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Small talk between John and myself was almost impossible. Iwanted to get fucked. He wanted to fuck me. Mutual interests."Ohh, baby, you're sooooo hot," he said as he caressed my leftbreast with the hand not driving."MMM!!" I said, as I reached down and rubbed his hard memberthrough his jeans. I licked my lips in anticipation.The car wasn't as fast as some, but we made it across theMassachusetts state line in about fifteen minutes. He pulled offthe highway and after a few minutes, we were at his hotel room.We looked to make sure no one was around. No one was. He openedthe door and I dashed inside. He walked in a bit more casually,and shut the door behind him. My walk changed from a dash into asexy sort of dance as I kneeled down on the bed.It was at it always had been. The parting of my vaginal lips byhis member, the delicious clinching of my nerves, the hotejection into the condom and the afterglow that had made me feelso soiled, so...slutty.In the beginning of my sexual. Megan was behind the camera all the time. She never wanted to be in front of it, never let the lens to peer at her, but she always wanted to be behind it. It was the filter to protect her from what the Pacific Northwest tried to push on everyone. Seattle wasn’t the city her parents grew up in, it was barely the city her grandparents lived in, and Lord knows it wasn’t the metropolis her great-grandparents retired in. The Great Emerald City was now the hub of the world after the borders being redrawn over the past half century. It was ugly and beautiful and dangerous and safe and exotic and familiar and hateful and loving all at once. She knew how to walk down the street so as not to attract the go-gangers, or Lone Star (or was it Knight Errant now? Who had the city awarded the police contract to?), or whoever else had some sort of nefarious intent within them.Tonight she had a not so nefarious intent within her. At least not tonight, doing her... normal job. She had been toying around.
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