You pulled me into the doorway alcove, pinned me against the cold concrete wall and covered my mouth with one hand. Sssshhh you told me, reaching up under my skirt. Silence now.
You’ve done a lot of wanking in hotel rooms. Those one-night trips away for work, from the same anonymous chain hotels transplanted across the cities of England to the occasional quirkily unique independent hostelry; upon entering your chamber, the first thing you look for is masturbation possibilities. Full-length mirrors? Underfloor bathroom heating? A tiny slice of viewpoint within which a glimpse could be caught from the outside world? Perhaps a comfortable chair on which to sprawl, loose-limbed and wanton; imagining hands, eyes, tongues upon you?
Another joker! Prompt #10 is ‘Daddy Kink’ and that’s not one that floats my [lone] boat[man] (fnar), so I’m taking another substitution. Maybe one day I’ll be able to write convincingly about things that aren’t in my own kink gallery, but right now I’m having too much fun writing about things that are.
Far below her, the Earth hangs bright and sparkling, a jewel of blue and white and green and brown nestling against the black velvet of space.
Tanya comes here as often as her full schedule permits, likes the serenity and spectacle of her home seen from orbit. As close to silent as possible in this humming, buzzing, creaking, clanking tin can, sometimes she visits for the tranquility. Not today though.