Room 9 at Turnpike Hotel

A young man recalls when he lost his virginity at the hands of an older woman, who knew how to work him like putty; in a motel about to be bought and pulled down for development.

His odious boss who is buying the motel moralizes about the uses the motel was put to and tries to fleece the owner.

BUT... A little blackmail can fix things...

SAMPLE:
Mini Sales Sample or Samples:* The door to number nine swung open and I stepped over the threshold. The carpets had started to rot away and the furniture had been gratuitously smashed.

And again, suddenly I was just eighteen again.

"Is that you Richy?"

The room was austere with a black and white television. The bed was neat and clean as was the bedding, but it was still old and worn. The carpet was largely clean but stained in several places. Mrs Adams came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. Her hair was damp as she padded across the floor.

"Shut the door. You want us to become a side show?"

Numbly I pushed the door closed as Mrs Adams dropped the towel to the floor and leant over the bed to pull back the covers.
I remember seeing the mound between her legs as she leant forward, unashamed, unhurried. She sat on the bed and tossed her damp hair.

"You gonna take those off, or do you do it with your pants on?" then her face showed regret "I'm sorry honey. This isn't easy for you, is it?"

I mumbled in agreement.

"Come here Richy."

I shuffled to the bedside and stood before her. She took my hands and placed them over her breasts. Divorced, thirty-eight with children, yet her breasts were still firm and soft.

"You're eighteen, right Richy?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Cut the "ma'am" bit. Call me Chris."

She undid the belt and lowered my pants. I shuffled out of them removing my shoes and socks. I undid my shirt and her hands ran over my chest.

"Oh honey. I like 'em when they're eighteen."

Christine lowered the front of my shorts, taking out my hardened cock. I was glad she didn't look down and shame me, keeping her gaze on my face. Her hand skillfully played with my erection and my breath caught in my throat.

"You can take them off, son."

As I slid from my shorts and she stroked my cock slowly. Her hands were firm but gentle and I felt the blood pounding in my ears. She lowered her head and I felt a flash of shame as she looked at my cock. Her tongue licked the head and played around in circular motions. I realised my hands were now kneading those firm breasts. Her wet lips opened and she took me completely in her mouth.

"You taste good," she broke off and played with me a while longer. She smiled as she watched a series of new emotions cross my face. Standing up she placed her mouth over mine.

Sure, I had kissed a few girls, even French kissed - you know - tongues and everything! But this was different. Fuller, softer lips and a wet full tongue with a sensual pressing motion. Releasing her breasts I placed my hands behind her head, running my finger up through her hair, pulling her lips harder against mine.

I felt Christine raise one foot onto the bed and open herself up. She pulled at my cock and rubbed the head against her damp slit. My legs began to feel weak.