Mathilda liked being alone—until she did not.
She was very good with her fingers—she knew how to make herself swoon. But there was a point when she wanted someone else.
The bar downstairs from her hotel room was upscale. With a glass of wine by her lips, it was easy for her to seduce her object.
There was a man, sitting in a suit. He looked like he was put out and was reading the Wall Street Journal. It turned her on to see a man who was so wound up. She looked at him, just once with her glass to her lips, and her tongue thrust out.
He looked at her, and she knew he was interested.
That was all she needed.
Blondes supposedly had more more fun, but with dark hair, Mathilda found she was not having a problem. She was so secure with this man’s interest that she actually gor up and left the bar. Left her wine glass kissed with her lipstick and she was going to be gone.
When she felt a hand on her back, she turned around not at all aurprised to see her guy there still clutching his Wall Street Journal.
“Excuse me,” he started,and she smiled.
“Yes?” she said, feigning surprise.
“The market dropped, and I could use a lift. You are a beautiful woman, and I saw you across the way…can I convonce you to stay? A glass of wine?”
“Maybe…”
Mathilda rode him like a champion. It aroused her, her hair shook about her shoulder and him groaning with pleasure beneath her… Happily it was his hotel room, and ahe was not going to have to ask him to leave.
It gave her such pleasure to take her pleasure and leave.
That was all she wanted…to love them and leave them.
Such pleasure in leaving…
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