O
Odette
Guest
Original poster
A few hours later, Ysabella was propped back against a mound of pillows on the bed. She stared up at the textured, yellowing ceiling, trying to keep her gaze away from what laid in front of her, strew across the bed. Her legs were parted and a man which rough facial hair was between her legs, his sloppy movements making her chest heave and his large, calloused hands gripping hard around her hips. She let out soft, whispered moans when he flickered at her centre, but other than that, she was silent.
At first, the man had seemed poised, gentle... caring, even. He had been tender in undressing her, but when her body had become free as his own, there was no stopping the animalistic side to his actions; after that he had practically forced his erectness down her throat, and now, he was doing was he considered "returning the favour".
Ysabella knew that it was only to build out his own pride and confidence, and so when she deemed it was appropriate, she'd moan or gasp out in pleasure.
The only thing that truly brought her to climax was imaging it was Cam down on here – and as much as the mere thought of him hurt her, she couldn't help herself. Recalling how his hands had flipped around her most sensitive areas, his lips tugging at the skin...
Ysabella's moans got louder and more frequent now, and just as all the warmth began to accumulate in her lower belly, there was a loud wrapping at the door. At least, they both ignored it, but when a voice called Ysabella's name from the other side and the banging got louder, the man moved from between her legs, licking his sloppy lips as they pulled on their undergarments.
"Paul?" Ella blinked to the sunlight, her both raspy and her frame slumped.
She'd failed to notice he was carrying a bag of McDonalds until he was pushing past her and into the room. Immediately, he shooed the other man from the place, allowing another twenty to just slip from Ella's grasp. And she was only half way there to the ticket, and her father hadn't replied to her next letter yet...
Like the cheap motel room was his own home, Paul slumped into one of the chairs and opened up the bag of food. When the scent wafted into Ella's nose, her stomach grumbled, and she approached cautiously.
"I'm not here to fuck you, Ella," Paul told her honestly, extending out a cheeseburger, like an olive branch. "I just want to talk."
Ysabella wrapped her arms around her herself, but was powerless to just leave the burger there. Her stomach was awfully sore with hunger, her mouth parched for any sort of nourishment. She whispered, "you not know me..."
"I know," he said, extracting a large carton of fries from the bag and putting them on the table as well, "but I do know damn well that Cam would hate to see you like this, and because I'm such a good friend"-she couldn't help but notice his sarcasm-"I figure I'd take care of you while he's out of town."
Ella took a bite of her burger, and her jaw spasmed at the sudden motion. She touched the side of her face, shaking her head before replying, "Mr. Ford not care about girl."
"I beg to differ, Ella. But tell me... why are you doing something like this? Cam told me once or twice that you were a beautiful singer. Surely I could hook you up with a gig, and that'll bring you more cash than this."
Ella's brow furrowed, "hook up... gig? Giggle? I no laugh, Paul."
Paul chuckled a bit and raised an eyebrow, "where are you from, anyways, Ysabella?"
She swallowed another bite, "Middle East... country, Yemen. You not know."
"I don't know... are you trying to get back there?"
Ella nodded her head, "I hope. Family there... realize I no belong here, not with all Americans. I never find life here good, so I return. But I many hundred dollars away from ticket."
"Damn, girl," Paul blew, "you've got a long way to go then, huh?"
At first, the man had seemed poised, gentle... caring, even. He had been tender in undressing her, but when her body had become free as his own, there was no stopping the animalistic side to his actions; after that he had practically forced his erectness down her throat, and now, he was doing was he considered "returning the favour".
Ysabella knew that it was only to build out his own pride and confidence, and so when she deemed it was appropriate, she'd moan or gasp out in pleasure.
The only thing that truly brought her to climax was imaging it was Cam down on here – and as much as the mere thought of him hurt her, she couldn't help herself. Recalling how his hands had flipped around her most sensitive areas, his lips tugging at the skin...
Ysabella's moans got louder and more frequent now, and just as all the warmth began to accumulate in her lower belly, there was a loud wrapping at the door. At least, they both ignored it, but when a voice called Ysabella's name from the other side and the banging got louder, the man moved from between her legs, licking his sloppy lips as they pulled on their undergarments.
"Paul?" Ella blinked to the sunlight, her both raspy and her frame slumped.
She'd failed to notice he was carrying a bag of McDonalds until he was pushing past her and into the room. Immediately, he shooed the other man from the place, allowing another twenty to just slip from Ella's grasp. And she was only half way there to the ticket, and her father hadn't replied to her next letter yet...
Like the cheap motel room was his own home, Paul slumped into one of the chairs and opened up the bag of food. When the scent wafted into Ella's nose, her stomach grumbled, and she approached cautiously.
"I'm not here to fuck you, Ella," Paul told her honestly, extending out a cheeseburger, like an olive branch. "I just want to talk."
Ysabella wrapped her arms around her herself, but was powerless to just leave the burger there. Her stomach was awfully sore with hunger, her mouth parched for any sort of nourishment. She whispered, "you not know me..."
"I know," he said, extracting a large carton of fries from the bag and putting them on the table as well, "but I do know damn well that Cam would hate to see you like this, and because I'm such a good friend"-she couldn't help but notice his sarcasm-"I figure I'd take care of you while he's out of town."
Ella took a bite of her burger, and her jaw spasmed at the sudden motion. She touched the side of her face, shaking her head before replying, "Mr. Ford not care about girl."
"I beg to differ, Ella. But tell me... why are you doing something like this? Cam told me once or twice that you were a beautiful singer. Surely I could hook you up with a gig, and that'll bring you more cash than this."
Ella's brow furrowed, "hook up... gig? Giggle? I no laugh, Paul."
Paul chuckled a bit and raised an eyebrow, "where are you from, anyways, Ysabella?"
She swallowed another bite, "Middle East... country, Yemen. You not know."
"I don't know... are you trying to get back there?"
Ella nodded her head, "I hope. Family there... realize I no belong here, not with all Americans. I never find life here good, so I return. But I many hundred dollars away from ticket."
"Damn, girl," Paul blew, "you've got a long way to go then, huh?"