"I need a room for the rest of the night. One bed, double or bigger."
Lou huffed and cleared his throat, flipping up the ends of a couple twenties in his clip. His sausage link fingers handed the money over.
The motel clerk considered the middle-aged man without a word. Decent suit. Not great. Clean. Trimmed hair. His eyes cut over to the man's car. Older. Well-kept. Probably sentimental over it. Or too cheap to trade up. One passenger waited inside of it. A young man. Blond. Slender. No - delicate. That's what his wife would call it. The boy didn't look like he could be out of high school yet. The cigarette in the clerk's mouth shifted to the opposite corner of his lips while he studied the older man again. It was just business. And none of his own.
Lou took the key, walking back to his car to move it. Chris said nothing. He hadn't since the night's employer had unexpectedly picked him up from the sidewalk not a quarter mile from his house. The car stopped in the space in front of door twenty-two. Lou gave Chris the key, telling him to go inside while Lou went to the trunk.
The knob rattled loosely when Chris opened it. Inside, he immediately noticed the smell of stale smoke. The carpet might as well have been a stretch of muslin, as worn down and crushed as it looked. A small television sat on the end of a Fifties bureau, and not one of the more attractive designs. Cables streamed down the back, no attempt made to hide them. A brief, tattered list of films and start times lay next to the set. Chris was sure that it had been a long time since "Farmer's Daughters" or "Gone with the Skin" had stopped airing, but the feed that broadcast them was no doubt still serving up similar fare. Chris dropped the listing down and headed for the bathroom. Releiving himself gave him a moment to look the room over. All of the porcelain was clean. It was, however, best not to ponder whether the tile grout was black by design or neglect. Chris fastened the buttonfly and washed his hands, something he knew he'd be wanting to do a lot in this room.
His hands braced on the sink's edge. The room's front door opened and closed. Chris glanced behind himself at the closed bathroom door to listen. At least one paper bag was involved. He could hear Lou's quiet, sighed grunt. The one that usually meant things were going his way. Chris looked back to his reflection. He looked well enough. His short blond hair and long bangs clean and neat. No rough edges to his fingernails. The preparatory enema that had become a Thursday morning ritual over and done. Chris took the sides of his open shirt collar for an inspecting sniff. His skin smelled of nothing but fading soap and the detergent on his clothes. Chris had cologne, but had stopped wearing it completely more than two months ago. The last thing he wanted Lou thinking was that the boy put any special effort into their Thursdays.
With a slow sigh, Chris pushed himself upright. They were here for a purpose, after all. Maybe if the sex was hard enough, they could sleep through the rest of the night that much sooner. Chris opened the bathroom door. He found himself face-to-face with a large black lense at the other side of the queen bed's foot. Lou glanced up from the camcorder's viewpiece with a filthy smile.
"It's Thursday, August seventh, six forty-nine P.M. This pretty blond thing is my son - all night long. Say 'fuck me' for the camera, son."
Chris stood in the doorway, his arms folded.
"What is that?"
"It's a video camera. I want to record our, um, first night of real privacy."
"Whether I like it or not?"
"Exactly. I'm footing all the bills tonight, son. Now, if you want your tip, you'll do things my way."
"No condoms and cum stains inside my jeans? Yeah, real nice tip."
Lou set the running camera down next to the television. It recorded every movement as he strode to the bathroom door and strongly backhanded the boy across his mouth. The strike dropped Chris to the floor. Lou reached into his hip pocket, pulling out something jangling as he knelt next to Chris' body. The camera didn't pick up anything more than light ratcheting sounds from behind the blind of the bed's edge. Seconds later, the boy was picked up and tossed face-down on the covers. Chris' wrists were handcuffed behind his back.
Moments of grumbles and muttering echoed lowly in the room. Lou hastily unfastened and pulled Chris' jeans off, growling at his captive the whole time. The boy's shirt was a less delicate matter, with his arms largely immobilized. Lou merely ripped it to pieces. Chris lie naked on the stiff bedding within a minute. Lou began flat-palmed, heavy slaps across the boy's curvy backside. Every slap was chased by a rub and a grope of the flesh. Slap after slap. Mummbled threat after mummbled threat. By the time Lou shifted his position, Chris' delicate skin glowed a dark pink. The red outlines of thick fingers were still clearly visible. Lou stood up on his knees behind Chris' prone figure. He made a big reveal of unzipping his trousers and exposing himself to the lens. His smooth, circumsized cockhead traced up and down the hairless divide between Chris' reddened mounds. A wad of saliva aimed to fall against the tight young hole was all the concession Chris was going to get.
Screaming was not an option. Chris instead gave a restrained cry of pain as Lou shoved in without preamble. From the first, the thrusting was deep, steady, and fast. Lou ringed his fingers around the base of his shaft. He knelt on his left knee, braced with his leg up on his right foot. It allowed him to keep his thighs spread wide, so the camera wouldn't miss an instant of the forty-six-year-old penis repeatedly vanishing up into the eighteen-year-old boy. The burning and aching brought out Chris' growls and yelps. The boy looked up to the lens that glared back at him. The thought of others being shown Lou's conquest sooner or later crossed his thoughts, raising the heat of an embarassed blush to his face. Jumping right into bed, at least, would likely put an early end to the evening. They could both be home, lying to their respective families within the hour. Lou's wheezing began seconds later. Chris braced himself for the hot ooze on its way.
Lou pulled out of Chris and quickly crept up the boy's body to straddle his ribcage from over his back. One hand grabbed the back of Chris' soft hair, pulling enough for the camera to see the most of his feminine features, smooth and unmarred by puberty. Lou's other hand beat off on his erection feverishly. It took only seconds to summon a milky orgasm. Splashes and streaks of white sperm shot across the boy's cheeks and lips. Chris' mouth opened for a wordless gripe of protest. Lou seized the opportunity to shoot his last drops at the back of the boy's throat. The head and half the shaft pushed into Chris' mouth, stroking against his tongue. Lou sat upright on his knees over the boy, waiting for his breath to slow.
"You look right into that camera, and you lick up everything you can reach. Swallow every drop."
Chris did as ordered. His tongue stretched out to lick around his lips, and did his best to make the swallows audible. Lou's fingers scraped the rest of the semen together in areas, wiping them off of the boy's skin, then shoving his fingers into the young mouth for Chris to suck clean. The boy earned a slap on his cheek for his obedience, only half as strong as the one that had knocked him off his feet. His current possessor rolled the lithe boy onto his back.
Lou's hands held to the sides of the boy's neck, sliding up along under Chris' jaw, then travelling out to his shoulders. Sleazy massaging started everywhere Lou touched. He took slow delight in pinching the blond's pert nipples. Yanking them. Biting them. Sucking them red. Lou left the bed to stand on the floor, using the leverage to reposition the cuffed boy for his documentary. Chris soon sat with a leg to each side of the bed's corner, braced back on his joined arms. Lou's hand rubbed along the boy's stomach in long strokes. They trailed down Chris' thighs. Back up to the boy's crotch. Lou rubbed hard over the curly white hair encircling Chris' hooded penis. Always around it. Never fully touching another manhood. It was so much in keeping with Lou's usual style. To him, a gay boy was simply a girl with a dick and no chest. Pleasuring Chris by any means but anal sex was never on Lou's adgenda.
