Strangers in the Night
Chapter 1
Ellen Crump awoke to the insistent thrusting of a huge cock in her pussy. It slid effortlessly through her sopping wet sheath, sending thrills through her body. Her mature hips pumped back, burying it deep. Her guttural grunts punctuated the slap of his balls on her ass.
The fitted tattle grey sheets on the lumpy bed were wet with sweat and other bodily fluids. The paisley bedspread, chosen to hide cum stains more than for ambiance, was pushed to the foot of the bed.
At 62, Grace had a few cocks in her life. This one ranked up there with the fattest and longest. She wondered whose cock it was.
"Oh, God, yes! Harder! Harder!" A lustful moan escaped her lips. It competed with the wet sloshing of her pussy.
"Move this big ass, you good pussy bitch!"
"Yes, I'm your bitch! But is that the best you can do? Harder! Make my pussy pop!"
A Black man's hand squeezed her breast, the fingers pulling at her nipple. She groaned, reacting to the pain/pleasure sensation.
Her large hips pumped piston-like driving the big dick deep in her hole. The cock felt good. It was hard and thick, filling her sheath completely. She hissed as the bulbous head slammed into her cervix. Her pussy was sore. Not enough to be uncomfortable. But enough to let her know this was not the first time tonight she fucked. Nor was this the first cock. She remembered another, not as long but thicker. There was a pronounced soreness in her ass also.
It didn't matter. All that matter was Ellen's animalistic compulsion to satisfy the incredible need in her hole. She needed to be fucked, not made love to. She and her anonymous partner were as animals in rut. The act was instinctual. No thought was required
She climbed from drugged oblivion to a confused semi-consciousness. She looked into the face of a young Black woman. Someone was lying behind the Black woman fucking her. A white hand squeezed her chocolate jugs. The woman blew Ellen a kiss.
Who was this woman? She wondered who was fucking her and where she was. Other than the strong odor of disinfectant, the pitch-black room offered no clue.
The hand on her breast pulled hard on her nipple. She groaned and covered the mocha hand with her own. Her pussy sloshed noisily. The cock pumped harder. She pumped back hard. The feeling was indescribable. Her nether regions tingled. A tingling she had not experienced in years. That feeling occurred several times tonight. She was cumming. He was cumming! Again!
"Oh, fuck!"
She jumped, reacting to a hard slap on her thigh.
"Move your ass! I'm going to wear this old pussy out!" The voice was muffled, slurred.
"OH, JESUS! OH, GOD!" The dingy room blurred. She came hard, her pussy clamping down on the fat cock while her body undulated to the waves of the orgasm washing over her body. The cock, that delicious cock, swelled. Her cunt stretched to accept it. It released a seemingly endless stream of cum into her hole.
"YES! Fill me up! Make my pussy overflow with your seed!"
"Fuck! I'm cumming!" The muffled bass voice groaned. His body pumped hard against her. Ellen thrust back, burying him deep as they came together, moaning, grunting and cursing.
The room swam around her. She closed her eyes and passed out.
Chapter 2
The urgent complaint of a full bladder pulled Ellen from a drunken sleep. For a moment, she lay there, trying to resist the call of nature. Surrendering to the inevitable, she opened her eyes
The room spun slowly. It seemed to flow and reform, like oil swirls on water. The random movement nauseated her. Ellen closed her eyes again.
The brief glimpse she got revealed one thing: Grey dawn was breaking, and this was not her bedroom. Where in the fuck am I? She opened her eyes again.
Ellen's pussy and ass had an unfamiliar ache. Her head throbbed dully. Her mouth was dry. Her lips were gummy. Her body felt clammy and uncomfortable.
The place was a shit hole! The ceiling and walls were water stained. Strips of wallpaper hung from the wall. Suspicious black areas suggested mold.
She heard laughing voices, a man's bass, and a woman's contralto. A car door slammed. Suddenly bright headlights lit the room.
Ellen was stunned to see she was in a dingy motel room. Across from the bed was a window with the drapes open. What the fuck!
A lightly muscled arm encircled her waist. A soft hand cupped her breast. Startled and more than a little scared, she froze.
Who the fuck is in bed with me?
It was not her husband, Claude. His arms were soft; his hands calloused from years of hard work. The rigid pole of a cock pressed between her ass cheeks. She had a dim memory of fucking...someone. It was not her husband. He was off with his buddies on a weekend fishing trip. Besides, he had not gotten this hard in years.
Despite her confusion about where she was and how she got there, her bladder would not be denied. Ellen sat up in bed and swung her legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. The stentorian snores of her erstwhile sex partner competed with the brass band playing a stanza from the Anvil Chorus in her head.
The dim light streaming through the open window revealed the naked body of a White man. He lay on his belly, his face turned away from her.
The pounding in her head grew worse. The percussion section of the band added to her excruciating headache. Nausea returned. She swayed, reached out, and caught the wall with one hand to prevent herself from falling.
Where the fuck did he come from? How the hell did I get here?
Ellen Crump was not a woman who picked up strange men. She was a wife, mother, and grandmother. She did not fuck around. Yet here she was. Stark naked in a cheap motel with a strange man. With her pussy and bowels full of cum!
Her last clear memory was sitting in a bar having a drink with her grandson Kyle. No...no that was not right. Ellen did have a drink with Kyle. Then some guy bought her another.
How did I get there?
Vignettes, like stills from a movie, flashed in her mind. She tried to sort out the confusing images. However, her bladder demanded attention.
She brought one hand to her head. The other she extended in front of her and stumbled toward the open door of the bathroom. Inside the restroom, she fumbled for the light switch, found it and flipped it on.
The bright yellow light of the incandescent bulb assaulted her eyes, increasing her discomfort. Squinting, she scanned the bathroom. Putrid water-stained wallpaper covered the walls. The toilet was filthy with a cracked lid. A brown ring circled the inside of the toilet bowl. Next to it was face bowl with a crack that had been sloppily repaired with some kind of greyish material. A streak of rust extended down the sink from the dripping faucet. Off to one side was a grimy shower.
How the hell did I end up in this shithole?
Just before she closed the bathroom door, she looked at the naked figure in the bed. He was young. It was impossible to guess his age without seeing his face. However, his tight ass and lightly muscled body made him young.
Her dress was on the floor by the door. It lay crumpled in a pile next to a man's jeans and t-shirt. She didn't see her red bikini panties or bra. She did see some lacey black boy shorts. She stared at them dumbly.
Where the fuck did they come from?
A garish fuzzy image like an overexposed color photograph popped in her head. She was naked on her knees in front of the open motel door. She was sucking a cock. It was a nice size, filling her mouth comfortably. She recalled the sensation of the globular head pressing down her throat as she bobbed back and forth. One hand stroked the rigid rod while the other cupped and caressed balls the size of chicken eggs.
She was looking up, smiling at an indistinct face above her. His lips were moving. He was saying something. His voices seemed to be coming from a distance, but she could make out what he was saying.
"Suck my cock, bitch!" His voice sounded like an old 78 RPM vinyl record played at 45 RPM, very slow and hard to understand. His hands painfully gripped her head.
Her hands gripped his thighs as she pressed forward, forcing his cock down her throat. One of his hand was on her head. The other caressed her breast. His hips were thrusting. A moist heat wafted from between her legs.
His cock swelled. A stream of cum blasted Ellen's tonsils with the force of a firehose. She tried unsuccessfully to gulp down the torrent of jizz, but it was too much. She gagged, spewing a Niagara of saliva mixed with cum onto his crotch. It squirted out of the sides of her mouth and. When she pulled back, he sprayed her face and tits with cum, playing his dick over her face like a fireman putting out a fire.
She heard laughter. A naked Black man and a naked Black woman were next to her. The man was tall robust with a paunch. The woman was voluptuous with a large bubble butt and pendulous tits capped by blue-black raisin-like nipples.
The woman was sucking the man's enormous black dick. She pulled it from her mouth and offered it to Ellen. Her face dripping with cum, Ellen turned, kiss the Black woman on the lips and took the proffered cock. The corners of Ellen's mouth ached as it stretched to accommodate his shaft.
"She's good!" The Black man spoke to her anonymous lover standing next to him.
"I'll take care of your man while you take care of mine!" The Black woman crawled around her and took the semi-rigid White cock in her mouth. The women wrapped an arm around each other's waists as they sucked the cocks.
