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He laughed. Then I laughed and kissed the base of his neck.
The knocking on the bathroom door became a pounding.
The stranger put himself back into his pants, buttoned up my coat and scooped me off of the counter onto my feet. Outside the bathroom door, someone swore at us in Spanish. Oh god! How was I going to face anyone outside that door?
He picked up my bag and his own, then put his hand on my lower back as if he were the most courteous gentleman. As if sensing my terror, he said, "Just don't look them in the eye."
As if I could! My eyes were locked on the floor, and when he unlatched the door, he guided me out of the bathroom through the irritated crowd that had gathered outside.
Slut, someone hissed at me.
Puta.
Someone else giggled.
The stranger just kept pushing me forward and away from them. If I'd given it any thought, I'd realize that the same stranger who was gently guiding me through the crowd to safety was the same man that had brought me to such ruin and humiliation. But all I felt at that moment was that he was my protector and savior. He carried both our bags.
For some reason that moment lingered with me. He was a complete stranger and I'd let him fuck me in the back of a bus. Now he was carrying my bags. We'd somehow become a couple.
He took me outside into the night air, away from the view of people, and then put me up against the brick wall. Under the stars, he leaned over me and exhaled, catching his breath, trying to regain his own composure. All the while, he held me tight to his chest, and I clung to him. He took in great gulps of air and played with my hair. "You okay?"
"Sure," I answered, wrapping my arms round myself.
He smiled. "So...what's your name?"
"No names," I said, trying to smile, but my smile wobbled.
"You're right. Hotter that way. I like how you think. You're a very bad girl."
More tears came to my eyes. And this time they spilled over.
"Oh, hey, don't do that. I meant that in the best possible way."
"I am a bad girl. I'm a cheater and a—"
"Does your boyfriend fuck you as good as I just fucked you?"
No one had ever fucked me as good as he had. But I didn't want to tell him that.
"If you've got to feel guilty about it, feel guilty about it tomorrow," he said. "What's done is done, so let's not ruin the rest of the night."
"The rest of the night?"
"Two hour layover. I know I can make you come a few more times in two hours..." I followed his gaze over to the sign down the road. It was blinking neon to advertise a sleazy motel. I shook my head even as he started tugging my hand. I'd already more or less broken every rule of common sense I could think of but going off to a no-tell motel with a stranger would be the dumbest thing I'd ever done. I wasn't going there!
"Nice," I said, yanking free of his grip. "I think I see a hooker on the corner. Is that where you take all the girls you pick up at bus stations?"
He narrowed his eyes at me. "This is a first, but if I'd known I was going to meet a girl like you, I'd have taken a lot more bus rides. C'mon. A motel bed can't be worse than a bathroom countertop in a bus terminal. And you loved being fucked in a public bathroom. Every time you think about it you're going to need to rub your clit..."
I was so sore and tired. I couldn't possibly be turned on by the reminder. But my body snapped to attention like a hunting dog to the call of its master. I groaned, rubbing up against him, and he bit lightly at my neck. “C’mon, sweetheart. I want to spend the next two hours buried in your cunt, with your thighs around my waist. Don't tell me you don't want that, too..."
I didn't know what he'd done to me. He was like a drug, and I now craved his cock. Various fears flashed through my mind, but I just let him take me by the arm and lead me to the sleazy motel. Because when it came to this stranger, I just couldn't say no...
