Detention of Desires
She came to me in a dream—unexpected and ready for me to take her as my own. This wasn’t her first time, and either was it mine. She wasn’t an escort at least I didn’t see her that way. She aimed to please men like me, and men paid her large amounts just to keep them happy, so their wives wouldn’t have to. She courted me outside one of my successful nightclubs: Pink Kitty. She wore a strapless tight red dress that showed off her beautiful long legs. Wore red nail polish and lipstick. Her hair was dark brown, and half of her hair was pushed up—with bobby pins holding in place. She smelled of Chanel perfume while smoking a cig. As pretty as she was, she didn’t have to ruin her lungs. Her eyes were an amber color and told her pain—her struggle. I stood underneath a streetlight by a fire hydrant as I finished a call with Andrew, my club promoter.
Her robe hit the ground in a drop of a dime. She was bare to me—exposed except for the red laced panties that she began to tease me.
Lowering them to the ground. Tugging—pulling it slowing...
Putting on a show.
I sat at the edge of the bed; excited; the hard-on in my jeans said enough. I watched her. Our eyes were locked, glued to each other as if we were already making love. Her sweet angelic moans would sound like music to my ears—almost like a symphony. Tugging at her hair, leaving scars on her back, hearing her call my name, pinning her to the bed as I taste her essence on my lips, my tongue.
I’d growl: loud almost primal, like a wildebeest ready to pounce on its prey, feasting on its flesh as if that was its last meal before stocking for the winter.
She wore black red-pump six-inch stilettoes, and her red laced panties had hit the floor before I noticed her perfectly shaped shaved cat staring back at me. She had gotten a bikini wax—just for me?
Frequently we’ve been meeting at the REDROSE Hotel for over seven months and tonight’s the night we have sex. When I met her at my nightclub, I knew she had already had sex by the way she carried herself, and that has nothing to do with the fact she’s an escort, but when we met, she saw something different in me and I, her. She wanted me to call her Rose, that wasn’t her real name, just the name she went by.
So, I did.
I laid back on the bed, propping my elbows on the mattress admiring Rose’s beauty as she swayed her hips side to side; giving me bedroom eyes for me to devour her with. I’ve had my share with women before Rose—I’ve had them all, even those that taught me a thing or two, but Rose—she’s different than the rest. We made an arrangement to where I’d pay her for her company. $200,000 to be exact and then some if she kept me entertained, a boy does she. Neither of us is married, I’m rich, over 4.8 billion dollars in the club business, and I find Roses’ beauty to be quite amusing.
She strides toward me slowly. I parted my legs, welcoming her as she laid on top of me, hovering on top having her hair swoop over to one side. Her lips were plump and ready to be sucked on—oh how I wanted to suck her bottom lip having my hand lock in between the back of her hair—pulling it back hearing her gasp, having her nails dig in my back as I drive my cock inside her as she wraps her legs around me. The motion of the headboard would move with us; her toes would curl, sweat beading down on her face, hitting her G-spot making her come.
I flipped her on her back, having me on top of her as I felt in between her legs.
She was soaked and ready.
“Someone’s been a naughty girl?” I say, giving her a look of hunger in my eyes.
She smiles and turns her to the side. I leave trails of small kisses from her neck all the way down to her navel. She sighs in awe, twirling her head sideways; parting her legs open as I kiss the nub of her sweet pussy. I kiss her thighs as she whimpers, and sighs some more. She arches her back, clenching tightly onto the sheets as I tasted more of her essence.
“May I continue?” I muttered?
“Yes,” she sighed.
Roses’ knees locked into places as I continued to satisfy her desires.
“Say… My… Name!” I growled.
She mumbled it instead.
“Say… My…. Name!” I commanded her. The look in my eyes told her I was serious.
“Griffin…” she whimpered.