kingpin in St. Genevieve arranged for me to have an accident of my own. I will walk with a limp for the rest of my life. But Miguel Chernaud will never walk again, talk again, smile again. Of course if they ever drain Lake Sopopaya in New Mexico? I'll never be a free man again.

But that's what led to me becoming a private investigator. Insurance fraud, missing spouses, errant wives? Cannon Strong's your man.

My twelfth case was a worker' comp case; Cade black claimed he couldn't work because of a back injury. I sliced the tire of his piece of shit Dodge Ram then videoed him changing the tire. And, no, Dodge Ram is not a piece of shit; Cade Black's truck was a piece of shit. Oscar had a cousin that still owned his first car ever; a 1953 Cadillac. Benny swore he would be buried in that car. But he worked on that car all the time. It ran like a Timex because he took loving care of that car.

The manager of the insurance company happened to be best friends with Robert O'Connor. Over a few glasses of St. Elizabeth Superior Whiskey, Robert confessed to his friend that he was certain his wife was fucking around on him whenever she went out of town. Mr. Stockton slid my business card across the table to Robert and I got the call.

He gave me a picture of Allison O'Connor and I had to agree; she was a very attractive young woman. Her boss was only too happy to give Robert the itinerary for Allison, especially when Robert said he wanted to surprise Allison.

"Didn't say it would be a good surprise, now did I?" Robert smiled at me and I got the feeling I would not want to tangle with Mr. O'Connor.

He paid me for three days surveillance, promising a bonus should I deliver in a timely fashion. A few more questions and I thought I had a picture of Allison O'Connor's likes and weaknesses.

My leg was killing me by the time I rumbled into Oakleaf, Texas. I knew I would be spending the night with my leg wrapped in ice packs and would be chewing ibuprofen with whiskey chasers.

A search of the local college's on-line newspaper lead me to Tina. Her ad had all the codes that identified her as an escort; in short, she was a prostitute. After an exchange of text messages, after assuring one another that we weren't cops, she called and I told her what I needed.

She was excited about the prospect of playing 'PI' even though I assured her it was more like playing Scooby-Do. We arranged to meet at a safe place; she picked the Bully Burger place.

For a few moments, we stood outside in the Texas heat, establishing our cover story. She was still pretty excited about being a private investigator but promised she could keep it cool. She also liked pretending that we were together, a loving couple. Everything settled, we went in for some good old greasy burgers.

I was wearing my modified Stitt Shades. The lenses are mirrored, hiding my green eyes from view. The lenses themselves are actually brown so they don't hamper my ability to see. But the left mounting bracket that holds the temple piece or arm to the lens has a video camera in it. The camera feeds to the cloud. The right mounting bracket has a powerful microphone; it can pick up a bird's fart a mile away.

We were standing in line; Tina had just whispered to me that she was as bald as a billiard ball where it counts and I had let her know I appreciated a woman that took care of herself. I was trying to decide what I wanted to order when I turned around and was looking right at the target. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the key fob and turned the sunglasses on and began recording. For all I knew Allison O'Connor was there to meet her side piece. I wanted as much incriminating evidence as possible.

I pulled her forward to join us and Tina, bless that little whore, picked up on my vibe and immediately started seducing the target.

I'd done some homework and had looked up dessert places; Robert had let me know his wife had a sweet tooth and just could not say 'no' to ice cream. So, after we finished some truly fantastic greasy burgers, I invited Allison to join us at Holland's for genuine hand cranked ice cream. Tina skipped over to my Road King, excited about putting that cute ass on my saddle. As I kissed her, I whispered that, the woman we'd just had dinner with was the woman we were supposed to be tailing. I whispered to Tina to ride to Holland's with Allison, do her best to talk Allison into bed.

Hey, it's only entrapment if the police do it. If I could get video and/or audio of Allison getting cannoned by Cannon or tumbled by Tina? Well then. Hey, it's all in a day's work.

I used the blue tooth on my hog to contact Robert O'Connor. Pulling up to Holland's, I gave him the cloud access information, then ended our conversation.

Tina was good. Actually, Tina was great. By the time we all sat at a wobbly little table to enjoy some truly delicious ice cream, Allison was ready to face dive into Tina's box. Allison was the one to suggest that we take the evening to Room 114. I was more than ready and once again contacted the client on the way to the Home Comfort Inn. Again, Robert promised me a hefty bonus and I ended the connection as I pulled up to the Home Comfort Inn.

Tina's crotch was dripping; her denim cutoffs looked like she'd pissed herself. Allison's own nylon shorts looked pretty damp in the crotch also. My camera did pick up on the fact that the two women were holding hands as they approached where I was leaning against the door, pretending to be sleeping.

Women holding hands is not that big of a deal. But, their fingers were entwined as they walked. And, the looks they were giving to one another was very telling. I just hoped the video camera was good enough to pick up on that energy.

Tina's beauty was breathtaking. And, yes, that box did look mighty smooth. As I watched, video camera feeding to the cloud, Tina and Allison were all over each other. I undressed, my cock making it a little difficult to get my boxer briefs off.

Then, looking down at my protruding cock, I got onto the bed and glanced up at Allison's perfect ass. Personally, I wouldn't kick Allison O'Connor out of my life just because she liked getting a little pussy on the side. I mean, it's not like she's going to get pregnant from Tina's tongue, bring home a bun in the oven and try to pass it off as mine.

The camera showed me sliding my cock into her furry little beaver. Then, even better, the camera and the microphone picked up on her turning her head and asking me just how big my cock was. Her attorney would never be able to say it was not Allison O'Connor that I was fucking.

She was hot, wet, and oh so tight. I fucked her, every now and then looking down and enjoying the sight of my cock pounding that sweet little gash. The sounds were undeniable; Allison, Tina, and I were having fun. Just for the hell of it, every now and then, I would look at Tina's cute little face, Tina's nice titties; I decided Robert was paying for this, he might as well enjoy it.

After Allison had a few orgasms, after she satisfied Tina, I pulled my hard cock from Allison's pussy, Tina earned a bonus of her own. Because of the length and girth of my cock, I very rarely get to do anal sex outside of porno shoots. But she offered and I was not going to say 'no' to that hot ass.

I captured a little footage of our anal action, then captured a lot of Allison being pleasured by Tina's fingers and mouth. Again, I wouldn't toss Allison aside just because she was bisexual. Hell, she might be a full-blown dyke but as long as she was willing to let me fuck her, I would keep her. And, if she was willing to share her girlfriends... Well, then. But I am not Robert O'Connor.

After pumping a load into Tina's incredible ass, I carefully took the sunglasses off, put them on the dresser facing the bed and staggered into the bathroom. I pissed while letting the shower pummel my body. I soaped up, making extra sure to clean my soiled cock, then toweled off. I dressed, then pulled my sunglasses on my face again.

The process server was waiting for me in the hall. He laughed when I told him to wait a minute while I fetched a Diet Coke for the woman.

I stood in the hall, facing the door when Tina answered. What a whore; there's a strange man standing in front of her and she did not even bother trying to hide the goodies. Robert O'Connor did let me know that he did appreciate the sight of the beautiful Tina. He especially appreciated that I managed to video his nude wife being served his divorce papers.

When the door of Room 114 closed, the process server shook his head and admitted to me, he had enjoyed the little peep show. I hobbled to the door, my injured leg screaming the entire way from the motel room to the lobby. In the lobby, I debated whether or not I should rent a room for the night; my leg really hurt that bad. But, last thing I need is some pissed off sales woman backing her car over my hog.

And, by the time I managed to reach the ride, Tina was waiting for me. She gave me a happy smile and a hot kiss. Then she reminded me, I promised her a bonus. She put the helmet on her cute little head and straddled my ride like she belonged there.

The motel in Great Oak, Texas had definitely seen better days. By this time, I was ready to pass out and did not care what the motel looked like. I pulled the Road King into the room with us, grabbed the garbage bags from the bedroom and the bathroom and filled both with ice from the ice machine at the end of the hall.

"I was a nursing student before my Momma's cancer," Tina cooed and actually did a good job of getting my leg tended to.

Then she wrapped those pretty lips around my cock while fingering herself. It's not a reflection of her skills, but I was gone before Tina managed to get me all the way into her throat. The ice and the five ibuprofen, along with the hours of road travel were taking their toll and I was out for the count.

"You're not very good for a girl's ego," Tina pouted the next morning. "It's a good thing I like you."

"Yeah, sorry about that," I smiled.

A check of my bank account showed that Robert had sent in a twenty five hundred dollar bonus. I gave Tina one thousand of those dollars. That got me a nice kiss and those sweet titties jammed against me.

So, where you going now?" Tina asked, hands clasped behind her back, thrusting those cute titties right at me.

"Home, I guess," I shrugged. "Sit in my office, stare at the four walls until the next case comes up."

"Take me with you?" Tina begged. "I mean, since Momma's gone, ain't nothing keeping me here."

Shit. Worse things I could be saddled with than a bisexual anal slut, right?

The End

**Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

I thank you for reading my stories. I especially thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my works, those that 'Favorite' my words.

This is my entry for Literotica's Hammered Story Event 2025 Author Challenge as organized by ChloeTzang. Thank you to ChloeTzang for organizing this exciting event. Please be sure to read the other fine tales submitted for this Author challenge and take a moment to vote.

Robert O'Connor's daughter from his second marriage is Coleen O'Connor. Coleen is a minor character mentioned in 'Extraneous Deprivation' and her breakdown and therapy are mentioned in 'University Au Naturel Celebration' in the Erotic Coupling category.

Bully Burger is introduced in 'Under Tornado Warning' in the Loving Wives category. It does make sporadic appearances in other tales centered in the Oakleaf County.

Holland's Hand Cranked Ice Cream Shop is mentioned in 'Restaurant" Holland's' in the Loving Wives category. It too does make sporadic appearances in other stories centered in Oakleaf County, Texas.

Garland's Dairy, Allison's first appointment is the primary location of 'Elf Patty' in the Mature category.

Superior Motors, Allison's second sales call is introduced in 'Tequila Pt. 03' in the First Time category.

Homes Fabrication, Allison's third sales call is introduced in 'Declared Intent' in the Anal category.

The Falgout Film Studio is introduced in the 'In the Old Days of VCRs' series in the Incest/Taboo category.

Vixen Trueblue and her career as an adult film star are introduced in 'Cast Adrift' in the Incest/Taboo category.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.