I Fucked The Hotel Manager For A Free Room pt. 1

In the grimy, fluorescent-lit corridor of a seedy motel, I crouched low, my skirt hiked up, panties pulled aside, ass in the air like a whore in heat. The manager, a greasy fuck with beady eyes, knelt behind me, his fat fingers digging into my hips. He rammed his thick, veiny cock into my pussy, making me grunt with each brutal thrust. The carpet burned my knees, but the pain only heightened the filthy pleasure. I could hear the distant hum of the highway, the occasional car passing by, oblivious to the raw, animalistic fucking happening right here in the hallway. His balls slapped against my clit, sending jolts of electric pleasure through my body. I reached down, rubbing myself furiously, matching his savage rhythm. The manager grunted like a pig, his breath hot and rancid on my neck. He grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my throat. I moaned louder, begging for more, for harder, for deeper. His cock pounded into me, a relentless, meaty piston, fucking me into the dirty carpet. I could feel his cock swelling, his breaths becoming ragged. He was close. I pushed back against him, taking every inch of his dirty fuck pole, feeling it hit the deepest parts of me. He roared, his body convulsing as he exploded inside me, filling my cunt with his hot, sticky cum. I collapsed onto the carpet, my body shaking with the aftermath, my pussy dripping with his seed. The manager stood up, zipping his pants, leaving me there like the slut I was, a promise of a free room the only reward for my debased performance.