anything that broaches the emotional, so his boyish grin guides me onto another topic.
“I should really get some work done; I have an early flight back.”
David jumps to his knees and on top of me with a boyish playfulness that juxtaposes his masculine body and the long silhouette of his dick, which I cannot take my eyes from as it lingers above me.
“Wait! This is your last night in Paris, and we’re lying here talking about crazy model Ana?”
“I’m already behind on my work, so I guess this is where we say our good-byes.”
“Good-byes?” he says in smug disbelief. “I just found you in the middle of Paris after thinking about you every day since Rio. I believed I would never hear from you again, never.”
“Really, you don’t have to tell me those kinds of things.”
“Well, you’re absolutely not getting rid of me so easy, so you better accept it.”
“Is that so?” I ask, seduced again with his adolescent tenacity that has probably never had a woman tell him no.
“So listen, I want to take you somewhere, but I don’t want to waste time running back to my hotel to change or anything.”
“I’m fine just staying here. I mean, it’s the Ritz.” It’s my one last attempt to end this here and now before a careless infidelity becomes a full night or perhaps even more.
David becomes silent thinking a second. He falls back onto the bed next to me and tucks under the sheets with his head against the pillow next to me.
“Listen, if we weren’t in Paris, I would say let’s just stay in the room and go at it like rabbits all night. But part of me wants to show you off to the world, especially if I only have tonight.”
“One night in Paris; it kind of sounds like a movie.” I realize there is no retreat.
“Actually, I think it’s a sex tape, but I don’t know how I know that exactly.”
David scurries into the shower as I watch him leave; his athletic torso looks as if it should preside over a rotunda all its own at the Louvre rather than wandering the mortal world with women like me chasing after it. Without moving from the bed, I see him stepping into the shower and turning on the water. He closes his eyes and lets it wash over his face and down his body. He takes my breath away, even after feeling every inch of him inside me.
I struggle under pressure when getting ready, but luckily, I planned this outfit in my head. I throw on my Rick Owens that now fits the way it should and not the way it did when I bought it on sale at Bergdorf’s. My makeup goes on sparingly, and I do a quickie blowout with the door closed as not to give away my beauty regimen to a guy who is used to women who can just put on lip-gloss and go. I look in the mirror and see a different person than when I arrived in Paris, ignited within by a passion I haven’t felt in years.
“You look incredible in that outfit … I can’t even stand it,” David says with an earnestness that has me glowing the minute I step out of the bathroom. He grabs my hand with a gusto that allows me to be the woman for the first time in a long time, and he leads me out of the room as the Ritz comes alive in a different way than I ever imagined. The lobby purrs with a sophisticated buzz of passing diners and hotel guests on their way to or returning from their fabulous adventures. Everyone seems to look at us as we pass. I smile, despite speculating if, perhaps, they wonder what a man like David is doing with a woman like me.
After such an incredible evening, I almost forgot that Paris waits just outside the walls of my room that became the perfect place in the world in those last hours. The lobby looks entirely different by night, as if dressed in the light of its best tuxedo. It dazzles with emblems of gold above grand seating areas illuminated by flickering candlelight. I have such a different feeling inside me as I pass through these revolving doors yet again, as the hotel car idles right at the curb.
“Monsieur Summers, your
“I should really get some work done; I have an early flight back.”
David jumps to his knees and on top of me with a boyish playfulness that juxtaposes his masculine body and the long silhouette of his dick, which I cannot take my eyes from as it lingers above me.
“Wait! This is your last night in Paris, and we’re lying here talking about crazy model Ana?”
“I’m already behind on my work, so I guess this is where we say our good-byes.”
“Good-byes?” he says in smug disbelief. “I just found you in the middle of Paris after thinking about you every day since Rio. I believed I would never hear from you again, never.”
“Really, you don’t have to tell me those kinds of things.”
“Well, you’re absolutely not getting rid of me so easy, so you better accept it.”
“Is that so?” I ask, seduced again with his adolescent tenacity that has probably never had a woman tell him no.
“So listen, I want to take you somewhere, but I don’t want to waste time running back to my hotel to change or anything.”
“I’m fine just staying here. I mean, it’s the Ritz.” It’s my one last attempt to end this here and now before a careless infidelity becomes a full night or perhaps even more.
David becomes silent thinking a second. He falls back onto the bed next to me and tucks under the sheets with his head against the pillow next to me.
“Listen, if we weren’t in Paris, I would say let’s just stay in the room and go at it like rabbits all night. But part of me wants to show you off to the world, especially if I only have tonight.”
“One night in Paris; it kind of sounds like a movie.” I realize there is no retreat.
“Actually, I think it’s a sex tape, but I don’t know how I know that exactly.”
David scurries into the shower as I watch him leave; his athletic torso looks as if it should preside over a rotunda all its own at the Louvre rather than wandering the mortal world with women like me chasing after it. Without moving from the bed, I see him stepping into the shower and turning on the water. He closes his eyes and lets it wash over his face and down his body. He takes my breath away, even after feeling every inch of him inside me.
I struggle under pressure when getting ready, but luckily, I planned this outfit in my head. I throw on my Rick Owens that now fits the way it should and not the way it did when I bought it on sale at Bergdorf’s. My makeup goes on sparingly, and I do a quickie blowout with the door closed as not to give away my beauty regimen to a guy who is used to women who can just put on lip-gloss and go. I look in the mirror and see a different person than when I arrived in Paris, ignited within by a passion I haven’t felt in years.
“You look incredible in that outfit … I can’t even stand it,” David says with an earnestness that has me glowing the minute I step out of the bathroom. He grabs my hand with a gusto that allows me to be the woman for the first time in a long time, and he leads me out of the room as the Ritz comes alive in a different way than I ever imagined. The lobby purrs with a sophisticated buzz of passing diners and hotel guests on their way to or returning from their fabulous adventures. Everyone seems to look at us as we pass. I smile, despite speculating if, perhaps, they wonder what a man like David is doing with a woman like me.
After such an incredible evening, I almost forgot that Paris waits just outside the walls of my room that became the perfect place in the world in those last hours. The lobby looks entirely different by night, as if dressed in the light of its best tuxedo. It dazzles with emblems of gold above grand seating areas illuminated by flickering candlelight. I have such a different feeling inside me as I pass through these revolving doors yet again, as the hotel car idles right at the curb.
“Monsieur Summers, your
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