Young Writers Society

Noah - 6/31 - Morning 

“I said, spit or swallow?”

Noah looked down at the squirming blonde by his feet. What did she just ask him? He rubbed his temples in a half-attempt to disappear the bright black spots eating away at his vision.

“Huh...What?” He grimaced, yanking his shirt up halfway. The blonde sat on her heels with her mouth positioned right above his boxers. Mascara fallout trailed from underneath her purple-rimmed eyes. Her lips appeared to be deeply swollen. Was he responsible for that? He thought he heard her snort as he studied the fierce red crisscrosses that carved a path down his navel.

“Would. You. Like. Me to swallow your cum?” She repeated a little more brazenly. Noah closed his eyes and leaned back onto the bedpost. “Not now, not now…” He chanted, chorus-like. He felt no longer in control of his impulses: one kick between her splayed thighs would send this blonde bimbo flying into the back wall.

“I just want to touch you,” She murmured, crawling up to his knees. “Handsome clients like you don’t come around very often. God knows how many unshaven 40-year-olds I’ve had to jerk off…” She flopped onto his pelvic bone and nestled her head between his legs.

A spasm traveled up Noah’s thighs as the blonde bit the tender skin just inches away from his crotch. He didn’t have any fight in him, even as she dug her acrylics into his foreskin and giggled in response to his helpless whimpering. “I’m going to ask one more time. Spit or swallow?” She said with a sadistic glimmer in her eyes. Noah tensed his muscles all the way, anticipating the feeling of fingers scurrying down his shaft like a cluster of baby spiders. Instead, she clutched his manhood and gathered it between her hands, drowning out the sound of his placid moaning with her excitement. He didn’t want her lips to lower over him like they had before, though his body desperately wanted it. Her tongue had just escaped her lips as he inched away from her grasp on the bed. A childish anger seized him; he wanted to strike out his body parts out like frenzied blades— anything to get her off the goddamn king.

“I think I’m good.” He said, probing for the elastic of his boxers which had been pulled out from underneath him in the struggle. His skin prickled with embarrassment.

The blonde moved her hands up towards his chest, anything to keep the contact going. She continued to survey him with her eyes even after he lifted off the bed, effectively untangling himself from her grasp.

Just as Noah grasped the door handle, the blonde got up and stood near the entrance, pouting out her bare chest. “Don’t you want what you paid for?”

Noah shook his head, pausing to grab her shirt and bra off the dresser. He tossed it the wad to her. “Breakfast is complimentary. Anything extra, just tell them to put on room 103.” He then waited for her to leave.