Roy Glenn - All About The Money

When I walked into the grand lobby of the Peninsula Hotel, it was like stepping into Wonderland. A cascading staircase that forked into two directions took center stage in the massive lobby. I stepped to the right and went to the front desk. “Good evening, madam,” the clerk greeted.

“Ms. Green,” I said like Sasha instructed. “I have a reservation.”

He checked his screen, then looked up at me and smiled. “Of course, here’s your key card. Will you be needing help with luggage?”

“I’ve got it. Thanks,” I said as I took the card and headed toward the bank of elevators. I stepped off the elevator and into the deluxe suite. It was a one-bedroom corner suite with a glorious view. I opened one set of French doors that led to a terrace. I looked over the rail and felt my stomach nearly give way when I looked down.

The room was luxuriously furnished in earth tones and neutral colors. There was a decorative fireplace and even walk-in closets. I marveled at the separate dressing area with its own vanity and a separate guest bathroom. The room had a stereo system with a CD player, and the master bathroom had double sinks with a television mounted over the bathtub.

Maybe thirty minutes after I was relaxing in the California king-sized bed, there was a knock at the door.

“Shit!” I bolted upright in the bed. I looked at the clock, wondering if I could’ve misunderstood Douglas’s pick up time.

“Ah, who is it?”

“Room service,” the cheerful voice called back.

I jumped up, a bit confused. “Room service?”

“Yes, ma’am. Compliments of Ms. Deverox,” he answered.

I rushed to the door and pulled it open. When I did, the bellman wheeled in a silver cart, like they do in the movies.

“Fresh strawberries with melted chocolate and a bottle Moet,” he announced in a grand way.

“Oh, wow,” I said as I searched the room for my purse.

I slipped him a ten-dollar bill and giggled as he closed the door behind himself.

“Shit, I could really get used to living lovely like this!” I plucked one of the juiciest looking strawberries and dipped it into the bowl of melted chocolate. I bit into it and savored the flavor.

An hour later, I stumbled over to the bed. I had indulged in too much champagne and I knew I needed to pull myself together before Douglas arrived. I was glad Sasha suggested the earlier check-in.

By the time Douglas knocked on the door, I was still hanging on to a nice little buzz. I leaned against the open door wearing a simple but elegant Donna Karen silk slip dress. The fine fabric felt so good against my skin.

Douglas was a big man, with great taste in clothes. He was wearing a tailored tuxedo that looked like it may have been made specifically for his body. “You must be Stacy,” he said.

I thought about correcting him, but I wasn’t sure what Sasha had told him, so I figured I’d be Stacy tonight. “And you must be Douglas. Please, come in,” I said and I moved to the side so he could come into the room. He looked around and I could tell he was impressed.

“Ah, this is nice,” he said as his eyes rolled over my body. “Real nice,” he added.

“So where are we going tonight?” I asked.

“Excuse me?” he asked looking a little confused.

“I was asking where we were going tonight.” I repeated. “I was under the impression that we were going out for the evening.”

“Oh, that stuffy affair,” Douglas said and took a seat in a chair by the window. “I showed my face and snuck out to see you,” he said, his pudgy cheeks broke into deep-set dimples when he smiled.

“Oh?” I wasn’t sure what to say or do.

He used thick fingers to tug at his bowtie. In my mind I had prepared myself for polite conversation over a nice meal at his stuffy affair, maybe even some dancing. I thought I’d have enough time to think through what I had to do and get myself motivated over drinks. But Douglas made it clear the only thing he had on his mind was getting me out of the dress as quickly as possible.

I looked at Douglas again. Although his clothes fit him well, Douglas was shaped like a pear. He wasn’t exactly the type of man that I found particularly attractive. But that was something I would have to get used to if I wanted to get paid in this business. I thought back to my experience with The One. Being with him was easy because he was fine as hell. This was going to be a bit harder.

I started thinking about the kind of man I wished Douglas was, and that’s when I noticed I was getting wet. Visions of being loved by my faceless man flashed through my head and I zoned Douglas completely out.

“So, what do you think about that?”

I snapped out of my wishful thinking and shook my head. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said you should come over and sit on my face so I can suck you dry,” he repeated without as much as a flinch or stutter.

I hesitated.

“Oh.” He held up one of his fat fingers. Douglas pealed his jacket off, quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and stepped out of his wing tip shoes. He then dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash I hadn’t seen since my nights at the club.

He quickly peeled off several bills and held them out toward me. “I guess once we get this out of the way, we can get down to business.”

I looked at the cash then up at him.

“I know this isn’t a freebee, so let’s cut the theatrics and get to it,” he said in a cold, no-nonsense fashion.

I took the bills from his hand, careful not to snatch them, and placed them on a nearby table. I fought the urge to count as I turned and tried to lead him into the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I thought you wanted me in the room,” I offered.

He held out his hand. “Nah”-he shook his head and extended his arms to me-“why don’t you come over here?”

The instant I walked over to Douglas, he snatched up my dress, ripped off my panties, bent me over the edge of the couch and was about to ram himself into me when I said, “Condom.”

“Oh yeah,” he said and did what amounted to a giggle.

By the time I got the condom out of its package, Douglas’s dick was hard and his pants were down around his ankles. Once I got the condom on him there was no caressing, no gentle touching or foreplay. Douglas spun me around, bent me over the edge of the couch again, and rammed himself into me. He banged me like he had something on his mind and the work he put in with me might help make things better.

When Douglas grabbed the back of my hair and slammed himself into me deeper, I wanted to howl out in pain, but I bit my lip and dug into the sofa’s upholstery.

“Emmm, you are gorgeous!” he squealed. He grabbed my waist, holding me in place before slamming into me again. After the sofa, Douglas took me on the coffee table, a nearby sofa table with my leg hiked up on one side, and then again on the floor.

When we were done, I thought he might want to relax on the bed and catch his breath, but he didn’t. I watched as he picked up his discarded clothes and went in search of the restroom. Ten minutes later, a fully dressed Douglas was standing in front of me. “I like you. Tell Sasha we need to see each other again,” he said.

Before I could think of what else to say, he was gone. I picked up the money he had given me and counted it. My fee was fifteen hundred dollars. I counted it again and realized there was an extra three hundred dollars there. I saw that as a bonus Sasha didn’t need to know about. She and I had worked out a deal. My fee for use of her connections was twenty-five percent, until she thought I was ready to do my own thing.

Sasha had two hotels we used for our business. And it was simple really. I’d go to the Peninsula about twice a month, and that was always my favorite. In the past six months, I had seen Douglas twice since our last encounter. During that time I was starting to get the hang of things. I knew what to expect in most, if not all situations, and was very comfortable with myself and what I was doing.