Yvette Nash - The no tell motel wife

When the storm burst, sending blinding flurries of snow cascading downward, Cynthia was trying to drive home from yet another visit to the resale shops in a nearby town. The back seat was loaded with bags of odds and ends, things she would probably store in the attic with other such purchases. And, as usual, her husband Robert wouldn't care, or even notice. Once he had married her and gotten settled in her family's business, the attention he paid to her slackened off considerably. His disinterest had finally forced her to go on day-long trips to seek out enjoyment by spending money on whatever caught her eye.

She could see that she wouldn't get far in such awful weather, so she pulled into the parking lot of a small motel. She took her purse and fought her way the short distance to the motel's lobby, grateful for a haven from the freezing cold.

"You might be here awhile," the man behind the desk said. "Just heard on the radio that there might be two feet of snow before morning. No luggage, huh? Guess that means you weren't looking for a room."

He smiled as she walked closer, brushing the snow from her coat. The man was handsome. Black hair, brown eyes. Tall and broad shouldered. If she hadn't been married, she would have flirted with him. Robert would hardly ever fuck her, much less talk sexy to her. Not even her purchases could relieve that problem.

"I wasn't planning on staying," she agreed, returning the smile faintly. "After what you told me, though, I suppose I will need a room."

"First or second floor?" he asked, turning the ledger toward her.

"It doesn't matter," she muttered as she signed in. "Anything will do."

Damn Robert and his screwing around. If he wasn't always so busy with the company and other women, she would be home now, safe and warm. Instead, she was going to have to stay in a strange place, sleep in a strange bed, and pay to do it.

She dug into her purse for some money. Silently she handed over payment for one night. If she had to stay longer, she would put it on her charge card.

"How about 103?" the man inquired as he selected a key. "Towards the back and near the kitchen. Since there'll probably only be the four of us here, it'll be easier on all of us."

"Four?" she questioned, frowning.

"Me and my cousins. I'm Alan. You'll meet Lloyd and Perry later. Lloyd does the cooking and Perry's the handyman. I handle the business end."

He put out his hand and she shook hands with him. God, he had beautiful brown eyes. So deep and penetrating. Why the hell had she let Robert make her fall in love with him when a stud like Alan was around? Thinking of her two-timing husband, she decided she had better call to let him know where she was. While he wouldn't be worried, she thought it would only be proper.

"Could I use your phone?" she asked. "To make a local call."

"Sure," he said.

He set the phone closer to her and she lifted the receiver. There was no dial tone, or even static.

"It's dead," she sighed, hanging up. "Oh, well. I can try again later. Why don't you show me to my room?"

When he grinned, she felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach. It had been a long time since Robert had been able to get her hot by looking at her. Too long.

She followed him closely. His ass was taut and firm, his thighs muscular. Dammit, he looked good. Better than any man she had seen recently.

It startled her to realize that she hadn't really been looking at men since she had met and married Robert. It was as though her eyes had been closed for months, especially since she had seen her husband at lunch with a blonde who had been too friendly with him to be anything but his lover. And that had been less than six months after their wedding. Now, however, her eyes were wide open and full of hunger for the man walking in front of her.

"See?" he said as they came to a door. "Nice and secluded. Want me to show you the view, Mrs. Kinsley?"

"Cynthia," she corrected, blushing at his confused expression. "Uh, well, we are going to be under – unusual circumstances, aren't we?"

She handed him the key and he let them into the room. The snow hid everything beyond the windows. His eyes traveled over her slim figure, and she felt proud of the way he kept staring. She removed her hat and coat, then fluffed her long brown hair, shaking it to get rid of any flakes of snow. Alan studied her, making no move to leave. Her cunt began to itch. She didn't want him to go. As wrong as it seemed to be, she was aching for the man to fuck her. She sat on the bed, looking into his eyes, trying to decide how best to voice her desire and not seem too forward.

"Do you think your cousins would miss you if you – stayed to talk?" she murmured.

"No," he replied. "What do you want to talk about?"

When he sat next to her, she reached out timidly and put her hand on his leg. She was afraid to say anything, but lust made her find her voice.

"About what you might do if I told you – I like you. A lot."

Alan began caressing the back of her neck, sending sparkling chills down her spine.

"I'd say that I like you, too, Cynthia. A hell of a lot."

Blushing, she cased her hand toward his crotch. She found his bulging cock and gently squeezed it.

"I'm married, you know," she revealed. "Not happily, I'm afraid. Robert acts like – I'm not there." She paused, then said, "You seem to know I'm here, Alan. The question is, would you like to prove you want to be here with me?"

With a growl, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Cynthia was somewhat surprised by his eagerness, having been intimate only with Robert, and that was a lackluster relationship. Alan was a different breed of man altogether, and that realization made her pussy get hot and wet. She got even hornier when he slid his hands under her shirt to fondle her naked back.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" the man snarled lustfully. "Tell me, baby. Tell me you want my cock up your cunt."

"Yes!" she moaned breathlessly. "Oh, please, Alan! Do it to me!"

His fingers all but ripped the buttons loose on her shirt, making her almost drunk with rising passion. When he started pinching her nipples, she quivered anxiously.

"Do it to you?" he scoffed, chuckling. "If you want me to fuck you, honey, you gotta say what you want."

"I can't," she groaned. "Oh, God, Alan! That feels sooo good!"

He mauled her pert tits, rolling them under his strong hands. She was getting hotter by the second, just from his bold caresses.

"I'm waiting, baby," the man said. "Ask me for my prick."

"Oh, Alan," she moaned. "Please don't be that way. Isn't it enough that I want you?"

"No," he stated simply. "You want it, honey you gotta ask for it."

She wriggled her hips as he undid her slacks and slid them off, leaving her clad in a filmy pair of panties. Although he was nearly naked, she felt no embarrassment whatsoever, too horny to wait for the man to put his prick in her pussy.

"I can't stand it!" she whimpered. "Put it in me! Now!"

He was stripping quickly, naked in moments. She caught hold of his swollen prick, thrilled by its size and heat. Never having been brave enough to touch her husband's cock, she couldn't resist taking hold of the big cock and clutching it. Lying next to her, he stroked her cuntal mound, then groped under the thin material to slip a finger into her moist cunthole.

"Yeah," he grunted. "You want my cock, all right. But it turns me on to hear a girl ask me to fuck her, if she uses the right words. So do it."

That gouging finger was making her squirm. She could just imagine how wonderful it would feel to have his cock up there, instead. Since the only way to get it would be to do as he asked, she gave in.