The cheap motel wallpaper peels at the edges like skin after a bad sunburn. I stare at the faded floral pattern, trying to focus on anything but the fact that my dick is currently sticking through a hole in the wall, exposed and vulnerable to whoever might be on the other side.
"It's okay, Leo," Sabrina whispers, her breath warm against my ear as she presses herself against my back. Her hands slide around my waist, steadying me. "Just relax."
Easy for her to say. She's not the one with her most sensitive body part thrust into the unknown. My mind races with memories I've spent years trying to bury, dark alleys, strange hotel rooms, faceless clients using me like I was nothing more than a junkie with a dick.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, feeling the familiar shame of inadequacy creeping up my spine.
"Shh." Sabrina's lips brush against the nape of my neck, sending an involuntary shiver through me despite my anxiety. "You're doing so well already."
Her fingers trace delicate patterns across my stomach, dipping lower with each pass but never quite touching where I need her most. The teasing is deliberate, calculated to drive me wild.
"Remember this morning?" she purrs, her voice dropping to that silky register that bypasses my brain and speaks directly to my cock. "How good you tasted? How beautifully you gave me exactly what I wanted?"
The memory flashes vivid in my mind, Sabrina's lips wrapped around the rim of her mug, maintaining eye contact as she swallowed my release like it was the finest coffee. Heat rushes through me, pooling low in my belly.
"It's time to get hard now, Leo," she commands softly, her hand finally wrapping around the base of my length. "Be a good boy for me."
Her words wash over me like warm honey, thick and sweet and impossible to resist. My body responds instantly to her command, blood rushing to fill my previously reluctant cock until it's straining through the hole, achingly hard.
"That's it," Sabrina praises, her voice rich with satisfaction. "So perfect for me."
From the other side of the wall comes a soft gasp, followed by the unmistakable sound of movement. Someone's there. Someone's watching. The knowledge sends conflicting waves of anxiety and arousal coursing through me.
"Remember, I'm right here," Sabrina whispers, as if reading my thoughts. Her free hand slides up to rest protectively over my heart. "I won't let anything bad happen to you."
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. "Are you sure not using protection is okay?" The question comes out shakier than I intended, my old fears bubbling to the surface despite Sabrina's reassurances.
"Of course," she murmurs, her lips brushing my earlobe as she speaks. "I personally vetted everyone who's coming tonight. Trust me."
I nod, grateful for her thoroughness, for the way she thinks of everything. My anxiety eases slightly, replaced by a growing anticipation that makes my cock twitch where it protrudes through the hole.
Then I feel it, soft, tender lips wrapping around the head of my cock. I gasp at the contact, my hips instinctively jerking forward. Whoever's on the other side doesn't take me deep, just focuses on wetting my length with long, deliberate strokes of their tongue. It's methodical, almost clinical, like they're preparing me for something else.
And then those lips disappear.
Before I can process the loss, something else replaces them, something hot, wet, and tight sliding down over me. A pussy. Taking me bare. All the way to the hilt in one smooth motion.
"Oh god," I moan, my forehead pressing against the wall as pleasure courses through my system. The sensation is overwhelming, so different from Sabrina and Tara. Every ridge, every texture, every pulse of her inner walls registers with crystal clarity.
"Don't forget to thrust, baby," Sabrina whispers, her hands gripping my hips, urging me to move. "She's waiting for you."
"Sorry," I mumble, embarrassed by my momentary paralysis. I draw back slowly before pushing forward again, establishing a gentle rhythm that makes my toes curl against the grimy carpet.
Sabrina's hand snakes around to my chest, fingers splaying across my pounding heart. "Tell me how it feels," she demands softly. "I want to hear every detail."
I struggle to find words as I continue thrusting, each movement sending sparks of pleasure racing up my spine. "It's... intense," I manage between ragged breaths. "So wet and hot. I can feel everything, every squeeze, every pulse. It's like she's pulling me deeper every time I push into her."
My description seems to please Sabrina, I can feel her smile against my shoulder blade as her breathing quickens to match my own. Her free hand slides down my stomach, fingernails lightly scratching paths across my skin that make me shiver.
The woman on the other side adjusts her position, changing the angle slightly, and I nearly lose my mind as the head of my tip drags against some ridged spot inside her that makes her clench down hard.
Sabrina's mouth finds my neck, her lips warm and soft against my skin. She alternates between kisses and slow, deliberate licks that make my knees weak.
"That's right," she murmurs against my pulse point. "Keep fucking her. Just like that."
Her words send electricity down my spine, making me thrust harder, faster. The woman on the other side responds immediately, her inner walls fluttering around me as she begins to climax. Her orgasm ripples through her body in waves I can feel through the wall, each contraction squeezing me tighter.
"Oh god," I gasp as she clenches around me one final time before slowly sliding off my still-hard cock.
I can't help the disappointed sound that escapes my throat as the wonderful heat disappears, leaving me achingly hard and unsatisfied. My shaft twitches in the empty air, slick and glistening with her arousal.
Sabrina notices my expression immediately. Her fingers trace the outline of my pouting lower lip, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"Don't look so disappointed, Leo," she says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth. "She was just the first."
I swallow hard, my heart hammering against my ribs as I process her words. The first. There are more coming.
We wait in charged silence, Sabrina's hands wandering possessively across my chest and stomach. After what feels like an eternity but is probably only a minute or two, I feel another set of fingers tentatively exploring my length from the other side of the wall.
Then another pussy envelops me, this one looser than the first but somehow much hotter. I groan at the sensation, my hips instinctively pushing forward to meet her.
"Feel good?" Sabrina whispers, her teeth grazing my earlobe.
"Yes," I manage, my voice strained as this new woman begins to ride me through the hole, her rhythm more frantic than the first.
Sabrina's hands never stop moving across my body, claiming, possessing, reminding me that no matter how many women use my cock tonight, I belong to her.
This second woman finishes quickly, crying out loud enough that we can hear her clearly through the thin wall. She's barely slid off me before another takes her place, and then another after that.
This continues for what feels like hours, an endless parade of anonymous women using my body for their pleasure while I hover in a constant state of almost-climax. Sabrina's masterful edging keeps me suspended at the precipice, never allowing me to tumble over. My legs tremble with the strain of standing, my cock aches with a need so profound it borders on pain, yet somehow she knows exactly when to whisper in my ear to hold back, to breathe, to wait.
"You're doing so beautifully," she murmurs, her fingers tracing patterns along my sweat-slicked back. "Look how many women you've satisfied tonight. All for me."
I whimper as another woman slides off me, her orgasm still pulsing around my shaft. My forehead presses against the wall, seeking the cool relief of the peeling wallpaper as I struggle to catch my breath.
"Sabrina, please," I gasp, my voice ragged with desperation. "I can't… I need to…"
"Shh," she soothes, pressing her body against my back, her hands sliding around to grip my hips possessively. "You can hold out a little longer, can't you? For me?"
I nod weakly, even as my cock throbs with protest, angry and red and desperate for release. The familiar fog of subspace has settled over me, that strange, floating sensation where my only purpose is to please her, to be good, to endure whatever she asks of me.
Another fifteen minutes pass in this delicious torture. My world narrows to the sensations in my body, the ache in my legs, the burn in my lungs, the desperate need coiling tighter and tighter at the base of my spine. I've lost count of how many women have used me tonight, each one taking their pleasure and leaving me more desperate than before.
Finally, Sabrina presses her lips to my shoulder blade, her voice soft with something like mercy.
"Alright, Leo. This next one is the last."
I almost sob with relief, my entire body trembling with anticipation. "Can I…" My voice breaks, the question almost too desperate to form. "Can I cum in her?"
I feel Sabrina's smile against my skin, the curve of her lips sending shivers down my spine.
"I want you to," she whispers, her words a caress. "Fill her up. Show her what she's been missing."
I feel a new presence on the other side of the wall. When this final woman takes me in, I nearly collapse. Her pussy grips me with an intensity so impossibly tight it's almost painful. Her inner walls clench around me with vigorous pressure as she envelopes me.
"Fuck," I gasp, my fingers digging into the peeling wallpaper.
Though my mind hazily registers that she doesn't feel quite like Sabrina or Tara, there's something different about her texture, her heat. Even then, I whimper helplessly, biting my lower lip to keep from losing control immediately.
Sabrina's hands grip my hips firmly. "Make sure she cums first, Leo." Sabrina whispers, her breath hot against my ear.
I start thrusting, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. Something primal takes over, all the frustration from being edged all night, all the desperation of being used without release, transforms into raw determination. My hips move with a mind of their own, driving into this anonymous woman with an intensity that surprises even me.
Grunts escape my throat, animalistic and unrestrained. I'm no longer the polished husband at a corporate party or the careful lover Sabrina knows at home. I'm reduced to pure instinct, pure need.
I can feel the woman on the other side responding to each thrust, her body tensing, tightening around me in waves that signal she's close. But I need to hold on just a little longer.
"Sabrina, I'm…" I start to warn, feeling my control slipping away like sand through my fingers.
Before I can finish, Sabrina captures my mouth with hers, her tongue sliding deep between my lips. The kiss is possessive, consuming, as if she's trying to swallow my very essence. Her fingers tangle in my hair, holding me to her as my body betrays me.
The dam breaks. I explode inside the stranger, my entire being focused on the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me. My hips buck wildly against the wall as I pour everything I have into this unknown woman, filling her completely. Each pulse feels like it might be the last, but then another wave crashes through me.
I whimper pathetically into Sabrina's mouth, my body shuddering with each aftershock. She doesn't let me pull away, drinking in my sounds of pleasure like they're sustenance. I keep thrusting weakly, unable to stop.
The pleasure doesn't stop, it keeps pulsing through me in waves that seem endless, each one slightly less intense than the last but still enough to make my entire body tremble.
I'm vaguely aware of a high-pitched sound cutting through my haze. It takes me several moments to realize it's coming from the other side of the wall, the woman is screaming in pleasure, her voice climbing higher with each pulse of my release inside her.
Finally, Sabrina pulls her mouth away from mine, allowing me to gasp for air. As the aftershocks begin to cool down, my senses gradually return as I flop out of this woman.
And just like that, reality crashes back into me.
What am I doing? Who am I? The familiar self-loathing rises like bile in my throat as I stare at my cock still protruding through the hole, glistening with the evidence of what I've done. I'm back to being exactly what I was before. A whore.
My breathing quickens, shallow and panicked. The walls of the motel room seem to close in around me. I try to pull away from the wall, suddenly desperate to escape, to hide.
"I can't…" My voice breaks with rising terror. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"
Before the spiral can fully take hold, Sabrina's arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me back against her chest. Her embrace is firm and grounding as she presses her cheek against my shoulder blade.
"You did so good, baby," she whispers, her voice loving and filled with genuine pride. "So, so good for me. Perfect. Absolutely perfect."
As Sabrina's words wrap around me, my ragged breathing gradually slows. The panic that had been clawing at my throat subsides, replaced by a strange calm that spreads through my limbs.
"Come here," Sabrina murmurs, gently pulling me away from the wall. Her movements are tender as she helps me turn around, my legs still wobbly beneath me. "Let's get you decent again."
She kneels down, carefully tucking me back into my boxers before pulling up my pants. The soft rasp of my zipper being pulled up sounds unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
Her fingers brush against my stomach as she fastens the button, and then she looks up at me, her blue eyes shining with unmistakable adoration.
"I'm so proud of you for lasting so long, baby," she says, rising to her feet to cup my face between her palms. "You were incredible."
A wave of pure joy washes over me, warm and bright and perfect. All the doubt, all the self-loathing from moments before, dissolves under the radiance of her approval. I did good. I made her happy. Nothing else matters.
"Thank you," I whisper, leaning into her touch.
She presses a soft kiss to my forehead, then steps back, glancing around the room with a practical eye. "How about you go wait in the car and I'll clean up here real quick, alright?"
I hesitate, looking at the rumpled bedsheets, the discarded towels, the evidence of our evening scattered across the motel room. "Are you sure? I can help."
"Yeah," she says, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You've done more than enough tonight. Go rest."