This story starts at a bar. It starts with one beer too many. Well, one may be an understatement. It starts with many beers too many.
And it ends in a bedroom.
She was as beautiful as they come. And dressed to kill. Stockings. Miniskirt. A top that left nothing to the imagination. Curves for ages. I could go on and on and on. The moment I saw her, I knew I would spend all night at that bar. Looking at her. Lusting for her.
And eventually going back to my hotel room. Alone. And horny. The alcohol, not helping. Her perfect body, also not helping.
And here I was. In a hotel room. Alone. A raging storm of hormones, like I hadn’t experienced since I was a teenager. But I am no teenager anymore. I’m in my mid 30s. A manager. And that night, I was on a business trip. Three hundred miles away from home. What’s a man in my situation to do? Seattle is no Las Vegas. Plus, if I tried to recruit the services of a professional, I would be terrified of being arrested. No, no. Truly, my only recourse was to take my situation in my own hand, so to speak.