It was a high rise hotel, one of those that seems to have been built just to host sex encounters. Rooms with walls of windows showing the city night lights, giving both privacy and exposure, a lure hard to resist. Beds of pristine white bedding, plush and inviting, upholstered headboards screwed to the wall so not banging to have security checking, a sofa with wide and curved arms, a reading chair roomy enough for straddling, a smooth wooden surface desk…all seemed to have been chosen to provoke the most wicked images.
He waited, standing near the bed, contemplating the evening going into night, the lights from surrounding high rises where maybe other lovers would be also waiting to indulge. He expected a sleepless night spent together, wrinkling sheets and knocking pillows down, leaving on the windows the imprint of hands and breasts, the fog of breath. A night of fucking one another as they did, no surprises, at least he didn’t think so…until she showed up.
She entered the room and approached, only stopping less than ten feet from him. She didn’t talk, didn’t smile, only looked at him and started undressing.