She took him in both hands. She licked the head. She tried to get him into her mouth and barely managed the first few inches.
The hotel was a small chain hotel just outside the main city.
$name1 had the key in her pocket before she’d even got out of the taxi. She’d booked it that afternoon. One bag. The red fringe still damp from the drizzle. Size-eight body in a thin dress that didn’t hide how little there was of her. $name1 went up in the lift alone and left the door on the latch.
He arrived ten minutes later.
Taller than the frame. Dark-skinned. Broad through the chest and the arms. When he shut the door and pulled his belt, $name1 understood why she’d come. He was huge. Thick. Heavy. Already half-hard just from looking at $name1 on the edge of the bed. $name1 stared at it the way she always did when it was more than she expected, then she got off the mattress and onto her knees on the hotel carpet.
$name1 took him in both hands. $name1 licked the head. $name1 tried to get him into her mouth and barely managed the first few inches. $name1 gagged, pulled off, spit running down the shaft onto her fists, and went again. The fringe stuck to $name1’s forehead. $name1 looked up at him while she worked at it — wet, sloppy, nowhere near taking all of him — until her eyes watered and her jaw ached. He let $name1 try. Then he lifted $name1 by the arms and put her on her back on the white sheets.
$name1 opened her legs.
He lined up and pushed into $name1’s cunt slowly. $name1 was small and he was a lot. $name1’s mouth opened. $name1 felt every inch of the stretch as he fed it into her, pausing, then giving her more, until he was in her to the hilt and $name1’s skinny thighs were shaking around his hips. He started to fuck $name1 in deep missionary, long heavy strokes that shoved $name1 up the bed toward the headboard. The wet sound of him in her filled the little room. $name1 came on the third or fourth minute of it, clenching down on that thick cock, tiny tits barely moving, a broken sound she didn’t swallow. He fucked $name1 through it. He hooked $name1’s knees back toward her chest and went deeper. $name1 came again with her feet in the air and her hands on his shoulders.
He pulled out.
$name1 knew what was next. $name1 rolled onto her front, reached back, and spread her small pert arse for him. He spat, pressed that huge head against $name1’s hole, and pushed. $name1 buried her face in the hotel pillow and took it. Inch by thick inch until he was in $name1’s arse to the root. Then he fucked $name1 there — shorter, heavier strokes, one hand on the back of $name1’s neck, the other on $name1’s hip. $name1 pushed back onto him. $name1 came a third time with him in her arse and her own fingers on her clit, shaking on the mattress, the cheap headboard knocking the wall.
He pulled out of $name1’s arse, rolled $name1 onto her back again, shoved back into $name1’s cunt, and finished inside her in long pulses. A lot of it. $name1 felt it flood her. $name1 locked her skinny legs around him and held him there while he emptied.
He pulled out.
$name1 stayed on her back on the hotel sheets with her dress around her waist, thighs still open, his cum already running out of $name1 onto the white duvet in a thick line. $name1’s arse was still slack from him. $name1’s mouth was still wet. $name1 didn’t close her legs. $name1 looked at the ceiling tiles and let it drip.