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Greg felt the returning insistence of his bladder full of beer urging him to seek relief soon. He jumped off the bed and went to the bathroom and knocked on the door, telling Joy he needed to come in and pee. She giggled and told him, her voice echoing softly off the tiled walls of the bathroom,
“Okay darling. Come in.”
Greg opened the door and there before him stood Joy in all her shining naked glory. “Oh my lord gawd.” Greg muttered, his cock becoming turgid, forgetting about his need to urinate momentarily. This was what God could do when he really put his mind to it. Here stood the crowning achievement of his handiwork in the flesh. A testament to what womanly form could and should be. A thin, yet muscular, body, and well rounded in all the right places. Joy had a body of Greek goddess statue proportions in miniature, the flowing shining hair of a dark angel released from the bowels of hell to tempt the strongest of men, a come hither smirking stare from finely formed Asian eyes of anthracite as black as the starless heavens between the galaxies, and a personality as strongly magnetic as a heavenly body the size of Jupiter, with a smile of such brilliant magnitude and so utterly beguiling and alluring as to be able to easily tempt the will of the strongest of the Catholic saints from their vows of celibacy. She was everything man has been warned about throughout history by every religion designed to befoul the mind of horny men. She was to die for, or kill for, or at least pay twenty bucks for. Greg had settled on the latter, and was damned glad he did.
Greg came out of his reverent reflection of the Isaan goddess standing before him like a stupefied nodding heroin junkie recently injected with a syringe full of methamphetamine and began eagerly tearing at the constrictions of his clothing, while grabbing Joy in an open mouthed kiss of animalistic fervor and passion, as his writhing clothing stripping body pressed her against the wall. Joy reached beside herself once Greg was disrobed, his clothes now laying crumpled and thrown atop the western style toilet seat, and turned on the hot water shower as they slid down the tiled wall onto the floor of the hong nam. They rutted like animals in heat under the steaming stinging spray of the hotel shower. This wasn’t love making in any sense of the act or phrase. It was primordial. The scent of her musky sex and the musky odor of his after shave cologne mingled in the wispy steaming air with the cries, squeals, and moans of pleasure from two humans in the throes of physical passion and pleasure, as each tried to please the other and grab their own pleasures at the same time. The give and take of sexual pleasure between primates of a higher order who even in the grip of their primitive urges and reflexes remain aware enough to prolong the act of copulation for the physical gratification of mutual benefit to both brings forth hurried gasps of communication unique to the physical sex act of the human species, and of a volume more than likely to have disturbed and brought forth comment and maybe even a banging on the wall from any occupant of the room next door. Or a smirk and a “Hey honey, sounds like they’re having fun. Why don’t we, ya know, make some noise of our own?”
As Greg and Joy gave their last moaning and groaning vocalizations in their final climax before collapsing on the puddled floor of the bathroom Greg smiled, and thought to himself, “Christ, we sound like the soundtrack to a friggin’ porno movie.” Joy’s sudden quivering and shrieking clipped moan signaled her completion of her orgasm and dragged Greg over the edge into his own, with an added loudly expressed, “Jeeeeeeeeezzzzzuuuuuuuus Chhhhhhrrrrriiiisssst!” to punctuate the event.
This is what Greg had been daydreaming of in work every day this past week. This is what made the waiting all worthwhile. This was definitely worth twenty bucks, not including tips and presents.
(To be continued)
Cent
(The Central Scrutinizer)
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