I used to live on the top floor of a two family house owned by the woman who lived on the first floor. Her name was Margret, she was in her 40’s, and living off of some kind of disability that I could only assume was alcoholism, an addiction to pain killers, and nicotine. Margret’s days were spent drinking rum, smoking cheap cigarettes, popping pills, and harassing me for rent money that I already paid her. I felt bad for her daughter Julie, who on my nights off, I would often see leaving the house to smoke a joint in the garage, which was a pleasant past time, but really it was an escape from her mothers late-night visitors from the bar who would trade pills for some well smoked leather lined vagina that has been a popular pit stop for every trucker who stopped at her favorite bar. I would often join Julie in the garage for a private smoke session on those nights.

While working my usual 3rd shift, Margret entered the hotel with a drunk guy whose shirt was mostly untucked with a tie that was hanging loose. It was obvious the man met Margret after a consuming a plentiful amount of booze; his beer goggles were working overtime. While asking me for a room, he kept pointing at Margret, and saying: “Can you believe how smoking hot this woman is?” I resisted the sudden nausea that I experienced as he kept repeating that to me; drunkenly amazed with this luck. I couldn’t imagine what his beer goggles were going to make her truck stop vagina seem like.

Margret had no shame. She was drunk, and stoned out of her mind, and I don’t think she was actually aware of who I was, and I wanted to get them in a room before she figures out that she knows me. I offered the poor bastard a low rate, because I figured he might need the extra cash to pay for his prescription for whatever they give someone after getting whatever is crawling around inside the sperm pouch she carries between her legs. I sat at the desk all night waiting for the morning walk of shame, and the wait was well worth it. The guy kept his head down as he returned his room key to me; his eyes scanning the desktop as his subconscious was helping him put the pieces of last night’s memories back together. Disgust and dread radiated from his face. Margret wandered into the lobby as I offered him a hot breakfast, and he nearly sprinted out the door. The look on Margret’s face as she froze like a statue in front of me said it all; she finally recognized me. “Don’t tell my daughter you saw me here.” She said, just before turning away from me in to fill up on the complimentary breakfast.

Julie was drinking coffee and smoking one of her morning joints on the porch when I parked my car. I sat on the porch swing next to her, and she handed me the joint. “My whore mother didn’t come home last night.” She said. “She fucked some guy at the hotel last night with some who seems suicidal.” I said. “Why was he suicidal?” She asked. Letting out my hit, I said: “Because he woke up and realized how badly alcohol impaired his judgment.” Julie laughed. “At least I was able to enjoy my birthday this year without having to listen to her screwing fat, gross pigs.” I wished her a happy birthday, and offered to make her breakfast, and share some of the much better stuff that I was smoking upstairs.

The aroma of bacon filled the air as I stirred the scrambled eggs in the pan that sat alongside the sizzling bacon. Julie rolled a joint on the kitchen table. “Nobody has ever made me breakfast before.” She said. “I guess this guaranteed to be the best homemade breakfast made in your honor, that you have ever had.” Julie set aside the joint rolling tray, to make room for the hot plate of bacon and eggs I presented to her. The most genuine smile that I have ever seen from her, appeared on her face. It was a very attractive look for her. The meal was satisfying; Julie ate it up in true stoner fashion; she shoveled it into her mouth; rolling her eyes in amazement with every bite.

Breakfast was immediately followed by relaxing on the sofa to watch TV, and smoke the joint Julie rolled before breakfast. Foggy beams of light from the window hung, still in the air, as smoked danced freely within them. “I can’t go anywhere without feeling people staring at me. Everyone knows the neighborhood whore’s daughter.” She said. “I can certainly understand how that could suck.” I replied. “Women look at me like I’m the one who fucked their husband, and all the men look at me like they are imagining themselves fucking me.” I said: “Well that last one is pretty much a guy thing in general. You’re 18, and guys like to fantasize about being the first to deflower a fresh young vagina.” Julie laughed, because she knows it’s true. “I pretty much took care of that myself. I can’t meet a local guy my age to sleep with, I’d be branded as the new whore in town after sucking his dick one time.” She complained. I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards me. “Maybe you just need to know a guy who appreciates his privacy as much as you do.” Julie positioned herself on her back, and rested her head on my lap. I looked down at her face, and she looked back at me with a soft gaze. I placed my hand on her belly, and gently lulled her shirt; exposing her creamy soft skin. Using the tip of my finger, I made circles around her belly button. Julie gave me a blushing smile. “Take your shirt off.” I insisted. Julie pulled her shirt over her head; she let it fall over the edge of the sofa, and proceeded to unlatch the front of her bra.

Her small round breasts rested on her chest. She had beautiful little pink nipples. My hand slowly explored her body, as my fingers performed their gentle dance; gliding along her creamy smooth flesh. Julie closed her eyes as my fingers found her breasts. Her chest rose and sank with increased rhythm as I enjoyed the feel of her breasts, and nipples that became firm when I teased them. Using my free hand, I loosened the button on her pants, unzipped the fly, and slid my hands, slowly between her thighs.

Julies breathing increased more when my fingers discovered her clitoris; she bit the corner of her bottom lip as my fingers gave it a gentle massage. The back of her head slowly rolled around my lap, and her legs pressed tightly together as her hips began it’s tremble; she pulled down her pants, and kicked them to the floor. My dick pressed uncomfortably against my pants. I started to loosen my belt, and Julie quickly turned onto her belly, and took over the task of freeing my dick.

Julie’s head bobbed and swayed with gentle fluid-like motion; her tongue sent pulses of ecstasy through my shaft. I heard the door close, downstairs. Margret finally made it home, and suddenly Julie’s already amazing blow job felt more satisfying. The sound of Margret’s footsteps could be heard on the stairs. I turned Julie onto her back, and slid my hard cock into her tight pink pussy. Julie let out am adorable whimper as I began rotating myself inside her. I could hear Margret moving her way towards my door. “I know you’re home.” She yelled from the stairwell. “I need rent money!” Julies body tensed at the sound of her mother’s voice, and I started to grind harder. Margret banged her fist on the door, and Julie whispered: “Fuck me harder.” Margret pounded on the door again, and I started trusting deep into Julies soft, swollen pussy; her face was ready to scream, and she covered her face with her arms. Margret called for me another time, and I felt Julie suddenly lose control of her body as she began shaking intensely as her orgasm overwhelmed her. Her pussy gripped me tight; the sensation sent me into madness and I began pounding harder and harder until my body transformed into an explosive energy. Triggering an orgasm that created a rush I have never experienced before.

The two of us embraced each other; oblivious to the world around us. Margret’s pounding faded, and I held Julies naked body close to mine.