She walked in, to our suite which over looked the Atlantic…
I was in town for another conference, another meeting, for another will… But this time felt different… Maybe it was knowing we were both here, allowed to share the (very nice) view, and unwind the chaos of the day to day travel in ways we only do.
… I was locked on the horizon that Hollywood, Florida, USA, Earth afforded me when the click of the door clacked, breathing deep with ease knowing Daddy’s girl made it back to him yet again. Proudly I waited. Her scamper across the concert floor was indistinguishable, like a well crafted password, verifying authenticity and submission to the evening to come. Her arms wrapped and hands grabbed to my pectorals and clavicle… Her face flat against my back, her warmth and presence radiating through my cotton button up.
Her purr prompted my pulling her to the front. Her necklace clattered with such mystic beauty I had to push her back to see what made such a harmonic sound. I pulled her back quickly, and angled our view looking out together. I kiss her forehead…
The next several hours were spent in the lobby restaurant, drooling over wood fired gluten-free vegan, a cocktail, and delicious locked-eyes conversation… The precum from the staring alone was enough to thank goodness for the early darkness. On the way back to the room he was told to walk closely in front of me - she thought it was a game, I knew it was to protect the now stained trousers from the bellhop.
The door latched behind us and her necklace immediately became her leash. My hands traveled down her chest, to the slit in her skirt, pulling it up, my hot hands parting her already hot, ready thighs…
The door knocks. I lead her over to the couch, bend her over. “Stay. You’re in full view of the door, Kitten, don’t move, be a good little girl.” My hands graze her exposed ass as I walk to open the door. I open, I sign and thank, I close the door.
I place the delivery on the night stand. The sweet smell is enough to make me ill, but this one… This one… Is a glutton for it. And I, for one, wanted to see if it matched her sexual proclivities…
part one my writing atlantic ocean views 📿
He took the earliest flight out of Dodge, it was cold and he hadn’t slept sufficiently the “night before. Uber picked him up at 03:15. The airport was quiet for a Monday, as he pulled his carry on through the corridor. Security was quick, even the pat down was seamless. Starbucks pulled his shots as they always do, everywhere in the world… sufficiently.
The flight took off on time, a nap was had. He landed and realized his audiobook was a waste of dreams and economical theory. Comical.
He checked his email, sent some Slack messages reminding folks he’d be MIA most of the day - and to deal with it, at they’re empowered.
The car was unlocked and his with a swipe of his thumb. There’s something entirely elating about stepping into a platform you helped design and build. Down ego, down.
The drive to the city would hamper even the weakest of electric cars, let alone the impressive nerdy power of the i3. The beauty of the drive, though, was always infuriating… Why does it have to be so beautiful?
The anticipation started to set in… The time between then and now has felt like eternity. The messages, the pause, the thrill of it all is beyond comprehension, beyond scribbled words.
The hotel appeared, and the history oozes out it… Or that may be the mold. Sometimes one follows the other. The room is quaint and perfect.
He clears his throat, takes a morning moment in the bathroom and uses the bidet, and reflects in the indecency of most Americans and their asshole care. Unfortunate. Toothbrushing time leads to nose hair trimming and the kind human act of sending a text to his mother.
Fast forward through more work, bidet marketing contemplating, and a few swipes through his blog, we find him walking along some water. A café in the foreground. First contact, first sighting, the electricity ignites in him as it had been imagined.
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