Chapter 14: Rent-A-Dick
The cold, unyielding surface beneath him was gone, replaced by a scratchy, damp texture that smelled of stale cigarette smoke and floral disinfectant. Bob’s back was on a cheap motel quilt, the pattern a violent swirl of oranges and browns. A neon sign outside the window bled a pulsing red light through the gaps in the blinds, painting the room in strokes of hellish crimson.
Three shapes moved in the gloom, all sharp angles and jittery energy. The air tasted metallic, like burnt foil and adrenaline.
“He’s awake! Rent’s due, motherfucker!”
A woman’s face, caked in foundation that matched nothing, loomed over him. Her eyes were wide, pupils swallowing the irises. She wore only a sheer leopard-print robe, open, her small breasts tipped with chipped gold nail polish. She planted a knee on either side of his head, the coarse stubble of her shaved pussy scratching his forehead.
“Crystal needs her money, baby,” she hissed, lowering herself.
The world became muffled, hot, and suffocating. The meaty, salty weight of her engulfed his nose and mouth. He couldn’t breathe. He could only taste skin, sweat, and a tangy, sour musk. She ground herself against his face in frantic, elliptical motions.
“Huff that shit!” another voice shrieked. A second woman, taller, with stripper heels already buckled onto her feet, leaned over. Her fake tan had streaked, leaving orange tides on the sheets. She grabbed a handful of her own sweat-slicked cleavage and shoved it against his nostril, pinching his nose. “Get a real hit! That’s premium titty-sweat! Costs extra!”
Bob’s body, operating on its own horrific autopilot, raised his hands. They didn’t push her away. They grabbed her ass, fingers digging into the sticky, orange-stained flesh, pulling her grinding cunt harder onto his suffocating face. A dark, electric excitement, wholly separate from his conscious terror, sparked in his groin. His cock throbbed against the cheap sheets.
“He’s hard! Pay up, dick!” The third woman was on him in a flash. She was thinner, bones protruding, her ribs visible under a pasty that was dangling by one clasp. She straddled his hips, guided him inside her with a rough, unpracticed shove. She was dry, tight in a way that burned. She began to ride him with a frantic, chattering energy, her hips piston-like. “Gimme the rent! Gimme the rent!”
Crystal, on his face, lifted herself for a gasping second. Strings of viscous fluid connected her labia to his lips. “Wallet! Check his wallet!”
The tan-streaked woman, Bree, snatched a wallet from the nightstand—it wasn’t his, but it was there—and flung it open. Instead of bills, she pulled out a rolled-up dollar bill. She shoved it into Crystal’s waiting hand.
“Here’s your fucking tip!” Crystal rasped. She leaned back, one hand spreading her asscheeks wide above Bob’s mouth, the other positioning the edge of the dollar bill. With a grunt of concentration, she fed the currency into her own asshole, inch by crinkling inch.
Bree whooped, a raw, scraping sound. “Now make it rain, slut!”
Crystal clenched, her body trembling. A loud, wet fart erupted from her, propelling the sodden, brown-stained dollar bill out like a pathetic, soiled missile. It landed with a slap on Bob’s chest.
The woman riding him, Lexi, shrieked with laughter. “My turn! My turn!” She bounced harder, her bony pelvis slamming into him. The friction was becoming a slick, nasty glide as her body reluctantly yielded. “Stuff my box, Bree! Stuff it!”
Breathing through the haze of pussy and sweat, Bob saw Bree grab a fistful of assorted bills from the wallet—fives, ones, a twenty. She wadded them into a ball and, as Lexie raised herself up on trembling thighs, shoved the entire crumpled mass into Lexi’s gaping, used pussy.
Lexi screamed, a mix of pain and euphoria, and slammed back down on Bob’s cock, the paper wad creating a bizarre, crinkling buffer inside her. She rode him like that, the sound inside her a gross, rustling whisper with every thrust.
“Fuck the rent right out of me!” Lexi panted, her breath sour. “Fuck it out!”
Crystal, now crouching by his head, grabbed a handful of his hair. “Clean my feet, landlord.” She shoved her foot, the heel grimy from the motel carpet, against his lips. The taste of dirt, sweat, and fake leather filled his mouth. He gagged, but his tongue, betraying him, lapped at the arch.
The scene dissolved into a frenzied, overlapping madness. Bree mounted his face, Crystal took over riding his cock, the soiled dollar bill sticking to his chest. The paper inside Lexi grew sodden and began to disintegrate. Chunks of pulpy, ink-bleached bill mush started to seep out around the base of his shaft with every thrust, a filthy papier-mâché.
“Gonna come! Gonna come my rent deposit!” Crystal wailed, her body seizing. As she clenched around him, a sharp, pressurized fart burst from her ass, a direct result of the frantic anal play. It blew a stray, damp one-dollar bill off the nightstand.
It was the trigger. His orgasm was a brutal, involuntary expulsion, ripped from him by the combination of suffocating heat, chemical sweat, and crinkling, mushy currency. He spurted into Crystal, who was already scrambling off, her eyes wild.
“Not enough!” Lexi screamed, pulling the sodden mass from her vagina and throwing it at the wall. “We need more! Always more!” She pointed a trembling finger at a shiny, chrome pole that now stood in the middle of the motel room, though it certainly hadn’t been there a moment before. “On the pole! Do me on the pole! I’ll work it out!”
Bob’s body stood up, dripping, streaked with tanning cream and spit. He was pushed toward the cold metal. Lexi rushed ahead, grabbing the pole and hoisting herself up, presenting her asshole, still glistening and winking from the earlier fart. “Here! Right here! Hard!”
His hips moved. He guided himself into that tight, used ring. She screamed, taking every inch, then began to spin around the pole, her body rotating, forcing him to stagger in a clumsy circle. The room was a blur of red neon and frantic flesh. The other two cheered, slapping her ass as it spun, their hands leaving sharp prints on her skin.
(NEXT SCENE, MILF, IN CLOTHES FOR A 20-SOMETHING, DOING NOTHING BUT ANAL, SHE HAS A HUGE JELLO LIKE ASS, SHE IS MOMMY, HE FUCKS HER ASSHOLE TOO HARD, STUFF HAPPENS