Just like his finger in me before, his cock didn't do anything for me - good or bad. I felt no pleasure, save for the knowledge of what I was doing. There was no physical satisfaction, but I moaned and gasped just the same.
I slightly opened my eyes and peeped at Weston's face only to find him staring at me, his face an ugly mask of hard labor. "Come on, honey. Come on..." I said, hoping he'd cum before he broke anything, his or mine.
Suddenly, Weston's revolting face started turning deep red and for a moment I was afraid he was giving himself a heart attack, only to realize that this was the moment of his climax. He banged against me a few more times. The thrusts were so powerful, I could feel the tip of his cock hitting the softness inside of me.
Then he threw his head back and opened his mouth, letting out a terrifying scream, something between the roar of a wounded animal and an agony of a man who had just been scolded by boiling water. It pierced my ears and made my skin crawl. He stopped banging me hard but he didn't stop fucking. Like a jackrabbit he continued to pump, high pitched ‘eee...eee...eee...' accompanying his pleasure and adding to my disgust.
As he ran out of steam, he simply plopped on top of me, and I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. I've finally had enough. "Get off me!" I said and thought the better of adding ‘you freak'. "I can't breathe, get off!" I said in a panic, ready to start screaming for help from the others.
"Good Lord!" Weston gasped as he finally rolled off me. "Good Lord!" he tried to catch his breath.
"He's got nothing to do with it, buddy." I said. I wanted him to leave. "Come on, you gotta get up." I was beyond being careful and not rude. Surely, there were no more disgusting creatures like this out there. He was simply the most awful man I have ever allowed to touch me. I hated the sight and smell of him; I hated the fact that his forearm was now touching mine as he tried to regain his senses.
"I'm at the Sheraton," he gasped and turned his head to give me a smile. My stomach turned. "I'll be there for another week, it sure would be nice if we could get together again."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't think so." I said and got out of bed, reaching for the drink, which I had previously decided would remain untouched. I needed a stiff one after this little escapade. "You need to go, now."
"I'm from Georgia, you know." Said Weston as he got out of bed and clumsily looked for his clothes.
"No shit!" I couldn't help myself. If he mentioned another detail from his life, I would leave right there and then. But not before telling the little macho group outside that their buddy likes a little something up his ass. I would have done it, too if he dragged his feet, but the look on his face told me he finally caught on. He seemed surprised and in disbelief, only to change his expression to that of utter disgust.
"That's exactly how I feel about you. Now get!" I said and turned my back on him.
He left with his underwear on, the rest of his clothes and shoes in his hand. I felt my skin crawl and wished I could have taken another shower, but thought the better of it. The sooner I was through with this, the better.
"Tell the next one to come in!" I said just as Weston was closing the door. I was definitely beyond shame.
I searched through my purse wildly, hoping I didn't forget to bring my cigarettes. Just as I inhaled the first drag and headed for the bed, there was another knock and before I could say anything the door opened.
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