This morning was just the same as so many other mornings I've had lately. Once again I found myself sitting naked on the edge of the bed while an attractive woman rushes out of the motel room door, perhaps gagging a bit, certainly deeply remorseful. Funny, I know exactly what they think the first step they take after closing the door behind them, hell, I've actually heard several speak it out loud. They think, or say, "That's the last time I'm ever going to drink that much."
Okay, they may not say or think exactly the same thing, but it's always something along that line. Hell, I see it the instant they wake up, wash the fogginess out of their eyes and see me waiting for them in the bed. At that point the words, "Fat Fuck," immediately come to their minds. I haven't figured out how to tell when they are referring directly to me or if they are simply recalling the activities of the night before.
I think what makes it worse for many of them is that they remember enough of the night before to realize that they had enjoyed themselves, at least that's what it seems if you judge by the orgasm(s) they had. Yeah, I know I don't make a pretty picture and understanding my painfully average size cock is hampered by some excess baggage, I focus myself to something I believe all women truly want: oral sex. Well, let me rephrase that, they want to receive oral sex from a man, especially if they are not expected to reciprocate.
Take Tanya for example, the woman you might have seen leaning against the wall just outside my hotel door this morning. Yeah, the one doubled over and retching, that's Tanya, who, by the way, will give up her binge drinking this very morning, going on to marry a nice man she will met at church. Anyway, take Tanya, a very attractive woman with blonde hair and a bit darker bush who divorced several months ago.
It was nearly eleven-thirty when I first met her, you see, I usually wait until after eleven or so to first enter to bar so a lot of the women are already too wasted to really size me up. I also have been able to hide a lot of my weight with the clothes I wear, but I still usually shy away from the sober ones. Anyway, by eleven-thirty Tanya had been drinking quite a bit so I sauntered over and asked her to dance.
Mind you, I can't dance, but by timing this approach just right I was able to take her hand, casually walk to the dance floor and take my position just as the band announced they were taking a break. I looked over at Tanya, letting her see the disappointment in my eyes and said, "Oh I'm sorry about the dance, can I buy you a drink instead?"
She smiled and with the alcohol completely befuddling her senses, she followed me back to my table, fell for my irresistible charm and then followed me out to my car. Tanya was more than happy to come back to my hotel room for a nightcap and a bit of quiet dancing. Fortunately the hotel was very close and she had forgotten about the nightcap by the time we made it up to the room.
