A collection of short stories and journalistic commentaries depicting my simple life
and how I fit in with the modern day universe of our times

Yes! Tonight's gonna be the night, the 48 year old George now thought to himself as he snapped the locks closed on his briefcase. That was the week’s business all concluded and all that remained, was for him to find a hotel for the night, courtesy of his company's expense account, He was only 140 miles from home and could have easily made the trip back, if he had so desired. But tonight of all nights, he didn't desire in the least. All week he had been working Coventry, painstakingly trudging every high street and back alley. Selling to local businesses and while he was away from home, he was determined he was going to make the most of it.

Everything had already been planned out in his mind, and now, all his wildest dreams and fantasies were just hours from finally being realised. He found a quiet and homely looking hotel, situated just on the eastern border of the city. He booked himself a double room and proceeded up the stairway to deposit his belongings on his new bed. Leaving his stuff still packed, he wandered back down to the hotel restaurant and fed himself up in preparation for the night ahead. He feasted like a king from the full, a la carte menu.

Leaving the restaurant, he ordered a couple of bottles of bubbly for his room and returning to his room shortly afterwards, George took a small, laminated business card out of his jacket pocket and copied the number into the keypad on the telephone by the side of the super-king size bed. There were four rings...

"Angel Escorts," said the cheery female voice.

            George coughed to clear his throat. "Erm ... hello there, I'm at the Victory Hotel and was wondering if you could send someone my way," he enquired shyly. He had now fully committed himself to his actions and gaining strength from this new found conviction, he continued rather awkwardly, "someone er ... playful, if you know what I mean."

            "Certainly sir, we have three girls currently available in your area this evening. There's Chrissy, she's 32 with a voluptuous 38-30-36 figure, and she’s five foot four with long dark hair and hazel eyes. Or then there's Heather, 22, blue eyes, short blond hair, outgoing personality, five foot two and a figure of 36-26-34. Or we also have Jasmine, our oriental for the evening sir..."

            Without any hesitation at all, George had opted for Heather. He loved blondes and Heather was a name he had grown to love over the years. The formalities of payment were dispensed with, and the woman on the phone ended with a cheerful, "Ok sir, Heather will be with you in about half an hour, Enjoy your evening sir,"

            Putting down the receiver, George walked over to the mini bar and poured himself a drink. He just had time to take a shower and order up a bouquet of flowers before his sweetly anticipated guest would arrive. He jumped up from the bed and set to.

            Returning from the shower, he towelled his short gaunt body dry, combed his receding hairline back into fashion and liberally splashed himself with a cheap and bitter smelling aftershave. Knowing what was to be on the cards, he thought to himself, there's not much point in getting dressed, and covered his ageing frame with no more than a white, terry-towelling bath robe.

            A knock on the door brought forth the champagne and flowers he had previously ordered. The waiter entered and set up the flowers on a table alongside the bed and passed the champagne to George. George tipped the waiter and retreated back into his room with the two bottles. He opened one, poured himself a glass and lay over the bed in anticipation of the next person to come knocking. During his wait, he let his mind wander, thinking about the night's pleasures to come...  

            Smiling to himself, he imagined his new playmate Heather, her warm inviting body, wrapped with a taut, tight skin sporting her ample, but firm young breasts. The erotic dance she would perform, showcasing her pert bottom and long slender legs, to set the evening's mood. The hours they would later spend together, arms and legs all entwined in a knot of eternal oral and carnal ecstasy. Then, lying spent in each other's arms afterwards, each taking turns at coming back for more and more and more. Tonight was going to be the night alright, oh yes, he reaffirmed to himself, as he replenished his glass.

            It was twenty five minutes gone now; he had just five more minutes to wait. He re-focussed his attention on his mystery date for a while longer. Idealising a shapely, demure face with piercing blue eyes and beneath, a perky little button nose, and plump pouting lips, framing her pearly white and perfectly formed teeth. Imagining every item of clothing she would be wearing as she walked through his door and fantasising over the fun they would both have, as he slowly undressed her, kissing every inch of her wanton body as he released her from the bondage of her attire. He imagined running his hands up and down her trembling, but wielding torso. Exploring each and every nook and cranny he could find, those only accessible to the touch of real lovers.
There was an abrupt knocking at the door, shaking George instantly from his daydreams...         

He immediately jumped to attention and walked quickly over to greet his very welcome visitor.

            "Mr Martin? Mr George Martin? It's me... Heather," came a familiar sounding voice from behind the door.

            "One minute please," George replied as he quickly adjusted the belt on his robe. "I'm coming."

            "Not yet I hope!" She giggled, trying to make light of any awkwardness there might have been. He stood, trembling somewhat nervously at the door, took a large intake of breath, forced a smile and reached for the handle. Pulling the door slowly open towards him, his eyes widened to take in the full beauty of the evening's well chosen playmate ... and then...
"Dad?" the girl cried out.

            "Heather?" exclaimed George simultaneously, to his daughter.
The two of them just stood there. Both instantly racked with an instant guilt, red faced and not knowing where to look or what to say. Time stood still for an eternity between them as they both fought for an excuse for the predicament they had both landed themselves in. The only ‘fucks’ in that room tonight, would be the ones whispered under their breath.

HOOKED FOR THE NIGHTSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend


  1. Becky said...
    How long have you been writing fiction for?
    Or is this based on fact?
    stephie said...
    very good story ! like last sentence ! talk about blue balls !

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