Trainman2k's blog post - The Balcony - INTRO

As an aide to my mental health, I have taken up 'the pen' once again and started attempting to write an erotica story.
I am hoping someone finds it worthy of their time to read this and the following chapters.

Comments and/or constructive criticism is welcomed. If you don't like my writing, don't expect me to care - just ignore it and move on,

DISCLAIMER: All persons, places, and events depicted in this story is purely fictional and any similarities to a real person, whether living or deceased, or to any location, business, or activity, is purely coincidental.

NOTICE: This is entire story line, "The Balcony", is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America as my original 'intellectual property'.

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As Art sat in the restaurant of the motel where he was staying for the week, he passed his time by watching people. It was a habit of his. He always watched people. Naturally, he watched females and enjoyed the fantasies that some gave him.

One particular female caught more than his eye on this occasion as he scanned the dining area. She was very trim and had a nice shape to her. With her hair cascading about half way down her back, he decided she was next.

He walked to where she was seated with another female, and as he approached her, his sexual thoughts were building on the ideas his eyes gave him. Her long, shapely legs and her perfectly sculptured thighs made his hormones awaken.

Knowing he was quite overweight and flabby, he had learned years ago that most young, sexy ladies didn't want to have sex with a guy like him and he had decided way back then to just be a blunt, “4F” guy – you know - “Find 'em, Feel 'em, Fuck 'em, Forget 'em”.

He had become quite brash and blunt when seeking a fuck buddy, but the fact that he had a large amount of cash on his person at all times helped get the female to ponder the possibility he offered, and usually accept.

He casually walked up beside this lady and stopped. She looked up at him with the typical 'what the hell do you want' expression that most girls gave him.

He laid a hundred dollar bill on the table in front of her, but kept his firm grip on it. He was fat, horny and wealthy, not stupid.

“How much time does this get me?” he asked her flatly.

The woman glanced up at him, back at the money, and then looked up at him again. “You think I'm a whore?!?!” she snarled, seemingly quite upset.

“No. Not at all. You are a very sexy lady, and quite honestly, I'd enjoy fucking you,” he said calmly and quietly. “but I think you'd be enchanting to talk to, and your time is worth something, isn't it?” he replied as he picked up the bill and held it directly in front of her.

“Attempting to buy sex is unlawful, you know,” she said in a voice that told him she was at least interested.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I'm not a lawyer – just a horny, lonely old fat man that was offering to compensate you for some time with you. If you offer me sex, you can bet I'll accept it, but I'm not paying for it.”

“Then what's this about?” she shot back as she grasped the hundred dollar bill that he continued to hold onto.

“It's to compensate you for your time with me, as I already told you,” he said in a voice that indicated he was getting pissed off.

“But you said you'd like to fuck me when you asked how much time this will get you with me,” she retorted.

“Yes. For time talking, as a non-professional therapist for me,” he answered. “Me telling you I want to fuck you was just a statement. I'd enjoy fucking her too,” Art said as he looked at the other woman at the table who was obviously not believing what was happening in front of her. “But I don't want to talk to her.”

His attention turned back to his original target. “You going to come to my suite and talk with me or not?” he asked very firmly.

Several seconds passed.

“If so, how long does this get me with you?” he repeated his original question.

In a very soft voice, just above a whisper, he heard her say, “Yes. I'll come.”

“Okay. Now, what's your name and how long does this get me with you?” he again asked as he waived the bill in front of her.

“My name is Lisa, and I don't know – a few hours?” she responded with.

“Okay. A few means at least three hours to me, so Lisa,” he was saying as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card and a pen. “Come to my room in an hour or so,” he finished with as he handed her a card with his room number written on the back of it. “I'll give you this as soon as you're in the room, Lisa” he told her as he folded up the money.

As he turned and began to walk away, he heard Lisa's table companion asking if she was really going to fuck him. Sadly enough, he couldn't hear her answer.

About an hour and a half later, Lisa was standing in front of the door to the room number on the card she had been given. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door.
Several seconds later, the door opened and Art was there, inviting her into his suite.

He closed and locked the door as Lisa walked toward the sofa in the room.