A Bloody Crazy Nigt from the book "Room 222"

A Bloody Crazy Nigt from the book "Room 222"

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

Summary

This short story is from "Room 222", a collection of short, erotic stories about eclectic characters and sexual situations, all taking place in the same room of a run down motel. Available soon on Amazon/Kindle.

A Bloody Crazy Night – Tomika knew Lenny hadn’t really done anything wrong. She was just feeling schitzo. The way she kept flipping on him, he probably wished he’d never taken her out. Whatever. Maybe he should be more careful about bringing strange women to cheap motels.

visit www.lusciouslee.com for more from this author

Summary

This short story is from "Room 222", a collection of short, erotic stories about eclectic characters and sexual situations, all taking place in the same room of a run down motel. Available soon on Amazon/Kindle.

A Bloody Crazy Night – Tomika knew Lenny hadn’t really done anything wrong. She was just feeling schitzo. The way she kept flipping on him, he probably wished he’d never taken her out. Whatever. Maybe he should be more careful about bringing strange women to cheap motels.

visit www.lusciouslee.com for more from this author

Content

Submitted: March 20, 2017

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Content

Submitted: March 20, 2017

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A Bloody Crazy Night

 

I shivered and tried to pull further into my jacket, flipping my micros out of my collar so they spread down my back, warming my neck. The little lobby of the shabby motel was at least partially enclosed, so I was no longer having to deal with the wind-chill factor. That wind felt like it was cutting right through me, slicing up my bones and freezing my tears on my eye balls.

The lobby was only a little better, though. The clerks working behind the desk had on no coats and looked comfortable enough, so I figured they must have had a space heater someplace behind the desk. But the heat it kicked out didn’t reach the rest of the space, at least not where I stood.

Lenny was wasting time, bullshitting with the girl who was supposed to be checking us in. He’d already told me he’d been to this place before, so I guessed he knew her.

He still kept checking for me over his shoulder, to see how I was reacting. Which was stupid— if he thought Miss Tomika was going to be stressing herself out about little bullshit like that, then he clearly didn’t know me.  He was not my man, so why would I care if he flirted with this girl?

I wasn’t the jealous type anyway, but Lenny didn’t really know me well enough to know that. I was there with him at a motel just three days after meeting him on a dating website[TJ1] , so I thought he could have figured that out. He meant no more to me than I meant to him.

The only reason I’d agreed to be there was because it had gotten so cold, the trains stopped running for the night. Neither of us had a car, and we were stranded without public transportation.

It was my fault, in a way. I was the one who’d called him and begged and pleaded and whined until he agreed to take me to see Tyler Perry’s version of For Colored Girls. I’d wanted to see it on opening day because I knew everybody would be talking about it on Monday. If you don’t see the movies when they first come out, you can’t help but get the whole movie told to you before you have a chance to see it for yourself.

I wasn’t the type to rush out and see every movie that came out. Shit, there were so many, I don’t know how Tyler can keep up with them all. But I’d seen Colored Girls[TJ2]  as a play when I was a girl, and my mother had bought the VCR copy as soon as it had been available. By the third grade, I’d known the Green Lady’s speech by heart.

Lenny had tried to tell me it was too cold to go to the movie, that it was playing too far away from the area he lived in and the downtown hotel where I was staying. I was in town for business, which is how I came to meet Lenny in the first place. I traveled a lot for work, which I didn’t mind after my kids were grown and out of the house and my ex and I broke up. I was determined to enjoy being free for the first time in my life, and I liked being able to travel on someone else’s money and have them pay me for it too. What could be better than that?

Whenever I knew I’d be in a new city for a while, I usually checked out the local folks on my favorite dating website[TJ3] . It helped me to learn the new city better, and not be stuck in the office all day and the hotel room all night.

Yes, since he lived there, I should have listened to Lenny when he told me it was a bad idea to go out. But where I lived, it never got this cold this early in the year. And I didn’t have to make such a journey just to see a simple movie. I just didn’t understand.

But Lenny did, and he should have been more forceful. I didn’t make[TJ4]  the man take me, after all. So what if I pouted and whined? He didn’t even know me like that. I hate weak men who fall for the ridiculousness and then blame me when things don’t come out right. No, I didn’t feel responsible for us being stranded, even if it was my idea. Lenny should have told me “no” and meant it.

Regardless of whose fault it was, we were well and truly stuck. I had no choice but to trust Lenny to get me through this in order to see another day.

He’d suggested we get off the train when it had stopped, and had said he was going to call a friend to come get us. The friend said he’d try, but he couldn’t get through the storm any more than the trains or buses could.

It was only after convincing me that there was no choice that Lenny got me to agree to come to the run-down motel that sat at the back of an equally run-down strip mall. The neighborhood looked worse than the building he’d led me in to, and the only thing that seemed worse to me than staying here was to be wandering around the area waiting to be robbed or killed.

Lenny finally finished flirting with the girl and got the key. We went up to the room without a word. He did make a move to embrace me in the elevator, probably to warm me up. But the look I gave him made him think better of it, and took the admittedly sexy grin off his face.

He probably thought I was mad about the check-in girl, but I really wasn’t. The truth was I didn’t fully understand myself why I was in such a funky mood[TJ5] . I was just cold and frustrated about being stranded, and I truly hated the idea of staying the night where we were when I had a perfectly nice hotel room waiting for me downtown. And I was irritated with myself for once again settling for a man who had nothing to offer. Not even a car.

The movie had affected me like that. I hadn’t expected to feel so many emotions while watching it. No offense[TJ6]  to Tyler Perry, I have certainly contributed to the Lionsgate entertainment empire, but who goes to those movies to think? Well, I’d heard some people say they could relate so much to the stories[TJ7]  he presents, that it was like seeing themselves on the screen. But I’d never been one of them. I went to laugh, with the characters sometimes but often at them. It was like watching The Jerry Springer Show; whether I wanted to admit it or not, I watched that shit in order to feel better about myself.

But with this new movie, I felt like I was watching my own life. There were a few scenes that I'd lived exactly. I'd totally gone through a period of checking my ex's closets and drawers to make sure he hadn't moved out while I was at work.

I had a close friend who was in an abusive relationship, and she wouldn’t admit it but we all knew he hit her older kids who were not his. He never touched his own son or daughter, but her older two acted way too differently when Jerome was around for there not to be something going on. I wanted her to see the movie too, before Shanika and Tariq ended up dangling out of a window.

And my sister’s so-called boyfriend had always pinged my gaydar. True enough, I loved gay men and hung out at gay bars all the time. The energy of it, the bitchiness of the men, the beauty of some of the drag queens—it was just so much fun. But I didn’t want to fuck them, and the fact that they didn’t want to do me either was part of the freedom of hanging out with them.

My sister just couldn’t see it though. Nobody could tell her that Wayne was, at the very least, bi. Nothing could sway her opinion, not the way he walked, the times he slipped up and let his natural lisp show through, or even the fact that he dressed and groomed so much better than she ever did. She wanted a man so badly, nothing short of her actually seeing that man fucking another man in her bed would get to her.

I thought the movie had made Lenny uncomfortable. He was the only man in the theater, and he had gotten a few dirty looks as the movie progressed. You could definitely feel the energy humming in that room, which had been about ninety percent Black women despite the inconvenient location.

So I guess that’s why he’d started showing out. He became the person in the movie who had to shout out stupid shit at inappropriate times. Sometimes he was funny, but most of the time he was just irritating. A few of the women closest to us even shushed him right out loud, and I tried to move a bit over in my seat so it wasn't so obvious we were together.

So poor Lenny was leading a freezing, angry, half-way crazy woman he barely knew into a shabby motel room in the middle of the night. He had to know this was not going to be a good night for him.

Incredibly, he didn’t get that. Or maybe he thought, what the hell? He was already there and he’d made a sacrifice for me by taking me to see the stupid movie. From his perspective, it was probably a big deal for him to have allowed himself to be the only man in the movie theater with all of those angry Black women. He was probably scared by the time we had to leave. He’d certainly made sure we were among the first to get up and out.

Oh, bullshit. I had to laugh at myself. This was me putting my thoughts in this man’s head. Lenny just wanted some pussy, plain and simple. And before I’d seen the movie, he would have gotten it, no problem. We’d both known what it was when I’d convinced him [TJ8] to take me to the movie.

But after what I’d seen and everything that happened afterward, my mood was totally blown. We weren’t at my hotel room, where I always made sure to have condoms packed in my luggage. I may not have known him long, but Lenny and I had talked about protection. He’d said he didn’t like condoms, and I agreed that very few people did. But we would like AIDS even less, so he’d agreed to wear one.

I should have grabbed a few rubbers and put them in my purse, but it had never occurred to me that we wouldn’t make it back to my room. So I had none on me, and I knew he wouldn’t since he didn’t even like to use them.

It was just another complication in an already complicated night. And once I went to the suspect little bathroom and saw the tell-tale stain in my panties, I was convinced this was just not supposed to be our night. Obviously, the universe didn’t want me to sleep with Lenny, and that was not my fault.

So by the time I walked out of the bathroom, with a tampon firmly placed where he hoped to be, I just expected to sleep. No, I hadn’t told him what happened while I was in there, but I knew. I guess I just expected him to know it was a bust as well.

But he couldn’t actually read my mind, which is always so tiresome. Wouldn’t life be easier if they could? Why did I have to explain everything to these men? Why couldn’t they just look at me and know?

Lenny had already stripped down to his boxers and was watching TV while laid[TJ9]  out on top of the ugly comforter. I was still cold and wanted to be under the covers, but of course I hadn’t brought anything to change into. The outfit I’d picked to wear to the movies was tight and uncomfortable, as was my push-up bra. The matching panties were too lacy and skimpy for me to feel comfortable parading around in, considering my current situation. I’ve been bleeding heavily lately, so I had to provide a little extra protection for my pretty little undies.  It’s better than the alternative, but I’m aware there’s nothing sexy about seeing any kind of panty liner[TJ10]  hanging over the side of some lacy panties. And I didn’t know this man like that—it wasn’t like he was my husband and should have to go through this monthly misery with me as the toll for using my body any other time.

The plan I came up with was to take off the tight pants and bra, and just leave on the underwear and my sweater. The sweater was kind of long, and the ribbed band at the bottom would easily cover my hips. The only problem I could see was that it was some kind of wool blend, so it was a bit scratchy.

Lenny watched silently while I unhooked the bra under my sweater, and then eased the straps down my arms underneath each sleeve. I’d definitely done that before, and in much more restricted spaces. I was able to pull the bra out the left sleeve with no problem. Still, he looked impressed.

I sat on the bed and eased the jeans off. It wasn’t easy because they were tight, and I didn’t want to have to stand up in front of him to wriggle them off my hips like I usually did. I could feel him laughing at my back as I grunted and pulled, but I did get them over my ass while I was practically sitting on them, and then peeled the jeans down my thighs and calves until I finally got them over my poor freezing feet. I left the socks on though, even though they were all these crazy colors and had random shapes on them. I’d never meant for anybody to see them since I’d worn boots. The socks were ugly, yes, but warm.

After all that was accomplished, I smoothed my sweater more firmly over my behind and finally slid between the sheets. Seeing me do that, Lenny did the same. We weren’t even using our words by this point, just communicating by looks and gestures.

My look clearly asked him what he thought he was doing. His answer was just as clear—oh, I can’t even get under the covers?

I shook my head, but also shrugged my shoulders. I supposed he could get comfortable under the covers. After all, the man would have been safe and warm and comfortable in his own bed if he hadn’t come out into the freezing weather to accommodate me. What kind of bitch would I have to be to not even let him get a little warm?

Besides, it was a big bed, so I didn’t see why he needed to be on my side of it. But that was the first place he headed, scooting up to me and putting his cold, bare feet on my legs. That shit would not have been okay even in the best of circumstances, which we definitely did not have.  It earned him another look, and he removed is feet. But then his hands were suddenly on my stomach, making the sweater pull a bit tighter and scratch my already sensitive nipples.[TJ11] 

The sensation wasn’t entirely pleasant, but it was so unexpected and strong it made me smile anyway. Seeing that, Lenny relaxed his head on my shoulder and took a chance. He rubbed my breast a little bit over the scratchy sweater.

This time I was ready for it, and since he wasn’t directly on my nipple, the feel of his warm hands through the wooly fabric was actually pretty good. My smile got a bit broader and I let myself enjoy the attention.

After all, why did this have to be all or nothing? I reminded myself that there were other things a man and woman could do to each other in bed that didn’t have to end up in full-blown fucking. Why not just enjoy the feel of his hands on my body? Maybe kiss a little bit, do some dry humping and grinding.

What did we used to call that back in high school? Oh yeah, making out. I hadn’t done that, and just that, in years. My period would be enough to make sure it didn’t go any further than that, even if we were two grown-ass people in a motel room.

So I let Lenny[TJ12]  kiss me. But the stray thought about high school make-out sessions had brought back thoughts of my ex. The one I’d had to check up on just like she did in the movie after he moved in with me like he was doing me a favor. Dude had no job and brought little-to-nothing to the table but a big dick and a strong back. But he had me so twisted at the time that I'd literally come home from work and if he wasn't there, I'd go right up to the room I allowed him to share with me and make sure his clothes and underwear were still in the drawers.

He had nowhere else to go, I knew that now. But back then, I was convinced he’d disappear if I didn’t keep my eye on him.

This brought my mind back to the movie in general and, of course, totally killed my mood.

Lenny was still kissing me, touching me, just like I’d invited him to. But what felt good to me in one second now felt like a violation. Just like that. Totally irrational, but it was what I felt, not what I thought.

I didn’t exactly push him off of me, but I did stop participating. He felt the change, and looked up at me.

“What now?” he demanded. And I could see he was irritated. Good. I was irritated too, so it seemed only right that he should feel some kind of way.[TJ13] 

I couldn’t answer him because I didn’t know how to[TJ14] . How was I supposed to explain things to him that didn’t make sense even to myself? I wanted him to touch me but I also didn’t want him to put his hands on me, all at the same time.

“Do you ever treat women like that?” I asked him out of the blue. “The way those men in the movie acted . . . do you do that?”

He sighed heavily and turned back to the TV. He’d never turned it off, just muted it. Now he turned the volume back on, not too loud but loud enough to distract him from my foolishness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said to me but looking at the television. He tried to sound bored and disinterested so I would feel stupid and let the whole thing go.

But I couldn’t let it go. I was aware I was acting crazy, but crazy was all I had to offer him in the moment. If he couldn’t handle that, he shouldn’t take strange women to motel rooms.

“I mean, have you ever beaten a woman? Raped one?” It occurred to me that it was a fine time to ask this man that question, while I was sitting up in bed, half naked, clearly annoying him. But oh well. I was already there now.

He didn’t really answer those questions, and I just kept right on. “Have you ever been with a man?”

That did earn me a look, but he still didn’t answer. He just glared at me and turned the TV up a notch. Cops was on, but I hadn’t heard what city they were in. It didn’t much matter anyway. Those shows always looked the same to me. The only time I’d liked to watch was during the theme song and when they were in my own hometown. I had actually seen some people I’d grown up with on the show more than once, and it was almost like knowing a movie star whenever it happened.[TJ15] 

“Fine,” I said when he still wouldn’t answer me. “See, this is why men and women can’t get along. You all won’t communicate.”

“No, men and women can’t get along because you bitches are moody and crazy,” he said softly, still pretending not to look at me.

“What did you say?” I said with a warning in my tone. I wasn’t sure if he would repeat it, and I didn’t know if I wanted him to or not. I hadn’t gone out with the intention of fighting, and he hadn’t really done anything to me on purpose. I knew that. But I still wanted a fight anyway.

Maybe he knew that, because he didn’t take the bait. Instead, he sighed again and said, “Just go to sleep, Tomica[TJ16] . Leave me alone, alright[TJ17] ? I mean it, now. Good night.”

He said it like he really did mean it too. I didn’t have anything more to say anyway, so I decided to just do what he said.

But first I sat up again, throwing my legs on the side of the bed. I usually wore a satin sleep cap to bed to protect my braids [TJ18] from getting caught under my body or getting frizzy while I slept. Obviously, since I hadn’t expected to be sleeping out, I didn’t have it with me. But I could at least take the micros and make a big braid at the back of my head so they wouldn’t be all over the place in the morning.

I started the braid with my back to Lenny. For all I knew, he was still looking at his stupid show on the TV. But when I got to the point where I couldn’t easily reach far enough to finish the braid, just as I was preparing to flick it over my shoulder so I could complete the task, I felt his hands reach out for my hair. I moved my hands and he finished the braid for me, even handing it back to me so I could tuck it under into a bun at the back of my neck.

He didn’t’ say anything, but I did thank him out loud. He said I was welcome.

I finally lay down and snapped off the lamp by my side of the bed. That left the flickering light from the TV as the only light in the room, although we could see the light that was kept on over the pool outside our balcony.

I guess I dozed off. I wasn’t sure for how long since the clock was not on my side of the bed. All I know is that I became aware of his hands on me again, rubbing my skin under my sweater. And it felt nice; having him touch me felt so right. Tears formed in my eyes, but I wasn’t going to cry. Not the sobbing kind of crying, but the few tears that leaked out were enough to loosen that tightness in my throat.

If he saw them, he didn’t say anything.

I imagined he’d chalk it up to one more sign that I was just a crazy woman.

I turned to him, and we began to kiss. Softly at first, then he added some tongue. He tasted like a smoker, although I hadn’t seen him light one up. I smoked a little weed every now and again, but I’ve never liked cigarettes. If this ever went anywhere, we’d have to work on that.

While I was thinking about how to fix his problem, he continued to explore my body. Now that I was shifted to face him, he had more access to my breasts. He kneaded them both, and played with my nipples a bit. I felt them harden again, and not from the cold this time.

“Take it off,” he said against my mouth. So I sat up a bit and took the sweater off, throwing it on the side of the bed in the general direction of my discarded bra. I wear a D-cup, but most people are surprised by that because I’m fairly tall and thick. It’s only when my tits are free to swing that you get the full idea of how big they are.

I could see that he liked that, and he got to work on them, laying me on my back so he could lean over me to suck them. Men always liked to suck on my titties. I guess I attracted those whose mothers breast-fed them too long or something.

Luckily for me, I liked having my breasts suckled. Maybe that’s why I never breast-fed any of my babies. To me, having somebody’s lips on my nipples always seemed sexual. I know that’s not what they are for, that the breasts’ natural function is to give nourishment to your children. But that’s where my mind goes. It would have freaked me out to have my baby girl nursing on me and to feel that pull in my pussy when she did so.

But I enjoyed the pulsing that Lenny was making me feel, and knew I was probably wet. Of course, the tampon would never let that show, so it was kind of a waste. Since we were not likely to go any further, I let Lenny suck on my tits all he wanted, throwing my arms open in invitation.

I’m not a selfish lover ordinarily, and it felt weird that I wasn’t doing more for him. But I really do try to get to know a man’s habits before I’m willing to blow him, and we had just met. If I couldn’t give him any pussy, it seemed to me it would just be selfish to get him all hard when all I could offer him was a hand job.

Once again, he couldn’t read my mind though. After a few minutes of excellent breast play, he took my hand and brought it down between his legs. I almost snatched it back, but I kind of wanted to know what he was working with for future reference.

He was nice, just long enough and big enough around that I really hated the fact that it was the wrong day of the month. I would have totally loved to give him some pussy if I could, and later on when it was appropriate I would blow his brains out.

Even though I knew it wouldn’t be enough, I tried to jack him off real quick so he wouldn’t feel cheated. I even reached over and grabbed some lotion from my purse to make it more slippery for him. Unfortunately, I had just picked up a peppermint lotion from Bath and Body Works, and I think he could feel the sting when I first rubbed it on his shaft. He jumped, but then settled in as I kept rubbing my hand up and down his dick. So maybe it felt good. I made a mental note to ask him afterward; maybe that would be my new signature move.

While I played with his dick, he decided to move down to return the favor. I was so into the effect of the peppermint lotion, I wasn’t paying proper attention. Before I could stop him—warn him—he’d already arrived at my opening and felt the string for himself.

This time, he was the one who broke the mood.

“What’s going on?” he asked me stupidly.

“Pretty much what you think,” I answered him. “Sorry, I didn’t know until we got here.”

I wasn’t sure he believed me. He wasn’t sure he believed me either. “So were you going to tell me? What are you getting me all hard and ready for if it’s already occupied?”

His attitude woke up my already stank attitude, which had been pacified by the pleasure my body was feeling. I reminded him that I’d gone to sleep, as instructed. He was the one starting shit, violating my personal space while I wasn’t even able to give consent.

“But you felt good, so I was willing to let that go. And I’m willing to do what I can for you. But no, we can’t fuck this night.”

“Well,” he said slowly, finally learning to just ignore my little outbursts. “We can’t fuck your pussy. But you do have other holes.”

“I’m not sucking your dick either[TJ19] . It’s my hand or nothing,” I told him flatly.

“I wasn’t asking you to blow me. I’m saying, there are two holes between your legs. You only have one of them blocked. What about the other?”

So he was asking me if he could fuck me in the ass. It took me a minute to catch on because I’d never done it before. But I had been thinking about it ever since my daughter’s gay best friend got drunk one night and was telling us all about it. He said there is a pleasure center up there that feels great when it’s stimulated. “I’m not saying that’s how we orgasm. My penis works just fine. But being on the bottom is not what people think it is. Done right, the shit feels good.”

That had gotten me curious and I’d wanted to ask him if it was true for women as well as men. But my daughter had already been horrified that he’d said all that in front of me, so I let the subject drop. My kid is so uptight—she got that from her father.

I’d already figured out that the only way to see if I’d feel pleasure being penetrated anally was to try it. And Lenny was offering me the chance.

“Maybe,” I told him carefully. “But this is not something I’ve done before. You’d have to be slow and careful. If I don’t like it, do you promise to stop?”

He said of course, and I put the sheet back on us. Lying on my side, I slipped down my panties under the cover and left them there. I didn’t think there was any leakage; it had only been a few hours and it was the first day, but still . . . accidents happen. Nobody needed to see that shit; it was a turn-off even to me.

Lenny eagerly got behind me in spoon position. I thought he was going to just try to put his dick in my ass first thing, and was going to ask him about lube. But that wasn’t his plan.

Instead, he reached around my body and played with my clit. I noticed he was careful to avoid the string, so I tucked it more fully between my folds. His thumbs on my clitoris felt delicious, and I knew I was soaking the tampon with my juices.

Once he had me moaning, he moved one hand to the back of my body. He spread my ass cheeks a bit and gradually worked one finger into my anus. He did it by wriggling it around and around the tight hole, almost screwing his finger into my butt.

I kept waiting for it to hurt, but it didn’t really. It was only one finger—I had turds bigger than that come out so I guess it made sense that it wouldn’t hurt to have something the size of a finger go in.

But I’d felt his dick, and I knew it wasn’t the size of a finger. And it was going to be hard, not soft like a turd.

I knew enough to know this wasn’t going to be good for me if I got all tense, so I tried to think of something more pleasant than having his big dick shoved into my ass without lubrication.

“What about a condom?” I blurted out. After all, I reasoned, a lot of condoms had lubricant on them.

But he said he didn’t have a condom. Completely missing my meaning, he just assured me that I couldn’t get pregnant from anal sex, and besides, I couldn’t get pregnant while I was on my period anyway. “Don’t worry, baby. This is really the safest way to do this.”

Right, I thought. That’s why gay men are so happy and healthy and fit.[TJ20] 

But he looked healthy to me[TJ21] , otherwise I wouldn’t be in the bed with him. I knew it was a risk, despite the dumb shit he'd said out of his mouth. But I was right on the verge of my new sexual experience, totally unexpectedly. I never regret the things I do, only the things I don't do. If I didn't go through with it, I knew I'd be thinking about what it would have been like forever.

So I just backed up my booty a little more, giving him better access. He took that for the permission that it was, and removed the one finger only to put in two.

That was a lot tighter, having him add just one more finger. But again, the twisting motion made it possible for him to fit in there without making me scream or tear. It still didn’t feel good, exactly, but it wasn’t as painful as I’d thought it would be.

We went on like that, with him stretching me slowly. When he felt me loosen up for him, he’d take his fingers out and add another one to the bunch.

After a while, though, I was over it.  It started out feeling like I was doing something exciting and risqué, but he was taking so long it began to feel like I was being examined by a proctologist.  I told him if he was going to do it, he needed to just pop it. I appreciated the consideration, but at the rate he was going, he was going to wear my ass out before he even got his dick in me.

He asked if I was sure, and I told him absolutely. Either do it right then, or leave it alone.

I rolled over on my stomach, and he asked me if I had any lotion or anything. I reminded him that yes, I did, but it was peppermint. No way was I going to let him stuff that in my ass.

He lifted my hips a bit and put his dick’s head against my anus. Going slow, he tried to penetrate me.

He did get in a little ways before it started to hurt. I didn’t say anything, but he felt the resistance and stopped.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” he said regretfully. I could tell he was already resigning himself to going to the little bathroom to jack off.

But I don’t give up so easily. We had started something, and I was determined we finish it.

I thought about it, and remembered that I did have some Vaseline in my makeup case. It was just a little container, and I used it on my lips. But still, I knew from experience that it made an acceptable lubricant in a pinch.

I fished it out and offered it to him. For once he got the point without my having to explain it to him. As he began to grease up his dick, I put a bit on my finger and rubbed it into my asshole.

This time, when he mounted me from behind and gave it some pressure, his dick did fit in me. I think he was as surprised as I was, because once he felt me give, he just stopped and held himself inside me. I waited for a beat, then gave my ass a little wriggle to remind him he was supposed to be doing something.

He had me get up on my knees, doggy-style, and watched my face in the mirror as he sodomized me. I was trying to go with it, not tense up, and just let the experience play out.

It wasn’t bad. It didn’t measure up to the review that my daughter’s friend had given it, but it felt pretty good. I would do it again sometime, maybe with a ribbed rubber or something, and definitely with real lubricant.

Then I felt Lenny really get into it, pumping harder while he gripped my pelvis to him. I looked up at his face in the mirror, and he had his eyes closed and his head thrown back. Now that he wasn’t playing around, I did begin to feel little snatches of pleasure. He was just around that spot, and would hit it by accident sometimes as he pulled in and out of me. He was pumping into me so fast, I couldn’t quite tell where the spot was.

Instead of fighting it, I let myself relax and feel the little jolt of pleasure when he happened to hit the spot just right. It was like a delightful surprise, and I was enjoying myself.

Then Lenny gave a final thrust, and ejaculated all in my ass. Yeah, that shit felt gross. There was nowhere up there for his semen to go, so it just oozed out of my ass as he pulled out.

“Uh, we got a little situation here,” he said as he saw his shit dripping out of me onto the sheets. A situation, huh? I thought to myself. This is fucking gross, literally.

I grabbed up my purse and headed to the bathroom.

Of course, the sink and wash cloths were outside the door, and I didn’t want him watching me wash up like that. So I had to settle for using a corner of the towel, which I wet under the faucet in the tub. I thought about taking a shower, but the faucet water came out brown. It didn’t seem likely that I was going to get rid of the brown shit already on me using brownish water.

I also needed to change the tampon. But as I sat down and reached for the string, I couldn’t find it. I looked at the dirty towel, but it was stained only a nasty brown color, not red. So I figured I couldn’t have lost the tampon in the bed.

The damn thing had been pushed up in me so far that I couldn't reach the string anymore.

A part of me wanted to panic. I'd never had that happen before, and all I could think about was toxic shock syndrome.

This is the safest sex there is, he’d told me. Well, apparently not. Whether or not he was healthy, that bastard may have very well fucked me to death anyway.

I didn’t know if I needed to go to the emergency room or not. I didn’t want to get an infection or go into shock or anything, but I also didn’t want to have to explain just how the tampon got shoved in there. Considering my health might be at stake, it may have been ridiculous of me to worry about what the people in the ER would think, [TJ22] but it was a serious consideration for me.

I ended up simply[TJ23]  putting a fresh one in, just to make sure my clothes were protected. It went right in, which confirmed for me that the first one was well beyond my reach already. I figured I'd see how I felt in the morning, and if there was any pain or a fever, then I'd go to the hospital.

I’d been in the bathroom so long, Lenny had drifted off to sleep. His solution to the mess we’d made was to simply put the top sheet over the spot and lay next to it.

I made a face at him. So damn nasty! I got that we didn’t have another sheet, but he could have at least put a towel or something over it so neither of us woke up in the shitty muck.

I sighed and got a towel myself, accidentally on purpose nudging him hard in the ribs as I spread the towel over the spot. That woke him up, instantly evil.

“What now?” he demanded after seeing the look on my face.

I informed him that he’d shoved the tampon so deep in me that it was now stuck. And I didn’t know what to do about it.

He looked disgusted with this news, but I didn’t care. My philosophy was that if men wanted to play with the female body, they should have to share in the downsides too. So what if he didn't have to deal with things like periods? I did, so the least he could do was know what it was like for me.

His nasty ass had the nerve to ask me if I wanted him to try to go in and get it. It was all I could do not to ask him if he was a gynecologist. Instead, I told him no, he’d done enough.

I could see by his face that he was relieved to hear it, but also hurt and confused by my constant attitude. I really was being a bitch to him, and I didn’t really know why.

“Look, I’m sorry. You just got me on a bad night. I’m not always like this. For what it’s worth, I really did have a good time tonight. I appreciate you taking me to the movies, and I’m sorry we got stranded. I also appreciate you making my first anal experience enjoyable. You may never want to see me again, but at least I’ll never forget you or this night.”

I was happy that he didn’t say anything, just nodded his head and smiled at me before he or I could say anything else to annoy one another. I fished my panties out from under the covers and put them back on.

Finally, I was able to get back in the bed, snuggling under the covers. I was happy to see that the stain under the towel was more on his side of the bed than mine.

This time, he managed to stay on his own side. For all of his hurt feelings, I think he was sleep before I even got under the covers good.

The next thing I knew, the sun was coming into the window. It was a pale, weak light, and when I opened the blinds I could see the snow had stopped sometime that morning. The snow was beautiful, making even the drab little piece of the city we were in look like a magic fairyland.

Lenny was still asleep. I had appreciated the fact that he didn't snore—that was a definite plus for him in my book. I’ve been told that I do snore, which I hate. But if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.

I needed to pee, so I grabbed my purse and scooted into the bathroom. It was time to change, of course, and I held my breath as I pulled the string. I waited a moment, even scooted around on the toilet seat a bit. And sure enough, I felt a little pressure.

By reaching up and fishing around a bit, I found the other string and pulled the original tampon out. Glory halleluiah[TJ24] , I was going to be all right.

Lenny still hadn’t moved when I’d come out the bathroom. With my body back to right, I felt a thousand percent better about him and the night we’d just spent together. Despite the grey hairs mixed into the beard that had sprouted on his cheeks during the night, he looked young and cute [TJ25] and vulnerable lying there, and I took a minute to stare at him.

He wasn’t a bad guy. I reminded myself that I was just a bitch. Not just to him, to a lot of the men I’d screwed around with. It was like I purposely picked guys that I was going to despise, then pushed them until they fought back. Then I used their reactions to my actions to justify my attitude in the first place.

Plus, Lenny was another example of me choosing the wrong type of guy. I’d sworn that I was going to find people who I was equally yoked with. I didn’t mean in a religious sense. More like on a financial and professional level. Not that I want to be a gold digger; I’m not looking for anybody to take care of me. More so, I was going to stop picking men I thought I could control because they had no money or prestige to be a challenge.

For real, Tomika, I thought to myself.  Aren’t you getting a little old for this?  Where is it getting you?  Just because one man hurt you, you can’t keep taking it out on men who had nothing to do with that.  All you’re doing is giving power to a man who isn’t thinking about you.  Just let the past go, and try to find happiness for the future.

Lenny woke up while I was looking at him, and asked me what was wrong. When I smiled at him and told him nothing was wrong, it was just a beautiful morning, he looked at me warily, like he expected me to come out my mouth with something crazy.

My immediate response to his look was to get irritated, but hadn’t I just been thinking that I needed to grow?  He asked me if I was all right, pointing in the general direction of my coochie, and I thought about not telling him the good news. Let him think he’d still messed me up, that I might have to go to the hospital.

Changing was harder than I thought. I caught myself being evil again, and instead told him I was fine. “So, you see, everything worked itself out, and it was all good,” I concluded with a smile.  “Now, I just need to get back to my room.  You ready?”

He didn’t understand why I needed to leave so early [TJ26] since it was Saturday and I didn’t have to go to work. The real reason was because the hotel I was staying at stopped serving breakfast at nine ‘o’ clock, and my per diem only gave me so much money a day to spend on food. I wanted to go to a nice seafood restaurant that night, so it wasn’t in my budget to pay for breakfast too. And he had made it clear the night before that it was all he could do to pay for our movie tickets.

But I wasn’t going to invite him to dinner, so I decided not to be insensitive. I didn’t mention that part, but I did tell him that I needed to get back for breakfast. Since I knew his stop on the train was before we hit downtown and I didn’t want to go back by myself, I offered to get him a plate from the buffet as a thank you for taking me back.

He was satisfied with that, and we both got dressed, rinsed out our mouths with some bottled water from the vending machine, and wiped off our faces.

Then Lenny and I walked out of room 222 in a much better mood than we had been in when we’d entered it.

 

 


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