In which Michael, Clarissa and Kate get to, uh, know each other better...
* * * * *
I stopped in my tracks just inside the door.
The hotel room was nice. Really nice. One room, but wow. Dark antique wooden furniture, expertly arranged. Thick oriental rugs on polished parqueted floors. Heavy tapestry draperies. Cut flowers in colorful porcelain jugs on the coffee table, the sideboard, the nightstand. Real oil paintings on the walls. Twin tobacco jar lamps glowed softly from matching tables on opposite sides of a beautifully carved, overstuffed sofa. I craned my neck, looking amazedly at the heavy plaster rococco moulding bordering a ten-foot ceiling. Gold leaf. It was dusted with gold leaf.
I gawked like a yokel. Motel 6 was more my style.
And then I saw the bed.
Huge, four-postered, canopied. Big fluffy pillows, crisp white sheets, glossy burgundy comforter. It matched the canopy. Naturally. The linens had been turned back, and there were chocolates on the pillows, individually wrapped in shiny gold foil. I was betting room service was killer.
I felt a sharp crack across my left buttock. I jumped.
"Jesus!" Michael snapped impatiently. "You gonna stand there and gape all night?"
Michael grabbed my arm and dragged me into the room. Kate followed, laughing, closing and locking the door behind her.
Releasing me, Michael walked over to the sofa, peeled off his jacket, and tossed it onto the cushions. He threw himself onto the couch and leaned back, stretching out his long legs and propping his booted feet on the coffee table. He took out his cigarettes, shook one out, and fired it up.
Kate followed. She knelt beside him, waiting.
Michael leaned over and fisted one hand in Kate's hair, jerking her head back..
"How about you suck my cock while Little Miss Braids gets me a drink?"
Kate lifted her chin defiantly and smiled. "How about you ask nicely?"
Michael sighed mightily and in one swift motion, released his hold on her hair and backhanded her. Hard. Michael sat back, watching her serenely. He took a deep drag from his cigarette and carefully blew a series of perfect, lazy smoke rings.
Kate remained on her knees, holding her injured cheek, head bent, trembling.
"Look at me, Kate," Michael said, gently.
Kate lowered her hand and stared at Michael with huge, tear-filled eyes. Her right cheek was a riot of flaming scarlet. Her beautiful chest heaved wildly. Her bravado had evaporated without a trace. But she didn't move.
Michael raised a dark brow."You wanna test me? 'Cause we can play that way. You think you're some tough cookie, don't you? Going to hotel rooms with guys you meet in bars. Real Cosmo Girl. Whatever. Not here ten minutes and you're already on your knees, crying." Michael leaned over and shoved one hand between Kate's parted thighs, pushing up the hem of her dress, trailing his fingers over her mons, caressing the swollen lips of her shaved pussy. He slipped one finger inside of her. Grinned.
"Gee whiz. Sopping wet. Fucking slut. Bet you'd come right now if I slapped you again, huh?" Michael laughed softly, sliding his finger slowly in and out of Kate's vagina. "I like the way you're wired, Katie, but you got to watch how you talk to me."
Michael withdrew his hand and shoved his finger into Kate's mouth. Kate gasped and shuddered, undeniably aroused, and sucked lovingly.
"Let's try again," Michael murmured. He pulled his finger from Kate's mouth and sat up, planting his feet flat on the floor, knees apart.
Kate nodded. Kneeling up, she positioned herself between Michael's thighs. With shaking hands she unbuckled Michael's belt, opened his jeans, and pulled his rigid cock from his boxers. Kate inclined her head and placed her lips gently on the head of Michael's erection, kissing it tenderly.
"Christ," Michael ground out, exasperated. "I said suck it, not kiss it! Whaddaya think this is, the freaking high school prom?"
Michael grabbed her hair once more, this time with both hands, and forced himself into her mouth, snapping his hips. "I just wanna fuck your mouth, honey, so open wide and say 'ah.' "
Michael turned to me. "You," he snapped. "I told you to get me a drink. Glasses and booze are on the sideboard. Try not to spill anything, huh?"
Dazed, I walked slowly to the sideboard, opened a heavy silver ice bucket, and extracted a handful of cubes. Dropping them into a short, heavy glass, I grabbed a bottle of bourbon from an impressive selection of ethanol, unscrewed the cap, and splashed a healthy dose over the ice.
I paused, considering Michael's sudden change in mood. There was nothing playful about him now. He seemed angry. Genuinely cruel. He'd hit Kate rather hard; she'd probably have a bruise tomorrow. She hadn't seemed to mind, though. It had, in fact, quite obviously turned her on.
I wondered, crazily, how I would react if Michael did the same to me, and was ashamed to feel the blood rush to my crotch. I knew, as surely as I was standing there, that I desperately wanted Michael to use me until it hurt.
"What the fuck are you doing over there, distilling the stuff?"
I jumped again, jarred from my reverie, and hurried over to Michael. I handed him the glass of bourbon and stood to one side, waiting. On the floor next to me, Kate sucked enthusiastically on Michael's cock, moaning as he stabbed his prick down her throat. I watched, wide-eyed, as she took him all the way in, expertly working her lips up and down his stiff shaft, tonguing the underside of his cock, stroking his balls with gentle, practiced fingers.
Without missing a beat, Michael took a long swallow of booze, put the glass down on the coffee table, and sighed contentedly.
"Clarissa," he ordered, "Here. Beside me."
I plopped down next to Michael. He grabbed my braids with both hands and pulled me to him, fastening his mouth on mine, kissing me hard. His lips were warm and soft. His tongue darted over mine, slippery and wicked. My body responded instantly. I leaned against him, feeling my nipples harden, my belly twitch, my breathing quicken.
Michael cupped one hand around my breast and rubbed his thumb over the nipple. I moaned, pushing myself against him, wanting more.
"Get down there and help her," Michael murmured into my mouth.
I knew better than to hesitate. I slid off of the sofa and onto my knees.
Kate paused, lifting her lips from Michael's cock, and, leaning over, kissed me. Her mouth was sweet and hot. I could taste Michael on her, and I gasped as her tongue found mine and nudged it gently. Her soft hair brushed my neck, raising deliciously shivery goosebumps along my arms and thighs. I could feel heat and raw desire radiating from Kate's flesh like a sunburn.
Kate broke the kiss, inclined her head, and placed her lips on the head of Michael's cock, swirling her tongue in slippery, wet circles. Following her lead, I leaned over and licked the shaft, slowly, up and down, cradling Michael's balls in my hand, massaging them with my fingertips.
"Work it, Katie," Michael murmured. "I wanna feel your fuckin' tonsils. You," he ordered me. "Suck my balls. And watch your teeth."
I shifted, allowing Kate better access to Michael's cock, and bent low, taking Michael's scrotum gently into my mouth.
I licked for all I was worth, loving the velvety feel of his skin against my tongue, the taste of him. I strained to watch as Kate swallowed Michael's cock. She moaned softly as she sucked, taking it all the way down her throat, up and down, in and out, pausing every so often to tongue the head and glans. Her nimble lips caressed Michael's cock, coating it with a sweet, glistening mixture of her saliva and his pre-come.
