By the time Vanessa woke up I was a half hour through a harrowing battle with my hemorrhoids, leaving the toilet bowl looking like the aftermath of a homemade abortion. I was sick of the drink, sick of the travel, sick of the violence, and sick of Vanessa. She knocked twice on the door and I barked back that I needed more time, reading the labels on all the tiny hotel bottles before flushing the toilet three or four times. Vanessa was shamelessly squatting over the ice bucket when I opened the door, unable to wait for me. The indignity was a sobering contrast to her beauty, unbecoming to her like a baby covered in obscene tattoos. Sometimes you wished you didn't know someone so well that they could piss in a bucket in front of you without concern. She was so much easier to lust for when I wasn't intimately familiar with every ingrown hair, pimple, and nasty habit she had. The hypocrisy of these critical thoughts weren't lost on me as I stood in the bathroom doorway with a handful of toilet paper up my ass to stem the blood flow.
"We have to leave today" I told her. "I don't feel safe any more. I'll drive the first leg." I almost never drove, but I figured it would keep her protests to a minimum and allow me to put some distance between us and the bar from last night. I knew that since we were strangers in this town and paid all cash the cops probably wouldn't have much to go on, but these things are hard to predict in the decent parts of america. The locals are used to a fistfight or two, but clubbing a business owner in clear view of dozens of witnesses might get noticed around here.
"Ok, but after a shower I need some laundry done. This place will do it for you! I read in the booklet on the table that they will pick up your clothes and bring them back clean for free!" in one quick motion she had her nightgown off and tossed to the floor, her big ass covered in fresh bruises from the twenty minutes of sloppy fucking I managed before passing out last night. She wore the bruises well and it made me hard, so I jerked off into the nightgown while she showered with the door open then hid the evidence in a laundry bag like an embarrassed teenager. If she saw me she would be insulted and I would have to spend the next half hour explaining that I still enjoyed fucking her.
After her shower I convinced Vanessa to wait until the next stop to do laundry, and loaded the car will all our bags and bottles. I wanted to get far on this drive, far enough that we would find ourselves deep in the desert in a town small enough to not have a jailhouse. Vanessa would be the prettiest girl in town, and I could parade her around like an owner with a first prize poodle on a leash. She finished paying our tab and climbed into the passenger seat.
"Jesus christ. Seven bottles of whiskey in three days. And we even went out one night!" she said, annoyed at the cost of all my shitty habits. "Fuck you. If my drinking isn't to your liking then I might just take all the money and leave you in the street to support yourself the only way you know how. Only here the men won't pay as well as dear old dad!" I regretted it before the words even left my mouth. Vanessa stared down into the seat and started sobbing loudly as I started the car and pulled away.
She cried for a good thirty minutes and made me feel like shit, but I couldn't apologize. I just turned the radio up and we drove for six hours straight without even talking until I saw a tourist trap motel on the outskirts of an indian reservation. There was nothing to see for miles except red dirt and trees that looked like they might have never had leaves on them. The rooms were all shaped like teepees and painted with horizontal red stripes and blue diamonds, with poles sticking out of the stucco tip for an "authentic" touch.
Vanessa looked weary as she dragged herself out of the car and followed me silently into the motel lobby house with the perpetually lit VACANCY sign hanging out front. Before Vanessa could get her purse open and ask for a room I stepped forward and said "My beautiful wife and I would like to stay in your finest teepee, sir." I put my arm around her waist and pulled her to my side, and I could feel her tremble. "Certainly. Please follow me." He stated loudly as he plucked a set of keys from a nail in the wall. "The honeymoon hut! Our finest accommodations!" As we followed him out the door Vanessa leaned into me and I felt her tears through my shirt.
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