A cheap roadside motel

“Not long, now.” I promise and give my SUV a little more gas. Now that it is clear where this is going, I want more than just a grope through her jeans. I'd hate to have to explain to a police officer that I lost control of my car because I was unbuttoning my passenger's pants. The road is busy with rush hour traffic, and Riya becomes more and more embarrassed when she realizes what I'm doing.

“Stop it ... people can see us.” She's not wrong, the car right next to Riya has a bored looking man in a rumpled suit, if he glanced sideways from his window, he'd see that by now I have three of her buttons unfastened and that my hand is pushing into the gap between her panties and her brown flesh.

“Who cares?” I chuckle more excited by this bit of exhibitionism than alarmed by it, “It's not like we know any of those people.” To my surprise I find her mons completely shaven, but I am more interested in reaching her sex than questioning her about her grooming habits. A few inches more and I find her slit already good and slick.

“Please, Mr. Patterson, I'll let you do whatever you want, but not like this - not in the car.” Riya's hands cover mine and she hunches forward on her seat to hide what is happening, but it's just a matter of time before someone catches on and positions his car to catch the show.

“You were in your lecturer's car when you blew him right?” Her eyes close and her head leans forward against the dashboard, but when my middle finger starts exploring between the folds she is squirming like a worm on a fishhook. “Did you tell him to stop?”

“You don't understand, Mr. Patterson. I was a right nerd all my life before that car ride to the beach. I'd never done more than a few awkward kisses with a boy the year prior.” Actually, that doesn't really surprise me. In spite of her Western clothing and near perfect English, I can see a lot of conservative Indian values in my new housemate. Clearly she is in way over her head, a sigle tear streaks down her cheek as she recounts the tramatic experience.

“When we first started kissing, I didn't even notice his hands moving under my skirt, and then when I felt him pull away my pants I just froze. In my mind, I thought that my private bits were a secret that only I knew about, but Mr. Patel seemed to know exactly where and how to touch me to make me melt.”

“So, you didn't tell him to stop.” To be fair, as a high school student with a much older man, she probably didn't really have much control, but I want her to experience that same helplessness now only this time with me calling the shots.

“I tried to at first, but when Mr. Patel started fingering me like this ... I just couldn't ... Oh, sacred Brahma, that feels good!” Her whole body is rocking against my hand, and I can feel the juices leaking all over my fingers. “Please Mr. Patterson, you have to stop!” Almost as though her appeal to her Hindu god had spiritual weight, a small roadside motel with a flashing neon Vacancy sign appears around the bend, and I waste no time pulling up in front of the main office.

“Wait here.” I bark and do my best to wipe off my fingers on my pants as I hurry into the small office. I've driven by motels like this at a million times before and never once ever considered stopping but this is an emergency, and I no longer care that my clean comfortable house is only ten minutes away.

“I need a room for me and my w-wife.” If the clerk notices me stumbling a little over that last word, he doesn't mention it, and three minutes later I lead Riya up the back steps to room 241. A drunk with a brown bagged bottle, grins at me knowingly when he sees me leading the much younger woman with a flushed face and unbuttoned jeans past him up the steps. He must certainly have Riya pegged as one of the many prostitutes that work this area and me an over-eager John. Come to think of it, he's not that far wrong.

“Eewww, this place stinks, Mr. Patterson.” Riya is starting to come to her senses by the time we get in the dank room. “Do you think it's clean?”