Chapter 6

I left the apartment building before hitting the callback button.

“It’s late, Cunt.” He answered surprisingly quick, for what I assumed was somebody else’s phone.

“Where is it?”

“Right where it’s always been, but I’m at a flophouse.” He gave me directions. “Get your ass here before ten. They close up.” He dropped the connection.

It wasn’t far. I didn’t know the neighborhood had a flophouse. It wasn’t a charity either. It was a home business on a main drag. “Mulgrew’s Beds for Dollars” In tiny, faded print the window sign added, “Not one bed bug!” I took it to mean there were thousands.”

It being a public place, Terry couldn’t do anything to me here, I told myself and rang the bell. Terry opened the front door as quickly as he had answered the phone. His disfigured face was grinning. He looked back, “Yeah, it’s the whore I told you about.”

An elderly voice squealed. “That’ll be ten dollars more.”

“Sure.” Terry grabbed my coat collar and dragged me in. His brazenness in front of the white desk clerk stunned me. “I’ll take care of her in the upstairs bath.” He led me to a flight going up.

“Fifteen for the upper john.”

“You’ll get it, old man.” He pushed my confused body into the well. I stumbled up steps, him supporting me from behind. “Gods, Cunt, one would think you’ve never been raped in a public place before.” He hissed low.

At the top of the stairs I managed to collect myself. A hallway stretched past three doors. I skipped out of Terry’s reach and spun around. “Give me the damn shit or I’ll scream!”

Terry sneered and stepped into the hall, away from me. “Scream and you won’t get shit.” He pointed down the stairs. “Get the fuck out, or get in that toilet room.” He pointed at the door beside me.

Then I said the stupidest thing of all. “You said it would be for free.”

He lurched forward and grabbed me again. “Open the fucking door.”

Nearly pressed against it, I turned the handle. The door swung inward. He pushed us through. “Take down your damn pants.”

Tears made their way down my face as I unclasp my pants and pushed them down. “At least close the door.”

“Fuck no. If the old fart decides to watch, maybe he’ll give me a discount for using this toilet.” He let go of my coat and tugged my panties over my ass.

I looked over the filthy room while he fumbled with his trousers. The sink was red with rust, the toilet brown from having never been brushed. Spiders watched with all eight of their eyes from the corners of the ceiling. A moldy curtain had been bunched to one side of a tiny shower stall.

“Call me a nigger.” His voice boomed.

Though I doubted he needed to hear that to get hard, saying it was the least of my concerns. I embellished, as he had demanded the last time. “Stupid, fucking, fat nigger. Get your nigger cock away from me!” At least it was from the heart.

His fat belly, covered by a dirty t-shirt, loped over and onto my back. Its portent I understood well. Despite a weekend of accommodating it, the size of Terry’s cock surprised. It pushed in, mocking me with its ease of entry, filling me more than I remembered. It proved how wet I was. It shamed me deeply.

Terry moaned behind me. “Gods, Cunt, I’ve been needing this more than what your husband needs.” His huge bulk shifted forward and then back. The prick between us fucked sturdily through my stuffed hole. He started slow. He snorted. “I’m a fucking romantic.”

Just get it over with. I wanted to say. I also wanted to touch myself. I did neither.

He didn’t fuck slow for very long. After ten or so thrusts he started calling me, “Bitch” and “Cunt.” The words blended together as his prick and his mouth sped up. I had to grab the sink to keep his mass from driving me into the stinking toilet. I whined and cried.

“Fucking fuck wants fifteen dollars to let me rape you. Then I have to clean the fucking room. I ought to make you do it!”

I told myself to think of Donald. I was doing this for him, and thinking of the stupid bastard might stop me from getting more aroused. I had missed a good fucking. Terry was a terrible fuck. His motions would have got him off if he had been fucking a cold watermelon. They did little for me. I imagined I was a watermelon, cold and sturdy. His prick didn’t care what I thought. It battered my supple slit. Both were hot as fresh meat. Just being filled by the girth of his meat warmed me.

“I tossed one off after you called. I’m in this for a while, Bitch.” He chortled. “Got to get my fifteen bucks worth.” He moaned after saying that. I felt his cock twitch. Maybe he wouldn’t last as long as he thought.

My face warmed red at the small pride I felt. My body shuddered under his relentless pounding. I knew more shame than pride then. When I tried to think of Donald, all I could see was a broken man, physically and emotionally. I despised him! Still, I hated Terry and what he was doing to me, worse. I didn’t care if my body responded to his deep, filling thrusts. I hated it too - in that way I did care. I hated myself, ultimately, and I honestly didn’t care if I did. I just wanted it to be over. Fresh tears reminded me that none of my rapes were my fault.

“I must be fucking you stupid, Cunt. You haven’t said boo, since I sunk my fat junk into your skinny ass. Maybe you’re starting to like it.”

In the dingy mirror above the sink I saw my face, red and tear stained, passing back and forth through its frame. “You couldn’t make me more stupid than I was for coming here.”

“Hah! You’re right about that.” He whacked the side of my thigh with a swift, fat hand.

“Ow!”

“Shut up! Let a man fuck.” He groaned and bucked his prick faster in and out of my cunt. I could barely hold onto the sink. His mass jolted me hard! I hid a groan of my own under a grunt.

“Damn your white pussy is on fire, Bitch! Unnnggghhh!!” He moaned. “It’s gripping me like it wants this.” He grunted amused.