Fang of Control - chapter 5 - Sex Stories

Fang of Control - chapter 5

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I drove south on highway 95, through Baltimore, Washington, Richmond, and stopped in Nashville. Lots of people don’t know there’s a Nashville in North Carolina, not just the country music capitol in Tennessee. I had planned to stop in Smithfield or Selma but was too tired to make it that far.

I pulled into a truck stop and took the necklace from my pocket. I knew I’d feel the urgent need to hibernate again, but it would give me the energy to stay awake long enough to find a motel and get a room. After fueling up, I followed what was starting to be a tradition. I went in the truck stop convenience store and bought all the sausage sticks and beef jerky they had. I didn’t feel the powerful terror I’d had about winter earlier, just a mild fear.

Luckily there was a motel only a few blocks away. I walked in the motel office, dead tired and desperate for a room. The lady behind the counter stopped crying long enough to say, “I’m really sorry, but we have no vacancy. All rooms are booked for the night.”

I opened my jacket so she could see the necklace and smiled at her. “Are you sure? Could you check again?”

She looked at the computer screen, though she knew what it would show. “All the rooms are full. But … um … maybe you could stay with me?”

Once I had accommodation taken care of, I asked, “Why were you crying? What’s wrong?”

“My husband left me! He ran off with some little college slut!” Her tears started flowing again.

I asked, “How many people do you ...

... still need to check in?”

“Just one. Everybody else has their keys already.”

I walked behind the counter and put a hand on her hip. “How about you show me where I can get a nap, then you wake me up for some hot sex when the last one is taken care of?”

She grabbed my shoulders, stood on tiptoe, and thrust her tongue into my mouth. I held her face in my hands as I leaned down a little and kissed her back. I slowly moved my hands down and squeezed her breasts, continuing the long, wet kiss. She moved a hand to the front of my jeans.

The door opened and somebody cleared their throat. We kept kissing a good five seconds and she rubbed my stiffening rod through my jeans until I moved away. She was beet red and quite flustered. “Um, hi. Hello. Sorry.”

The man grumpily said, “We booked a room with a rollout bed for our son.”

“Oh. Mr. Thompson, sure. It’s $49 for the room, and 10 more for the extra bed. You’re in room 31. Here’s your key.”

Once the man, his wife, and their little boy walked out; she locked the office door. She tugged on my hand and briskly started walking through the office’s back door. “My bedroom is this way. Get your clothes off!”

Just from her scent, I could tell she had been sexually deprived a long time. As we stripped, her aroma told me her body was desperate to have an orgasm, and a baby. She was about to ovulate and hadn’t had any sex in months.

She was average-looking, but my nose inspired me to new sexual heights. She was still ...