Offering What You Desire. A Limited Time Sale! - Sex Stories

Offering What You Desire. A Limited Time Sale!

Right now Oliver’s bitter surprise is leaving him short of breath as he slowly leans up against a rusted, green lamp pole. Despite shaking his head and asking himself if this is really happening. there was Jane, his young wife, stands hand in hand with her lover, their lips touching and searching one another before locking as if in anticipation for a big encore. When they finish the two walked through the Nellington Hotel’s gold revolving door as a doorman in red and white greets them with a slight tip of his polished, plastic brim. He trails them into the hotel, careful not to be noticed but working out a plan in his head if he is. If confronted he will simply lash out with cold, haunting eyes letting the guilt devour her whole. But who was he kidding? He will scream, yell and swing at the stranger in the gray overcoat causing a huge scene. A public disturbance is a guarantee but how far will this catastrophe bury him before it’s over? He feels the dense metal revolver inside his coat pocket as perspiration forms at his temples. Watching them sign in and enter the stainless steel elevator with large green numbers above it, he approaches the balding desk clerk dressed in all black, who is clicking away on a black keyboard. Oliver recites a scene from an old black and white film he once saw in which the protagonist found himself in a similar state, hopeful it will work. “Excuse me.” The marching of clicks ends abruptly as the clerk addresses Oliver. “Yes sir, how may I help ...

... you?” “I was wondering if you knew the room number that couple signed under, just a moment ago.” The clerk studied Oliver with a suspicious look as his head tilts back. “I have a very important document belonging to that gentleman and I really need to deliver it to him.” He taps the square pocket of his coat giving the impression he has something valuable tucked away. The clerk’s brow narrows. “I can’t really give that info out, sir.” “No, I… I understand,” Oliver says, letting out a depressing sigh. “But it has to do with my career. You see, I can’t interrupt him and his” it hurts him to utter the word, “wife because I’m already in hot soup with the guy. See, he’s my boss, and if I could just hand deliver this report and save him the trip down to the lobby he’d be very appreciative.” Slipping him a fifty Oliver smiles awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the clerks scanning look. The clerk took pity on him and revealed the room number, slipping the bill into his back pocket. “You’re lucky it’s my last week here.” The bombardment of his fingers on his keyboard commences, ignoring Oliver’s departure. Leaving the elevator and waiting around the corner from the room number he was given he pauses trying to make sense of the soup swishing around inside his head, while trying to ignore the sound of blood thudding in his ears. He looks down into his pocket and laughs aloud at the position he’s in. An older gentleman sporting a worn, dark green cardigan walking by with a newspaper ...