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and arrange for a specific type of girl to come to my
door in exactly thirty minutes, then I open a bottle of $200 merlot
to let it breathe and sit back and allow my excitement build.
     
    #
     
    Exactly thirty minutes later there is a
series of hard knocks on my hotel room door. I go to answer it, a
glass of wine already in hand. Just before I grasp the handle there
comes another series of knocks. Harder than the first one.
    “ Open up already,” says a
husky, incredibly sexy female voice from the other side. Impatient,
demanding, used to being in charge. Exactly what I ordered up. My
entire body tingles with anticipation.
    I open the door and she steps in and grabs
the glass of wine out of my hand and pushes past me before I even
have a chance to get a good look at her from the front. But the
back is shaping up beautifully. Straight, jet black hair hanging
down beneath her shoulders. Short black dress hugging her
voluptuous curves perfectly, ending just above her knees,
accentuating her round ass perfectly. Gorgeous legs, toned to
perfection, not too skinny, not to muscular. Calves you just wanted
to take a bite out of. The same height as me in her 2-inch heels.
My dick is already rock-hard just from looking at her and all I can
see is her backside. This is going to be a great night.
    She drains the glass of wine and pours
herself another. She glances over her shoulder for just a moment
but still doesn’t turn towards me. It’s obvious she’s torturing me,
making me wait, playing her game. And I’m loving every second of
it.
    She finishes the second glass and finally
turns to face me. I can only stare, barely able to catch my breath
let alone speak.
    “ From the look on your face
I take it you like what you see,” she says, her voice slightly
mocking.
    I nod and take her in. Big brown eyes with a
naughty edge to them, dark blue eye shadow, full nose; not big, not
small, lips painted bright red. One corner of her mouth is turned
up in a little smirk. She looks at me with a hint of disdain, as
though she knows she’s better than me. As if I’m her little
plaything. As if she’s running the show. Which she is.
    And her tits, oh my god. Large but not
unnatural, they hang perfectly from her frame. Practically hanging
out of her black dress, they were things of beauty; if not real,
than an absolutely perfect augmentation.
    “ Oh, you like these, do
you?” she says, grabbing her tits with and pushing them together.
She smacks them, makes them bounce. Then does it again. And again,
laughing at my reaction. Nipples like pencil erasers poke through
the material, mocking me.
    And then a tit slips out of her top. Just
one. I almost cream my pants. This absolutely slays me,
irrationally turning me on in ways I can’t quantify. I shiver, take
a deep breath, force myself to calm down.
    “ You’re one jumpy little
fucker, aren’t you?” she says. “What is this, your first time or
something?”
    “ It sure feels like it,” I
say, hoping my self-depreciating manner will somehow bring my
excitement down a notch. But no such luck. Nothing short of an
ice-cold shower could have that effect on me, and the way I was
feeling tonight I doubt even that would do the trick.
    “ Well, you’re in luck,” she
says as she takes a step towards me, her eyes sizing me up with
deadly seriousness, like a lion eyeing a wounded zebra. “Because
I’m a pro. And by the end of the night, you’ll be one too.” Another
couple of steps and now she’s within arm’s length. “And there’s no
way in hell I’m going to let you cum until I’m damn well good and
ready for it. Got that, mister?”
    “ Yes ma’am.”
    “ Mistress,” she says. “You
call me mistress.”
    “ Yes, mistress,” I
say.
    She is nearly standing on top of me, her
tits pressing up against my chest. We are face to face, almost
exactly the same height. She eyes me up and down, inspecting me
like a piece of meat.
    “ So, you like a woman who
takes charge, do