Tastefully Sordid

``Oh Jim! Right there! Yes! Yes!''

Jim grunted as he thrust his erect member repeatedly into Vivian. It was not his idea of a good shag, but Vivian was available and demanded his presence when he said that he was in town. It didn't cross his mind much why they were even hooking up in such a dinghy hotel in the first place. All he knew was that Vivian was available, relatively footloose, and was always ready for a screw.

``Damn Jim, why are you slowing down? Faster you stud! Faster!''

``Shut the hell up,'' Jim snapped back as beads of sweat rolled off his forehead. ``You're cramping my style. It takes effort to push through all that tightness you know!''

``Ooo... you're getting mad! I like it when you get mad! So dominant!''

``What? You want me to smack you around a little or something?'' Jim said somewhat sarcastically as he kept on thrusting without skipping a beat.

``Nah... you'll hurt my pretty face!'' Vivian replied, giggling.

Jim grunted and penetrated deeper. Vivian shrieked in surprise before moaning in pleasure.

The hotel room door suddenly slammed open, and angry heavy footsteps trudged through the short hallway. Panicked, Jim withdrew his member as quickly as he could. The footsteps continued before ending up before the king-sized bed where Jim and Vivian were. Jim and Vivian sat there cross-legged and guilty-looking.

``VIVIAN! You fucking whore! You are MY bitch! What the fuck are you doing here?'' A deep growly voice bellowed, reverbrating the thin cheap walls of the hotel. ``WHO gave you the PERMISSION to get fucked? You are coming with ME right THIS INSTANCE.''

``And YOU,'' the owner of the angry deep voice said, directing his gaze at Jim as Vivian meekly put his clothes on. ``Get the HELL out of my sight.''

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 21-Feb-2014 20:38:54)