Girls' Nightmare Out (Part 2)

Girls' Nightmare Out, continued By Rogue Alan Part IX She felt him again, thrusting endlessly between her spread thighs, grunting quietly with each forward lunge. Biting her lip, she fought to suppress the groan she knew was building in her throat, at once desperate for release & ashamed to be reacting as she was. But at just that moment he shifted higher, the root of his big cock pressing tight against her erect clit, rubbing at it endlessly, & that quickly, she was cumming. Her back arched, head dropping back against the motel's thin mattress, thighs dropping wide, offering her sex to the stranger firmly seated between them. Breath didn't come, then rasped into her lungs in a sobbing rush. She was dimly aware of her hands grasping at his driving buttocks, pulling him close, urging him on. He wasn't the 1st to take her that night; wasn't the biggest or fattest, & certainly wasn't more skilled than his friends had been, but after almost 2 hours taking a cock in one manner or another without pause, it didn't take finesse to get her off; simply friction. It didn't matter who was getting her off, or that he wasn't trying to make her cum; after so long without release, the orgasm satisfied a need she'd denied too long. She heard her ragged groans, felt the way it spurred him on. He stiffened then, as she teetered on the precipice of another climax, & after grunting irregularly for several moments, holding himself inside of her, the brute backed out. She glanced drunkenly about the room, looking for the next stranger preparing to enjoy her ready body, but the others were spent as well, except for the last-the fellow who reminded her of a boy she'd once wanted in high school-who was still stroking in & out of the other whore. She blinked back a tear at that thought, once more trying to reconcile what she knew was wrong with what she'd just felt. Taking a deep breath Melissa stopped replaying the past three hours, focusing on the present, & trying to block out what she'd just finished doing. what she'd allowed others to do to her. It no longer threatened to overwhelm her when she was 'working' as Tom put it- casually, callously. She could lie there, making the appropriate noises, moving her body convincingly, while feeling empty & alone. It was only when she came-a simple physiological act, one of the other girl's had reminded her, and something that she would need to feel to survive her ordeal-that she felt that control or anesthesia slip. That simple declaration-she needed to experience pleasure to tolerate being used by the endless line of unknown men she knew she still faced-had been disturbing when she'd heard it, not in the least as it was offered from a younger, outwardly more innocent girl. Mel remembered scoffing at the sentiment at the time, even though she'd already known the reality physically in the intensive 'training' Tom had forced upon them not so long ago; the simple admission of such acceptance had frightened Melissa at the time, yet barely a month later, she lay in the plain hotel room, surrounded by strangers, & without a 2nd thought began to finger herself, quickly working to another cleansing release. The world swirled into a kaleidoscope of sensory information as she came again, barely aware of the encouraging shouts of the men who'd realized what she was doing & were gathering to watch. Blinking, Melissa stopped the memory of the past evening cold, checking internally to see if she'd reacted to the memory-an increasing danger that frightened her. She looked at the stranger staring back at her from the mirror. The green eyes, heavily made up, mascara streaked now, seemed dull. She knew there were dark 7538 1.63/512345