It had once been a Ramada, and before that, something better. After the Ramada, it became a Quality Court and now was descending into decadence as an “extended stay hotel”. Hotels that rent by the week or month do not attract the higher income levels, but this one seemed to doing a good job of weeding out the undesirable element, who would drag it more quickly into the seediness for which it was destined.
While unloading my bags and getting settled in for a three-month visit to the area, I saw a man with what I took to be a set of twins, around 12-14 years old. When I made contact with him to tell him about my experiences raising twin boys, he quickly explained that they were not even nearly the same age. The boy was sixteen and the girl was fourteen, but they dressed identically and appeared to be about the same size and weight. He said the girl was actually a few pounds heavier.
They were very well-behaved kids and I hoped that the family was going to be able to make it. A lot of the people staying there were unemployed and some told me they had been sleeping in their cars before they found this place. As it turned out, their room was directly across the hall from mine. My room looked somewhat claustrophobic for a months-long stay for a single person. It made me wonder how the family of four was managing?
While unpacking, I noticed a bag of cookies and candy from my sister that I had planed to leave with my son and his family, but had overlooked them and now had what I would consider a year’s supply of sweets for myself. Over the last few months, I had managed to drop several pounds of hideous fat and did not want them back, so I needed to find a way to get rid of the sweets.
That is when I noticed that the “twins” lived across the hall from my room. They were leaving with their dad, and the woman I had seen earlier and thought might be a hotel employee was apparently their mother. On an impulse, I scooped up a double handful of candies and carried them across the hall to the mother, who was still standing in the open doorway of their room.
She was surprised, but appreciative. We spoke briefly and I learned where they were from and that they were a very traditional Italian family who believed in loving discipline for their kids, rather than the anarchy that Dr. Spock left as his legacy.
That little gesture opened communications between us and we became somewhat comfortable with each other. I commented to both parents how much I admired their children and we got along very well.
After a few days, when I thought they may have become comfortable with me, I took the father aside and suggested that I could relieve him and his wife of the continuous babysitting for an hour or so, to allow him and his nice-looking wife to have a bit of “personal time”. A family of four in one room 24/7 could restrict certain activities.
At first, he demurred, thinking probably that it was too much to ask or that his wife wouldn’t be comfortable with a relative stranger watching their kids for an hour. A day or so later, he approached me somewhat timidly. “Is that offer still good?”
I grinned at him to let him know that I understood his concerns and his temptation.
“Sure is. Just say when.”
“How about now?”
I guess he was in more hurry than I realized. “Ok”, I told him. “Just let me get the computer games set up and we will be fine for a couple of hours, at least. Will that be long enough?”
He grinned at me. “It will be more than enough time for the first one, and about the right length for the second one. You sure you don’t mind?”
I assured him again, that I thought his kids were extremely well-behaved and that we would be right across the hall at all times, so his little head decided not to think about the possibility that I would simply drug the little angels and smuggle them out in a laundry basket or even tempt them downstairs and into my car to go buy groceries for the family. It was pretty obvious that they were living on short rations.
A few minutes later, their door closed on a couple of very horny parents and mine closed on a couple of excited kids and one horny old fart who meant them no harm, but very likely was a bit more sexually sophisticated than they were.
The door had barely closed when Samantha stripped her track suit over her head and down her thighs, leaving her completely naked, in a flash. Before I could think of anything to say, she was all over Sammie, stripping him.
“Hurry, Sammie. They are as horny as a two-peckered billy-goat and we don’t have all day. If you want some pussy, you better get moving.” She threw a quick glance my way. “You can watch or help or simply stay out of the way, but I seriously doubt that you would miss this for the world, so grab your dick and do whatever you want with it. Time’s a-wasting!”
Shock is such an insufficient word. By the time I could get my jaw closed, Sam had Sammie’s dick and balls in her mouth and was humming the Marseillaise, or whatever it is that oversexed fourteen-year old cocksuckers hum.
I strolled around the room, observing the details of the assignation as if preparing for a performance report. The kid had a decently sized prick on him, for his age, but it was seldom visible as Sam sucked the shit out of Sammie. I’m not sure that I would have chosen those names, but then some people say babies choose their own names. Who knows?
Without conscious effort on my part, my own clothes had formed a puddle at my feet and my somewhat more formidable weapon was growing rapidly.
Sam never missed a stroke. She executed some sort of diving, twisting, rolling maneuver that left her on her back with a pussy full of Sam’s prick and mine in her mouth. With time, she would probably have it down her throat, but that was going to take a little stretching.