She had deftly positioned herself on top of his hardness; he felt her heat summon his desire. The thin fabric of his shorts and her pajamas seemed to disappear ... he could merely thrust his hips forward ...
He broke the kiss and their eyes met.
"Do you know what I want?" he asked.
In a soft voice she asked, "No. What *do* you want?"
"Breakfast!" he said with glee.
And he ticked her sides and she laughed, squirming away before he could get a hold of a foot.
He picked up her camisole and held it out like a matador's cape, taunting her with a smile.
She held her fingers up like horns and made a laughing charge at the fabric.
And he ticked her some more.
She snatched back top and covered breasts with look of mock pouting.
He opened the door to the adjoining hotel room, and motioned with his thumb, and said, "Into the shower, you."
She raised her eyebrows and gave him a come-hither smile.
"Like to wash my back?" she said.
"We'll see," he said dryly.
The embraced again and he held her breasts in his hands, giving each nipple a tease with his mouth, then lingering on a final kiss on her mouth. He turned her toward the door and gave her a little pat on the behind.
"Be that way," she said.
She pulled the door shut, blowing him a kiss.
When the door closed, he noticed how hard his heart was beating.
"What a woman," he thought to himself.
He started the water for the shower and stepped out of his shorts.
In the next room, he heard her shower running. And he imagined her naked in the warm sudsy water.
Then he looked down and had an epiphany: "Ah," he thought. "This is how spontaneous combustion happens - an erection like this and you simply burst into flames."
He turned the water in the shower down as cold as he could stand it.
------------------------------------------
They met in the hallway outside their rooms. The space had that quality of sameness shared by every modern hotel hallway around the globe. As if the world were a stage, and the set designers keep reusing using the same set for every hotel hallway scene.
She emerged from her room with a little flourish and he kissed her on the cheek.
As usual, she was impeccably coifed and radiant. She wore a knit sweater that favored bust line and a skirt with buttons up the front.
Hand-in-hand they walked to the elevator. When the doors slid closed, he said in his most formal, interrogative tone: "One question I must ask, Miss. Are you wearing any underwear?"
Looking straight ahead with a Mona Lisa smile, she responded slowly, "Maybe."
May 4th 21.36
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