The Maples Motel

"Damn, Baby. You really know how to suck a cock. Hold up for a while or you'll make me cum."

The bleached blonde with huge breasts giggled around the guy's half-hard cock.

"That's the general idea, Honey, isn't it?"

"Well, this is great, but I wanna be fuckin' that tight little pussy of yours when I cum."

The blonde pulled her mouth up over the guy's cock and made a smacking sound when the head slipped from her lips.

"Tell you what, Honey. You eat my little pussy and make me cum, and then I'll ride your cock and fuck you cross-eyed. After that, I'll suck you all nice and hard again, and you can fuck me however you want."

The man grinned.

"However I want?"

"Yeah, however you want, well, just not in the bottom again for a while. That hurt too much the last time."

The man grinned.

"I brought some lube this time. It won't hurt at all."

The blonde shook her head.

"I've been using my hair brush handle to practice, but I'm not ready yet. Maybe next month."

"Could I talk you into a titty fuck and a blow job then."

"Honey, you don't have to talk me into that 'cause I love that. I'll suck your balls dry for you. Now, give my little pussy some love licks."

All that came through the headphones Walter wore as he watched one of the eleven flat screen monitors in his private viewing room. Walter loosened the belt on his jeans and pulled them down to his knees as the blonde laid back, raised her knees and spread her legs wide, and then pulled her thick pussy lips apart. The man buried his face between her thighs and his head began to bob. Walter switched the main feed from the overhead camera to one on the wall, turned up the sound a little so he could hear the slurping noises and started slowly stroking his stiff cock.

The blonde began to roll her belly a little later, and she gasped when the man reached up and grabbed a thick nipple in each hand and then pulled. The blonde screeched and began writhing under the guy's face. He pulled her nipples again, and the blonde arched her back.

"Oh Honey, I'm cumming."

Walter came as well, catching the four spurts of cum in a tissue he then threw in the trashcan beside the desk.

The blonde was still panting when the guy raised up, and she grinned.

"You've got me all over your chin, Honey."

"Yeah, I know. You damn near drowned me."

"Well, I was just makin' my little pussy all wet for your cock. Lay down and let me ride that big cock now. I wanna cum again."

Walter turned to the smaller monitor to his left and frowned. The two guys who said they were in Nashville for a concert were in bed together and stroking each other's cocks. Walter turned that screen off and turned to his right. That was Gladys' cabin, and Gladys was being Gladys like she always did. She was naked on her bed and stroking a big purple dildo in and out of her pussy. He switched that feed to the large monitor in front of his chair.

Walter smiled. Gladys was one of the full time residents, about seventy, and if he'd been a little braver, he might have tried to replace that purple dildo with his cock. Gladys hadn't been all that subtle when she moved in about asking him if he liked older women.

"I haven't had a man to help me with things since Bernie passed on. Bless his heart, he wasn't much help the last ten years, but he did try."

Gladys had looked up at him and grinned then.

"Maybe you'd like to help me with something sometime. I might be old, but I can still do my part in about anything, if you know what I mean. You like helping older women?"

He switched the headphone switch to Cabin 8 at the same time Gladys groaned and arched into the dildo.

"Oh Walter, you make me feel so good. Do me again."

Walter smiled. Gladys had named her dildo after him. Maybe if he could muster up the courage to talk to her, he would help her do something one of these days. Gladys was a little thick in the middle but she had big breasts and what he could see of her pussy through the carpet of salt and pepper hair looked stretched pretty tight by that dildo. He switched the video and headphone switches back to Cabin 5, the cabin with the blonde and the guy.

She was rocking up and down on the guy's cock while he pinched and rolled her nipples.

"Oh Honey", the blonde gasped, "I'm gonna come all over your cock."

The guy groaned and rammed his cock up as the blonde came down.

"Do it, Baby. I'm gonna cum too."

"Come in me Honey", gasped the blonde just before she started quickly rocking her hips.

She shrieked and fell on the guy's chest with her hips rocking rapidly at the same time he was pumping his cock in and out. A minute later, they were both laying side by side and panting.

Carl and Sheila were regulars at The Maples. Walter knew they'd be done for a while until Sheila sucked some life back into Carls's cock. Carl always signed the rental agreement as Rick Ridgley, but he'd heard the woman call him Carl once. The woman always waited in the car while the guy rented the cabin, but he'd heard the man call her Sheila. Both were in their early forties, and both wore wedding rings, but Walter knew they weren't married to each other. Sheila had once asked Carl if his wife suspected anything. He'd said no, and asked her the same question about her husband.

Walter knew it always took Sheila half an hour or so before Carl's cock was standing tall and ready to fuck her again. Walter also knew they might keep going for several hours, so he could always come back to them. He turned the headphone switch to Cabin 3 and looked up to that monitor.

Damn, he frowned, I missed 'em.

Both women were under the covers and cuddling as the redhead reached over and turned off the lamp beside the bed. Like Sheila, both Trixie and Martha wore wedding rings. Walter listened for a few minutes as the two women talked in the dark.

"Can you get away next week", asked Trixie.

"Probably", answered Martha. "Bill has another conference to attend and he has to leave early on Saturday morning to get there."

"Mmm...we'll have Saturday and all day Sunday together then."

Walter heard the sound of kissing and then Martha's voice.

"We could have the whole week if you want. Bill won't be back until Friday night."

He heard Trixie sigh.

"I'd love to, but John says two nights a week is enough. He wants me the other nights."

"Trixie, it's really great that your husband understands what you need. I wish Bill did, but if I talked to him about us, he'd tell me I was crazy. Is it really that good for you, being fucked by a man, I mean? I don't remember. Bill hasn't touched me in three years."

"Well, it's different. He's not better than you are, he's just different. Don't worry. I'm not about to give you up."

"He's not jealous?"

Trixie chuckled.

"Not hardly. He'd like to join us, but I told him you'd never do that."

"You've said that before, Trixie. I'm really sorry, but I just can't."

"I know, Martha, and it's OK. Now, let's go to sleep so we can do some shopping tomorrow. I want to go to that little shop that sells lingerie and buy you something outrageously sexy."

Martha giggled.

"So you can take it off me as soon as I put it on?"

"Yeah...but I'll be kissing and nibbling you all over when I do."

"Mmmm. I can hardly wait."

Walter switched his headphones back to Cabin 5 in time to see Sheila on her hands and knees with Carl pumping his cock in her from behind. He held her heavy swinging breasts, one in each hand. He pinched both nipples between his fingers and then pulled down. The blonde gasped.

"Oh fuck Honey, you got me there again. You cum in me this time too, OK?"

"You got it, Baby. I'm gonna fill that little pussy up until it runs back out."

"Oh, Honey, you know what it does when you...Oh God...when you say things like that."

"Yeah, you squirt all over the bed. Well, I'm gonna fuck your tight little hole until you can't hold yourself up and then I'm gonna fuck you some more."

"Oh God, Honey, don't stop. I'm cumming again."

Carl rammed his cock deep in Sheila and made four quick thrusts as Sheila cried out and started to shake. She'd have fallen flat on the bed if Carl hadn't grabbed her wide hips and held her up. He didn't let her go until his cock slipped out.

Walter was stroking his cock again and waiting for what he knew would happen next. Sheila eased her breasts down on the bed but kept her ass up in the air. Walter watched her contract her pussy and then push it out. When she did, her pussy lips opened and a flow of white cum oozed out of her still gaping entrance. Carl quickly put a towel under her to catch it.

Walter groaned and his cock spurted three times into the tissue he held over the head. He wiped away what had run down his shaft and tossed the tissue into the trash can. Then, he switched the video feed from Cabin 5 to the video recorder, shut off all the monitors, and went to bed. Tomorrow morning, he'd watch whatever Sheila and Carl did the rest of the night. Watching them always made him cum.

Walter had bought The Maples Motel for a little more than the land was worth and even after the renovations he'd used most of his savings to do, he was able to keep the rates at half what the chain hotels charged. Of course, that meant his clientele wasn't quite as upscale as the chain hotels attracted, but The Maples Motel wasn't like the chains in more ways than cost.

It had been built by a couple right after World War II and sat on state highway 106 at what was then the southern outskirts of Nashville, Tennessee. The location had been ideal then. Travelers going through Nashville on their way to and from Birmingham or other cities in Alabama would stop there because it was one of the only motels around. Staying in Nashville proper meant a hotel with multiple floors, difficulty in finding a place to park, and a fairly high room rate.

The Maples had none of those problems. The "rooms" were actually small, separate cabins each with one room that served both as a bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a living room, and each had a small bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower. One could park a car right at the front door of the cabin instead of having to walk a block or more carrying luggage. Each cabin had a small stove, refrigerator and sink, so they were much in demand for people with families. It was a lot cheaper to buy a few things at the grocery store and cook them in the cabin than feed four or more people at a restaurant. The rates were also reasonable for people working factory jobs instead of working as managers in the music business or salesmen calling on the manufacturing industries in Nashville.

The Maples did pretty well for a couple years after Interstate 65 was built. A lot of people had stayed there before and liked it. Then, the chains began popping up all over, and were quickly surrounded by the fast food restaurants, gas stations, and the obligatory big box stores. Everything a traveler needed was within a five minutes drive from the hotel and often within a short walk. The fill rate of The Maples decreased to almost zero, and the owners were forced to reduce the rates and cut back on maintenance.

By the time Walt bought it, there were two cabins in use by permanent residents and the other ten needed major repairs to be habitable. The main office/owner's home was still in good shape though, and Walt planned on doing the repairs to the cabins himself. The owners were happy to accept his counter offer. They'd already made the down payment on a condo in Florida and needed the money.

During the three weeks vacation he used before leaving his job as an accountant at one of the local factories, Walter had stripped the walls of each cabin except the two that were occupied and put up vinyl wall paper. The floors got new vinyl tile. He painted all the ceilings and installed lighted fans over the beds. New combination heaters/airconditioners finished his renovation. Walter then turned his attention then to some special additions that cost him most of his remaining savings.

Walter had experienced problems with women since he was in high school. It wasn't that he didn't like women because he did. He just didn't have any idea how to talk to women. As a result, he'd never had a female friend much less a date. He didn't have any male friends either because he wasn't into all the things men are supposed to like. He didn't watch or play sports, didn't fish or hunt, and he didn't hang out in bars every weekend.

Most of what Walter knew about women had come from the men's magazines he bought at a little grocery store twenty miles from his house. He began to like looking at the nude women and jacking off when he looked at the pictures. It was inevitable that he'd want to see a real live woman naked. Walter had bought The Maples Motel because of that need, and he made the most of the opportunity.

In each ceiling fan he installed a miniature video camera and microphone that looked like decorative trim, and he put similar cameras in the light fixtures on each wall. The bathroom got a video camera aimed at the shower, another aimed at the toilet, and still another above the vanity mirror over the sink, all camouflaged as trim around a light fixture or mirror frame.

Walter had used wired cameras and microphones because he'd read that the signals from wireless cameras could be intercepted by others. Walter knew what he was doing probably wasn't exactly legal, and he didn't want anybody finding a video signal and then tracking down the source. The wires for all the cameras and microphones led through the walls and up above the ceiling of each cabin. From there, they formed a cable that ran overhead to the viewing room in the office. Nobody had ever asked about those cables, but if they had, Walter would have said they were to run the cable TV and electricity to each cabin.

In a small room he'd walled off from what had been the living room of the owners home, Walter installed a large video monitor and ten smaller monitors with switches to connect any camera feed to any monitor. He also installed amplifiers for the microphones with switches to connect any microphone to his headphones, and another switch to connect the video from any camera and the corresponding audio to a video recorder.

His chair sat in the center of the arc of monitors, and the switch panel was to his right. The entrance to that room looked like a book shelf in the living room, but it moved down the wall on rollers to reveal the actual door. That door was locked with a push-button combination lock.

Walter needed customers to watch, so he built a simple web site explaining that The Maples Motel was a place to experience traveling as it was in the good old days. The web site was careful to point out that while The Maples Motel did accept credit cards, cash was always welcome and that with cash, The Maples didn't require the personal information most of the chain hotels did.

Business was slow until two couples showed up one afternoon and rented a cabin for the weekend. They asked if cash was OK and were amazed that Walter said yes and didn't ask them for any personal information. He only had them sign a rental agreement. He'd even chuckled that if they didn't use their real names, nobody was going to check.

Walter had watched the two couples that night as they played. He came when the two women kissed, fondled each other's breasts, and fingered each other's pussies until they came. He came again when the women were sucking the men's cocks while the men licked the women's pussies. He came again when each man fucked the other's wife.

Business seemed to pick up after that. It wasn't because he'd paid to advertise more. Walter had the best advertising money can't buy. He'd listened in to more than one couple who talked about finding The Maples Motel on an adult web site as a place to go for private playtime that was clean and didn't ask a lot of questions.

A month after that he filled another four of the cabins with full time residents as a result of the newspaper ad he ran for a few months. Those people were retired couples living on Social Security along with a little savings. The Maples had become a sort of community for them because they all knew each other and socialized every day.

He did have a few customers who came to Nashville for the music or to prowl the many shops in town. The only time they were at The Maples was at night, so it didn't matter to them if they had forty seven cable TV channels instead of sixteen or if there was a workout room and spa available. It was just a cheap place to sleep.

The bulk of his new business was what Walt called his "overnighters", though sometimes they stayed only a couple of hours and some stayed for the weekend. The "overnighters" were usually a couple who wanted a quiet place for a little fun where nobody knew them. They came from nearby towns and cities, and sometimes from as far away as Chattanooga or Knoxville or Memphis.

These same people weren't into answering a lot of questions about who they were or where they lived, and they weren't into using credit cards either. They paid in advance with cash, and Walt was pretty certain the names on most of the room rental agreements were fake. It was these customers who gave Walter most of his evening entertainment.

Walter was usually sitting in his chair in the viewing room by six. There wasn't much to see before that since his customers would usually go out to eat or were making dinner in the tiny kitchen area. It would be about seven when things started to get interesting, but he sat down at six just in case.

If things weren't happening in one of the overnighter cabins, he'd watch Cabin 9 or Cabin 10. Joe and Rita Asherman lived in Cabin 9, and Jack and Liz Clovis lived in Cabin 10. Both couples were retired and on fixed incomes so neither couple did much except sleep, eat and watch TV until they got together every evening. On many of those evenings, they'd end up in bed together and doing all the things Walter had fantasized about doing since he was in high school.

They hadn't done anything when they first moved in, but then Rita and Liz had a birthday party for Joe. Both women had evidently decided to make the party a good one. Walter was watching Cabin 9 when Jack and Liz came in. Jack grinned and pulled a bottle of bourbon from the paper sack he carried.

"Thought this might help the party along a little", he chuckled. "Liz says you're a bourbon man. That right, Joe?

"Oh yeah...bourbon and I go back a long ways."

Rita smiled.

"Yes you do. I remember pulling you out of the bushes in the front yard one night after you two got together."

"Well, I was just really tired that night, that's all."

Rita chuckled.

"You didn't seem all that tired once we went to bed. I couldn't keep your hands off me. You weren't able to do anything but you sure wanted to try."

Liz laughed.

"Did that happen to you too? I didn't pull Jack out of the bushes, but I did have to help him undress. He said the room was spinning too much and he couldn't find his belt. Once I got his clothes off he seemed to be able to find me just fine. I got my boobs and butt squeezed until I got naked. I got him in bed and climbed in after him expecting to have a little fun. He'd gone to sleep. Can you believe that? He got me all hot and bothered and then he went to sleep."

Rita smiled.

"It's the bourbon that does it to them. That's why we girls don't drink it. I got us some vodka and orange juice."

After two drinks, Liz whispered something to Rita that Walter couldn't hear. Rita grinned as she nodded. Liz turned to Joe.

"Joe, Rita says you've always had this fantasy about seeing her with another woman."

Joe grinned.

"Yep. I never could convince her to do it, though. She'd always say we didn't know any couples well enough to ask about something like that."