From Classy to Trashy, All in One Night, Part II
Photo: J.Robert Williams
...Continued from last week.
It wasn’t the price or the location that drew me to this Motel 6, but the pure tawdry value of it. As a writer, I get off on a good story, and everything about this place screamed future blog post.
It was 3 a.m. when we arrived and Zuko had to dodge drunken men and women meandering out of the strip club next door to park. I went inside alone, and the bearded lady at the desk handed me two keys and said she wouldn’t charge me for the extra person because we wouldn’t be using the room for very long.
I love the assumptions she made without me saying a word.
It was right about now that Zuko confided in me that she wasn’t sure she was ready for what it meant to be in an open relationship. Which meant she didn’t know if she’d put out. She could, however, come up, cuddle and watch HBO.
Cuddling was not what I had in mind. I just spent $60 for a seedy hotel room, and I wanted seedy sex. Thinking my lingerie might change her mind, I invited her up “to cuddle.”
And cuddle she did. She curled, clung and coiled all around me, yet her hands stayed in safety zones despite mine encouraging them elsewhere. Testing the waters, I ran my fingers through her hair, tugging a bit as I went.
Next thing I knew I was on my back, naked with her whole hand inside of me. I guess I found her trigger.
She bit my nipples, flicked my ears and fucked me so hard I couldn’t help but scream. I didn’t cum, but I was definitely satisfied an hour later when we passed out, me sprawled across the bed, her cuddled against me.
We startled awake a bit later to that woman yelling "I need a large black trash bag quick!" Zuko woke up just long enough to say, "I don't want to know," and crashed back out.
Not wanting to linger, I carefully untangled myself from her, called Trouble to pick me up, grabbed my suit, and whispered good-bye as I left the room.
Downstairs, Trouble was literally backing her UHaul into the hotel parking lot. She just recently broke up with her partner of six years, and I was helping her bring her things back to Eugene. The irony of the UHaul at the Motel 6 did not escape us.
On the ride home, we exchanged sordid details of our sex lives and she laughed multiple times because I couldn’t sit right due to the damage done by my evening’s shenanigans.
Trouble has a stone butch exterior, but the softy romantic inside of her couldn’t understand how I could be so classy yet love having a one night stand in a trashy Motel 6.
Because it reads well, I told her.
And I was right.
Queerie Bradshaw loves shoes, social justice and sex. Born a farmer's daughter, she believes everyone deserves a good roll in the hay, and feels empowered by her feminine sexuality. She frequently travels both domestically and abroad, exploring women and wine from all regions. Now a law student who dances burlesque on the side, she fights for international rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of good porn. You can follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/QueerieBradshaw) and become a fan of hers on Facebook.