Fly on The Wall
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My name is Musy. I was born early this morning and I’ll be sexually active by the end of the day. If it strikes you as odd, I should clarify that my full name is Musca Domestica, but you can call me Musy. With a surname like “Domestica” you might assume I wasn’t actually a live person but possibly some sort of pet adopted by humans. You’d be partially correct, members of my clan spend much of their time around humans but we’re hardly pets. Actually, most humans would consider us pests.
To end the guessing game, I’m a common house fly. I have the honor of currently living in room 3204 of the Empress Hotel on Second Street in downtown Las Vegas. I have two imperatives at the moment: find a mate and watch the humans mate. A hotel room seems appropriate for the second requirement and I plan to stay here until I pass on either naturally or by some unnaturally lucky smack from a hotel guest. I can minimize the second option by not annoying the hotel guests although it’s against my nature.
I’ve found a cozy place in the corner of the room, over the king sized bed and out of the direct sunlight during the day. I’ve spent most of my time there except when I make exploratory swings through the room and attached bathroom looking for changes. I do that every ninety seconds. I don’t want to miss anything. Foraging for food isn’t a problem either. There are plenty of mites and other small insects in the corners of the room and a small plant on the desk.
Today is the first of May and it’s been pretty quiet so far, except for a quick twenty minute visit by the room attendant checking the room; generally straightening things and wiping down the surfaces with disinfectant. The stuff smells terrible and I’m inclined to stay away from it.
Things got better a little after five thirty. A gentleman carrying a briefcase and an overnight bag, used a card key to enter the room. He let the door slam behind him and dropped everything on the floor. He kicked off his shoes, got a drink from the in-room mini-fridge and sat on the bed against the headboard to watch television.
Apparently he couldn’t find anything that interested him so he took a laptop computer out of his briefcase and set up to work on the in-room desk with the TV on in the background. He worked until seven when he called down to the restaurant for room service.
He ate at the desk and returned to work. I couldn’t understand much of what he was seeing on the computer. He was still working until just before ten. I noticed the images on the computer screen had changed. He was now engrossed in watching human sex acts. Short videos of mostly women with big breasts and a few men.
He shut down the computer after awhile, stripped off his clothing and headed for the bathroom, his partial erection leading the way. He left the bathroom door ajar, so I buzzed in to see what he was up to. He was in the shower. The room was steaming up and I left to avoid the heat and damp. About ten minutes later he followed me into the bedroom, drying his hair with a towel. He found the TV remote and crawled between the sheets. He began looking again for something to watch and settled on a pay-per-view channel of adult movies. He found one he liked — “Nurse Tales” — and settled back to watch.
I watched the covers on the bed over his groin moving slowly up and down as he watched the movie. He must have been feeling heated since he tossed back the covers and I could see his fisted hand holding his penis and stroking it vigorously. Without warning, he reached for the towel he had left on the floor and covered his cock and hand. Whatever happened under the towel apparently helped him relax. Initially, his body tensed, his hips bucked several times and then he relaxed into the bed.
He tossed the towel on the floor again, pulled the covers over his naked body, turned off the TV and went to sleep. I checked out the towel when he was asleep. It had a significantly large glob of whitish ooze on it. I tasted it and was immediately sorry I hadn’t found a mate yet. It seemed a perfect place to lay eggs.
Early the next day, the man dressed quickly, packed up his stuff and left the room. He didn’t come back. Just after ten in the morning the room attendant was back. She propped open the door to the room and began to pick up after the overnight guest. She picked up the towel delicately with two fingers and reprovingly examined it. She carefully carried it to a large plastic bag on her cart and dropped it in.
She stripped the bed carefully, avoiding the presence of any suspicious stain and dropped everything in the bag with the towel. She spent the next thirty minutes thoroughly cleaning the room, replacing the bed covers, towels and consumables. She checked the mini-fridge and recorded the missing inventory before replacing it.
The rest of the day was boring as was May third and most of May fourth, except for the quick check up of the room each day. Late afternoon, Friday May fourth, things improved. A young, twenties something, lady let escort ataşehir herself into the room. She had a small overnight bag with her which she unpacked into the dresser under the TV.
She stripped off all her clothes which she stuffed into the overnight bag and climbed up on the bed without pulling back the bed covers. She lay naked on the bed, very quiet, with her eyes closed and her right hand searching for something between her legs. When she found what she was searching for, she let out a prolonged squeal as her body tensed and then relaxed completely on the bed, falling asleep for a short while.
After her nap, she headed for the bathroom after removing a small zippered pouch from a corner of her overnight bag. She showered, washed her hair and toweled it almost dry afterward. She collected the desk chair from the room and sat on it in front of the bathroom mirror. She dried her hair with the hotel hair drier and combed it out. She removed a number of small bottles and tubes from her zippered pouch. She spent the next thirty minutes powdering the shine from her forehead and cheeks, adding lines to her eyelids and eyebrows and color to her cheeks and lips.
She took a few minutes to appraise the changes. She finished combing her hair into a style she approved of, with a lock of hair hanging over her left eye, and took a second appraisal. I have to admit the change was significant. She had transformed herself from the girl up the street to the hustler on the street corner.
She dressed in the clothing she had placed in the dresser. She donned a black, push up bra with a front clasp and pushed and prodded her breasts until she felt they were perfect. She added a black thong that was so small I don’t know why she bothered. She covered her underwear with a sleeveless, almost transparent, blouse with a half dozen buttons in the front, half of which she left unbuttoned. Her black bra was very apparent through the material of the blouse and her cleavage visible in the V-shaped opening.
She added a mini-skirt that hardly covered her ass and revealed her thong if she bent over half way. She pulled a pair of four-inch, “fuck me,” heels from the bag and put them on. She stood back from the mirror in the bathroom and approved of how she looked.
It was now after nine in the evening. She put the chair back in front of the desk, smoothed the covers on the bed, grabbed a tiny clutch bag, put her room key in it and headed out for the evening.
Things were quiet until just after midnight. I was roused from my nap in my corner nest by laughing outside the room door and some latch rattling. When the door swung inward, the previous room occupant danced in. She was laughing inanely and holding her heels in her hand. Her hair was slightly messy, her lipstick smeared and her blouse mostly unbuttoned. A man at least ten years older than her followed her into the room. His club tie was pulled down in front and the top three buttons on his dress, white, button down shirt were undone. He was holding his suit jacket over his shoulder with one hand and the room card key in the other as if he had to help the woman open the hotel room door. The look on his face was somewhere between disbelief and expectation. The bulge in his pants spoke only of expectation.
I noticed a small, winged companion came through the door with them.
As the door swung closed behind them, the woman tossed her shoes on the floor and moved close to the man. She began to pull on his tie and unbutton his shirt. She pulled his shirt from the waist of his trousers and said excitedly, “Come on. Let’s get your clothes off.”
When the man began to help her undress him, she stepped back and began to take off her own clothes. She pulled the blouse over her head without completely unbuttoning it, unhooked her bra and tossed it aside and removed her skirt. Her thong was missing.
She was done before him and she began working on his belt and then untying his shoes. Together, they managed to remove all his clothing. Naked, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. As their tongues tangoed in his mouth, she used one hand to waltz his erection between her legs. She stroked his erection with her thighs and when he tried to change to angle to his advantage, she pulled him to the bed. “Not here,” she said. “In the bed.”
She pulled the covers off the bed and dragged him onto the sheet on top of her. Seconds later, he was buried inside her and they were humping in tandem. In less than three minutes, he filled the room with vocal cries as he came forcefully inside her and rolled off, panting.
“Sorry,” he managed to say. “It’s just that you’re so fantastic.”
“No worries,” she replied, “we’ve got hours.”
She moved on her knees next to him and began to work on his flaccid cock with her mouth and fingers. About fifteen minutes later, he was ready for round two and she straddled him and settled down on top of him. He reached up and fondled both breasts and she bounced on kadıköy escort his groin.
His endurance was much improved and they continued for ten or more minutes before she had a repeat of her earlier experience alone on the bed.
My own experience was also improved. The companion that had joined them as they entered the room was another Musca Domestica, a male. I could tell because his eyes were close together. He buzzed by me several times to get my attention. I moved to the window sill, communicating that he had been successful.
On the bed, the human couple had rolled over and the man was forcing himself inside her repeatedly from behind. My male companion had joined me on the window sill. He bumped me and climbed on my back. I was able to penetrate him and withdraw his sperm. It was quite a sight; I was copulating with my new friend, while the couple on the bed was similarly engaged. Actually, the man finished before we did, regaling us with his vocals before falling on the bed alongside the woman.
I checked him out a short time later and it appeared he was asleep. A gentle snore confirmed my conclusion. However, the woman was fully awake. She waited almost a half hour and then poked and prodded the guy, including pulling on his penis to check the depth of his sleep.
When she was convinced he was out for the count, she got off the bed gingerly and headed for his trousers. She took his wallet from a pocket and removed the money and credit cards she found inside before returning it. She also found a wad of twenties wrapped in a handkerchief in a rear pocket and took it too. Based on what she found and where she found it, I concluded that both of them had been in this situation before.
The money and credit cards ended up in her overnight bag.
Back on the bed, she waited a short time and then began to work on his penis until it was erect again although the owner remained asleep. Never the less, she straddled him and settled down on him again. She moved slowly, encouraging him to wake up and enjoy her attention. Eventually, he did, slowly becoming aware of being inside her again and then fully participating. I don’t know what she did to him but he didn’t last long. I guessed that she was going for quick and awake and not exhausted and asleep.
When they were finished, he rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. “No. No. You can’t go to sleep. You have to leave,” she exhorted him.
“Now?” he asked.
“Now,” she said.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he complained.
“I know, but my husband is meeting me early this morning and I don’t know how early. Sometimes he comes in before four am.”
“Shit,” he said.
“I know. It sucks but at least we had fun together,” she consoled him.
He got off the bed slowly. “You have to hurry,” she urged him. “It’s already late.”
He went into the bathroom and peed. Then he got dressed. She held the door for him and kissed him as he left the room.
Five minutes later, she was dressed, packed and on her way out the door. She had wiped off all the surfaces she had touched. I noticed she didn’t turn right, toward the elevators before the door closed but turned left toward the stairs. My companion followed her out the door.
The entertainment started about a half hour later. There was a banging on the door and then the door opened. The man had returned with a hotel security officer and a city policeman. Neither of his companions seemed surprised to find the room empty. The man was complaining loudly that he had been robbed and was without credit cards or money. The officer told him there was little he could do but the man could come down to the station and file a report. I could hear the unpleasant conversation long after the door closed as the trio waited for the elevator.
The next several days were quiet and boring. There was a weekend housekeeper who conscientiously scoured every surface, a service the previous resident would have appreciated.
It was Tuesday, May eighth, when the next guests arrived. Mid afternoon, the door opened and an elderly couple entered. Elderly is probably not the right adjective. They appeared to be in their fifties, not retired but probably empty nesters on a vacation to Las Vegas. They both had more weight than in their earlier years but not too much. Just a little here and there in all the right places and they appeared fit, as if they maintained a gym membership that they actually used.
Neither unpacked. They just arranged their suitcases around the room on the floor. Apparently, they had just flown in and the woman wanted to shower before anything else. She was naked, bent over her valise when her husband approached her from the rear, also naked.
“What the hell are you doing?” she half yelled.
“It’s Vegas. I’m just setting the mood,” he responded.
“Can’t a girl get clean first?” she asked.
“Sure, but you may have to shower again later,” he replied.
“In your dreams,” she said. maltepe escort bayan “Now let me get that shower,” she added.
He followed her into the bathroom. When she turned around he was there, right behind her again. “You are persistent,” she said.
“Just trying to set the mood for the rest of the week,” he said.
“You know you’re going to get laid more times this week than you have all year so far, don’t you?”
“Come on, honey,” he implored. “Just a couple of strokes to get things started.”
She walked back into the bedroom. “Just a couple of strokes?” she repeated.
“Sure. I promise,” he said.
She bent over the bed. “Be quick,” she said. “I want to spend some time at the tables and go to the buffet before the show this evening,” she reminded him.
He moved up behind her, rubbed his erection between her cheeks and slipped inside her more easily than he expected. “She wanted this,” I concluded from his demeanor.
A dozen strokes later, he was ready to quit. He moved back slightly and started to withdraw. She reached back and grabbed his hips. “No you don’t Buster,” she complained. “You can’t quit until I cum or you cum inside me. Either is okay but I’m not stopping without some satisfaction.”
Buster redoubled his efforts and just as she grabbed the sheets and pushed back against him with her release, he came inside her. They stayed together for a few seconds before he slipped out of her and she straightened up. She kissed him on the lips. “Satisfied?” she asked.
“That was pretty good,” he said.
“It was. Thank you. It was a good idea,” she commented as she headed for the shower.
Thirty minutes later, they were both showered, dressed and on the way out of the room. I hadn’t been outside the room yet, so I followed them.
The three of us rode down together in the elevator. The woman headed for the Blackjack tables and Buster headed for the nearby lounge. They had agreed to meet in an hour to head for the buffet. The casino seemed noisy so I headed for the lounge with Buster.
In the lounge, Buster took a seat on a stool at the bar next to a couple about his own age. He had been sipping his scotch and soda for a few minutes when the woman next to him, got up to visit the ladies room. I watched him admire her huge tits and slender hips and his eyes followed her as she walked away.
Her husband moved over to the vacant seat next to Buster and asked, “You like what you see?”
“What?” Buster replied.
“You like looking at my wife’s tits and ass?” he clarified.
“I wouldn’t have put it that crudely,” Buster replied. “She’s your wife.”
“It’s okay. You can say whatever you want and look as long as you like,” the man told him. “She loves the attention.”
“You’re not kidding?” Buster stated.
“I’m not. You can have her if you want,” he added.
“I am. This is Vegas. That’s one of the reasons we come here. Why are you here?” he asked.
“I’m here with my wife. We like to come to Vegas for the gambling.”
“And the sex?”
I watched Buster considering his answer. If I had to guess he was thinking, “He’s right about Vegas.” “And the sex,” he agreed.
“So we’re on the same page,” the stranger stated. “By the way, I’m Jake and my wife’s Beth.”
“Harold,” Buster said, “and my wife is Adele.”
Beth returned, Jake moved back to his original stool and she sat between them.
“Beth,” said Jake, “Harold here and I have been talking. Seems he and his wife, Adele, are in Vegas for similar reasons as we are.”
Beth turned to Harold. “Really?” she said as she separated her legs slightly and fiddled with the buttons on her blouse.
“I think so,” Harold managed to answer.
They talked for the next half hour. Beth was very touchy. She frequently put her hand on Harold’s and Jake’s thighs and she managed to unbutton the top three buttons on her blouse. Her tits were huge and the chasm between them rivaled the best man cave. I wasn’t going near them. I’d be crushed. Harold tried, and failed, to keep his erection from becoming noticeable. Adele noticed and squeezed his thigh several times to insure his discomfort continued.
Adele wandered into the lounge holding a half dozen green chips and a single black one. She located Harry at the bar and walked over to him. Harry moved over and offered his seat next to Beth to Adele. He introduced everyone. I watched Harry, fascinated watching Jake check out Adele. Both he and Adele were proud of Adele’s superstructure and it appeared Jake was appreciative as well. Jake gave Harry a thumb’s up and Harry returned a nod of understanding.
Harry noticed the chips in Adele’s hand. “You got lucky at the tables,” he said.
“Not in the way you think. I won some of this but this one,” she said while holding up the black chip, “was a gift from the guy next to me.”
“I don’t understand,” said Harry.
“He pushed it over to me and offered me an alternative to Blackjack.”
“Seems forward for someone who doesn’t know you.”
“It might be but this is Vegas. I pushed it back and told him I’d just got into town and I need to time to adapt. He pushed it right back and he was patient and maybe we’d cross paths later in the week.”
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