It Happened at the White House

I was traveling west from Richmond on US 250 when the motor in my Lincoln MKZ started to knock. I was almost to Charlottesville and the sun was going down, so I decided to get a room for the night and see about fixing the problem in the morning. As I crested the hill overlooking the east side of town, I saw it on the right: the White House Motel. Its two dozen rooms, built of brick with white gingerbread trim, were arranged neatly around a swimming pool. It was the kind of motel that a family visiting Monticello might favor, so I parked in front of the office and went inside, anticipating a quiet stay in one of those neat-looking rooms.

Instead, Number 35 was in the back on the end, according to the elderly gentleman working the desk. As I drove around, I saw that my room was in a building separate from the main one and, though it looked to be of newer construction, it was considerably more run down. In fact, it looked more like a "no-tell motel," which I prefer to avoid when I travel, and I thought about going back to the office and asking for a refund. Instead, I decided, what the heck, it's probably not that bad, so I parked in front of the room, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.

Then I noticed that the curtain was drawn. That's usually a sign that a room is occupied, or that the maid hadn't made it up yet. However, there were no other cars in sight, so I turned the key and opened the door, half expecting to have to go back to the office and get the old guy on duty to give me a room that was clean.

Lo and behold, Number 35 was indeed occupied. On the double bed closer to the door, just in front of me and to my left, were a man and a woman. He was lying on a threadbare beige bedspread on his back with his bare legs dangling over the foot of the bed. I couldn't see him very well; in fact, the only part of him I could see, other than his legs, were a pair of hairy testicles and a swollen cock.

The woman was buck naked and on her hands and knees, straddling him. She had the half-muscular, half-flabby build of a woman in her early fifties who has always worked hard for a living; on the worn tan carpet lay a crumpled, grease-stained, orange and white polyester smock and matching skirt that suggested she might be a waitress. Her head hung low so her face was covered by her shoulder-length hair; it was dirty blonde, but gray roots were clearly visible. A tattoo of a heart wrapped in barbed wire graced her left ankle. Her left butt cheek sported another tattoo, an amateurish rendition of the Rolling Stones' logo, the one with the thick, red lips and the lascivious tongue. Her melon-sized left breast swayed to and fro like a fleshy pendulum, its nipple grazing the man's chest, as she humped her hairy pussy on his stiff prick.

For several seconds, I stood watching them as they fucked without paying me the slightest bit of attention. I wondered if they even knew I was there. But when I picked up my bag and, muttering an apology, turned to go, the woman gazed back at me over her left shoulder. Her brown eyes smoldered with depraved desire, and the look on her face betrayed not the first trace of embarrassment at being caught flagrante delicto. Instead of screaming hysterically for me to go away, she grunted, in a drawl that I could barely understand, something that sounded vaguely like "Come in, shut the door, and get in behind me." Then, as if to make sure there was no misunderstanding what she wanted me to do, she spanked her plump but firm fanny hard, right on the spot where the lips-and-tongue tattoo was, and then pulled on her left cheek so as to afford me a better view of her rosy brown fundament.

I dropped my bag, shut the door, and got in behind her. But before joining the action, I decided to enjoy, up close and personal, the spectacle of their shameless frolic. I knelt between his legs, my nose so close to his cock that I could smell the sweat glistening on his balls, the mucus oozing from her cunt, and the gamey aroma wafting from their assholes. Her labia were so loose, and his penis was so thick, that when she rocked forward as far as she could go, her pussy lips were stretched out for a good two inches along his cock. Then, when she thrust her pelvis back so as to bury that big piece of meat up to the hilt in her fat cunt, her anus winked at me as if it longed to be raped by a big dick.

I wet my middle finger with saliva and placed the fingertip so that it just barely touched the woman's asshole. Instead of thrusting it in, I moved it back and forth in time with her motion, each time allowing her to work a little bit more of it into her nether hole. Sure enough, after a dozen or so thrusts of her sweaty backside, her sphincter had relaxed enough so that both knuckles were buried in her ass. I wiggled it around in her rectum until it was wide enough to accommodate my index finger as well.

The more I probed her butt with my fingers, the more guttural were the sounds emanating from her throat. At last, she could take no more of my anal teasing and she grunted, in that incoherent drawl of hers, something that sounded like "Fuck my ass with your cock, you something or other!" I dropped my pants, licked my left palm until it was good and wet, and slicked up my rock-hard five inches of manhood. Then, as I had with my finger, I placed my cock at the entrance of her fundament and let her rock back on it so that she took it in, slowly but surely, inch by inch, until it had bottomed out in her bottom.

After letting her do all the work for a few minutes, I grabbed her love handles and began to fuck her ass with a vengeance. I positioned myself so that, when she had thrust herself back as far as she could go and the man's prick was all the way in her pussy, just the tip of my prick was snug inside her sphincter. Then I pulled her towards me and rammed forward, filling her rectum with every centimeter of my pride and joy. When I had driven her forward so that only the man's glans was inside her pussy, I pulled her ass back towards me until the man's dick was all the way inside her again. Then I backed out and rammed her again.

We fucked like this for who knows how long and, oh, how she thrashed about on our swollen cocks, grunting and cursing the whole time! Sometimes, she would hang her head and moan, somewhat piteously, while we plundered her cunt and ass without mercy. Other times, she would throw back her head and howl with abandon like a wolf baying at the full moon. All the while, I thrilled to the velvety feel of her rectum as it slithered up and down my dick. The feeling of the man's penis rubbing against mine through the thin membrane that separated her two fuckholes thrilled me as well.

I fought off my orgasm for as long as possible, but eventually there was no way I could keep from cumming. I shot my load deep in her ass, but still a little spurted onto her naked backside when I pulled out. As I did, I could hear the man shout out his orgasm as well. The woman, of course, had climaxed a dozen times or more, judging from the banshee-like shrieks of ecstasy that had serenaded us from the beginning of our three-way fuck.

I lay on top of her for a few moments, my spent dick sandwiched between her fleshy buns. Drops of my sperm dribbled out and ran down the crack of her ass until they mingled with the man's cum dripping out of her cunt. Then, as the two of them lay panting in each other's sweaty embrace, I pulled up my pants, picked up my bag, shut the door, and headed back to the office to get another room.