Sin On Wheels

“I, Samantha Runyon, am a man-eater. This has been clear to me since my fifteenth year. Since I hit puberty I have been after as many men as I could manage. And I manage well; I can usually handle two to three at a time. This is my sin and I accept it. No one can judge me but myself, not that anyone would dare. I can’t say I’m too displeased with it either. I enjoy my life. I probably enjoy it more than one should. I can’t say, however, that it hasn’t been hard at times. Not just for me, but for everyone involved. I won’t let it stop me though. Nothing can stop me now.”
    I scribbled in my notebook recklessly as I steered down a Nevada highway. The wind whipped through my hair- dry as the desert itself. I longed for the wet air that hung around my once home in Georgia but wasn’t about to go back.
    I glanced up to see that I had crossed the double yellow and quickly swerved to remedy the problem. The notebook that sat lazily on my lap had never been used before today, yet it sat in my room for eons. I felt this was a good a time as any to begin journaling- hurling myself down a highway in a metal contraption at 90 miles an hour- I’d never had the best judgment. I flung the notebook into the back and focused on driving as I saw a small dot of silver in the horizon that I took to be a car.
    After a couple more tedious hours of driving I was in Las Vegas- my intended destination. I thought it was fitting after all- the home of the sinners should be my new home. All I had brought from my past tense home was my favorite chair. It rode shotgun throughout the states.
    My first stop should have been a hotel to have a place for sleep secured, but that’s just not my style. Someone was going to take me home with them and that would be that. I’d deal with lodging in the morning. I parked my car in front of a casino and went inside.
    I’ll be completely honest; I’m a hot piece of ass. I know it and the men around me know it. I’m petite with a large chest and long hair, every man’s not-so-secret dream. Plus I have a killer innocent young girl look. It’s my job to teach men to not underestimate a woman. Most men think that they are the ones who can sleep around and women are forbidden from it. I’m the one to teach them the very important lesson of the succubus. The woman who pulls you in, eats you whole, then spits out your bones. That is my calling in life and I’m proud.
    Of course I got looks around the casino, but I love the attention. I went over to a man at the bar, partially inebriated and began the play. A touch of the hand here, brushes against his thigh there, the all-important coy smile. Everything was going according to plan. I’ve found that men you’ve just met are easier to control once they’ve had a good couple of drinks in them. Then their inhibitions go by the wayside. This is perfect for me. Even with the best of men, things can get out of hand when they’re not sober. Everything becomes about pure instinct and men’s first instinct is sex…and lots of it. Again, this is perfect for me.
    My current companion’s name was Robert; he was from Iowa and was visiting on business. What kind of business happens in Las Vegas really- other than my kind and quickie weddings? But I played along, looking as though I was hanging on his every word. Men love that it boosts their ego. Basically, all men are just little boys who need positive reinforcement and a good dose of discipline if need be. I can provide both.
    I kept “listening” for quite some time. I was just about to give up on our Mr. Robert when he uttered the magic words- “Would you like to come back to my room?” ‘Of course I would’ is my only answer other than ‘I thought you’d never ask.’ I used the latter and we were on our way.
    Upon arriving to his room he apologized for the mess and chuckled nervously. I always understand my companion's reluctance. I guessed that he had never done this before and he verified my suspicions. I assured him that I didn’t expect anything out of it and he more than happily let me inside. He kept drinking until he was completely plastered. I like that best because usually they’ll pass out before or during sex and then I’ll just have a nice place to stay- it’s the sober ones you have to watch out for.
    Finally we got under way. He pulled me out of my chair and pushed me onto the bed. He was plowing away as I feigned interest. Of course we both knew that I wasn’t feeling anything, but I like to put on a show. He finished and promptly passed out on top of me. This was troubling since I couldn’t move to get him off. I pushed with all my might but he wouldn’t budge. I soon came to the conclusion that I would have to rock him off of me, after doing so with much effort I slipped into sleep.
    The next morning I made sure he was still knocked out as I pulled my chair up to the side of the bed and got into it. After freshening myself in the adjacent bathroom I rolled out of the casino and into the hot, dry streets.


…Onto the next.