Two Fifty

She forcefully inhales the man’s hot, ashtray flavored breath; the only thing strong enough to cover up his vomit inducing body odor. The music from the house party downstairs blares loudly causing the cheap flower pictures in the bedroom to vibrate crookedly on the wall. Beads of sweat drip off the man’s balding forehead and rain down on her chest as he un-rhythmically fucks her on an old waterbed. The wooden frame of the aqua filled mattress creaks with his every unfulfilling thrust, keeping her mind miles away from satisfaction. “Who the hell still sleeps on a waterbed?” the woman thinks to herself as she bites her bottom lip and involuntarily scrunches up her face in discomfort. A sense of relief comes across her as she feels his back muscles tense and his body becomes rigid. He picks up the pace, continuing to exhale his vile air up her nostrils while grabbing her hair aggressively, and finishing off with some dominatrix style bed talk, “That’s it bitch......you like that?...huh?... you like that, you fuckin’ little whore?”