She leans to the side, reaching for her bag and pulls one out. Thank God.
"A smart prison boy," she says. “Definitely not a boy scout. You’re not prepared.” God, she’s hot...although my judgment is probably clouded by the fact that I’m so horny right now.
It doesn't take long before I'm riding this chick like a man on a wild bull. Her screams are probably waking up every sleeping person in the motel, but it's getting the job done here. "Harder," she cries. "Fuck me harder, Raine." I open my eyes briefly, looking down at this stranger, and all I see is Haven. Why am I fucking seeing Haven? I pound the chick with every ounce of strength, feeling some of my anger seep out of my cock. She slaps me across the face, crying loudly…screaming, "Harder," even louder, as if I were torturing her.
I should be pissed that this woman just slapped me, but I fucking love it. I press into her so hard her head hits the headboard, and she fucking smiles. Her fingernails are puncturing the skin on my ass and her teeth are piercing the flesh around my ear. The increase of her animalistic growls and heavy breaths warn me she's close, and I'm glad for her, but I'm starting to lose my momentum.What the fuck?Her arms are locked around my back and she's shouting a string of obscenities into my ear as her body goes limp beneath mine. My cock follows suit. Awesome.
"Did you finish?" she asks, panting through each word.
I get up off the bed, mortified to answer truthfully and close myself into the bathroom. I let the water run as I tear the condom off and toss it into the trash, on top of at least five other used condoms. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That’s disgusting, but then again, what did I expect? This is a chick I just met in a bar, who was turned on by the idea of fucking a guy who just got out of prison. I look around the sink for a bar of soap, finding a sliver of a splintered white bar on a dish. I scrub my hands under the water and wash my face, keeping my eyes closed—refusing to look at the mirror. I haven't wanted to see my dirty reflection in seven years and I sure as hell don’t want to know what I look like right now.
Opening the bathroom door, I hit the light switch and cup my hand around my cock as I walk across the room to find my clothes. "You broken or something?" Crystal asks. I step into my boxers and pants, then quickly pull my shirt over my head while searching for my shoes. "Are you fucking mute too? Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"How many people have you fucked in this room?" I finally ask.
She takes the pillows from the bed and throws them at me one by one. "None of your fucking business. Now get the hell out of here, you prissy shithead." I get my shoes and bust out of the door before she can throw anything harder at me.
The second the door closes, I hear glass smash against a wall, and as the glass shatters, so do my chances of sleeping in a real bed tonight. Maybe the park bench isn't so bad after all.
