61. I woke up on Thursday at a defunct backwoods marina run by a different sort of breed. These people were raised in the American deep south in a different environment. They were not mainstream in any sense of the word. I had all day to get prepared for my rendezvous in Atlanta on Friday.
I spent the morning over coffee and Google. Sure, I had been to Atlanta before, but never for an event such as this. There were going to be 4 of us. Two of the "Sorry Six", as we called ourselves back then, couldn't make it. We had secured 2 suites at the Ritz-Carlton Atlanta. Two guys were avid golfers and had secured a tee time at a local course.
I did some due diligence on modeling agencies and escort services. Damn! There are some stunningly beautiful southern belles shown on the agency’s websites. I went so far as to call the lead concierge at our hotel for recommendations. We had several to choose from. It just became a matter of how much we wanted to shell out.
I was deep into my research when I heard a rapping on my boat. "Get ‘ya hand out ‘ya pants, you horny toad. I need your he'p with sumpin'." I peered through the porthole and there she was. Tiffany. I wasn't sure I wanted to wrangle with Tiffany before noon, although a nooner quickie might do. Another rap on my boat. "Come on out cocksucker. I know you're in there, mister. I ain't see 'ya cum out since I fucked 'ya last night. 'Member that? Pretty good, huh? Now stick yo' fat head out. I need yo' he'p."
Trapped and indecisive, I slid open the companionway hatch. I stepped halfway up the stairs so only my top half was visible. "Yeah? Oh, hey, Tiffany. What's up? What do you need help with?"
She started talking trash, disconnected sentences, not making any sense. Trashy blonde vacuous nonsense. I heard "car ... office computer ... brakes ... filing system" all somehow connected in this tramp's head. "I'm not sure if I understand exactly what the problem is, Tiffany."
"Figures. You're just like every other guy: you got two heads, but you only use one of 'em. I mean, what the fuck? I kin better 'splain it to 'ya if 'ya let me climb in that contraption or you cum up to the office. What’ll it be mister One-Hung-Low?"
Neither option was appealing. I opted to have her aboard rather than venture out and get trapped at the haunted shore structures. I swear, I felt the strangest, most deviant vibes from that place just standing on the patio the night before. That place is possessed.
I grabbed my coffee as she climbed aboard. Trying to keep her above deck, I sat in the cockpit, patting the seat next to me for her. "Now what's this all about, Tiffany?" I took a swig of my coffee.
"Well, ain't 'ya gonna even offer me a beverage? Show a little southern hospitality now, captain."
"Oh, shit! My bad. Would you join me in a cup of coffee?"
"I was hopin' for sumpin' a bit stronger, but coffee'll do. Maybe add a dash of moonshine or sumpin'?"
I dipped below to play bartender. As I poured her half coffee, half vodka, she suddenly appeared at the bottom of the steps, standing right behind me. I could feel her warm breath on my neck. You could smell her shankiness through the overdone magnolia perfume she was wearing. It permeated the room.
She put one hand on my hip and turned to take in her surroundings. As she stepped from the galley into the main salon she said "well, ain't this a den of iniquity. Yur fuckin' bed all there, convenient, and ready. Yur well stocked liquor cabinet. TV for those porn vids. Shit! We could cast us havin' sex onto your TV! Wouldn't that be righteous!"
"Here's your coffee. And I don't have plans to have sex with you and watch us fucking on TV. Now, what did you need my help with?"
"Hmmm .... I got so flustered gettin' asked aboard your yacht and ever'thing, I plumb forgit." She put her hand in front of her face hiding her toothless smile and bent over laughing, making sure that her tits were seen jiggling as she laughed. "Ain't that fucked up when ‘ya can't 'member something?"
"Yes, it certainly is" I said dismissively. I sat down at the nav station and reconnected with the internet, continuing my research, ignoring Tiffany. She worked on her coffee, then sat on the bed.
"You workin' on sumpin' ‘portant or ‘ya just watchin' porn? I swear ... that's all Percy does anymore. As for me, well, honey, I'd rather be doin' it than watchin' it on TV. Bless your heart. ‘Ya know what I'm sayin'? If ‘ya can put that phone down for a minute, I'll show ‘ya."
"Well, Tiffany, I'm going to Atlanta tomorrow and I'm finalizing my plans. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not watching porn right now. Later, maybe, but not now."
"Oh, shit! Maybe I should cum back later when you be watchin' porn."
"I'll tell ya, Tiffany. I plan to go to sleep early tonight. I'm flying out of Orlando for Atlanta tomorrow. I have an early start. So please don't come bothering me later."
"Is that so, mister smarty pants. I guess'n we only got one choice then. Either you share your pickle with'n me now, or I'll be back for sum action later. Now, which is it, captain?"
I didn't really want either of the options she offered. But I knew that throwing her off the boat now would only ensure that she'd come back later. And she might be drunk and pissed at me for turning her down. The better course was to deal with it now, rather than later. "Alright, Tiffany. You want my pickle? You'll have to lay on your back with your head hanging over the edge." With her in this position I could fuck her throat and manhandle her other private parts.
I commenced a raunchy, rough throat fuck. Tiffany was nothing more than a trashy skank, someone to be used and abused. So, I used her. I made her spit and gag. With her head hanging off the edge of the bed her drool was streaming down her face in big gobs, in her hair, and hanging in long threads from her face. She'd choke and I'd thrust my fat cock back down her throat. I wrapped my hand around her throat so I could feel my staff rocking in and out. My free hand found its way down her loose blouse. I was not kind to her boobs, squeezing hard and twisting her areola and nip in a valiant attempt to pull them off.
"That's it you skanky mouth whore. Take that cock. All of it. No stopping till I fill you with my cum. Take it, bitch. Take it! Swallow that cock." I kept this up until release was imminent. I pulled my dick out and shot my wad all over her face, adding to the sloppy mess already there.
After she left, I returned to my Atlanta plans. I scoured the net, looking for some appropriate escorts to entertain four horny guys, unsupervised, in Atlanta for the weekend.
Someone like Tiffany would fulfill our needs, but we deserved and could afford a bit more class. Smacking gum tramps just wouldn't do for this crowd.