Welcome to Scribd, the world's digital library. Read, publish, and share books and documents. See more
Standard view
Full view
of .
Look up keyword
Like this
0 of .
Results for:
No results containing your search query
P. 1
Motel Daze

Motel Daze

Ratings: (0)|Views: 436|Likes:
Published by sbarret

More info:

Published by: sbarret on Oct 14, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


Read on Scribd mobile: iPhone, iPad and Android.
download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
See more
See less





Copyright 2005By Sandra Barretsbarret_fic@yahoo.comSpecial thanks to Matthew Hagan, and Jennis for beta reading.Bette emphasized her frustration by dropping the black, overstuffed luggage as soon as she passedthe threshold into the motel room, and then she kicked it into the open closet on her right for goodmeasure."Are you fine-tuning your petulance or did you forget to take your menopause meds again?" askedher partner, Clara, who sauntered into the cramped motel room as if it were a luxury suite at theHilton instead of a beige box at the E-Z Stay Motel. Clara squeezed past Bette and plopped down onthe queen-sized bed that dominated the room. She bounced up and down on the bed and thenpatted the brown and rust bedspread beside her. "The bed's firm enough, come check it out."Bette held firm to her sour mood and paced the gap between the bed and the other three walls of theroom. She paused before a faded painting of a country cottage smothered in barely discernable wildflowers. "What's this?" she asked, more to herself than to Clara."It's just a painting, Bette."Bette pulled a pair of gray-rimmed reading glasses out of her shirt pocket and leaned into thepainting. "It's paint-by-number," she announced a moment later."No it's not." Clara scooted her plump frame to the top of the bed and fluffed two pillows behind herback, making herself comfortable. "Come over here and have a nice rest with me. We've been drivingfor hours.""It is paint-by -number. See here," Bette pointed at the thatched roof on the cottage. "They didn't useenough yellow to cover the number 7 underneath.""Fine," Clara sighed. "The room is crap on a stick, okay? But the Weston over booked, and we arrivedtoo late to hold our reservation." She sat up, patting the bed again. "We're stuck here for the night,hon, so how about we just go to bed?"Bette folded her reading glasses back into her shirt pocket and walked to the edge of the bed as herlover unclasped her long gray hair and let it cascaded over the off-white pillow behind her. Bette letout a long, slow breath and the start of a smile curled the edges of her thin lips. She bent over Claraand kissed the top of her head. "Okay, Mrs. Happy, let's go to bed." She glanced at the red, glowingdigits of the motel room clock radio. "It's past midnight anyway.""And you know your grand kids will be here at the crack of dawn," added Clara. Bette's face crinkledinto a full-blown grin at the thought of her two young grandkids. They and their mother were the onlyreason she didn't regret her early, failed marriage. Clara scooted to the edge of the bed, and Bettegave her a hand in getting up."How's your back?" Bette asked as she led the way into the white-tiled bathroom.Clara stooped over their luggage and tugged at it. "Stop that," Bette berated. "You'll hurt your backagain," She pushed her way past Clara. She stooped down to unzip the luggage and pulled out theirindividual toiletry bags, a hard, faux-leather case for her and a paisley zip bag. She passed the bagup to Clara, who was pushing a fist into her own lower back. "So your back is that good, eh?"Clara grimaced. "Not too bad for seven hours in the car." She stepped into the bathroom, and Bette
squeezed in beside her. They stood side by side over the sink, and Bette studied her partner as theybrushed. The shorter woman showed no signs of pain, but Bette knew better. She'd make sure Claratook some Aleve before they went to sleep.Bette raked a free hand through her short, nearly white hair. "It's about time I got this mop cut.""Leave it be," said Clara, brushing her fingers through Bette's hair. "Just because it's curling over yourears doesn't mean it's too long already.""It aggravates me.""I think it's cute," Clara announced as she ambled back into the main room.By the time Bette finished in the bathroom, she could hear the quiet snores of her lover in bed. Shechanged into her pajamas, the creased pair that she wore only when they traveled. Clara, who sleptin an oversized t-shirt, would laugh at her in the morning, but Bette wouldn't wear her usual boxers tobed. What if someone came into the room and there she was, in just her boxers? She pulled backthe covers and slipped quietly into the bed, as quiet as the creaking box spring would let her, that is.Bette woke up in the night to the dark silhouette of her lover, who stood in front of the window's opendrapes. Moonlight filtered in around Clara, casting the room in patterns of gray."Can't sleep?" Bette asked."It's my back again," said Clara, turning around."You didn't take any medication before bed, did you?" Bette accused as she kicked back the coversand sat up.Clara just shrugged. "I took some a half hour ago.""Hmph." Bette padded over to their half-opened luggage and fumbled around until her hand graspedanother zipped bag. She pulled it out and waved it at Clara. "Some of us think ahead," she declared."I noticed you'd packed the massage oil," said Clara, laughing."Come back to bed, and I'll give your back a massage," said Bette as she unzipped the bag to pull outthe bottle of lavender oil. To her surprise, she pulled out an entirely different bottle that was also inthe small bag. She held it up to her lover with a raised eyebrow.Clara shrugged her shoulders as she passed by and lay on the bed. "You're not the only one whocan think ahead."Bette shook her head, leaving the bottle of scented lube on the nightstand and pulled out themassage oil that she'd been searching for. She straddled her lover's legs and lifted the oversizedt-shirt. Spilling a small amount of oil in her hand, she slowly worked at Clara's lower back muscles."Oh, that's good," Clara moaned. "Can you go a little lower?"Bette gingerly lifted her lover's panties and pulled them low over her hips. Clara squirmedunderneath her. "Am I doing something wrong?" asked Bette, somewhat annoyed."Just lift off me a minute will you?"Bette rolled off of Clara, and her lover moved with a quickness that suggested her back pain hadlessened dramatically. When Bette watched a pair of panties fly across the motel room, she knewthat her lover was no longer in significant pain. With a crooked smile, Bette shifted to lie down next toClara. "Not needing a massage anymore?" she asked.Clara drew slow, languorous circles across Bette's stomach. "I wouldn't say that," she whispered,
her voice deep and husky. Clara's fingers toyed with the top button on Bette's pajamas. "You had towear these, eh?" she teased."You know I do whenever we travel. What if someone comes knocking at the door?" Bette felt awelcome heat growing between her thighs as Clara slowly worked each button loose."No one's coming tonight," said Clara, pushing Bette's top off her shoulders. Bette pulled it the rest of the way off, and it joined Clara's discarded panties. Clara's dilated steel-blue eyes stared down atBette as she cupped one of Bette's breasts and rolled her thumb over the hardened nipple. Bettesighed, arching into Clara's hand. Not satisfied with the distance between them, Bette pulled herlover closer. The weight of the other woman settled on top of her, and Bette moaned aloud. "I love thefeel of your body."Clara chuckled, "No one would believe a butch like you could be a bottom."Bette nibbled her lover's earlobe. "Too much talking." She slipped her hand under Clara's t-shirt androamed over the soft skin until she found a full, round breast in her hand. She caressed the warmfleshy underside until she felt Clara's hips pushing hard against her thigh. She dropped her handlower, brushing against Clara's mound. "Just a minute," she said, shifting to the side and reachingfor the bottle of lube on the nightstand. She squeezed out a small amount and warmed it with herthumb and forefinger. The scent of strawberries drifted up to her.Clara tugged at Bette's pajama bottoms. "Don't you think these should come off?""Um, I need a little help with that," said Bette, keeping her moistened fingers in the air while she triedto pull off her pajama bottoms with one hand. Clara sat up and tugged them off for her. "Thank youkindly," said Bette as Clara lay next to her again. She leaned into Clara, kissed her chin, then hercheek, and finally, brushed her lips teasingly across Clara's. Clara pulled her closer and their lipspressed together. Bette opened to Clara's probing tongue and for a moment, was lost in her lover'spassionate kiss.Then Bette focused on Clara's needs. She gently rolled her lover to the side and slipped hermoistened finger along Clara's outer folds. Her lover moaned, pushing her hips up to meet her. Bettetraced and teased Clara until she felt her lover's thighs trembling. With years of experience guidingher, Bette dipped one finger into Clara, feeling the other woman's natural moistness surround her.Clara held her tight, thrusting against Bette's palm. Working in a faster rhythm, Bette glided in and outof her lover, brushing her thumb against Clara's clitoris with each plunge. Perspiration dampedClara's exposed chest, where the t-shirt had ridden up. Bette's fingers moved faster, feeding therising passion in her lover, until she felt Clara's body spasm beside her as she climaxed.Bette slowed down as Clara relaxed in her arms. She pulled her lover close, but didn't withdraw,enjoying the feel of Clara's muscles tighten and relax in a slow rhythm around her finger. When Clararecovered, she slowly pulled Bette's hand away, satiated. They lay in each other's arms quietly for atime, until Bette heard Clara's breathing deepen. She smothered her low chuckle in the pillow, notwanting to wake her lover again. She carefully rolled Clara to the side; just enough to reach thediscarded bed blanket and cover the two of them. She squinted at the clock. They had three morehours before her grandchildren would show up. She'd sleep for an hour or so, and then get ready,she told herself.#A knocking sound interrupted Bette's dreams. Someone pushed against her shoulder. She rolledaway, muttering under her breath. The offending hand pushed at her again."Come on, get up." Clara's urgent voice broke through Bette's sleepiness. She opened her eyes,blinking at the extreme brightness of the room. Where were they again?

Activity (4)

You've already reviewed this. Edit your review.
1 thousand reads
1 hundred reads
Edwin Jordan liked this
Ayie Hernandez liked this

You're Reading a Free Preview

/*********** DO NOT ALTER ANYTHING BELOW THIS LINE ! ************/ var s_code=s.t();if(s_code)document.write(s_code)//-->