4 comments/ 18721 views/ 10 favorites Hotel Cafe By: GrenDrake 2008 Gren Drake The small cafe was situated just to the side of the hotel's lobby. The border between the two was lined with short potted trees, that created a division despite not blocking someone from seeing in or out. The cafe itself had only a dozen small round tables, each perhaps suitable for four, at least if one didn't mind being cramped, but with spaces between large enough that no customer would have to bump into another. Only one of the small tables was occupied; Angie sat with her back to one of the pillars that were scattered about the lobby. She stared despondently at the walls as she picked at the salad she had ordered. Along with the barely touched salad was a paper cup still full with coffee. It wasn't very hot anymore, but that hardly mattered; it wasn't like she had been drinking it. It was only her second day staying in the hotel and already it seemed as if she would go out of her mind. A paperback sat on the table, but at least so far the book was no better than staring at the walls. She needed a vacation. Not from her job (her employer was shut down for the season), but from her life. It had been too many years of the same thing; she needed something that would add spice. She sighed, then picked up the book once more. With luck, it would get better further on, but she held little hope of that. "Pardon," a voice said. The accent wasn't local, nor could she immediately place it. She looked up from the book, then nearly dropped it. The speaker was one of the sakin, a species of reptilian bipeds-sometimes referred to as lizards. He didn't look particularly lizard-like to Angie, though. Angie had seen sakin on occasion of television, or sometimes even in town at a distance, but she had never seen one up close. He had long ears on the back of his head, the tips of which seemed to twitch as she watched. His hands had small black claws that were obviously filed down. Despite having always heard that sakin smelt bad, the specimen before her didn't seem to have any noticeable odor. Angie guessed that the sakin was male; she knew of no real way to tell, but the series of red spots on his shoulders were present on males more than females. His chest was wrapped in a leather harness that concealed nothing. Several bags were hung from it, suggesting it was present more for its pragmatic value than anything. A tight cloth band was wrapped around the top of his stomach, and this had a few wide pockets in it as well. Most of the sakin on television either wore trousers specially designed to accommodate their thick tails or various styles of loincloths. The one in front of her wore something that looked like nothing so much as a leather skirt wrapped around his waist. She supposed it did accommodate his tail. He stood a couple of feet back from the table, holding a plate of chicken wings and a cup of steaming coffee. "Hello," she replied. "Would you mind if I joined you? There is no shortage of tables free, but some company would be nice." He was being a lot more polite than she had heard sakin were. Mind, from what the media said one was lead to expect callous lechers who would spit on politeness, so she had rather expected they were exaggerating. "Sure." The sakin set the plate and cup on the table. "I'm Nzin." "Angie." They shook hands and the sakin sat down. "Enjoying your book?" he gestured at the novel she set onto the table once more. "Not really. I haven't been able to get into it so far, but I keep hoping it'll get better." "I wouldn't count on it. I read it on the train last week." "The train? Were did you go?" The sakin barked (the word didn't really describe the sound, but Angie could think of nothing better) and his tail swished gently for a bit as he spoke. "Here! I come from the FASS." He picked up one of the wings, tossed it in his mouth and swallowed it whole. Angie could see the lump it made in his throat as it went down. "I should have guessed; it's not like there are a lot of your kind here." "I'm here for a month or so; my employer is considering opening a branch here." Angie wasn't really sure how to respond; she didn't want to be unfriendly, but she wasn't sure having large numbers of sakin move into the area was a good idea either. "Good luck," she said finally. "You don't have to work today?" It was a thursday, a bit past one in the afternoon. "I did," he said, and he swallowed another of the wings. "I'm on half days until I get used to the scheduling you use here. I'm finished for the day." "What's wrong with the schedule?" "You keep your waking hours bunched together; in the FASS one works twilight ris-, ah, morning and evening." "I can't imagine how you stand it. Having to go in to work more than once a day!" "So what are you doing here?" He tossed another wing into his mouth after he spoke. "My home's being fumigated. I'm stuck here for a week or so." She wasn't sure she should have told a strange sakin were she was living for the week, but she supposed she could always change hotels. "Fumigated? Ah... So you had an insect problem?" His tail swished gently a couple of times as he continued. "It is funny that both of us are staying in a tourist-place, but neither of us are on vacation. Have you finished your day already as well?" Angie tried to remember what she could about sakin body-language, but only drew a blank. "No," she said. "My employer is strictly seasonal. I'm off for a couple of months this time of year." She smiled at her table companion and watched him eat another of the wings. "Another new schedule," he said. "I had not heard of seasonal work. There is not much in the way of seasons in the FASS." "Must be nice having summer all the time. I hate winter, myself." The sakin nodded, and Angie noticed that the end of his ears drooped slightly and his tail stilled. "It is deadly," he said. "If my company does expand here, I would not be surprised if they hired your kind for at least part of the year. There is no point in killing employees to maintain a traditional schedule." "Its not that bad!" This wasn't the frozen north; many winters it didn't even snow. "You're human. My kind are cold-blooded; what is unpleasant for you is deadly for us." He glanced at his watch. "There's still a couple of hours or so. If you don't have anything planned, would you like a have a drink?" His ears perked up as he spoke, and one eye was focused on her. "It seems like it'd be a bit early; A couple hours until what?" "Until twilight fall-oh. Right. Sorry, I'm still not accustomed to the way you track time." His ears dropped slightly and his tail was tucked under his chair. "I really do need to get a local watch." Angie shrugged. It was rather early, but she had nothing else planned for the day. It'd certainly be better than the book she was reading. "Sure." His ears perked up and his tail started swishing continuously. "If you tell me what you want, I'll pick up both our drinks." "Some rye and cola if they've got it, thank you," she said. He stood and walked over to the mini-bar in the cafe. She watched his backside as he did, the swaying of his tail surprising appealing and almost hypnotic. She turned her eyes back to the table as he returned, not wanting it to look like she was staring at his crotch. She didn't want to seem sex-starved; indeed, the idea of having sex with this Nzin was vaguely (if nonspecifically) unpleasant. She wasn't one of the restrictionists to say such things should be limited to one's own species, the idea just seemed too strange. He set the drinks on the table as he sat down. He had a wineglass half-filled with a deep-red colored liquid. She sipped at her rye and nodded. "So what is that?" she asked. "This?" Nzin gestured at the wineglass. "Small-flower tea. Its made from the flower of a vine from Razaz Nudar." "Any good?" She asked. "I think so. Like many of the drinks my kind developed, though, most anyone else finds it rather strong." "Do you think I could try some?" she asked. "I doubt that it would be a very good idea, especially since you've already had some alcohol." "Really? Its that strong? Now you've made me curious." Nzin sighed, his ears drooping ever so slightly. "Fine. I'll get another glass and a bit of water; best not to try it straight until you know how you'll react to it." "Thanks," Angie said. She watched as he stood and waited until he was facing away from her. Then she touched her finger to the liquid in his cup-she wanted to try the real thing, not a diluted sample. Quickly, she stuck her finger into her mouth, tasting the drops that remained on it. She nearly gagged. Strong was not the word she would have chosen to describe it. Overwhelming would be closer. What little of the taste her tongue was able to taste was extremely bitter. She couldn't imagine how he could drink such a thing, let alone enjoy it. Then it was as though her mouth was on fire. She downed her cold, untouched coffee trying to cool the heat, but that served only to spread it down her throat. Nzin was returning, but he would not be back soon enough for her. Nothing would be soon enough; it was as though her throat was melting. Her breath was coming in sort gasps and she could feel sweat running down her brow and soaking her clothes. The moment Nzin had returned she downed the partial glass of water. She had trouble swallowing it with the way her throat was constricting. Nzin was a blue before her as it seemed the world was spinning. Then she collapsed, falling limply to the ground. --- Angie woke suddenly, coming to awareness immediately. She was laying on top of the bed in her hotel room. Memories of what she was doing there struggled to come to the surface, but no explanation was surfacing. Why would she have fallen asleep on top of her bed, still fully dressed? At least she'd taken her shoes off first. She opened her eyes. Through the window she could see the sky had turned a brilliant shade of red. Sunset then. She had been talking with a sakin. Nzin. They'd had a drink. Doubt hemmed in around her. Had he done something to her drink. She struggled to remember what had happened. It took a moment for her to reach a conclusion. He had done nothing. After he'd turned away she'd tried some of his own drink. It was after that she had collapsed. Sitting up, she looked around the hotel room. "You're awake," Nzin was sitting at a small table at the side of the room reading a book. For a moment she thought he'd gone through her things and taken one of her books, but then she realized it wasn't in english. It couldn't be one of hers, then. "I hope you'll forgive my intrusion," he said. "I wanted to be sure you'd be all right." "Sure you did." He shrugged. "I did tell you I didn't think it was a good idea." That was true, she thought. He had said that, hadn't he? "I have such a headache." He stood and walked over to the bed, seeming overly calm. Angie wished she knew how to read skin body language. "I am not surprised." He sat on the edge of the bed, his tail dangling limply off the side. "How do you feel? Are you hot? I can have room service bring up some ice. Any pain?" Angie groaned. "I'm a bit hot, but it's not too bad." She forced herself to smile. "The pain is in my head." His ears perked up a bit. "Good to hear. I was afraid you'd had enough to cause yourself some harm. How much did you have?" "Just a few drops. I just touched the surface and-- wait, cause myself harm? Just what is in that stuff?" "As I said before, its made from the flower of a vining plant. It comes from Razaz Nudar where it was originally used to purify water." "And you regularly drink it?" "Not regularly-it doesn't grow all that well this far north. Its too expensive to have constantly." Angie shook her head. "Strange." She tossed her legs over the side of the bed, keeping on hand on the end-table beside it to steady herself as she stood. "So," she said after a moment. "How did you find the room?" His ears perked up and his tail swished. "Your room key has the room number on it." "It does?" Angie started to reach into her pocket to look, but Nzin surprised her by handing her the key. "You had it?" "Actually, I'd put it on the table here." Angie glanced at the table; her purse and her book were also sitting on it. Looking back at the key, she could see that it did indeed have a little tag with her room number on it. "That's stupid. If I dropped this, whoever found it could come in and take whatever they like." Nzin took the key from her and pulled a large knife from behind him, deftly severing the tag from the key. The nice disappeared behind him once more. "Won't the hotel complain?" Nzin put an arm over her shoulder. "If they do, send them to me." His lips were parted slightly, revealing the numerous sharp teeth within. "I'm sure I can deal with them." "Good. Say, where'd you get the knife from?" "A little shop by were I live in the FASS, why?" Angie grinned, and she shook her head. "Actually, I was asking where you hid it." It wasn't like he had a lot of clothing to conceal it in. "Oh." Nzin stepped away from her, turning away from her. Then he took her hand in his and brought it to the band of fabric that encircled his stomach. Her fingers brushed against the fabric. It was incredibly smooth and she guessed it was made from silk. Beneath it, her fingers were able to trace the edges of the knife, but it had almost no visible impression. As her fingers ran down the side of the knife, she was surprised to reach the bottom of the silk band without reaching the edge of the knife. Amazingly, the knife itself seemed to blend into the texture of the sakin's body. Its hilt was the same pale yellow-green as his hide and even had the pebbly texture of his scales. "That's incredible," she said. She continued running her fingers along the hilt, and brushing against his hide. Nzin gently pulled her hands away, then pulled the knife out once more and tossed it onto the table. "The handle is tightly wrapped in sakin-hide. This provides not only the right texture, but often even nearly the right color." "Sakin-hide? You mean like this?" Angie touched Nzin's hide, running her fingers along its texture. "That seems so..." "Callous?" He shrugged and turned to face her, pulling her hands from his back once more. "If it makes you feel any better, the, ah, donor died of natural causes." "It still seems disrespectful." Nzin shrugged. "Its not like he'll be needing it. Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop rubbing there. Its rather erotic." "Erotic? There?" Her hands had been running along the base of his tail, just at the bottom of the small of his back, but she still pulled them away. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not built like you." His tail swished as he spoke. "Really?" Angie said in her best sarcastic voice. "Imagine that. Still, doesn't that make it rather awkward to wear pants?" "I don't wear pants." He gestured at the skirt; the band at the top ran ran quite low. "I have seen some sakin were pants." "I imagine one could get used to it." He shrugged. "I don't really care." Angie took a couple of steps away from the bed, surprising herself by how bad her sense of balance had become, and by home much her legs trembled. After only a couple of steps, she felt her knees give way. Then she was caught up in a pair of strong arms that kept her from falling to the ground. Nzin guided her back to the bed and lowered her onto it once more. He sat beside her on it and she leaned against him; he was short enough that her head rested mostly on the top of his head and his ear pressed against the side of her neck. She could feel the leathery texture of its interior as it brushed across her skin every time he moved. "How long is this going to last?" "Anywhere from a couple hours and up. The longest I can recall seeing myself was about a day and a half. Unless you have a weakened constitution its unlikely to be more than a quarter. Six hours." Angie laid back on the bed, pulling Nzin on top of her. "You aren't at all what I expected." "And what were you expecting?" He rolled off of her, instead laying on his side next to her. Angie threw her arm over him, running her fingers against his skull near the base of his ears. "The media seems intent on making your kind out to be lecherous bastards." "Its more profitable for them. You expect truth from them?" Nzin ran a hand through Angie's hair, then looked at the long hairs that had caught on his hand as she spoke. "Thats cynical." "Thats what a free press gets you." "But thats a basic right!" Angie propped herself up on her elbow and stared at Nzin. Nzin didn't seem disturbed. "None the less," he said. They gazed at each other for a few seconds, then Angie rolled onto her back and stared at the roof. Nzin put an arm across her breast. Although Nzin was nothing like how the media portrayed the sakin, she was not fond of everything about him. She sighed. He had opinions she didn't care for, but was much nicer to be around than her past few boyfriends, the last of which was doing twenty years in a state penitentiary. It would be a pleasant change to be around someone who was both armed and sane. She rolled to face Nzin once more, one arm around his back and pressing him against her. "Hold me," she whispered into his ear. He wrapped his arms around her. Her hands slipped down his back, one rubbing the base of his tail, the other undoing his skirt. She slipped this out from between them, tossing away from the bed where it fell lightly to the floor. "Are you sure about this?" Nzin asked. "Yes! I need someone I can trust, someone honest." As she spoke she undid and pulled off her own pants, then her panties, both of which joined Nzin's loincloth. She rolled Nzin onto his back; his ears flattened as the back of his head pressed into the pillow. She braced herself on one arm across his chest, the leather of his harness pressing into her arm. Her other hand quested down his belly, slipping between his legs. She froze. There was nothing there. His hide simply continued until it reached his tail. She sat straight up, looking down; sure enough, there was nothing visible there. "I thought you were male?" "I am." He said with a bark, his tail swishing between their legs. The hide between his legs parted and a shaft of smooth flesh slowly extended outwards. "Like I said before, I'm not built like your kind; my kind keeps such vulnerable things safely away when not in use." Angie run her hand down the length of smooth, tapering flesh. "It seems so... weird." "Not the sort of thing one wants to hear about their genitals." "It is!" she said defensively. "It looks nothing like a human's." "It works the same," he said. "Prove it." Nzin flipped her over, rolling on top of her. "I will." He thrust into her, his tapering member pushing her nether lips apart, his legs pusher hers own open. She stared up at him; his eyes were focused on her, his ears perked up so strongly it looked painful. And although she couldn't see it, she could feel his tail positively lashing between their legs. Hs hands were on either side of her, holding him up as he thrust slowly into her. Just as he'd said, his penis worked just as well as a human's. It didn't feel quite the same, but definitely worked just as well. As he repeatedly pressed himself into her, Angie reached up and pulled his head down to hers, kissing the end of his snout. Her hands wrapped around his ears, feeling the stiffness in them and massaging their base. The insides had a leathery texture totally different than his hide. Nzin balanced on one hand, the other running his short, blunt claws between her breasts and down her stomach, eliciting a shiver from her. When his hand reached the point of their physical union, it teased at her clit. He turned his head slightly, lightly licking her cheek and nibbling at her nose with his teeth. Hotel Cafe Her hand slipped over his back, pulling his shoulders down so his chest rested on her breast, then her fingers walked downwards, fiercely rubbing against the base of his tail. She moaned his he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot with her. "Told you it worked the same," he whispered, his maw next to her ear. She pulled one ear down, whispering into it. "Oh, yes." His ear provided little resistance, bending easily beneath her fingers, the end twitching as she held it. When she let go it sprung back into position. His hand that had been holding him up, now free of that task, slipped between them, gently raking her nipples with its claw. Angie's back arched as she pressed upwards, trying to push Nzin's member deeper into her. It had never felt this good before. Nzin's tail slipped under her as he thrust, pushing her downwards towards the bed. She could feel its bulge beneath her, pressing into her back. With a sudden movement, Angie caused them to roll over, her hips taking over the thrusting action. She kissed his snout once more, then pulled away from him, causing his penis to hang in the open air for a moment. Her natural lubricant dripped onto the bed as she slid down, then took her lover's shaft into her mouth, running her tongue along it, milking it. She could taste their mixed fluids on it, an acrid flavor that she ignored in her passion. Her hands massaged his thighs, one finger slipping into the opening from which his penis came. She could feel his body shake and tremble beneath her and, taking this as a sign of pleasure, slipped more fingers into this opening, massaging the inner folds that kept his penis safe and out of the way. Through this sensitive flesh she could feel his heartbeat; his veins close enough to the surface that the pulsing of his blood was strong, and rapid. "O! Kaevz!" Nzin cried, his back arching, pushing his crotch into Angie's face. She felt his penis throb against her lips and tongue, and against the fingers she had buried inside of him. Semen shot into her mouth and she swallowed, if not eagerly, than at least quickly. The taste was vile, but the passion more than made up for it. As he finished ejaculating, she sat up and looked down at him. He gave a couple more spurts, the semen landing on the bedspread. Nzin looked relaxed beneath her and, as she reached up, rubbing his checks, it seemed to her that his muscles had lost all the tension they'd held. His penis slowly retreated into his body once more. Nzin reached up, taking Angie's shoulders in his hands and pulled her down on top of him, her head next to his. For a moment she thought he wanted a second round, although his crotch was level with her naval with the difference in their heights. Once again they rolled over, leaving the sexual fluids behind. Nzin pulled his hips forward slowly, his tail dragging across her clit where his pebbly scales made her gasp as they brushed it. He sat on her chest, his legs spread on either side of her. Slowly he bent over, the end of his snout just over her face. His tongue snaked out, flicking across the tip of her nose. She could feel his breath blow over her face. The foul smell of it made her wince and he must have picked up on it as he turned and nuzzled her cheek instead. She gasped as she felt something brush against her thigh, moving across her skin erratically, but relentlessly towards her nether lips. It wasn't until this penetrated her, pushing her open, that she realized it was Nzin's tail. It pulled out and pushed in, mimicking the earlier actions of his penis. Its tip bounced inside of her, first pressing against one spot, than another. She moaned, arching her back, as the end of Nzin's tail found her g-spot. It then focused there, teasing it. Angie could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Her breath was coming in gasps as she panted. Then Nzin's ministrations came to fruit as she reached her climax, her body suffused with the sensations. Her back was arched and her body was clenching down on Nzin's tail. He remained still, doing nothing but watching her. "That was incredible," she said after several seconds had gone by. Her heart had calmed down, beating only slightly faster than normal, and her entire body was relaxed. "Absolutely wonderful." "Not bad," Nzin told her. His voice had a playful tone and his tail was swishing contentedly as he stretched out beside her. "Not bad? That's it?" "Not bad," he said again. "For a human." "For a human?" She smiled as she spoke. "Perhaps I need more practice?" She batted her eyelashes at him. "Practice is always good. So when shall we schedule it?" "How about after dinner? I can get room service to bring up something." Nzin made a show of looking at the clock next to the bed, exaggerating the gesture. "A late supper, I see. So, what shall it be?" Hotel California "On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair...." I looked out at the horizon to the far left. The sun had long left us and only the faintest hint of yellow still persisted in the sky. Through the tiny slit of window I'd left open a gentle breeze crossed through the car. The clock on my dashboard indicated that I'd been driving for nine hours straight. So great was my hurry to get to Sysha that I considered driving through the night. So I could make it to her before she was up. So I could fall asleep, tired, on her doorstep. So she could find me there when she headed out for work and know that I'd returned once and for all. Then she would know I'd given up every vice that possessed me before I left her, and that I'd done so in her name. "My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night...." I snapped out of it all of a sudden. Damn, I was drifting off at the wheel. It hit me then that if I went on any further I would probably never see Sysha again, or anything else. I decided it was time to stop for a while, despite my perceived urgency. "Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light..." A faint neon glow in the distance told me I wouldn't have to wait long to find a bed for the night. I drew to closer to find that I was right. The sign had the standard "Highway Motel" logo gleaming in yellow. Tacky beds and mothball perfume, I thought to myself, the perfect way to spend 50 bucks. I pulled in to their parking and got my first look at the place. It didn't look anything like your average highway bunk-a-night. The building looked pretty old, for one. Tasteful too, with a grand fascade and all. Fancy, in the middle of nowhere. They'd probably charge me a bomb but I figured Sysha would love me better if I didn't reek of mothballs. I went to the door and yanked the ancient knocker that seemed like the only way of announcing oneself here. "There she stood in the doorway, I heard the mission bell..." Soon enough, the door opened with a buzzing sound. Someone called out "Come on in" from within. I walked in with my bag hugging the door as it closed behind me. The lights inside were dim and it took me a bit to figure out what was what. In time, I realised that the place extended a little ahead and to my right. I went there and looked in, a little lost. There was a doorway beyond, lit by a faint glow. Blocking the light was a figure, it was a woman. She must have been the one who asked me in. Even inside the building, a gentle breeze toyed with everything. The woman seemed to have on a light gown which fluttered a little bit in the breeze. The light from behind her helped make the material of her clothing a little transparent. Just enough for me to see suggestive hints of her naked form. Just enough for my blood to rush that wee bit faster. She reminded me of all that I was leaving behind for Sysha and it only strengthened my resolve to get back to the woman I loved. "Then she lit up the candle, and she showed me the way...." With a greeting, she beckoned me to follow her. The route to my room was long and winding, with turns, staircases and corridors. All throughout she led the way and I followed. The route was interspersed with dark and light areas. In the fleeting areas of light I saw glimpses of her. She was wearing a gown so sheer that I could almost see right through it. This didn't seem to bother her as she strode along the endless corridors. I found myself waiting for the bits of the way that were lit so I could look at her again and again. She was tall, much taller than Sysha. Her hair was a soft red and it fell all about her shoulders. She was curved delectably and every movement she made was so subtle and graceful that it seemed to be screaming out to be touched. Her hips swayed when she walked and maybe it was my imagination, but they seemed to be in time with the gentle music that filled the place. When we still hadn't reached the room 5 minutes later and when my level of arousal was unnerving me somewhat, I asked her from behind, "Are all the rooms till here taken?" She stopped abruptly, so much so that I nearly ran into her. She turned around and said softly, "No, I've thought of a special one for you". With that she considered it settled and continued walking towards wherever she was taking me. We reached the "special room" soon after. She opened the door and gestured me in. "I was thinking to myself, this could be heaven or this could be hell...." The first thing I noticed about the room was its view. It looked straight out at the ocean and in the moonlight I could see the waves crashing into the rocks below. Wow, I thought, this room is special. Then I went closer to the window and noticed there was a pool right outside it, the kind that's large enough to relax in, but isn't really meant for swimming. She called out from behind in her silky voice, "We're celebrating tonight, so can I bring you some champagne?" "No, no thanks, I don't drink no-more. But what are you celebrating? And who's we? I haven't seen a soul except you..." "Well then, I'm celebrating and do I really need a reason. It's a fool who questions a celebration you know." "Well I'm good and I think I'll turn in now. Thanks and goodnight." She left without the slightest change in her expression. I let out a sigh of relief when she left. I don't know how much longer I could've controlled myself anyway. It was bitches like these that took me away from my Sysha in the first place. I switched off the lights and pulled the covers over myself, my thoughts full of the nearly naked form of the woman I'd just forced out of my room. Not long afterwards, I heard music floating in from outside. I got up and looked out the window. She was there again. Her body outlined against the night sky in all its splendour. Her slender waist, her sumptous bosom, her ample hips...it was all there. "Some dance to remember, some dance to forget...." She was dancing. She was dancing slowly to the music, her controlled motions revealing a burning desire that ached to break free. Her fingers cradled a narrow glass that contained the juice that was driving her motion, the champagne that she wanted to share with me. Her gown was gone and replaced by a tiny golden dress the kind you usually had to pay to watch women in. Her breasts seemed to be held in only by their nipples and her behind was etched so wonderfully against the material of her dress that even a saint would have plucked at it if he was close enough. She swayed like a wind, unplanned and unhurried. I knew she saw me and but she wasn't putting on a show for me. I'd seen this kind of thing before, when a woman wants to be completely fluid, completely free. When she doesn't care who or what takes advantage of her uninhibited state so long as she's allowed to flow just as she wants. "Welcome to the Hotel California, such a lovely place, such a lovely place...." Still swaying, her motions seemed to get more deliberate with each passing moment. She seemed to stop but she was still moving, she moved closer but was then further still. Gradually I found her coming closer to my open window, where I stood, feverishly controlling myself from running out and ravaging this beauty till the break of dawn. I caught a whiff of her perfume as she drew closer. Was it a perfume, or was it just her scent that filled my senses so completely. Whatever it was, I'd never felt anything like it before or since. She came up to my window and still dancing, she said to me, "Still sleepy honey?" Then she swung around without waiting for my answer and continued to dance, every bit of her body jiggling in flow with the music. Ahh, the force of my desire as I stared at her hips shaking sensually not meters from me. She moved, Oh she moved. If her hips weren't turning me on, her breasts were bouncing right out of her dress, and then right back in. I could take it any longer, I went out to be closer to this piece of heaven. "Still those voices are calling from far away, wake you up in the middle of the night, just to hear them say....." My demons were back, at least for now. I knew I would yearn for them forever if I didn't drown in them this one last night. I needed to get rid of my lust for sin so I would never feel it again in my life with Sysha. I went out, she knew I was weak now. She came closer only slowly. I waited for her. She came within inches of me, still dancing. In spite of my madness I held back. She swayed her hips not inches from my member gently coming closer and closer. Ages later, her hips brushed against my thigh. She rubbed up against me, that bitch in heat. With her ass she cajoled my penis into getting even harder than it already was. She turned around and I saw that her breasts had found their way out of the dress. And what a sight they were. Full and rounded, they wore a pinkish tinge. They bounced up and down as she spread her legs a little wider in lust. Her nipples stood out....large, stiff and rubbery. I could hold back no longer. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer roughly. She wasn't expecting me to be so forceful and when I pulled her closer and squeezed her ass tightly, she bit my ear in arousal. My hands moved upwards and took her dress with them. She seemed to like this and used her legs to encircle mine so that our crotches were pushed against each other and their warmth was combined as it yearned to be. She was still moving to the music as she unbuckled my pants and pulled me out from within. I became even rougher in my lust and tore her dress off her, to find that she wore nothing underneath. She put one hand under my shirt and rubbed my chest while the other seemed fixated at my member. I yanked her closer and put my lips to hers as I made a move for her boobs. Squeezing them hard I kissed her with an urgency I'd never felt before. Our tongues wrestled in excitement and I rubbed my swollen penis against her palm. "She said, we are all just prisoners here of our own device...." By now completely naked, we both knew that there was no stopping us now. Sorry Sysha, I thought, but this has to be done before we can start over. I put one hand below her navel and grabbed her snatch in a way that only prostitutes can allow. That's right, I was going to treat this woman as no more than a whore and I would satisfy my every kinky whim upon her tender flesh. I owed it to Sysha to not be gentle with this slut and I owed it to myself to satisfy everything I knew Sysha couldn't give me. I had to do this before I met her again. These thoughts running through my head I pushed the bitch on the nearest sun chair and climbed onto her, completely overpowering. I slapped her hard. In my state it seemed justified. Then I slapped her again, and again, and again all the way till there were tears in her eyes and screams upon her lips. All the same, I'm sure she enjoyed it. Then I pressed my hand tightly on her mouth and pierced her for the first time. I rubbed my naked penis into her, condom-less, and pushed hard the first time itself. She let out a scream that was of pain and delight at the same time. I felt it being stifled under my palm. Then I proceeded to fuck her so hard that even though she loved it thoroughly I'm sure she was afraid she might die under my brute force. A few minutes later she orgasmed like an eelfish. I kept my hand tightly on her mouth, I didn't want her to feel that she could simply have an orgasm and sit pretty. She wasn't done till I came all over her insides. She knew that I wasn't using any protection and realised that I was going to go all the way in her. She tried to throw me off but knew it was useless. I pushed into her harder and harder till finally I bucked hard and it all sprayed out, gushing out of me and into her. She moaned out and I finally let go of her mouth. She screamed out in sheer release. Good, now I've planted my seed in you, I thought. Serve you right for seducing a man in love. I continued to buck. Then I was done and I sighed and lay on her, completely spent. "Stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast...." I spent the next few hours satisfying all the filth in my head. I rammed her ass like a beast, I fucked her mouth the way a teenager fucks his palm, I spanked her so bad it must've been illegal. All in all, I did all that it took to convince me that I wouldn't see my demons anytime soon. I made sure that the bastard in me was satisfied and that he wouldn't come drooling when things resumed with Sysha. But even as I left her wasted and exhausted by that pool in the early hours of the morning, I knew one thing was true. That today I'd had no control over my lust and that no matter how hard I tried to tell myself that I was now satisfied for good, I never knew when it would take me over again. I could only hope.....hope was all I had. "Last thing I remember, I was running for the door. Trying to find the passage back to the place I was before...." Hotel California Hotel California was both an album and a song written by the Eagles, in 1977. This is considered to be a literal translation of the song, done as an erotic horror story. If you do not like horror, do not read; this is written in order to scare. This is also a bit longer than most of the stories I have submitted to date, but there is more sex in this as well. Enjoy. ***** It was late, almost getting to the point of being early, and I was absolutely exhausted. All I had to my name was the clothing in my boot, the .22 beneath my passenger seat and -of course- my car. Let me get you straight on this, my car is far, far dearer to me than any woman or child I have ever had. 1976 Chevrolet Impala, black. If I had to describe myself, I would say I looked unkempt at best; at worst, I looked like a thug. Anyway, my eyes had been getting dim around the edges for the last ten miles, and this was with the window down, letting the freezing desert air whip around my head, giving me an edge. It was fine; I didn't have any real reason to keep running. The sirens faded into the horizon well before midnight. I just kinda like- liked- running. I couldn't see much beyond the dull glare of my headlights, so it came as a surprise to me that I just happened across what counted for a town out here, in this little stretch of nowhere; a general shop, several houses, all bunched up together, an old mission church, complete with a bell tower, and a watering hole. Lucky for me- the mantra of my life- the store had a gas pump to one side. I parked next to it, and walked up to the door, and banged on it till I heard movement inside. I saw the barrel of the rifle just in time, and ducked down as it blew a hole in the door, spraying glass all over me. I jumped away to the right of the door, and waited. Sure enough, the idiot came out, to check on whether or not he should fetch his shovel. I slammed the door on him as he came through it, the blow crushing him against the frame, and grabbed at the part of the rifle on my side of the door. He was still panting, trying to catch his breath when he saw me. I watched as his pupils dilated, and saw the fear wear away at the corners of his mouth, the muscles playing along his jaw. He was fairly standard for hillbillyville- thick round the shoulder and the stomach, short and balding. He wore a stained singlet top, and these disgusting shorts. I could smell him from the other side of the door. I should probably explain something else as well. The description I gave of myself earlier doesn't really account for his reaction, does it? I'm the wrong side of six foot, and I never carried any fat on my frame whatsoever, I dunno why, and I tend towards the earthier side of life, which leads to my next point. I like a good fight- seem to find one almost every night- and this has given me a certain set of muscles which are intimidating enough by themselves but when coupled with my face... I've got high cheekbones, and a slightly too strong jaw for my face. My eyes are a little drawn back, but don't let that make you think this lessens the appearance of them. They are as pale a brown as you can get, almost looking golden. The best thing about this is that both men and girls fall over themselves trying to get away- or deeper, if I like the attention. But tonight the man looked into them, and saw nothing. I was cold, and he could see the murder in my eyes. I've got a few scars, most noticably the one that lines my throat- it's kinda obvious how I got it, so I'll just describe it. Jagged, it crosses from one side of my neck to the other, widening as it goes, crossing my adams apple on its way. It makes talking difficult- the original injury, that is, not the scar- but the end result was a voice like death. He let go of the gun, letting me have it as he backed away, and ran into the store. I followed him in. The store was small, packed as high as things could go onto shelves that hadn't been cleaned this side of 1950. I heard a sigh coming from behind the doorway that was on the other side of the counter, and I walked round to it and threw it open. There was a shriek as I revealed the bed and the woman who was obviously the idiot's wife saw me for the first time. I looked at her, searching for a light switch, but when I found it and turned back to the bed, I was confronted by the quaking barrel of yet another gun- this time, a shotgun. "You comin down here, scarin my husband!?" she said, her voice quaking. I looked at her as best I could, narrowing my stare. I saw the moment she noticed their color, and watched as her cheeks reddened. It was interesting, watching as the blood warmed up her face and trailed down between her breasts before pooling above them, bleaching the skin rose. The gun stopped shaking, but she was not going to shoot me now. I lifted my hands slowly, lazily, and flicked the barrel away, and she did nothing to really stop me. "I just want to get some gas, then I'd thought I'd leave. But," I said, making my tone as sorrowful as possible- difficult, as I said, because I sounded like Tom Waits after a set list- "but now you shot at me. Waved a gun in my face. I think I should bring the law down here, that's what I think." Her eyes widened. I could almost see the cogs clicking over. She forgot her shyness as she got on her knees on the bed, and took my hand. "Please don't do that! I'll- we'll- won't charge you for the gas!" I pretended to think about it, in the meantime checking her out kinda obviously. I'm sure you were already wondering about the husband, but I assumed he'd done a bunk, and was either lookin for help or had hidden somewhere. If it was the first, he would be more careful than me- if he was answering the door with a gunshot, than maybe his neighbours would too. Either way, I wasn't really worried. Back to more important matters. She was kinda hot, in a older milfy fashion. Curvy around the hips and stomach, and definitely around the breasts as well. I mean, those things threatened to burst out of the thin shift she wore, and it was obvious enough to me that there was nothing inhibiting beneath them to cause the boat to crash. Faded strawberry blonde hair, complemented by dark brown eyes, and frankly the nicest set of lips I had seen for a while. You know, the sort that you can't help but imagine wrapped around your cock? I let her notice my regard, then shook my head. "I wasn't plannin on paying anyway." I held her hand tighter, and with the other drew her in, closer. She didn't fight, her eyes wide with something emotional. She looked into my eyes, and flushed again, her mouth opening slightly as she wet her lips. I pulled against me, feeling her breasts flatten against my chest, running my hands across her shoulder blades, then down, grasping at the softness of her ass, pulling her hips towards me. She gasped as she felt my hardness through my jeans, and half-heartedly placed her palms against my chest, and lowered her eyes, breaking the spell. "I-I can't... My husband..." "He left you here. He doesn't care if I have my way with you- or if he does, he knows there isn't much he can do to stop me. Besides," I said as I pushed her backwards slowly, forcing her body down to the mattress, "I will get my satisfaction." I forced my mouth on hers, completely dominating the kiss and muting any response. I wish I could say she tasted sweet, but I'd be lying. Her hands couldn't decide what to do, and they alternately grasped me, pulling me harder into her, and tried to push me off her. Her mouth was open already when I kissed her, so it was no struggle to lengthen the embrace. Her movements became more relaxed, and I felt her tongue moving against mine. "Now, that's better, dear," I said, as I kissed the length of her jawline. I started just below her mouth, gently nibbling and scoring the surface. She gasped, and lifted her face, giving me greater access. I moved slowly, and as I reached her earlobe, my teeth closing on it, my hands roamed free below. I lifted her hips up off the bed, and pulled at her shift until it was above her waist. My kissing went lower, along her collarbone, and following the rose trails left by her growing heat. My right hand reached between her legs and cupped her sex. She was moist, even hot, and I ran my ring finger along her slit, toying with the bump near the top. I came back up to face her, and kissed her deeply as I freed my cock with my left hand and guided it towards her slit. Her eyes widened. "N-No, what a-aaAH!-bout a c-condom?" I used the head of my cock to slap her clitoris, the bump feeling incredible against me. "You don't want me to use a condom. You want me to put my cock in you, and to fuck you. If you get pregnant, that's your husband's fault, isn't it?" Her face colored again, and as she opened her mouth to protest I forced my mouth over hers. I moved my lips against hers hard, forcing pleasure from her, and I felt her hand between us, place me at her hole, and thrust down, onto me. I groaned, as I entered her. She was so wet and so hot that I couldn't help it. She raised herself, and pushed me in further, sighing while she did it. I could feel her sex quivering around me, her pleasure pulsing. I placed my weight on my elbows and knees, and thrust hard into her. She yelped, her body moving with my thrust, her mouth then clamping onto the fleshy part of my neck. Fuck you then. I took myself out and slammed straight back in, over and over. She gasped and moaned, her breasts unable to move because I had her so pinned. Her mouth left my neck, and I could feel it stinging where she had broken the skin. She started to moan, on and on and on, not stopping to breathe, a musical accompaniment to the sounds of my hips meeting hers. I could feel her pleasure building; her hands clung to my hips, her nails digging into the skin; her moans got higher and higher, her eyes screwed up, and her sex got tighter around me. I felt her seize shut around me, and I forced my hand beneath her chin, and made her meet my eyes as she came. Her moaning stopped, and her mouth stayed open. I love watching a girl come, I dunno why. There is simply nothing like seeing the sense of dislocation, of watching how she is both out of it and profoundly concentrating on something. Looking at her eyes, watching them burn as she came, nearly pushed me over the edge. But for me it was her expression that did it, the mixture of sheer delight and utter, utter shock, that made me lose my mind. I thrust even deeper into her, harder, her muscles still clamping down on me, making the experience perfect. But the real difference was the silence. She hadn't come down from her peak yet, and her expression hadn't changed. Suddenly, she became, impossibly, even tighter and, as hard as I was hammering down into her she thrust herself upwards, her body spasming. I felt wetness around my cock,along my thighs and stomach, then I realised what had just happened: the bitch had just squirted all over me. I erupted, driving myself over and over, the wave burning down through my stomach and up through my thighs. It massed hard along my groin, boiling out over my cock. I felt every single spurt, and I ground my orgasm out into her. Her eyes were still open, and she was whispering "oh god, oh god" over and over. Both of our lower halves were drenched. Damn; that was my last pair of clean jeans. Knew I should really have taken them off. I got up, and felt her shiver as I withdrew. I was still kinda hard, but I had to get out of this backwater soon, before husband comes back with a lynch mob. I did my pants up, and looked down at her. She was flushed, and she hadn't moved from the position I left her in, but her right hand crept between her legs, and she ran her fingers along her groin. I quickly found the switchboard and turned the pumps on. I filled up as quickly as I could, and got back into the cabin- after I grabbed some food from the shop. Man's gotta eat. As I drove off, I saw her in the revision mirror, standing, watching me as I left. ***** Another night, another dim stretch of road. Eyes really dim this time. Keep slipping off. Air's really cold tonight. Got bits of ice in it. Glad I took that bottle of whiskey, though. Helped dull the pain. Hang on. Huge building, tucked away into a neat corner, all lit up like a christmas tree without the sanctimoniousness. There was a girl outside. Pretty. Long, flowing hair. Black dress. Kinda looks like that classy chick from breakfast at tiffanys. I can't remember pulling over. I only remember her lighting a candle, and beckoning me inside. I could hear the wind whistling outside, carrying snatches of words I couldn't understand. I remember the blackness of the room, and the softness of the bed, as I slowly sank down into it. I don't remember getting undressed, but I woke up naked so I must have. I'm not sure of this, but I can still see it even now; her face, at the end of the bed. Her bending over, taking my limp cock between her perfect lips, just as I sank into unconsciousness. ***** I woke up to a splitting headache, as sunlight streamed through a freshly open curtains. I groaned, as my head pulsed. "Good maw-ning sah! It a luvely day outside." I opened my eyes a crack to see a truly stunning black woman in a maid's outfit opening the other blinds and setting them back into their holders. The room was- for want of a better word- odd. The furnishings were in an old fashioned style, but were done in such a fashion that they appeared timeless. I had seen setups like this elsewhere, but this room looked far more authentic. The maid- for that was what she was- was old school creole; she had high cheekbones, a long straight nose, and huge full lips, complemented by these enormous liquid black eyes. But -and I must admit, I tend to be more attracted to faces than to bodies, I dunno why- it was her body in that tiny outfit that set her off for me. She was barely 5'5, yet her legs seemed to go on forever, and -my god!- she had simply the best ass I have EVER seen. And her breasts were heavenly, not imposing as some latin girls' girls are, but they seemed to float in their bodice. And- I seem to be saying that a bit, but I cannot overemphasise this- her hips gave her that wonderful hourglass figure that turned her from merely attractive to both utterly beautiful and mindstoppingly sexy. "I'm sarry sah, but the cleanin crew is comin through soon. The Captain was thinkin you'd appreciate bein woken up a bit... Earlier." I looked at her, dumbstruck. What the fuck is going on? I was distracted on several accounts, most of which should be obvious, but the last of which isn't to you, but most certainly was to the maid, who was both trying very hard not to look at it and trying harder not to smile. Yes, you guessed it; morning wood. My sheets resembled a circus tent, if not an army pavilion. I looked at her hard, making my gaze run over her. She was still bustling round the room, moving like a hurricane. But she made every movement, however unconscious it was, sexy; her picking up the extra sheets and pillows, bending over as she did; the was she reached out, pulling back the remaining curtains and arched her back. The dress she wore was not sexy by itself- it was long, and while there was a slight bodice to it, it was not really revealing- but the way she wore it made it a tease. Her breasts bounced with every step, and she was near running around the room. I couldn't really see her hips swing, but the dress left plenty to my active imagination. It took her a while to notice my stare, but when she did she locked eyes with me. I wondered, is there a challenge in the eyes of every creole girl, a fire which makes you want to tie them up and ravage them as best you can and still know you haven't bested them? Still, I watched as she looked me up and down, making up her mind. Apparently she found whatever she was looking for, because when she found my eyes again there was more than just business there. She sauntered over to me, her dress rustling against a table, trailing her fingernails across the top. Her mouth was open, the corners turning upwards. I dunno if my eyesight is any good- comparatively speaking- but I could see how dilated her pupils were, and she was still a full five feet away. She looked down, at the sheets, as she got closer I took advantage as best I could, pulling and pushing at her skirts until all I could see was the soft white cotton of her panties, framed perfectly by skin the color of rich coffee- let’s get one thing straight here, boys. If you haven’t had a dark skinned lass before, I recommend it at least once, just for the perfect images of white against chocolate. In this case, I meant her underwear. The reason I say ‘image-s’ came later, pun intended.   I nuzzled lightly along the inside of her thighs, running my teeth against her, scoring the surface with tiny bites. She wasn’t quite moaning, but by now she was completely straddling my head, and her hands toyed at my head. I smiled into her skin; she was such a fucking tease.   I took my tongue out of my mouth, and ran the tip of it around the edge of the white cotton, starting near the top, right next to the curve of her hips, all the way down, until I couldn't reach anymore. She tried to pull her hips away, giggling, but I held onto her with my hands. I opened my mouth fully, and closed it lightly on the cup of her femininity. She got the point immediately; move, and you’ll regret it.   I could smell her arousal now, and her panties were slightly wet at the front. I licked at the front of her panties, tracing the outline of the stain her juices made. She moaned, her body moving harder towards my mouth.   I pulled away her panties at the side, and teased her mercilessly. She tried, over and over, to thrust herself closer to me, to force me to do as she willed, but I held firm, even as she pulled me into her with her hands.   I have a long tongue, and I thought of this move a long time ago, and perfected it since. I placed my mouth at the top of her warm slit, and felt for her clit. When I found it, I pulled both sides of my tongue around- you all know some people can roll their tongue? I did it, but placed the sides of it so that it closed on her, making her hips buck.   She thrust sporadically at me, as I ran my mouth up and down, caressing both sides of her clit. Her hands were claws, forcing my head to stay in the same position. She was so into the feeling that I couldn't hear her moans, as her thighs clung to me, holding me in place.   I felt her thrusts become regular, and I knew she was close. I then made my tongue flutter, both sides waving up and down her clit- and before you say ‘no way, that’s impossible’, all I have to say is this: long tongue, LOTS of practice. Trust me.   She stopped thrusting, her hands forcing me even harder into her. She clung to me desperately, and despite the deafening effects of her thighs, I could hear her scream. I continued the waves, and she held me tighter. I couldn't breathe anymore, but I didn’t stop. I could feel wetness flooding my face, and I drank in her taste. I lost myself in it, my movements becoming less sophisticated, lapping at her sex over and over.   I was gasping when she finally let me breathe, and the air tasted almost as good- believe me, I was Really needing air by that point- as she did. I was still gasping when she got off me, and stood by the bed.   “Sah, I’m saw-ry sah- h-he... we...”   I looked up and saw a man by the doorway, looking coldly at the maid. I smiled slightly, staring right back.   “I’m disappointed.” He said, his eyes hard, looking at her. She ducked her head, and left without saying anything.   His head swivelled at me, his eyes equally cold as he looked at me, but here his gaze was appraising as well. Hotel California “I’m sorry sir. She will be disciplined, if you will it.”   I smirked at him, sitting up and stretching.   “Not really. D’you mind?”I gestured at my lower half, and the bed. He nodded, unsmiling, and nodded at me.   “If you have a need, the bathrooms are in the neighbouring room.”   He left the room, and I listened as his heels clicked against the floorboards. I got up, and walked over to the bathroom.   The room was as ornate as the bedroom before it; shimmering tiles, a copper bath, and brass shower over a marble floor. I had never seen anything like this before in my life. I smiled; it was good to be me.   I got in the shower, and ran the water over my face, washing her juices off. While I enjoyed her smell, smelling like sex isn’t a great method to get more.   I have a little ritual, whenever I get in the shower- not, all of you sick minded people, not one of those. I wait a bit, then I make a slow process of turning the water temperature upwards, adjusting over and over until I get to the maximum temperature. I can't tell you how high I get, but I feel kinda cleansed after. Anyway, I washed up, and put my clothes back on; had to get out, before one of these rich people expected me to pay for anything. I was just about to leave, when a voice floated down the staircase, caressing my retreating head. "Leaving so soon?" I turned slowly. Her voice was so familiar, I felt it run up my spine, my hair standing on end. Last night's dim light made the images of her to today incomparable; her hair was long, and clean, and unbelievably shiny. Her eyes were the exact same color, a deep, glossy black that shone from within. Not a narrow face, by any means, but classic, high cheekbones, beautiful skin, and angelic lips, lips that were at this point quirked into a dismayed look. Her dress was high fashion; sleek, and black, but not showy. Part of the reason she looked like Audrey Hepburn was because she wore the long gloves that were high fashion at that time. It- the dress- accentuated her body without clinging, and finished just above her knees. Damn, even her calves were out of my league! I'm not one for awkwardness, but I couldn't help but feel huge and heavy around this broad. Heck, I even felt guilty thinking of her as a broad; had to think of her as a lady. Speaking of which, I'm not sure at what point you noticed, but I tend to go from using proper english to slang quite a bit. I might be a thug, but I'm not stupid. I looked up at her. "Got to move along, miss." She laughed, a deep throaty sound. I was instantly hard. "But we haven't had the opportunity to get to know you at all." Her smile widened, and she slowly descended down the stairs, her eyes flashing at me. I was drawn to her, to her youth, to her beauty. But it was the secrets, swirling around in those huge dark eyes that really intrigued me. This lady knew things; I wanted to know them too. "Fine then; I suppose I could stay. Probably can't afford it, though." I shrugged. She wrinkled up her nose. "You can pay by sharing you company with us. It has been so long since we have played with anyone new." She continued down the stairs, smiling for all the world like I had given her the best present she had ever had. She laid her hand softly on my forearm. "Come; breakfast is waiting." I did. I often wonder what might have happened if I had refused to stay; probably the same thing. Just the ending, ahead of time. ***** The buffet room was, like the rest of the place, a masterpiece; ballroom fixtures, mirrored walls and ceilings in patches, as well as waiter service to each table. The room was full of beautiful people, mostly all of european descent; what you'd imagine if someone wanted to preserve a picture of the south of America, before Lincoln. But the people; my god, the people. They shone as the sunlight struck them, their hair and their clothes glittering and catching the light as they danced to the music of a swing band in one corner, all smiles and laughter. They never stopped, and the dancers never seemed to step a foot out of line, nor did they seem to tire. But the thing that most struck me was the smell that permeated the room; lust crept everywhere, over each surface, around the dancers and through the doors and windows open for the fresh air. I was stunned I hadn't noticed it, as I waited in the hallway, the lady still on my arm (my god, she was small in comparison to me!). It was sweat, but there was something more dishonest within it; it was not a healthy smell. It was like honey, or opium, or marijuana; sickly, seductive, but ultimately wrong, just off. She seemed unaffected by it, as did all of the people in the room; I was as hard as a bar, and straining against my jeans, as I struggled to breathe in and maintain control of myself. I stood out like a sore thumb, beside the obvious wealth of those present, but they affected no notice, and so I didn't press the matter. The man from my room rose stiffly from his table, as we approached, and held a seat out to the lady on my arm as a waiter did the same for me. I was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I asked the waiter for some bourbon. He looked at me as though I was foolish, and instead brought me a glass of port. I drank deeply, as the lady introduced me to the man; he was the Captain, the master of this house. He looked at me impassively with those pale blue eyes, as empty as the lady's were full. The lady was introduced as his wife, and the rest of the table were guests at his estate. I was seated next to the Captain's wife, and a lady who, I was told in a hurried whisper, was a bit of a scandal. "Such pride, I know, to call what is a mere hotel an estate, but forgive my husband his illusions." I merely smiled tightly, and tried to move as little as I could to keep myself from revealing the hard on I had been trying to suppress. It did not help that the Captain's wife was continually touching me, to get my attention, or was smiling at me to ask my opinion on something. Her hands were still clothed in those gloves, but that just made things worse; unbidden, images of one of those gloves wrapped around my cock floated into my head, and it became all I could do to not grab her hand, and make said images reality. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my leg, to the opposite side of the Captain's wife. I swung around, and looked fully into the face of a blonde. Her clothing was every bit as aristocratic as the rest, but her bearing was predatory. She looked at me intensely, her gloved fingers on my zipper. As she pulled it down, she leaned over, and whispered into my ear. "Turn around, and look at her. I want her to know; to watch." I stared at her, as she took me out. She seemed, to everyone else at the table, to have ignored me after having whispered into my ear, but beneath the table, I was struggling. She started by running the pad of her thumb along the underside of my cock, drawing back the foreskin by sheer force of will. Then her fingers surrounded my head, swirling around it. I kept up my charade, watching as the Captain's wife dominated the conversation, her hand constantly on my arm. Her fingers fluttered along my length, and I drew back from the table, to give her more room. I was growing desperate; they tell how a vagina feels like velvet, but I tell you right here and now, a velvet handjob is heaven. The Captain's wife had to be able to see, but she kept going as though there was nothing untoward happening beside her. I was almost done, when she accidently knocked her napkin onto the floor between us. Shooing off the the waiting staff, she leant down, closing the gap between us. The woman's hands closed on the base of me, and began to jack me just as the Captain's wife caught my eye, as she moved down, ever lower, her lovely crimson lips closing over the head of my cock, taking me all the way in, to the other woman's fingers. I burst down her throat, my head arching back. I remember staring straight at the Captain, trying for all the world to look natural- not as though I had just committed adultery in front of him, much less cum inside her- and just barely succeeding. She must've taken it all, because when she came back up there was no sign around her lips, nor on the other woman's gloves. And they both returned to their meals and the conversation, immediately, as though nothing had changed. I excused myself, and fled off to the nearest bathroom. I ran some water into a basin, rubbing it into my face, before looking into the mirror, straight into my own eyes. What the fuck had just happened? I am not considered particularly attractive- scary, arresting, maybe- so this sort of treatment was unknown to me. I had always been a go get'em sort of a man, and it took that sort of thing to get me laid. I couldn't forget the feeling of her mouth, on me, around me. Of her eyes, stroking me with their secrets, of her amazing body that I couldn't really see. I was already hard, and so deep in thought that I didn't hear her come in, behind me. It was the woman, the one next to me at the table; the blonde. I hadn't really had a good look at her- truly, for me, the look in her eyes was enough- but where the Captain's wife hid, flirted, this woman flashed, revealed. Her bodice was part corset, part frilly decolatage, and while her dress flowed down past her ankles her breasts damn near spilled out over the top of her corset, and her waist was unbelievably small. "I didn't get the chance to introduce myself; I'm Margaret." She said, her voice deep and husky. Her pupils were wide, and as she closed the door behind her I caught the whiff of lust again. I couldn't help retreating before her; something was up here, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to get any deeper into the shit. She continued forwards, her eyes devouring me, making my cock strain at my pants painfully, pulsing. Damn it, I'm only human. She kept coming until my head hit a cubicle door, opening it. I crashed down onto the toilet, my eyes on her. She turned, closing the door of the cubicle, one hand in front of her, the other on my thigh. As she turned back around, her fingertips pressed softly into my leg, raising the skin. Her fingers reached my zipper for the second time, and if anything drew me out easier than the first time. Her nails clawed at me, even as her other hand lifted her skirts. Her thighs were wonderful- and let's get one thing straight. Women feel that their thighs are unattractive; I'm telling you, right here, and right now, that thighs are wonderful. On a woman, they show her maturity, her blatant sensuality, and the way she moves them can blow your mind wide open. There is a reason fat bottom girls make the world go round. I had enough. I grabbed her, by the hips, and stood, lifting her off her feet. Her corset tightened around her chest, making her cleavage curve, but I had only mind for her cunt. I held her up, against the wall, as I ran myself against her naked sex, delighting in the wetness, in her openness. She was so ready, I could have taken her all in one stroke, but I kept most of myself out, using only the head. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her mass of blonde curls hanging all around the two of us, as she savaged my shoulder, biting and mewing her way up into my ear. I impaled her into the door, obliterating her efforts as she screeched, her heels slamming into my ass. She was good- better than good- but I couldn't help but picture the Captain's wife, and her beautiful skin, her wonderful lips wrapped around my cock. I lost whatever restraint remained in me, and took her harder against the door. Her mouth, her voice, never stopped; scream after scream, squeal into muted gasp. Her heels hammered into me, forcing me harder, her hands clamped onto my ass cheeks fit to drive me mad. I felt her tighten, and rose higher to meet her as she came. ***** I let her go, and she gave a ragged whisper, her hand moving between her legs, cupping her sex. "Gosh, darling. You made a mess there, didn't you?" I looked down, and saw that my groin, all over my cock and my jeans, was my come and hers intermingled. Lovely; my last pair. "Look," I began, pissed off. "What the fuck is going on here?" "Darling, that was rather nice, wasn't it? Perhaps you could come to my suite later, perhaps?" I walked over to her, and took her ungently by her shoulders, bare to the touch above her corset. She looked away from me, her eyes distant, but her mouth opened, lips parted. "My gosh, darling, are you able already?" She licked her lips. "Are you even listening?" Her eyes came into sharp focus, and she looked up at me, her face impassive, completely vacant. It was as though she was leached from her body, drawn away somewhere else. "Darling," she said; her voice was harsh without emotion, the word awful without the meaning in behind it. "Don't go prying. The master does not like it when others poke their nose into his affairs." I let her go; in an instant, the air had gone cold, the lights dimmer than they had before. I heard a snatch of the music I dimly remembered from my entrance into this place, and it shook me, playing its notes along my spine. She returned to vivacity, and everything became as it was before, as though nothing had happened. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling blue at me. Her teeth shone, as she smiled at me. A warning, regardless. ***** I walked along the corridor, lit through the windows that rimmed the ballroom. The dancers were still dancing, the music still playing. The Captain sat with his wife and with the blonde, clapping and laughing over and over, spinning in a cycle that made my head spin. I wondered at that. I was never afraid, not once. I had never cared, at all, about anything; I took what I wanted, and was content. I passed a doorway, and saw the maid through the gap. I stopped, and looked through the entrance, and opened the door. She was naked, and tied to the bedframe; her wrists with silken ties, her ankles with silver chains. She was face down; her perfect derriarre stuck out into the air, and I watched as she turned her head, looking in the direction of the door as I opened it. Alarm showed on her eyes, but it was not alone; she wanted, that much was obvious. Her eyes glowed black, as goosebumps followed my eyes along her nakedness. "Sah, you shouldn't be he-ah. The captayne, he will..." I placed my finger against my lips; this place was fucked UP. Still, I thought, as I pondered her on the bed. She was amazing with clothing on, before, but it wanted that ass. Wanted to feel myself inside it; wanted to hold it as I came inside her. It. "Please..." She whispered. "I've been g-good sah... The Captain... He..." I couldn't help it; I ran my fingers across her beautiful nakedness. She was cold; it was wonderful how her back arched to my hand. I straddled her thighs, lying on top of her, my entire body pressed against her. I used my arms to keep my whole weight from her, but she sighed as she felt my warmth, making a mewling sound. I was only a man. "Sah..." She murmured softly. I placed my hands against her neck. "I'm going to fuck you," I said softly. "I'm going to take your ass." She shivered; in so far as she could move, she arched herself, pressing against my groin. I lowered my pants, and ran my finger between her legs. I started just above her clit, underneath her, lifting her hips. She was soaking; I wondered at that. I lined myself up with her pussy lips, and covered myself with her; it sent thrills through me, burning tendrils of ice against my manhood. Her skin was dark, amazing against me; I marvelled at it, at the beautiful ass before me. Mine. I placed my cockhead against her, and pressed; she moaned. I thought my head would explode when she began to press back, pushing me in all the more eagerly. She was so tight, gripping me. I was without thought, without words, beyond violence or desire to degrade her. I wanted to power into her, and to not stop until I burst, but she was so tight, even though she strained at me, to force me deeper, faster. I eventually was fully in; she shivered once, twice, and I felt a flood of wetness between my legs; she writhed, as I held deep inside her ass. I pulled away slowly, and pressed in as swiftly as I could; I knelt, and fucked her hard, over and over. I took her hair into my hands, and watched my cock moving in and out of that perfect ass. I felt my end coming, and I held off, wanting to make it last longer; she had none of that. I held deep, as far as I could go, in an effort to stop my climax; she slammed herself into me, which is to say not very effectively, but it was enough. She shuddered as I came inside her, and her voice mingled with mine as I burst inside her ass, over and over. I think I thrust as I came, but I am not certain. I was a creature of instinct; I am a creature of instinct, but never more than in that situation. I turned, straightened myself up, and left for the showers. ***** I found myself dressing in the clothing contained within a wardrobe, in a suite worthy of the venue, when I returned to my room. I figured I might as well dine with them before leaving this odd place. Just as I had finished dressing, the Captain's wife entered the room, and looked at me; looked me up and down, before quirking those perfect lips into what could be imagined as an expression of assent. "Much better; you look rather dashing, a gentleman." I shrugged. "I decided that if I was going to stay for tonight, I should probably be properly attired." Then I shook myself; I don't talk like this. The lights dimmed, and I felt a chill, as though someone walked across my grave. Then, as before, it passed, and I forgot my moment of discomfort. She held out her arm, and I linked it with mine. We walked together, to the dancing hall. "Once dance, before we eat?" She asked me. I nodded, smiling. I had wanted her from the second I saw her; I felt the heat swelling within me. In that second I forgot that she was married, forgot her husband, as we two danced. It was inappropriate, how closely we stood together; I have no doubt she could feel me, through my clothing. It was nothing short of a marvel that I could be aroused, given the women I had already bedded recently, but I was. But that could have been that it was her; her face, her shape, her smell. All of it overwhelmed, intoxicated; I desired her for the entire duration of having known her. I could see us on the mirrors on the ceiling, and I drew away a little. She held me tightly. "We need to speak, you and I." "What about, my dear?" "About my husband; about sin." We were silent. "Is that why we are dancing, so we can talk? Because there is no lying here?" "Are you denying what lies between us? "No." "I never wanted to be his wife." She whispered, pressing her head against my chest. "You are married, yes?" "I... I suppose. It was about land, and we had known each other for the longest time. We grew together. Please do not ask me any more; it would break your heart to make me tell you more." I held her close, and breathed her in, as the dancers circled us, laughing. They never stopped; never seemed to pay us mind; for a second, I wondered at that, but it passed over my thoughts like an ill wind. "Come," she said, stepping back. "Let us dine." ***** We sat; I was between the Captain's wife and the Lady Margaret again. Dinner was wonderful, despite the constant flirtations from the brazen woman. She was pretty enough, but I couldn't help being more focussed on the Captain's wife; the way she bore up in company, her manner. But she lowered her gaze under the Captain's eye; I wondered if he only ever tied the maids to the bed. I felt it beyond me to tie this gentle woman to anything. I couldn't do anything other than to make love to her softly, gently. Hotel California The lady placed her fingers on my leg under the table; I held her wrist, and shook my head when she looked at me. "But you so enjoyed it earlier, darling," she whispered to me. I ground my teeth. "Harridan, be careful what you do in company. I will call on you later, perhaps, but for now, behave." She pouted, an unusual expression on an woman, but was the soul of propriety for the rest of the evening. "Is there a reason you won't tell me your name?" I leant over to my left, and asked the Captain's wife. She looked sadly at me, and was about to answer when the Captain looked over. "Come now, do not whisper at my table." We were unable to talk again at dinner, but the Captain's wife offered to see me to bed. The Captain gave her his blessing to go, before turning his ice blue eyes on me. "I have some discipline to deliver. I may be a little late to bed, my dear." His eyes travelled between us, and they looked all too aware of how things stood, between him and me, but also between his wife and me. My chambers were amazing at night; lit by the gas lights, which cast floating shadows that wavered, flickering the dimness around. It created mystery, sensuality, where there was none before; given that the Captain's wife was already both of those, the room rendered her doubly of either. Her skin was pale, but in the light she was no longer simply bleached; she was tanned by the firelights, browned and yellowed into their color. She sat at the divan in the corner, opposite the bed. She leant back, and stretched out, her eyes catlike. "Why won't you tell me your name?" I asked her again, standing over by the door. I did not trust myself closer to her. "You know," she said conversationally. "I used to sit in this room, when my parents brought me to this place. This was my room; this was the room when he first came to me, and took from me my purity." She looked up at me, and she was naked, unhooded in her emotion. Something was broken within her. "I was twenty one; we were betrothed, and he took my virginity well before our marriage. It was not so much a forceful taking as... well, I would have waited, and while I was not unwilling I was not the opposite, either. "He has changed, since; he beds the maids, the staff, the slaves, as he would. That whore from dinner, she came here at his invitation; I know you bedded her." She stood, and walked over to me. "So I ask you, why should I give you my name?" There was a knock on the door, and as I opened it the Lady Margaret walked through. She reddened, on seeing the Captain's wife, but then walked over to her. Something seemed to pass between them; they turned back to face me as one. They were both so different; Margaret was almost as tall as I was, and was statuesque; her shape was desire incarnate, temptation born. Her hair fell in golden waves to just above her waist, and her maroon dress and bodice was darkened by the dimness of the room. The Captain's wife was small, so exquisite; she was a precious stone, a diamond beside a lump of gold. Her hair was so dark, so straight, so perfectly arranged; it was artful, her perfection in appearance, it was effortless. Easy. Her face was so classically beautiful, it appeared almost exotic. But as much as I could see of her, she hid so much more within. The cut of her dress was modest; she showed only the merest hint of bosom and hip; it had the effect of making me ache for more. They both walked slowly to me; their steps matched each others perfectly. I wanted them both; I wondered at their unison, if it was true. "I spoke to the Mistress, earlier," the Lady Margaret said softly, as she walked to me. "I wanted to be there, when you first took her. I wanted to see you the first time you lost yourself." The Captain's wife didn't stop when Margaret did; she pressed herself to me. I was hard up against the door, not to evade her embrace as to escape from a situation in which I had no control, and no desire to truly absent myself. She kissed me. My body moved naturally to surround hers; my arms held her to me. My eyes closed as we entered Elysium together, our minds naturally lost. I felt hands unbuttoning my shirt, as the Captain's wife worked my pants down; I felt Margaret's lips on my shoulder, her hair on my back. We disolved together, onto the bed. For some reason I was divested of all apparel where the women retained all non essentially removable clothing. I kissed Margaret as the Captain's wife took me into her mouth; I cupped her sex in my hand, as Margaret straddled my head, feeling as my erection entered her between my fingers. We melded, broke; we kissed over and over, we devoured each other's passion. We lay there, a tangled mass of golden curls and clothing, swimming in bliss. To say that I was disappointed would be completely untrue, but I wanted to know the Captain's wife more, to have her just to me. To make her mine, not to share her even with just another woman. I think I must have dozed, because I awoke alone, with insistent knocking on my door. The Captain entered, and regarded me. I felt somewhat odd, the man whom I had just cuckolded within my chambers, but I sat up. "Tell me, sir, why is it that you insist on entering my chambers without introduction?" "My wife," he said shortly. "I have yet to see her this morning. I assumed she was still here." His nostrils flared as I my eyes widened, at least initially- he knew? "Oh, yes, I know of my wife's predilections. We will discuss this later, but for now, join us for a lite meal. There is a feast tonight; we must be ready." He left the room; I watched, then stared into the spot he had just vacated. I knew I was a cad, but frankly, I- And I came back to myself. ***** I was a fucking dickhead, not a cad. I didn't know what the fuck Elysium was, or what the fuck was happening. I wanted out; I wanted my jeans, so when I found them, crumpled and dirty on the bottom of the wardrobe I put them on, inhaling the only thing that could make me remember properly who I was. I looked for my leather jacket- fuck, I was dying for some bourbon- but I couldn't find it. I put on the heavy combat boots I wore here, and I walked out into the hallway. It was as though the eight hours had passed, and it was night already, as I crept down the corridor. The place was deserted; I saw cracks in the perfect walls, broken glass where the windows were. And the wind howled, genuinely howled around the house. The chill I had felt was wrapped around me; every step I took was a chore. "There he is," the Captain's wife said coldly, behind me. "Surely you would not be so rude as to leave before the feast? Then, you have displayed a deplorable lack of manners," the whore Margaret said, using velvet clad fingers to emphasise her words. I turned, and looked at them, the two; they were as I remembered them, perfect. But they stood out now, against the hall; they were the only thing here without flaw, the only thing that shone. It hurt to look at them, and I was truly afraid of them. "Come with us. Come to the Captain's chambers, where we gather for the feast." I felt a pounding, between my eyes, and I vanished from myself. I opened my eyes, and I was still me, thankfully, but I lay astride a table. It was stone; everything around was stone. I was tied face up, my body naked and cold. "How does it feel, sah?" I craned my head around, trying to find the maid, but I could only see myself. I tried to break the bonds that held me, but I couldn't move an inch. "I couldn't move either, when my husband had his way with me." The Captain's wife whispered at me, over to my right. "I lied to you, when I said I was willing for that at all." "Her predilections lay elsewhere. In my direction," Margaret's voice rasped, directly over my head. I writhed then, as something ran across the skin of my stomach. "So he took me, and hurt me-" "Just like he did me," the maid interrupted. "And then he married me, and kept my love as a mistress." The Captain's wife whispered lovingly into my ear. "Like you did," Margaret said."You are like him; like he was. He wasn't as you saw him; that is rather how we wished he was. But then, you'll see how he is now, soon." "Would you like to know why? Why we did all this, broke you like this?" I nodded. "Because women have suffered at your hands, all your life." Margaret's face appeared above me, the skin too pale, her cheeks gaunt. She was a corpse; I could feel her breath, fetid on my cheek, and I retched. "And your debts to usssss...sah." The maid said, before they all spoke in unison. "Are due." ***** The bonds holding me broke, and I stood, and looked for the exit; the room came slowly into view, dimness blurring into reality. Then I saw it; the Beast. I ran. It chased me, charging through walls, savage in its hunger. But, as it pursued me, I could hear cries of pursuit; even as it chased me, thirsting for my blood, so was it too chased, harried. I stumbled, and it slammed into me, a grand hulking mass of flesh and blackness; it yelped in surprise, before growling. It took me into its claws, and lifted me off my feet; I stared, over its snout, and into the electric blue eyes before I realised. The maid, the lady, and the Captain's wife followed, and they each had a kitchen knife. Lined with blood. It did not just coat the blades; no, it was spotting their clothing, rimming around the corners of their mouths, their eyes. Their beauty eternally marred by the blood that changed them from delight into terror. They were Terror. Then we both were running, ever running, stumbling over each other in our effort to escape the women, the banshees of our destruction. I had not known the place was so large, so extensive; now I thanked whatever god was listening that it was, and that the women did not have us cornered. "This is what you are," the women said, their voices ringing like funeral bells. "To us- to all women- you are beasts, and like beasts you will be purged." They swooped us, and I felt their steel against me; I watched as the maid licked my blood off her knife. I screamed. ****** Another night, another dim stretch of road. Eyes really dim this time. Keep slipping off. Air's really cold tonight. Got bits of ice in it. Glad I took that bottle of whiskey, though. Helped dull the pain. Hang on. Huge building, tucked away into a neat corner, all lit up like a christmas tree without the sanctimoniousness. There was a girl outside. Pretty. Long, flowing hair. Black dress. Kinda looks like that classy chick from breakfast at tiffanys. I can't remember pulling over. I only remember her lighting a candle, and beckoning me inside. I could hear the wind whistling outside, carrying snatches of words. But this time, I could understand the voice; it was familiar, a song I once heard. "You may check out any time you like..." I heard the words, but the rest of the song escaped me as I passed away into deepest unconsciousness, to repeat all of this again.