Checout Time at the Bates Motel

Check-In

The five of them stumble in, oblivious to the contradiction in the camouflage jackets and orange vests they are sporting, and as drunk as the skunks they will probably shoot in lieu of ducks or 'possums or hapless squirrels.

The big one named Matt slams his paw down on the counter, inadvertently ringing the silver bell.

"Hey," he yells, "Anybody here?"

"I'm comin,' ya hopeless yahoos," are the first words out of the old lady's toothless mouth as she creeps around the corner in her walker at a speed that would earn her last place in the earthworm Olympics.

"Doncha' get your balls all twisted in your BVDs, boys." she says. "Whatcha want? Wait, don't tell me. It's rooms, ain't it? That's what it always is, unfortunately. Got just whatcha need.

"Which way you swing, boys? 'Cause I'm available too," the old biddy says, pulling her nightgown more tightly around her withered breasts. "Gets mighty lonely up here sometimes. And I'm all you got for at least 40 miles, the only living soul in these here godforsaken woods."

Matt was kind of horny, but he hoped he would never get

that

horny.

Still not entirely clear on which way he swung (although he definitely knew he didn't swing

that way

), Billy asked, "What about him?" and pointed at the guy seated with his back to them in rocking chair in the next room.

"Oh him? That's my son Norman. He's asleep. He don't count because he mostly just sleeps.

Hey Norman, wake up!

"See what I mean? He ain't good for nothin,' just sleeps."

"What's up with all trucks parked in the woods down yonder?" Jimbo asks. "And how come there aren't any up here?"

"Oh well, my Norman. He's somethin' of a truck collector, leastwise while he's awake. Aint' a bad taxidermist neither."

Tuck-In

As they settle in for the night, there comes a rapping at their door. Jimbo gets it, he being the least wasted, not to mention the closest.

It is the old lady again. Jimbo greets her with a "Whaddaya want now?"

"I just come to give y'all tuck-in service," the toothless hag says.

"Lady, how many times I gotta tell ya? We don't need that kinda tuck-in service. Leastways, not from you."

Jimbo inhales deeply, sniffing in the trace of a long forgotten scent. "Watcha got there?" he asks her.

"Oh nothing. Just some o' mah fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. But I reckon the likes of y'all don't need nothing like that."

Jimbo's nose is all atwitter now, but he manages to say, "I guess there ain't no harm in a few cookies. Jus' put 'em on the bed over by Ryan there."

The old bat motors over to Ryan at lightning speed (0.02 mph in her 2009 steel walker), but when she gets to him, she stumbles and falls right on top of him on the bed. She reaches out to give him the

coup de gras.

He gasps as his tool becomes rock hard. "What are you doin' to me?" he asks.

"Oh, jus' a lil' somethin' ah picked up along the way. A gal learns a few thangs ovah the course of ninety years, Sonny boy. And ya oughtta take advantage of it."

Actually it was more like the course of 900 years, and she likes to call this particular maneuver the Himalayan twist, because she first used on a group of Yeti that were fixin' to eat her (in a bad way) back in 1456.

She switches to the falling dragon technique she had learned at the Shinto temple back in 1312.

"Oh my God, what are you doin' to me?" Ryan exclaims. "I ain't never felt like this. Whatever you're doin,' please don't stop. Ever!"

She unzips him and his cracker boner springs free, God almighty, free at last. Ten inches. That was three inches over Ryan's personal best, which he achieved with the help of Missy Sue Johnston in the front seat of her daddy's truck back in aught three.

The old biddy lowers her toothless mouth over his hyperextended, throbbing tool and goes to work, using every Tantric trick she had learned in her years in Tibet, not to mention the cocksucking techniques patiently taught her by the Dominican monks in her misspent decades as a nun (and what better teachers could one ask for?).

"I can't believe this, what yer doin' to me. Oh mah God, this feels so good."

She looks up and makes eye contact with Jimbo and the little one called Everett. Her mouth too full to speak, she pats the bed on each side of her. They hustle right over and take a seat on each side of her. The big one they call Matt stands behind her. That leaves one unaccounted for: Billy. She could hear the shower running. Billy. She would deal with him later.

She unzips Jimbo and Everett simultaneously. In no time flat, she seizes their jutting members in her hands and performs the Dravidian Heimlich maneuver. They cry out in ecstasy, their milk pouring down her fingers.

She knows that she can keep them in orgasm for several minutes, but that still leaves the big one they called Matt standing behind her. And then there is Billy, but he is still in the shower. All things in their time.

Time for the

vagina dentata

gambit, she thinks. "Hey Big Boy, why doncha come down here and see me sometime," her cunt queefs to Matt in its best Mae West impression.

Mesmerized by Jimbo's and Everett's continuing screams of ecstasy, not to mention the talking cunt, Matt hustles over, drops trou and flips hag's nightgown up over her bony ass. OK, maybe there was a little more cellulite than he was looking for, but he is transfixed by the sophisticated motions of her cunt's lips. Are those tongues he sees moving in there?

"Come on, Big Guy. I'm gonna give ya a ride you'll never forget," her cunt promises him.

Matt shoves his throbbing tool deeply into the cunt's mouth, where it is immediately surrounded by an army of lapping tongues and maybe a couple of teeth.

The crone's head bobs up and down on Ryan's gigantic tool at a faster and faster pace, as her hands continue to milk Jimbo's and Everett's rock-hard shafts.

Suddenly, Ryan cries out as the entire liquefied contents of his balls are pulled down the old biddy's mouth. Then his head does an impression of a time-lapse movie of a banana going senile over the course of four weeks. Soon it collapses into dust.

She smiles as she feels her youth returning. She turns and drinks Jimbo like a milkshake through a straw.

Matt looks up and sees two of his best buds' heads turned into dust and the old lady working on the third. Her hair seems fuller now, the liver spots fading from her skin. He panics and attempts to withdraw, but he is held tight by...are those teeth? No they couldn't be.

Everett's head implodes, and his flesh, now dust, pours upon the floor. Matt gives it the old community college try and yanks his cock as hard as he can out of the bitch's grasping cunt, but to no avail. He is still as hard as a rock, and his cock throbs with both pain and ecstasy as she drinks him. He feels his head imploding, then an exquisite joy as his higher brain centers are liquefied, followed by intense pain as they are squeezed into what was left of the limbic system in his brain. Then there was nothing.

She climbs out of the pile of dust that had once been Matt. She rips off her nightgown and catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Not bad. She could pass for forty now, forty-five at tops.

She makes a beeline for Billy, who is still happily singing in the shower.

When she steps into the shower, Billy tries to hide himself and runs into the bedroom. He sees the piles of dust that now inhabit his friends' camouflage suits.

"What have you done to them?" he asks her as she emerges from the bathroom.

"Oh, that. My bad. That's really nothing to get all worked up about, honey. Just a little dust. We get that here sometimes. I'll call housekeeping and they'll be right over to clean it up."

"How did the dust get inside their clothes?" Billy points at the old lady's walker. "What about her? Is she dust too?"

"Oh no. Ma forgets that all the time. I'll bring it back to her. You looked troubled. Why doncha come over here, and I'll give you a great big hug."

A hot cougar is not the way Billy swings either, as least not yet. "No, you are her; I know it. You burnt all my friends, and now you want to burn me too." Billy turns and runs out into the cool mountain night, naked as a jaybird. He had to get to the office.

That guy Norman would help him. He knew he would.

Feets don't fail me now.

Check-Out

Billy bursts through the office door. It is dark in the next room, but he can make out the figure of Norman, still sleeping in the rocking chair. "Norman! Mister Bates! You have to help me!"

No response. Billy runs around to the front of the rocking chair. Norman doesn't look too good, with his blackened shriveled head leaning back against rocking chair. Billy shakes him by the shoulder to wake him, but he is nothing but dust, which rapidly pours through the spokes of the rocking chair.

"OK, we might have engaged in a little incest a while ago."

Billy turns around. It's the old biddy from the office. Except she isn't an old biddy anymore. Her naked 19-year-old's skin gleams in the mountain moonlight. Her lush auburn hair pours down her silvery back. Billy's eyes trace their way down her perfect body, lingering on her white neck, the soft mounds of her inviting breasts, her taut well-honed tummy, and the triangle of silky hair nestled between her legs.

Unfortunately, Billy thinks, he most definitely does swing

this way

. Despite his fear, he sports a rock-hard boner. He must try everything in his power to resist her.

"Come on, Billy. You know you want me," she coos, with her arms stretched out to him."

Billy takes one zombie-staggered step in her direction, and stops. "You'll turn me to dust!" he says.

"Billy, look at me. Most men would gladly die to be with me. I have centuries of practice in how to please a man. You will experience things few men have ever known. You will be the stud of all time. Come to me, Billy."

Billy takes six more zombie steps forward, bringing him close enough for her to throw her arms around his shoulders, pressing her bare breasts against his own naked chest. His boner grows three inches and begins to throb as she kisses his neck and her fingernails trace their way down his burning skin and over his thigh, then finding his balls and squeezing them.

Billy feels an impossibly intense wave of pleasure coursing through his body, feeling a oneness with her as she kisses her way down his chest and takes his pulsing organ into her skilled mouth. He drops his hands to her silky hair and grabs her head as she nurses on his swollen, pulsing root. She reaches around to grab his ass, holding it firmly as she pounds her mouth down upon his shaft over and over, moving her tongue in impossible spiral patterns.

Billy feels on the verge of explosion, when she whispers, "Ride me, Billy. Enter me. Become me."

She pulls him by his cock as she lies down, spreading herself, offering herself completely. She guides him into her as he lies down upon her perfection. She wraps her legs around him, her tongue doing crazy things to his ear as she grabs his ass and urges him to a faster and faster pace.

Billy can feel the tongues in her cunt surrounding his cock, working it in ways that are not humanly possible. Her mouth accepts his tongue, her lips closing tightly on it as he explores her oral cavity, sensing the darkness that lies beneath her throat. She arches her back, teasing his chest with her jutting breasts, as he batters his way in and out of her.

Their breathing becomes faster and faster as the pleasure rises and they both cry out as they come, one body now, one being, two souls wed as one in the soft moonlight.

She gently drinks him and Billy can feel his essence flowing into her sweet cunt and mouth, leaving the base dust behind.

Housekeeping would take care of it in the morning. They always do.