Cranberry.
Nutmeg.
I tried summarizing the combination but knew I was missing something. Possibly some things. Nevertheless, I put the essential oils behind me as I met the lettering on the double doors before me.
Presidential Suite.
I lifted my fingers and rammed them into the hardwood.
Knock.
Pause.
Knock.
Pause.
Knock. Knock.
I twisted the knob and entered the suite as the combination of knocks resonated with the hotel guest. Nothing was improvised. Everything had been discussed, strategized, and confirmed.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
My heels slammed against the marble flooring. I untied the string holding my coat together. I placed the ends between my thumb and index finger, pushing the fabric backward to reveal what was underneath.
Heat soared through my body, letting me know an open trench simply wasn’t enough. I proceeded to peel the fabric from my skin, allowing it to fall onto the floor as I met a pair of enamored orbs.
Every move I made, he lost another breath. His body shook with anticipation. Intrigue. Lust. Secrecy.
I was here for one thing and one thing only. I symbolized the forbidden. I was the awakening of his fantasies. I became his quest.
I removed the necessary contents and then placed the small bag on the grand piano just before I descended the two steps that led me to my task for the night. Just like everything else put on my desk, he would get handled. And, by any means necessary.
“On your knees,” I instructed.
Slowly, my subject lowered his body to the ground. One knee at a time. Eyes still on me. Spine still straight. Shoulders still squared.
“Open your mouth.”
He complied. I was close enough to smell the desperation on his skin. My feet didn’t stop moving until my thighs met his cheeks. I dug my gloved hand into his hair and pulled his head backward. A bright light flashed in his face, blinding him temporarily. The sound of the churning film roll was empowering. Things were aligning.
“Suck it like the nasty little gobbler you are.”
He slipped his hair from between my fingers, anxious to put the eight-inch, girthy dildo that was strapped to my waist inside of his mouth.
The obnoxious light flashed again. This time, he wasn’t startled. Neither was he affected. He continued to roll his neck and enjoy the plastic tool he’d talked about at great length through texts on a secure line.
“That’s it. Just like that.”
I folded my lips into my mouth, hardly able to wrap my head around the idea of the well-connected, well-respected man on his knees with a dick lodged in his mouth. It wasn’t the act itself that left me befuddled. It was his stance on the very subject.His distaste for those who were openly gay or bisexual was the reddest flag of them all. It was the reason this was my angle, and I didn’t explore any others.
“Up.”
