Waiting…

waiting

The Lovers’ Hotel.

The bedside telephone rings three times.

It is the signal. He is here.

I am almost ready. I take out a small vanity mirror and check my lipstick. I need a little more. They like ruby red lips. They like to imagine them on their face, their chest, their hard cock.

Oh, yes, especially their hard cock.

They fantasize about the lipstick marks.

There is a tap at the door. I wait.

I wonder what he looks like. Young, old. Brown, blond. Handsome. I hope so. But it does not matter.

I am ready.

“Come in,” I say.

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