Restaurant Reviews

Waiting was always a little gut-wrenching. Her mind slid sideways in these moments; one thought slipping over the last, like changing clothing before a date, leaving the last dress in a pile at her feet. Images of their last times together flitted across her field of vision like slides, the clarity making her a little disoriented.

She looked at her feet and smiled a little. She knew he liked her feet, small and neat with high arches. Today her nails were red, not deep red but bright, more of a color to notice and draw appreciation to rather than one to create an obsession. The arch of her feet, underlined by the sole of her heels, open strappy slippers that they both liked so much; six inches and counting.

She had a vision of the last time they were together, then an image of her son at the skate park, doing laundry the night before, doing dishes, and having a picnic with him that ended with sex up against a park wall. She wondered if she should have worn something a little less bold. Her classic strappy cocktail dress, which, from the front, hugged her curves with just a little slippage, was, in the back, all but non-existent, swooping so low you could almost see where her spine dove between her ass...

She sipped her water, thought about the first time they had kissed, trembled a little, and shook herself. If she weren't careful, she would make herself so flustered she'd have a hard time talking again.

That bothered her more than him, the stuttered replies and physical nervousness. When it happened, he smiled and got a look in his eye that made her shiver more. It was somewhat predatory, with a twist of humor and a promise of sudden... surprises.

She knew he liked the effect he had on her when they first met for a 'date', and he knew how to draw it out delicately, raising the level of nervous anticipation and excitement until they were both a little shaky and breathless.

She liked the effect she had on him, which she could see in the coruscating tension in his body, the unbroken stare, and the tongue on his lips. She liked how he would shiver towards her if her hand brushed him. She liked the power she held over him...

She smiled again, had another little spine tremble, and looked around the hotel lounge where they were to meet. 'Suits' in leisure attire. Fresh off the beaches, some of them burned, fat or obese, some quite handsome, wives and girlfriends, even a few kids roaming around the place. She had seen a couple of the men check her out as she strolled in, a few of the women too... judging. Everyone, all the time... It's what people did.

She always took her time getting ready for him. Today, she'd done her makeup carefully, highlighting her high cheekbones and adding only the littlest bit of color. Her blonde hair wound up loosely atop her head with a hairpin through it. (She planned on pulling it out when she first sat atop him.) Her honey-brown eyes were clear, and she applied only the faintest coloring.

She worked hard to keep her body trim and fit, and aligned with the spring of her breasts. Yes, they were an augmentation, but damn! They looked great and matched her ass and all the other curves. She had a body men desired on sight, always had and knew it, liked it, and flaunted it "just a little" from time to time. At 42, she could pass for 35. It made her smile a little, secretly to herself, then cringe, remembering herself at 35...

She knew she was dressed a little more provocatively than a holiday-maker or business dinner date would require. She suspected that some patrons in the lounge were wondering whether she was 'looking for a date' or not. The answer 'not' shot across her mind. But she loved it when he told her she looked it or called her one....


He was making her wait. Sometimes, he did that just to make it harder to control their initial moments of greeting. In fairness, she knew it was as difficult for him. How he craved her lips and touch, how desperate he could seem in his need for her. It gave her a surge of power that rose up her spine and then traveled back down, settling in the very base of the coccyx - and a little forward in her sex.

The thoughts were beginning to make her squirm in her seat again.

Wondering when he'd show, how far he'd push her when they finally found a quiet place alone, whether he'd booked a room or they were heading for a quiet corner... she realized her heart rate had elevated a little and that she was beginning to feel a little warm.

She stared out the great windows, watching the low sun send sparkles in mirror flashes off the water. It was heading down toward the mountains. "What the hell was the name of that point?"

The surfers were out on small swells. There had been nothing significant out of the south for a couple of weeks. She distracted herself by watching the surfers. There were a lot of beginners and first-timers out there.

A movement nearby drew her attention, and she looked up into the eyes of a man she didn't know. He smiled and, in a pleasant voice, asked if he could buy her a drink.

"What the hell?" she thought. "I'll toy with him for a while," then toy with her 'date' before heading off for... whatever. She accepted ordering a glass of Malbec on a whim. She looked him over as he went to the bar.

Nice form, dressed casually in well-draped slacks and shirt -- a little too spendy to be casual and a little too perfectly tropical to be local. He was probably a businessman at a conference. Wife tucked away neat on the mainland...

He came back, moving smoothly through the lounge, and sat in the lounge chair beside her. He had light brown hair, blue eyes, a square jaw, and a fit, trim body--a look she liked. This could be fun!

He introduced himself as "Jeff" comfortably and asked where she was staying.

"I live here," she said.

"At the hotel?" he asked with a bit of mischief in his eye.

She decided to play with him more seriously- "Penthouse," she said.

His pause was almost imperceptible, and she credited him for covering so fast.

"You haven't told me your name-?"

She took a sip from her glass to gain a moment while she decided whether to tell him her real name. The wine was deep, rich, and smooth, with the punch the new wines were giving these days, but its finish was soft and firm--it reminded her of kissing him, and she almost forgot to answer.

"Roxanna," she lied, but you can call me "Anna"

He did have a nice smile, but it seemed a bit like he was... evaluating her "potential."

She asked, "Here for a conference- or a holiday?".

"Conference"

"What's it about?"

"Oh- a bit boring, actually. Genetically engineered food and its future direction over the next decade. We are looking for more land to put under crops."

"Ah." She felt herself recoiling a little.

"Yeah- I consult for them. Help them find their way into locales with as little resistance as possible."

He turned the conversation away.

"Can you recommend anything off the menu? Care to share a meal or appetizer?"

"Ha! I hardly ever eat here, to tell you the truth" (ok, bit of a lie. She'd never even walked through the doors here! They liked to change the venues they played in -- kept the excitement up and prevented people from recognizing them)

"You know- never eat at home- it gets too easy."

"And you're not into easy?"- he asked.

Not bad, she thought- "Depends on the cost, I suppose".

His eyebrows twitched a little, and he smiled and leaned toward her.

She could see he had well-developed muscles, and she caught a whiff of cologne--something nice but not tropical, which mildly surprised her.

"Where do you like to eat he asked.

"Wherever I am comfortable."

"Ah- that could cover a lot of ground. -- Roller-coaster?"

"No -- too hard not to spill, and I like to be careful of what I wear."

He laughed.

She thought about the last time she'd worn a spill, smiling at her secret.

Ok- How about the car?

"Depends on who I am with." She shot back.

"Fine dining?"

"On what?"

He paused, easing back in his seat, a self-satisfied look slipping across his face.

"What if I said, 'I'd like to have you for dinner?'"

"Ok," she thought. This might be getting a little too... much. Where the hell is that man?"

From behind her:

"Actually, she likes to eat in bed."

"Or on a blanket under the moon."

His voice had made her start, and she almost purred as she felt his hand stroke the back of her neck. 


"Good GOD!" She thought, "How can he know me so well?"

It was a question she asked herself, not infrequently.

She felt him step around her. She saw him extend a hand toward her erstwhile suitor:

"Name's Michael. Howzit?"

"Ah, I was just asking for advice about... dining from your.... Friend Anna"

He looked at her -- son-of-a-bitch, that man had the devil's own mischief in his eyes!

He looked at her. "Ummm, Anna?"

"What did you recommend?..."

There was something in his tone and body language that made her uneasy... she wasn't sure what he was up to...

"Hadn't made one yet."

"Well, why not here? That's a nice view, you must admit."

Jeff began to get up.

"Well, I appreciate the conversation. Perhaps I will order something in the restaurant.'

Before she could say anything, he jumped in and said,

"No-no-no! Sit, enjoy your drink with us, and we'll order some appetizers. I'll go get something for myself."

He strolled over to the bar slowly. His shoulder-length brown hair was well-kept today, and he wore nice brown slacks and a midnight blue shirt. Something in his carriage, his erect posture, made her sit up a little more.

She watched him chatting with the barmaid, making an order, looking around the bar, turning slowly, and locking eyes with her. Smile a devil of a smile--part predator, part complete suggestive sex.

"Oh!" was about all she could think.

She realized Jeff had asked her a question.

"Pardon me. Would you please repeat that?"

"I should have known you were waiting for someone."

"Well- you didn't ask- did you?!"

She'd let it come out a little short and watched his reaction. He didn't give much of one.

He walked back -- lithe movements. He must have just worked out, as his muscles were slightly more pronounced than otherwise. He was looking at her as if she were naked- she loved that look- it made her feel naked- made her want to be naked- on her knees with... she felt herself warming up again and suppressed the thoughts...

"Damn!" slipped out under her breath.

"Excuse me" -- this from Jeff.

"Ah, pardon me. I need to excuse myself for a moment."

She got up and headed for the ladies' room to cool off. As she turned, she noticed both of them watching her -- not speaking to one another. She knew what Jeff was thinking, but she was afraid of what that man of hers might be thinking. Afraid and excited by her fear at the same time...

When she came back, they were talking. Neither was particularly engaged in the other. She imagined Jeff would find Michael too arrogant. It was common--he said it was confidence that made people think him arrogant. She didn't care but thought he was occasionally right.

She noticed them looking at her again, and there was something in her that tightened up. She felt the objectification. Could see it in both of their eyes. For some reason, she loved it in the ones and hardly even noticed it in the other.

She realized again, "I would do anything for that one."

She had stopped walking and straightened. A smile of her own took hold -- all angel and all devil- he would say- and she stalked over to the table like a dancer playing a leopard. She felt her desire surge like wildfire and let it come. His smile had tightened for a moment, then released and gone somewhere to be replaced by that look she loved so much, the one that promised pleasure, a little pain, soft caresses, slaps, and god knew what else, and she positively bathed in it.

She swayed into her seat, turned away from him, and focused on Jeff-

"So-dinner?" she asked.

"What's on the menu?"

He laughed, a sudden short burst -- more a purr than a laugh.

She looked them over by turns, not quite sure what she was doing, and said:

"Shall we go to the dining room?"

"Certainly." That was all he said.

She threw back the rest of her wine in a gulp (he raised his eyes; Jeff hadn't noticed) and swayed up provocatively from her seat. She had an idea where it all might go, but wasn't sure. They'd played versions of this game before, but there was something a little more serious about this one. She glanced over her shoulder -- he was getting up slowly, and a fierce look was in his eyes- desire flooding out of them, striking her like a hand on the throat. She swished her ass provocatively and strolled toward the dining room, the two of them in train.

He came up behind her, slipped his hand to the hem of her skirt (was it really that short?) and up to the bottom of the cut-out back, then rested his hand on the naked skin, fingers slipping into her crack. She felt him lean in, and his whisper brushed her neck with a chill-

"Slut-delightful slut" was all he said.

She smiled and trembled inside.

Dinner was a distracted affair for her. They were sitting at a small table; he'd requested a two-top by the window, up on the raised area, instead of in public view. She faced the sunset. His hand strayed to her thigh again and again. Jeff had taken to rubbing his foot up her calf. She wasn't sure how far she wanted this to go. In the past, they had always broken off before it got this far. She guessed people would be watching; indeed, their server, a pretty thing with buttery brown skin and long dark hair, had noticed, which meant all the staff knew. She wondered if the Maitre D would show and ask them to leave- but there were no families in here, and they weren't "pawing her."

The conversation batted back and forth between sightseeing and agri-business. It was interesting and informative. They were all intelligent, and the conversation bounced around the table naturally. Jeff's foot kept sliding up and down her leg, and she smiled, as he did it, encouraging him

She couldn't believe he'd taken it this far with someone they didn't know. She'd have thought he'd offer some excuse, allowing him to leave for a moment and giving her a chance to flirt a little longer before excusing herself again. But tonight was different. Both men were edgy, in a competition, and she liked watching it and fueling it. She would drop in a line or two when conversation cooled off long enough, then keep it heating up. She leaned toward Jeff and touched his wrist, adjusted her breast while looking at him, and licked her lips. There was something totally satisfying in watching them compete. They were fighting over her. The stroking of her thigh had resolved into deep pressure almost on her clit- she realized suddenly and looked from one to the other of the men.

Looking directly at her, Michael said-

"Jeff- you have a room here?"

She started and looked at her lover, and heard Jeff's somewhat confused reply-

"Yes?"

"Well- why don't you pay the bill, and we'll all go up there and order dessert and champagne from room service?"

"All right."

She gasped, turned it into a cough, and caught herself- "That's right," -- she thought, remembering they'd done this once before- led some poor slob on, then ditched him and gone and fucked like teenagers on the hood of a couple of different cars in the parking lot. The first couple had alarms that went off, chasing them away. It had been hot out that night, and they'd finally settled on a stairwell where they'd fucked each other into sweaty ecstasy.

The check came and went.

Everyone got up and made for the elevators.

Right about here, he'd signal her to go back and get her lip gloss. Then he'd come to find her, and they'd be gone.

They got to the elevator. Waited. It was taking him forever to give the go-ahead!


The bell rang, doors opened, his hand on the small of her back, suggestive as it slid down onto her rump, firmly pushing her into the elevator and into the corner.

Jeff pressed the button, and absently, she noticed the floor-11, oh dear, her number!

She was cornered- face in, his hand on her ass, under her dress, the other hand came around to her throat, lips found her neck, then teeth.

"You belong to me."

"Yes" was all she could answer.

"You'll do what I say." Not a question or request

She couldn't answer, and he repeated the query.

She whispered almost to herself -- "Yes- I am yours." But he heard, she knew he'd heard, and shivered in fear and anticipation...

He turned her around, pushed her to her knees, and pressed his cock into her face through his pants. Her head turned to the side, and she saw Jeff, eyes slightly glazed and looking like he was about to move.

Her arm was lifted for her, extending toward Jeff, who had somehow moved closer. She found his cock through the linen, half-hard. She felt it pulsing in her hand -- his against her face! She was a little dizzy. The elevator stopped. She heard a woman gasp, but couldn't see anyone, so the elevator started again and stopped.

Michael helped her up, pulled her in close, kissed her so deeply she thought she'd explode or melt or do anything-do everything!

Jeff was standing still, slack-jawed and stupid-

"Lead on." That was Michael, his tone of desire, of barely controlled power, cracking the air.

She could hardly walk and drew deep, slow breaths -- realized she was wet. Realizing her right breast was almost out of her dress, she went to adjust and felt him grip her hand hard, pulling it back down.

Things were out of her control- she realized- it was this desire they shared, a willingness to surrender to what came up, she remembered the soreness of her breasts from their last lovemaking- ok, she thought:

"FUCKING".

The nail tracks down his back, the welcome soreness of her nipples and body the next day. They were in front of a door, which was open. They went in.

Jeff picked up the phone and dialed.

"No need," that was him again- M

She turned around- he pushed her to her knees. Pressed his cock against her mouth again. This time she just reached out for the cock she knew would be there- found it. She stroked it- it felt good in her hand.

Suddenly, there was nothing more she wanted than to suck. A slight moan escaped her lips; she opened her mouth, and her teeth bit down through the pant material. She found her hand on a suddenly naked crotch. Found a hard cock, groaned again. She felt him turn her toward Jeff.

He reached around and slid fingers into her mouth, down her throat, and then he said:


"Slut. You want that cock don't you?" Not a question

"Deep down your throat," she could only nod.

Really, she wanted his cock, but in a pinch at this moment, with him there, this was fine -- if he wanted to see it -- so be it -- and god help them both.

She started deep right away. It was like her brain shut off. It felt different from his cock- good but different.

She could feel him behind her, holding her head on this stranger's cock. His other hand pinched her nipple so HARD! He was squatting down behind her, and now, he had a low, throaty growl in his throat. What was he saying?

Talking filthily:

"Oh, my perfect little angel -- whore! You are so sweet." "Get it all in there". I am going to fuck you like it was all I was made for."

He took his hand off her breast, wrapped it around her waist, and pulled her to her feet. He hiked her skirt up and spanked her so hard she choked on the cock in her mouth and throat. She pulled her mouth off that cock and spun around, still on her knees, and stood up:

"You-Bitch!" She spat out and slapped him.

She bent over and grabbed his waist, pulling his cock into her mouth, pulling it into her throat like she was starved, and holding it there in the back of her throat for what seemed like hours while he slapped her ass lightly and so fast it felt like one continual sensation.

She felt Jeff's cock pushing between her ass cheeks, sliding up and down her dress up over her hips now, and ground her ass against it.

She could feel her pussy juices begin to drip down her legs, but her mind was almost blank, her whole body starting to thrum. She felt a hand pulling her hand and followed it to Jeff's cock. It was still a little slippery with her spit.

As M pulled her off his cock and pushed her onto Jeff's, she gave in fully, no longer thinking, just feeling. She tried to drop to her knees again, but was restrained. Felt him pull her straps down off her shoulders and shrugged her way out, breasts free, felt a tongue at her ass-hole, and gasped out around her mouthful of cock.

The tongue was circling, darting, sending shivers up her spine. She was a moaning, cock-drunk slut and knew it, felt good about it. She froze as M pushed his tongue deep into her ass, then she began to thrust her ass back onto it.

Suddenly it was gone, and she paused, pulling Jeff's cock out of her mouth and took a deep breath just in time to feel Michael position himself behind her and slam his cock into her cunt.

As she opened her mouth to gasp, it was filled by Jeff again, and she began to melt to the floor.

Somewhere in the fog that was her mind, she realized that if M weren't holding her up, she would collapse. But she was stretched out, pushed up onto her toes, her heels off the floor, M's hand alternately pulling her pussy back onto his perfect cock, and Jeff's hands on her head throat-fucking her. She noticed they were both out of their pants as a side thought.

She was so full of sensations, of surrender, of desire, of COCK! She didn't even realize the first orgasm was on her till it passed.

Then she was empty, senses spinning as she was lifted and thrown roughly across the table. Her hands were pulled behind her back and suddenly cuffed. She became nervous. M (it had to be him! Please!) Grabbed a handful of hair, yanked her to her feet, and put a blindfold over her. (Where the hell does he find this stuff?) Then pushed her to her knees and commanded her:

"Kneel up! Stick out your chest."

And soothingly- "good girl," "good slut" you are being so good.

There was a sudden stinging, burning on her left breast, right across her nipple, and she realized he had a belt in his hand. She smiled and spat in what she thought was his direction, spat again, and snarled a little accidentally.

She could almost feel him tensing as he began to lightly, relentlessly strike her breasts and nipples.

She almost shouted, "You are such a slut-bitch!" just as the stinging hit her right breast. She could feel him smiling.

Then it went on from side to side faster and faster. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware of how good his aim and touch were, but all she could get her mind around was the feeling of being held down by Jeff while her lover whipped her breasts into a state so sensitive she was whimpering.

The sudden cessation caused her to ache more than the whipping had.

She moaned again softly.

She looked around behind her blindfold, trying to guess where he had gone. She felt his lips gentle on her nipples, cool breath blowing on them, then the clamps, and she gasped and writhed as first one, then the other, pinched down, Jeff still holding her shoulders firmly.

His lips brushed hers once, then twice again, before he kissed her tenderly and pulled away. She spat in his face twice. He purred in her ear and said:

"I love you so slut. You are so perfect -- so good -- exactly what I love." And she felt herself glowing with pain and pleasure and desire and feelings she couldn't identify.

Then she was gently raised, and his lips found hers again. She swooned into him, drinking the kiss deeply, and felt Jeff behind her fitting his cock into her.

"All right," she said softly.

"So this is what you want."

M replied-

"What about you? You cannot tell me you don't love this. And yes -- this is what I want".

It was true, but she wondered distantly what they were unleashing here. And as Jeff's hard cock slipped into her hot, wet hole, she realized she just didn't care. And she bent forward, opening her mouth for the cock she loved, knowing she'd find it, and did.

After some time, M pushed her back onto Jeff, and they both walked slowly backward until he fell onto the bed, and she sat on him. Michael took the blindfold off and unbound her hands, all the while Jeff urging his cock deeper.

As soon as her hands were free, she slapped M in the face, hard. He leaned in, smiling, eyes full of love, lust, and things she couldn't name, and kissed her deeply again. He pulled away and was about to say something when her hand slapped him again. He smiled and held his face forward. She slapped him two more times, all the while grinding down on Jeff's cock- realizing that was all that guy was to her, a cock for her pleasure.

She watched the red imprint of her hand form on his face.

She took that face she loved so well in her right hand, pulled him close, spit in his face again, and licked it off -- they kissed slowly, sensuously.

He was so still, then said to Jeff:

"Hold the whores hands, dammit."

She shivered, knowing what was coming, and felt it before it arrived. She wanted it, she wanted it, oh god, how she'd wanted it, then another and another and the heat and sting on her face and the eager urging of cock in her hole, and all of a sudden he was on his knees in front of her his tongue so gently lapping at her clit and her hands gently finding the back of his head pulling handfuls of hair and drawing his face hard up against her. While Jeff kept the small firm thrusts that went deep into her pussy she felt her lips spreading the juices flowing down and then:

She felt the second orgasm building like a massive wave in her, and when it hit, it shook her to the very core of her being.

She felt herself pulled up off of that delightful cock turned around, and thrown forward on the bed, and that cock she loved so much, HIS cock that had become almost a part of her. She was having it stuffed in her sweet, wet cunt while her face was pushed into a pillow.

Michael started the long, slow strokes into her sweet pussy that she knew he loved. She was struggling to breathe, his hand pushing hard onto the back of her head. She could barely hear him murmuring deprecations at her as the tempo picked up, hips slamming into her round, beautiful ass.

She felt something shoved into her hand, realized it was her vibrator, and pressed it onto her clit. She felt hands on her back more than one set, felt her ass being spanked -- just hard enough, felt the orgasm building, felt it hit and continue to hit, felt his cock getting harder, and suddenly he was out of her and she could breathe again.

She lay there gulping air, realized the vibrator was still pressed onto her clit, and gently slipped it into her slit.

Looking over, she saw Jeff lying on the bed, stroking his cock. She lay onto his thighs, noticing their firm muscles somewhat absently, and started to suck him while she surrendered to the renewed fucking she was receiving. Smiling, she pulled the cock out of her mouth and just settled into kissing it and stroking it with her nimble hands.

She realized she had given up on any thought or direction, and as she realized that, the word slut settled onto her like a glove from M's mouth and her own mind. Then Cum Slut and whore and cock loving slut hole and every name and combination she knew people would find degrading just making her more and more comfortable and she repeated over and over to herself- scandalous, scandalous slut!

She loved it and felt powerful and empowered. She lifted herself up and started pushing herself back onto his tool HARD and slamming her ass against him, feeling his balls slap against her. Then there was a stop.

And a slight reposition as he turned her around and jammed his cock into her mouth again. She felt him draw it out, a long line of deep throat spit on it. He cupped it around his cock spun her again, re-positioned himself, and in one smooth thrust, was all the way in her ass.

She cried out in surprise, and the little bit of pain was followed by pleasure. He pulled all the way out and pushed her forward, and she saw Jeff stroking his cock again. He pushed her toward Jeff.

She crawled on top of Jeff like an animal, looked at him, and said in a voice that growled from the depths of her being:

"Don't move bitch".

And she settled slowly down onto his cock. She reached her own hand down her throat, getting a wad of saliva on it, smeared it onto her ass, placed her hands there, and spread herself open just as M entered her again.

There was an interminable time.

She heard new sounds coming out of her mouth now. And felt him shove something into her hand.

She recognized the vibrator again and shoved it onto her clit. She felt like her head was exploding. His hands wrapped around her throat, partially cutting off her breath. She began coming again and couldn't stop.

She heard herself growling and groaning and crying out, her whole body shaking. She felt herself falling apart and rebuilding in seconds, the entire world collapsing and re-forming in heartbeats. There was no air for her, and she thrashed herself onto two cocks. His voice in her ear, "Good girl- good whore- keep cumming- for me- slut - cum-slut MY LITTLE CUM LOVING WHORE.

His hands released her as she shivered and shook.

Gradually, she was aware of Jeff's cock beginning to twitch and pulled herself off him, pushing M away. She didn't want Jeff's cum in her. Only his.

She slid down just as he started spurting on her tits. She rubbed them up and down his shaft. M found his way into her ass again and held still. Without moving, he still seemed to grow in her. He pulled out and spun her around, and she felt his cum hit her face, warmly splattering across her cheek and throat. Then he was there. Kissing her mouth, sweeping the cum off of her face with his tongue, dribbling it into her mouth.

She was hungry for it. Desperate, he tasted her as he kissed her deeply again. They spent a few minutes swapping it back and forth before she greedily swallowed it and sat half up. She looked at herself in the mirror. 

Her hair was sweat-streaked, her breasts hung out of her dress, and stains of spit or cum splattered on it and smeared across her chest. Her breasts were pink from slapping, and sometime during the whole scenario, the clamps had been removed. She vaguely remembered the pain of it

Michael sighed into her, and they both rolled over to look at Jeff- he hadn't said a word and looked like he'd been ravaged. She giggled, thinking in a way that he had.

She got up with Michael and headed for the bathroom to try to wash up a bit.

Michael came in a moment later and walked up gently behind her.

Their eyes met in the mirror.

"My Love. My wicked angel."

All he said. And she knew it was true.

And she sighed in satisfaction.

And turned. And kissed like that was the only thing in the world...

"Maybe it is -- maybe it is"

... and they walked out of that room and down the hall. They took the elevator down, walked through the lobby, looking like God alone knows what sweat was seeping through their clothes, lights in their eyes, and out into the night, arms around each other, bodies vibrating like stars.

She stopped to kiss him lingeringly and, with a wicked smile, whispered: "You know I will have to make you pay for this."

He looked at her so tenderly that it was almost heartbreaking. "I am looking forward to that, my Mistress."