Chapter 1 – How It BeganChances
“Tessa!” she screamed as soon as she heard the phone on the other end pick up.
“Hey, girl! What’s up?”
“Oh my god, you would not believe what just happened!”
“So tell me!”
“I’m gonna go and chill with 50 Cent and Eminem tonight!”
“No shit?” the other girl asked with a squeal of delight. “How’d you manage that?”
“You know how that radio station’s been talkin’ about giving out tickets to 50’s release party?”
“Uh huh…”
“I got two!”
“Two, huh?”
“Oh, girl, you know I’m askin’ you to go with me.”
“Damn straight! Tonight, you say? Shit!”
“I know, I know! We gotta hit the mall ASAP. Pick you up in ten?”
“K. When does this party thing start?”
“50 and Em are probably gonna arrive around seven-ish or eight-ish. But we gotta hit it around six.”
“Where’s this held at?”
“It’s up in Frisco. I got the address somewhere, I think. I’ll drive us, yeah?”
“Yeah, sounds good. See you in a few.”
//
“There are gonna be some fine ladies at the club tonight,” Curtis chuckled and nudged Marshall as they rode in the rented Escalade, with Curtis behind the wheel.
“It’s promotional, yo. I’m not goin’ for a piece of ass.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to get some, Marsh.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to not get some!” he volleyed back.
“That’s just your dick talkin’ to you. Listen to it, it’s jealous.”
Marshall groaned and leaned against the window.
“The fuck?” Marshall yelled as the vehicle started to throb as Curtis turned up the volume on the stereo. “I don’t want to hear this shit!”
“It’s your fuckin’ song!”
“I know. Switch it!”
“Fine,” Curtis replied and scanned the stations, finally settling on a Tupac song.
“Much better,” Marshall muttered.
“You’re so uptight sometimes, you know that? Shit, you need to get loose.”
“And get some disease while I’m at it? No thanks, you’re welcome to pick up two to make up for me.”
“Kim really made you that disgusted with sex?”
“Shut up,” he mumbled. “It doesn’t have anything to do with that bitch. I got a kid. I got lawsuits coming out of the ass. I don’t need any trouble, especially not over some underage pussy.”
“Well, learn from R. Kelly’s mistakes—don’t video tape it!”
Marshall managed to laugh, but there were still lines of tension on his face.
//
“Tessa, I can’t believe we’re really here!” Stella yelled as they strutted into the hot, electric club.
“Stells, it’s just a club, though,” her friend reminded her. “I mean, it’d be nice to meet 50 Cent and Eminem…”
“I would just die!”
“Then we better put your plan into action, huh?” she laughed.
“Yep! Remember, we gotta work the dance floor so all eyes are on us.”
“I hear ya, don’t worry. You’ll meet ‘em.”
“I hope so!” Stella giggled and began swaying her hips to the beat thrumming through the enclosed area.
//
The moment the rap duo entered the scene, everyone slowed their movements down, conversations faded into low murmurs, while the music kept playing in the background. As the rappers walked confidently over the VIP booth towards the back, the club-goers began to up their speed and things rapidly heated back up.
“Psst!” Stella whispered harshly as she ground her hips against her friends.
“Yeah?”
“They’re here!”
“I know, girl. So you better start dancin’ with someone who might matter. I’m gonna get a drink, you want anything?”
“Nah, not yet. Don’t stay away from the dance floor too long!” Stella called out as her friend disappeared towards the bar.
//
“Courvoisier, please,” she told the bartender.
“Good taste,” a voice rumbled behind her.
“Thanks,” she replied without looking at the source of the voice. “I’m glad I’m not funding this party,” she murmured, sensing he wanted more than idle chit chat. “Cou is a little expensive.”
“No shit,” he laughed. “It’s a good thing I can afford it.”
“You?” she whipped around and opened her mouth in surprise. “50 Cent!”
“The one and only, beautiful. Call me Curtis. You’re likely to call me fitty by the time you get that drink in your system, and just watch it turn to titty or somethin’…” he rambled and smiled impishly.
“I’m Contessa,” she replied and took a sip of her drink. The liquid was like fire against her throat. She let out a nearly inaudible moan. “Courvoisier is my favorite,” she supplied.
“Yeah? It’s all good to me. Don’t drink much anymore.”
“Neither do I. Except when someone else is footing the bill,” she teased with a wink.
“Come back with me?” he asked as he received his drink.
“Sure,” she nodded. “Can I bring my friend?”
“The more the merrier,” he replied and slid his hand on her hip, letting her guide him through the crowd in search of her friend.
After a few minutes, and being unable to spot her, Contessa shrugged. “Can’t find her.”
They walked over towards the booth where several other famous faces sat. It was a struggle for her to keep her jaw from falling to the floor.
Awkwardly, she sat next to Curtis on the longer sofa.
“Who’s your friend?” Marshall asked wryly.
“Contessa, meet Marshall. Or Eminem.”
“Hi,” she managed to squeak.
“You be nice to my boy,” Marshall warned.
“Which one?” she teased as she cast a downwards glance towards Marshall’s thighs.
If he’d been ten years younger, he’d have blushed. “This fool here,” he restated.
//
The strong liquor was already overwhelming Contessa’s system, as the strength burned through her veins and drugged her senses. She arrived back at the booth with her second glass of cognac and settled on Curtis’ lap with little hesitation when he pulled her towards it.
“So, Curtis, is it true you’ve been shot…in the face?”
“Yep.”
“You look pretty good, with all things considered.”
“Oh, thanks a lot!” he laughed.
“Please, you know you’re gorgeous.”
“Yeah?” he lifted his eyebrow.
“Uh huh,” she giggled.
Marshall rolled his eyes at the whole exchange. “Get a room,” he grumbled.
“What was that?” she asked and pressed a finger to his chest.
“Nothin’, girly.”
“Ignore him, he’s in a mood.”
“Drama?”
“Who knows?”
“Wanna dance?” she asked.
“What do I get in return?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she gave him an innocent look. “I’ll think of something to make it worth your while.”
He smiled, entirely enjoying the direction things were going.
As they started to get up, she cast a quick look at Marshall. “You wanna join us, blondie?”
“No thanks.”
“Can’t dance?” she asked.
“I can. I don’t want to.”
“Oh, right!” she rolled her eyes and grabbed Curtis’ hand.
//
Marshall waited five minutes before getting up. He wasn’t going to back down from the challenge that Curtis’ new girl issued. He would be damned if he’d let her think he couldn’t dance.
//
She rolled her hips against his as the heavy beat drummed through their bodies. Contessa gasped as Curtis nudged his thigh between her legs. They gyrated against each other; their bodies meshing and tangling sensually as the music played and lulled them further into the loud bass pumping through their senses. His hand splayed itself on her lower back, pressing her closer towards him.
With wide eyes, Contessa’s jaw loosened slightly as she felt another hard, male body align with her backside.
Curtis acknowledged the other man with a short nod and turned her around.
“Marshall!” she whispered in surprise.
“Still think I can’t dance?” he teased as he placed his hands on her hips and brought her pelvis to melt with his.
Turned around, she could feel Curtis’ hardness against her bottom, and unconsciously leaned back.
“Keep doin’ things like that, and we won’t be dancin’ anymore,” Curtis growled as his lips found her ear.
She laughed and the sound tinkled in the men’s ears.
“You two are makin’ me all hot and sweaty,” she replied demurely. “I stand corrected, Marshall can dance.”
//
“Curtis, will you get me somethin’ to cool me down?” Contessa asked after several minutes had passed since Marshall joined them.
“Yeah,” he said gruffly, reluctantly moving away from her lithe body.
Marshall turned to leave, but she caught his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I think I’ve danced enough.”
“Have you?” she teased and flattened her palms against his chest. “I thought we were just getting started.”
She moved her hips enticingly against his, and the moan he uttered unwillingly gave her the courage to keep up her erotic movements.
“Who are you more interested in, huh? You can’t have us both.”
“I can’t? Oh, I think I can,” she smiled wickedly.
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 2 – Hot & Tipsy
“You know what my number one fantasy is?” she whispered hotly into Marshall’s ear as she slid her hand down his chest.
“I’m afraid I’m going to find out.”
She laughed. “Afraid? Eminem afraid?”
“Marshall,” he corrected her.
“What could be more fun than having the two hottest rappers between my thighs?”
He stared at her, eyes wide with shock and glinting with intrigue.
//
“Thank you,” she replied as Curtis handled her a non-alcoholic drink.
“I hope you weren’t trying to sweet talk my lady away from me,” he said pointedly.
“Nah—”
“I was just asking Marshall a question. I’m still waiting for an answer.”
“Don’t keep the woman waiting,” Curtis urged, noticing how uncomfortable his boss was.
“Why don’t you ask Curtis here first?” Marshall said candidly, challenging her.
With grace, she nodded, and lifted herself up to whisper into Curtis’ ear.
Marshall knew she had repeated herself word-for-word when Curtis’ eyes rounded and he laughed.
“Not much else,” he answered.
Marshall gaped.
“You up to it?” she drawled.
Marshall bit back a groan. He was caught between throwing this wild minx over his shoulder and running. “Yeah, sugar, you know I am,” he weakened and brought her in full contact of his erection.
//
The door closed, muffling the music and bass filtering downstairs. Marshall pushed her eager body against the wall, lifted her up, and forced her to rely on him for support. Curtis watched in amusement as he locked the door; he abated his temper by reminding himself that it wasn’t often that Marshall lost control, or chose to, for that matter. He’d allow him to be greedy—for now.
Marshall tugged at the halter top’s ties gently, watching the laces loosen easily. Her breasts spilled into his hands, full and soft.
She bit her lip to keep from moaning while his mouth latched onto one of her hardening buds.
“Marsh, don’t hog her,” Curtis cleared his throat.
Looking sheepish, Marshall forced himself to bring her back to the floor and stepped away.
She laughed at his slight embarrassment and sauntered over to Curtis who had seated himself on the couch. Without hesitance, he pulled her into his lap. His large, rough hands tested the weight of her breasts while his fingers ran across her tightened nipples.
Contessa gave him a wicked grin before she slid off his lap and kneeled before him. He merely raised an eyebrow in response but his eyes darkened to smoldering coals as her small hand wrangled its way into his pants. Curtis knew what was coming but still groaned loudly as her tongue darted out to taste him. Seeing that Marshall was at a loss, Curtis motioned him over with his eyes.
Pushing away his reservations, Marshall slid his hands across the expanse of her bottom and stripped her of her skirt. Teasingly, he skimmed his fingers along the edges of her panties; he smiled when he felt her push herself against his hand. Sensing her need, he hastily tore the flimsy piece of material from her and let it soar across the room. Quickly, he thrust two digits within her wetness; she was pooling with hot, raw need.
Curtis growled as her moan vibrated against his cock; he could feel the sound awakening his nerves as she clasped her lips more tightly around him. Her petite hand squeezed and tickled the length of him while her skillful tongue was working its magic touch; he was pulsating with anticipation, poised and ready, and teetered on the edge of ecstasy for mere seconds before her mouth intensified the already unholy pressure and he exploded. She greedily milked him as he came in sizzling spurts down her throat; her tongue darted out to finish what had been left behind.
Contessa was moaning, her hips wildly bucking against Marshall’s intrusive fingers; she mewled as his callused thumb brushed against her distended clit, sending her flying into a burst of color and sensation.
“Seems like Marshall needs a lil’ more action,” she giggled and moved to the far end of the couch. “Come here, Marsh,” she grinned.
He obeyed, but cast a wary glance at Curtis. All he received was a blank, innocent look and a shoulder shrug.
She leaned over the arm of the sofa, her breasts swaying with her movements. Simultaneously, Marshall and Curtis understood what she wanted—or what she was tempting them to do.
They surprised her as Curtis pressed himself between her thighs; his cock slipping between them, sliding across her wet inner folds. She made quick work out of undressing Marshall from the waist down, and she stared at his jutting erection, watching it twitch slightly under the intensity of her gaze. Readily, she ran her hand up his length, lathering him with his own precum; with little hesitance, she brought him into the searing caverns of her mouth.
A collective groan emanated as Marshall found himself engulfed and tangled with her tongue and the bluntness of her teeth while Curtis pushed himself into her slickness, sinking into her fully—completely. He rested there for a second, and then another, after two, he began to move; thrusting in and out, starting off slow, taking deliberate, timed strokes, and then losing himself in the heat of her body, the keen response she willingly gave. Her inner muscles locked around him, squeezed and grasped him within their power; he pushed in harder, faster—building and building, watching a thin sheen of sweat develop on her thighs and hips as they climbed higher and found themselves closer to that heavenly peak of oblivion.
Marshall’s thoughts were scattered and racing as his eyes digested the sight before him; every stroke took her away from him, and every thrust brought her closer to him. He could feel the tension begin and end as he pushed into her throat; quickly adjusting, she relaxed and drew him further and further, until she had enveloped all of him. It was wildly erotic watching her tense and relax, moan and focus on him and then on herself; just that breathtaking image was enough to bring him to a pleasureful culmination and he spilled himself down her throat. She gave him a wicked smile as she licked her lips clean of his juices.
She groaned loudly as Curtis withdrew himself nearly completely out of her depths; helplessly, she attempted to ease his girth back within her heat, but failed as her strong hands stilled her movements.
“Please,” she begged in a hoarse voice.
With a great amount of patience and control, he slowly pushed himself inside her once more; it seemed like an eternity before he began to move again, but when he did, it was in harsh, punishing thrusts that had his name spilling off her lips and voiced loud and clear as her climaxed whipped around her, cloaked her, and carried her into a passionate abyss.
Shortly thereafter, Curtis found himself unwilling to control his orgasm, and urged her buttocks towards his hips, and slipped fully into her depths, growling her name as he filled her.
//
She hovered over Marshall’s lap; teasing him as she brushed herself against his erection.
“Damn it, woman,” he groaned and took control of situation by grasping her hips in his hands and impaling her with his cock.
“Fuck,” she moaned as he lifted her body up and down, filling her with each down stroke and making her cry out in frustration whenever he slipped from her.
//
“Curtis,” she murmured as he cupped her delectable bottom in his hands. He squeezed tentatively, and found her approval in her body’s willingness to be pleasurably tormented as she pushed her buttocks into his hands.
Hard and ready, he nestled himself between her thighs and gently pushed upward; she exploded under an array of stars and cosmic trails as she felt them both move within her. They filled her completely, utterly; they thrust in and out of her in succession. She was never left empty; her body was stretched and tense as they rocketed her to the core with each stroke.
“Oh god,” she cried as Marshall increased his pace and Curtis followed suit.
They were losing control; completely disregarding her pleasure, only on a race to find their own. Curtis pushed and Marshall took, and then they switched. She whimpered and buried her face into the crook of Marshall’s shoulder as her body rocked and shook as she was hit and swept up by ecstasy once more.
Curtis stilled suddenly—completely taken by surprise—and poured every last ounce of himself into her body racked with slack. He eased himself out of her and staggered, leaning against the armrest.
Marshall flipped her under him and propelled into her with everything he had to give only to take more than she had to give; weak from her parlay with orgasmic bliss, her hips moved subconsciously; incoherent words tumbled from her mouth. His name tainted some of them, but her breathing was shallow and harsh as she wrapped her legs around his hips; he drove himself deeper into her folds and felt her surrender to his passion.
It was a beautiful sound when her name escaped from his in a low grunt as he emptied himself within her.
//
Marshall stared at the business card in his hand—
If you guys are ever in town again, feel free to give me a call.
xx, Contessa
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 3 - The Aftermath
"God damn," Curtis swore as he climbed into the car.
"Yeah," Marshall agreed.
"So, uh..."
"Let's not mention it?" Marshall ventured.
"Shit, that was one of the top experiences ever, and you want to sweep it under the rug? Not like you, Marsh."
"Shut up," he grumbled.
Curtis ignored him and continued. "What's your problem? You loved it, she loved it, and I loved it."
"I shouldn't have-I mean, we didn't know anything about her! What happens if she blabs it to the world?"
"We deny it?" Curtis replied easily. "Look, there are girls who will brag about it, but I don't think Contessa's gonna be one of 'em. You can usually spot those types miles away. So what if she does? Who's gonna believe her? Sorry, man, but threesome with 50 Cent and Eminem is just not gonna fly, even in the dirtiest tabloids. It's just not at all plausible."
"Yeah, I guess..." Marshall turned and looked out the window.
//
"Where'd ya disappear last night, girl?"
"Fuck, my head hurts, don't talk so loud," Contessa growled and tumbled under the comforter. "And turn off the damn light!"
Stella laughed. "Here, some juice and aspirin. And I can't turn off the sun."
"You're making me get up?"
"Uh huh, it's 2 already."
"Seriously?"
With a great deal of effort, Contessa eased herself into a sitting position and opened her eyes slowly. "Jesus, give me more than that. I'm sore as hell."
Stella got up and rummaged around in the bathroom for more aspirin.
"Now, give me the story."
"What story?"
"Like why you're hung over?"
"Too much alcohol."
"Duh, you never overdo it, though. Usually I'm the one drunk as a skunk."
"I was drinkin' with some guys."
Stella raised her eyebrow. "Oh, were you?"
"You're gonna kill me."
"Why's that, girl?"
"For what I did last night...or who rather."
"Just what did you do, hmm?"
"Curtis and Marshall."
"Who are they? Wait, you did them both?"
"Oh, uh, 50 Cent and Eminem. Yes, both," Contessa replied softly, waiting for her friend to explode.
//
"Go 'way," Marshall groaned when he heard loud pounding on his hotel door.
He realized it was futile to go back to sleep, and he stumbled over to let whoever it was in.
"Curtis," he acknowledged. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"
"Nah, I didn't drink that much."
"Fuck you," he bit out.
Curtis laughed and waltzed into the suite. "Why so grumpy?"
"I was in the middle of a nice dream," he mumbled.
"A dream, huh? What about?"
"What? Nothing."
"Oh, c'mon, Marsh, we've shared a whole lot more than some dream scenes," he winked.
Marshall groaned. "I was dreaming about her."
"Her?"
"The girl from last night, Contessa."
"Oh, oh. Yeah, she was hot. But, man, I thought if you got some, that'd make you a little less cranky."
Marshall rolled his eyes.
//
"I can't believe you met them and didn't find me!"
"Well, I tried," Contessa assured her. "I couldn't find you anywhere on the dance floor, so I figured you found some of your own entertainment."
Stella blushed. "Well, I did!"
Contessa smiled. "Tell me about him?"
"He's actually very nice. We talked-like, really talked."
"Sounds good. Is that why you're so up and ready today?"
"Mhm, he's gonna pick me up in a hour."
"So you're not pissed that you didn't get to meet them?"
"A little, but not too much because I did get to meet a great guy. But damn, Contessa, you had 50 and Eminem at the same fuckin' time! That's a once-in-a-lifetime experience!"
"Oh, yeah. I'm so sore today, but it was worth it!"
Contessa had a mental image of Marshall pounding into her, his eyes intently focused on her, the way his hips crashed into hers with his every thrust. The whole experience fluttered in her memory; the feeling of them overwhelming her-both of them pressing in and out of her.
"I wonder if they'll call?"
"I doubt it," Stella said sadly. "I mean, maybe, but I don't think it's likely, you know? Just 'cause they're rarely gonna be here, and they're all busy."
She laughed. "Nah, I doubt it, too, but hey, they know where I'm at should they want me."
//
"Call her," Curtis urged. "Look, she gave you her number-she didn't give it to me."
"It's to both of us."
"Whatever, I don't think she's all that particular about who shows up, to be honest. That girl, as hot as she was, was also a little drunk. Especially after you gave it to her good. Shit, I think you fucked her more than I did; you greedy bastard."
"I'm not gonna call her."
"The stop mopin' around."
"I mean, what will I say? 'Hi, I'd like to fuck you again?' Sorry, but I don't think she's gonna jump at the chance."
"She'd do it."
"Oh, please..."
"Yes, please call her. We don't leave 'til tonight-think about it. She didn't just give us her number so you could throw it away."
//
"Hello?" Contessa grumbled as she picked up the phone. Hearing nothing but silence, she spoke again, "Hello?"
"Uh, hey."
"Who's this?"
"Oh, um, Marshall."
"Hey, Marshall," Contessa replied casually, despite the smile creeping onto her face.
"I'm still in town for a little longer," he let his voice drift off.
"Where you stayin'?" she asked, immediately picking up on his hesitation-there was no way she could pass up this chance.
"Westin St. Francis," he replied.
"Put me on the guest list, k? I'll be there in a half hour or so."
//
She quickly smoothed her hair and knocked on the door.
Seconds later, the door swung open with a sheepish Marshall standing on the other side.
"Hey," Contessa greeted.
"It's uh, good to see you again."
"Can I?"
"Oh, of course," he replied and moved to let her in.
They stood around in an awkward silence for a few minutes before Contessa broke the ice. "Look, let's not kid ourselves-we both know why you called and why I'm here."
He laughed. "Well, what if I wanted to take you to dinner or some shit like that?"
"Does it matter? We both know you aren't gonna do that. So, why don't you bring that cute ass over here so we can stop wasting time?"
//
"How long do we have?" she asked as his palm melted against her breast.
"Three hours," he replied without hesitance.
"Well, we better make those hours count!" she exclaimed and grasped his hand in hers. "I want to do it my way first," she whispered and rolled out of his reach.
"What if I want to do it my way first?" he countered.
"Tough shit," she growled, straddled his thighs, and pushed him onto his back.
//
Her face contorted in slight pain and a gasp escaped her throat as he eased himself into her warmth.
"Fuck," she moaned. "Go a little easy," she cautioned. "I'm a little sore from last night," she added with a grin.
He gave her his best roguish look, and slowly guided her hips upwards so he could withdraw only to drag her back down. Marshall did his best to exercise his patience, but his body was tense and hot with need, and soon his hands were gripping her hips in a vice-like grasp, tugging her down and forcing her up with increasing speed.
Her raw moans urged him deeper and harder while her inner-muscles clamped against him, dragging him head-first into an abyss of absolute bliss. With increased fervor, his lips found one of her nipples and suckled on it, teasing it to a hard peak, and then moving to the other to repeat the
process. He bit gently, and she fell off the precipice and found the same abyss he'd tumbled blindly into. Her nails ground into his shoulders as the wild sensations electrified her body and sent her soaring above the clouds and into heaven.
Contessa threw her back as she rolled her hips against him, efficiently keeping him locked between her thighs.
"Don't move, I wanna feel you inside me," she whispered. "God, Marshall...you feel so good inside me."
He nearly came undone again with her words.
//
Marshall's hands cupped her swaying breasts as he pounded into her eager body. She was tight, coiled, and ready as he pushed himself into her depths to the very hilt. Her hands gripped the headboard as his hands brought her bottom away and then flush against his hips in easy movements.
Needing more, and disregarding the minor discomfort of the abrasion to her soreness, she begged him to take and take.
"Fuck me like you mean it, I'm not gonna break," she growled and immediately felt him up the ante.
Their flesh slapped against together harshly as he took and gave, took and gave, and then took without giving-he mercilessly thrust into her tight, welcoming passage, withdrew quickly only to plunge in even faster and with greater momentum.
She was near her breaking point as her voice screamed his name; he slowed, then stilled for seconds, held himself within for a moment-then without warning, slipped out and then slammed into her, breaking her and pushing her past her limits. Contessa mumbled incoherently as pleasure swept over her; touched her and caressed her in places she hadn't realized existed. Muscles she'd never felt contract, contracted.
The world shattered before her eyes; she was only dimly aware of him emptying his essence into her heated body.
Contessa leaned against the headboard, with her mouth hung open in an effort to breathe steadily.
"Shit," she moaned as Marshall eased himself out of her. "Come back to me, damn it!"
He laughed and pulled her onto his chest.
"You're fuckin' insatiable."
//
She watched his naked backside retreat to the closet for something for her to wear. He muttered a curse when he saw her stretch languidly, her breasts pushed high in the air and a low purr emanated from her throat.
"Don't even get me started," he grunted.
With a wicked grin, she chuckled.
"I don't think I could go another round," she admitted. "I don't even know if I can walk," she teased.
He was smug with male pride. "After all that, my ego says you better be bedridden for the next two weeks."
"Hmph," she grumbled. "Although, I think there's more than two weeks' worth inside me."
Marshall fought the blush creeping into his cheeks. "What can I say, I'm like the Energizer bunny."
"You just go and go, and go some more."
"I'd show you how much longer I could go if I had the time."
She sighed at the idea.
//
"Remember, Marsh, if you're ever in the bay, give me a call," she said as she gave him a quick kiss.
"Hold up," he interjected and jotted a series of numbers onto a piece of paper. "If you're ever in Detroit or LA-check for me... Uh, here's my number."
"Thanks, I will."
He watched her walk down the empty corridor with her hips swaying slightly, but he could tell from her slow, deliberate steps, that he'd worn her down-inside out.
With pure satisfaction, he smiled lazily and shut the door, reminding himself to thank Curtis on the plane home.
....The End. Maybe. Mostly.
Author: zines@aol.com