How much did he pay you?” I enjoyed watching this one dress. He had a slow methodical style, much like having sex with him. His dark eyes twinkled in the twilight of the afternoon as he fastened the cuff of his dress shirt. My heart ached, but more than that, my body ached to have him just once more.
“Does it matter? Was it good for you?” His boyish smile produced a sexy dimple on his firm jaw.
I stretched luxuriously beneath the smooth, white hotel sheets and returned a savory smile. “It was perfect, darling. I just hope that it was worth every cent he gave you.” I sat up and leaned back against the tufted headboard, not bothering to cover my nakedness.
He chuckled. I chuckled in return. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m not paranoid. Despite my age, I keep myself fit. My body has always been a sense of pride for me. It’s so much easier to find good clothes. Having had the good fortune to marry late in life and to a man twice-before married, and like me, not interested in having a family affords me to enjoy a tight, firm body as well as my dear husband’s wealth.
My afternoon lover sauntered to the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned, revealing his tan, chiseled, and smooth-meant-for-my-hands-chest. The man could have been Navy seal by his physique. He wouldn’t tell me his name, and I knew it was better this way, just like the others before him.
“You were fantastic,” he whispered leaning toward me to offer a soft kiss of his approval.
“I know,” I whispered as I curled my hand around his neck, tufting my fingers through his wayward dark hair. I loved the way it curled up at the end of his collar. His kiss was sweet and thorough, producing a throbbing between my legs that screamed with need. I wanted the warmth of his young, firm body drilling deep into me, his breath hot against my shoulder, muffling his exquisite determination. I love a man who’s goes after what he wants.
He pulled away and slid a strand of my hair over the back of my ear. His deep brown eyes, the color of fresh, hot espresso, stared into mine. An intimate gesture, also against the rules.
“You’re one of the best, sweetheart.”
“True, but I bet you say that to all your clients.” I held his sexy gaze, perhaps to challenge him, perhaps because I wanted to keep my pride. It was no secret to either of us that my husband paid him to service me, because he couldn’t get it up himself.
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