I walked with a purpose straight across the lobby and made my way to
what the Marriott chain must consider an upscale bar. My hand reached
up, grasped the heavy brass handle, and I gently pulled the glass door
open. As I walked in I gave the strap on my bag a tug and repositioned
it. I could hardly wait to get that hefty bag off of my shoulder and
get a cold Bacardi in my system.
My gaze scanned the room. Two senior citizens were sharing a table directly to the right of the door and discussing the menus they held in their hands. A young guy in a black suit sat across the room clicking away at his laptop. He had papers that were obviously critical to the project he was working on spread across the entire table and he thumbed through them frantically as he chewed heavily on the pen that was in his mouth. Another man, perhaps one that had left his wife and kids at the pool, sat at the bar watching a basketball game on the overhead TV with a Stella Artois in his hand. He was carefully lifting the bottle and pouring it slowly into a gold rimmed glass. He had the appearance of a man that was enjoy the quiet moment and the chance to unwind without distraction. And then there was her.
She was sitting alone toward the far end of the bar. Her black hair was cut in a short wedge across the back of her head. Her neck and shoulder were visible and her bare skin quickly disappeared into the folds of her gray cashmere dress. Her dress fit her tight and she filled every corner of it out very well. I could not help but notice how her large tits pushed the material forward or how easily her cleavage was visible from far across the bar. Her legs were long and crossed and her dress clung tightly to the middle of her thigh as she sat high on the bar stool. She had her hand wrapped around a glass that was filled with a pink drink and I watched as she lifted it off of its napkin, grabbed the straw between her fingers, gave the ice a stir, and brought the straw to her lips. I looked around the bar again. It took less than a second for me to figure out exactly where I was going to sit.
I pulled up a barstool that was two down from this beautiful woman. I didn’t want to sit too close and have her think I was some kind of creep but I wanted to be close enough that I could engage her in conversation (and also get a closer look at her body). As I sat down I sat my bag on the bar and removed the strap from my shoulder. As I did she looked up from her drink. Our eyes met and with her straw sitting between her lips she gave me a slight smile.
“Hi” I said as I gave a small wave with my hand. She gave her hand a small lift and said “Hi” back.
As the bartender came over I filled my request for a Bacardi and Coke. I could hardly wait to get a drink in front of me and I was hoping it would give me the courage to talk to the woman sitting two seats down. The glass was cold, I gave the ice a stir, removed the straw, and in two gulps it was gone. “Could I get one more of those?” I asked the bartender. “Of course” he replied as he turned away and started grabbing the rum.
Her voice was sweet with sultry undertones and I was totally surprised to hear her say “Somebody must be thirsty”. I turned toward her and she was looking directly at me, “Yeah, its been one of those days” I replied. “I can relate, mine was a real bitch too” she said back. “Well heres to shitty days being over and better nights being on the way” I said as the bartender handed me a fresh drink and I raised my glass in the air. She smiled, she probably knew that my line was a flirtatious line of shit but humored me and said “I’ll drink to that”, as she raised her glass into the air as well.
“Michelle” she said as she extended her hand. I slid over to the barstool next to her, took her amazingly soft hand in mine, and stammered back “Ma… ma… Marcus”. “Well nice to meet you Marcus, what brings you into such a crazy place?” she questioned as she glanced around the empty bar. “Here for work” I said back. “Me too” she replied. And what is it that you do Michelle?” I questioned. “I’m in business administration. I flew into town yesterday for a job interview today. Which I might add, was probably a waste of my time and money” she replied back. “And how about you, what does Marcus do to keep the lights on?” Michelle asked.
I hate being asked that question and I know exactly where this is going to end. I have improved my response over the years but eventually the true nature of my job comes out. “I do webpage layout, development, and marketing” was my response. I should have lied better. I was waiting for her to ask how long I had been a geek. I have had this conversation with dozens of women and I knew that if the conversation continued she would quickly excuse herself when we discussed the details of my job. “Sounds interesting” was her response and she followed it with a question, “Good money in that”? “Yeah, its decent” I replied back.
“Well heres to you having an interesting job” she said as she raised her glass in the air. “And to you hopefully landing a new one” I said as our glasses met with a clink. She pulled her straw into her mouth and with a loud slurp she found the bottom of her drink. “Let me get your next one” I offered as I waved for the bartender to come over. “Sure, why not?” she replied. We carried on our conversation for almost an hour as she told me about her college experience, the man who had left her for another woman, and her challenge to find herself in the business world.
After a few more drinks and some deep conversation she finally asked, “So tell me Marcus, I noticed you are carrying a pretty large camera bag and when we first met I would have bet that you were a photographer but then you told me you are a computer guy. Do you mind if I ask why a computer guy has to carry a big camera bag around instead of a laptop?”. Here we go I thought, now she was asking the questions that would have her quickly excusing herself. “I do all my own photography for the web pages I design” I started to explain. “What is it that you photograph? Cars? Buildings? People?” she asked. “People” I replied.
She looked as if she was surprised. “Really? What kind of people have their picture taken for a webpage?” she asked. “Well, adult people” I said back. This amazingly beautiful woman that I had really enjoyed spending the last hour or so with was starting to ask the questions I had been asked before and was about to discover the true nature of my job.
All I could do was tell her the truth.
“Do you use models?” she asked. “Well yeah, you could say I do” I replied.
She returned to her drink and I returned to mine. “Well I’m glad I met you Marcus” she said as her fingers began to clutch her purse. This was it. The only woman in the entire hotel bar and she was about to pick up her purse and walk away. I searched for words that I could use to keep her beside me but I knew that the continued questioning would only push her away.
“Would you be willing to take a picture for me?” she asked.
This was not what I expected, she was supposed to get up and walk away. “I need a good picture to put with my resume” she began explaining. “You have a camera and the experience and I am wearing my favorite dress, what do you say? Will you take my picture?” she was almost begging. I was hesitant, “Gee Michele, I don’t have a back drop or anything to put behind you and we’re sitting in a bar, it really isn’t the best location for a portrait” I replied back.
“I don’t need perfection” she said. “Come on, grab your camera” she begged again as she sat back in the barstool and gave her hair a flip. “Fine” I said as I smiled, reached into my bag, and grabbed out my Nikon. Her beautiful face filled the view finder as I began to push the shutter release. Click. Click. Click. With each release of the shutter she would move her head slightly. “Think you have a good one?” she asked. “Well I would hope so” I said as I opened up the review screen. “Let me see” she said as she began to pull the camera out of my hands.
Just as the camera was leaving my hand I looked down at the counter to see how many pictures I had taken. 346. No, I just took 20 at the most. It rapidly dawned on me that I had I forgotten to offload my memory card after shooting today. How could I make that mistake? “Here Michelle, let me review those for you” I quickly said as I realized my mistake and reached for the camera. She gave me a smirk. “I’m not an idiot, I know how to use a camera” she said as she began to run through the pictures.
I was done. I knew I was just seconds away from her handing me the camera, perhaps slapping my face, and walking away pissed off. Michelle’s finger continued to push the review button and as she advanced the images she would comment on each photo. “Oh, I like this one… Oh my God, I was squinting… This one makes me look funny”, each photo of her came with a comment, and then the comments stopped.
She looked up from the camera and looked me in the eye. I looked back at her and was waiting for the sound of the smack as her hand found my face. She looked down and advanced to the next image. She again looked up at me and raised an eyebrow before looking down again. “I can explain” I said. She just smiled, shook her head and continued to review my pictures. “I do websites for call girls, dancers and anyone else that sells images of their bodies or of them having sex” I explained. Michelle had a blank look on her face as she continued to review my pictures.
Finally she looked up at me. “You do amazing work” she said. “Your pictures are really erotic, they’re really, really, explicit, but they’re incredibly erotic too”.
Did this beautiful woman just tell me she liked my pictures? Was I not just sitting in a bar taking headshots of her minutes ago to only have her now gazing at images of the folds of another woman’s pussy?
“Thanks” I said as I tried to recall the last images I took that day and what she may have been looking at. “Can I have my camera back?” I asked. “Of course” she said as she handed it to me. “Sorry about that” I said as an apology. “Are you kidding me? Those are amazing, I’m lucky to have seen them” she replied back. I smiled at her. She smiled back. We both turned away from each other and faced our drinks while we sat in silence.
After what seemed like forever Michelle finally spoke, “Marcus, can you make any woman look as amazing as the one in those pictures”? “I suppose I can” I said, “most of it is just proper lighting and camera angle”. She sat further up in her seat and touched my arm as she turned toward me. “Really? You don’t think the model makes a huge difference?” she asked.
“I’ve shot a lot of pictures in my time and I suppose the model does matter a little bit but most of my pictures come from just knowing how to use the camera to take the picture” I replied. Michelle sat back in her barstool, picked up her drink, and sucked the straw until her glass was empty. “Can we get another round over here?” she asked as she sat her glass down and directed her questions to the bartender.
I was shocked that she wasn’t running away. I asked myself if she had really just ordered us both another drink? Obviously not everything about our chance encounter was going as bad as I had anticipated. So many things were running through my mind as the bartender mixed fresh drinks and sat the glasses in front of us before he turned away.
Michelle lifted her drink and once again pushed it up into the air. She turned her entire body toward me and as I turned to join her in a toast I was shocked at what I saw. Her crossed legs were now slightly open and it seemed as if she had lifted her dress up just high enough to offer me a view between her thighs that showed just the top of her stockings. I was pleasantly surprised and slightly embarrassed for her as I quickly looked up to meet her gaze. “To good times, new friends, and whatever the night may hold” she said as she thrust her glass toward mine.
Our glasses made the familiar clinking sound and we both pulled them away from one another and to our lips. Michelle was looking past the rim of her glass and deep into my eyes as she slowly took a drink from her glass. As we returned our glasses to their spots on the bar Michelle said “Marcus, do you think you could take a picture of me and make it look like the ones on your camera”? I almost spit my drink out when she asked. “What?” I asked as if I had not heard her correctly.
She looked from side to side and realized, with the exception of the bartender, we were now alone in the bar. She leaned back in her barstool and allowed her legs to fall open. Her right hand grabbed the seam on the front of her dress and she slowly slid it to the top of her thighs. As her pussy came into view I could see her inner lips protruding slightly out. “I want you take pictures of me like the ones on your camera” she said again, “do you think you can do that”?
I was shocked and as I looked away from her pussy and back toward her eyes I struggled to find the right words. I started to explain to her that those pictures took planning, and lighting, and a studio, and… “Shhh, grab your camera” she instructed. I did as she said and lifted the Nikon off the bar. She looked around the bar and as soon as she was certain that no one could see her she again lifted the front of her skirt. “Now” she whispered as she pointed the lens of the camera toward her wetness and told me to take the picture. The shutter released and she said “That should give you something to remember me by” as she pulled her skirt back down.
I was in awe. This beautiful woman that I had known for less than an hour had just flashed her most intimate parts at me and demanded that I take a picture. “Well that is not how I expected meeting you to go” I said. Michelle smiled at me and with a wink she lifted her drink to her lips. I set the camera down and did the same.
“Would you like to take some more pictures” she asked? “Of course” I said, “but I don’t want to end up in jail for doing it”. Michelle laughed and smiled at me again. She finished her drink and stood up beside her stool. “I’ll be right back, I need to make a run to the girl’s room” she said as she turned and began walking toward the back of the bar. I sat back in total disbelief and picked up the Nikon. I flipped the power on and went to the review screen. There in front of me was the perfect picture of her wet lips resting against her dress as it laid tightly across the barstool leather.
I quickly returned the camera to the bar and it was none too soon because Michelle came walking back from her trip to the bathroom.
“Give me your room key” she demanded.
“I need it to get into my room” I replied.
“Stop at the front desk and get another one, unless you don’t want me to meet you in your room in 30 minutes” she said back.
I grabbed my key and handed it over. “422” I said as she took it from my hand and walked away.
I watched her amazing ass sway under her dress as she made her way out of the bar and across the lobby. The bartender leaned beside me and said “I can’t believe you let her leave, she seemed like she was looking for some company”. “Can’t win them all” I said as I finished my drink and asked for my tab.
My gaze scanned the room. Two senior citizens were sharing a table directly to the right of the door and discussing the menus they held in their hands. A young guy in a black suit sat across the room clicking away at his laptop. He had papers that were obviously critical to the project he was working on spread across the entire table and he thumbed through them frantically as he chewed heavily on the pen that was in his mouth. Another man, perhaps one that had left his wife and kids at the pool, sat at the bar watching a basketball game on the overhead TV with a Stella Artois in his hand. He was carefully lifting the bottle and pouring it slowly into a gold rimmed glass. He had the appearance of a man that was enjoy the quiet moment and the chance to unwind without distraction. And then there was her.
She was sitting alone toward the far end of the bar. Her black hair was cut in a short wedge across the back of her head. Her neck and shoulder were visible and her bare skin quickly disappeared into the folds of her gray cashmere dress. Her dress fit her tight and she filled every corner of it out very well. I could not help but notice how her large tits pushed the material forward or how easily her cleavage was visible from far across the bar. Her legs were long and crossed and her dress clung tightly to the middle of her thigh as she sat high on the bar stool. She had her hand wrapped around a glass that was filled with a pink drink and I watched as she lifted it off of its napkin, grabbed the straw between her fingers, gave the ice a stir, and brought the straw to her lips. I looked around the bar again. It took less than a second for me to figure out exactly where I was going to sit.
I pulled up a barstool that was two down from this beautiful woman. I didn’t want to sit too close and have her think I was some kind of creep but I wanted to be close enough that I could engage her in conversation (and also get a closer look at her body). As I sat down I sat my bag on the bar and removed the strap from my shoulder. As I did she looked up from her drink. Our eyes met and with her straw sitting between her lips she gave me a slight smile.
“Hi” I said as I gave a small wave with my hand. She gave her hand a small lift and said “Hi” back.
As the bartender came over I filled my request for a Bacardi and Coke. I could hardly wait to get a drink in front of me and I was hoping it would give me the courage to talk to the woman sitting two seats down. The glass was cold, I gave the ice a stir, removed the straw, and in two gulps it was gone. “Could I get one more of those?” I asked the bartender. “Of course” he replied as he turned away and started grabbing the rum.
Her voice was sweet with sultry undertones and I was totally surprised to hear her say “Somebody must be thirsty”. I turned toward her and she was looking directly at me, “Yeah, its been one of those days” I replied. “I can relate, mine was a real bitch too” she said back. “Well heres to shitty days being over and better nights being on the way” I said as the bartender handed me a fresh drink and I raised my glass in the air. She smiled, she probably knew that my line was a flirtatious line of shit but humored me and said “I’ll drink to that”, as she raised her glass into the air as well.
“Michelle” she said as she extended her hand. I slid over to the barstool next to her, took her amazingly soft hand in mine, and stammered back “Ma… ma… Marcus”. “Well nice to meet you Marcus, what brings you into such a crazy place?” she questioned as she glanced around the empty bar. “Here for work” I said back. “Me too” she replied. And what is it that you do Michelle?” I questioned. “I’m in business administration. I flew into town yesterday for a job interview today. Which I might add, was probably a waste of my time and money” she replied back. “And how about you, what does Marcus do to keep the lights on?” Michelle asked.
I hate being asked that question and I know exactly where this is going to end. I have improved my response over the years but eventually the true nature of my job comes out. “I do webpage layout, development, and marketing” was my response. I should have lied better. I was waiting for her to ask how long I had been a geek. I have had this conversation with dozens of women and I knew that if the conversation continued she would quickly excuse herself when we discussed the details of my job. “Sounds interesting” was her response and she followed it with a question, “Good money in that”? “Yeah, its decent” I replied back.
“Well heres to you having an interesting job” she said as she raised her glass in the air. “And to you hopefully landing a new one” I said as our glasses met with a clink. She pulled her straw into her mouth and with a loud slurp she found the bottom of her drink. “Let me get your next one” I offered as I waved for the bartender to come over. “Sure, why not?” she replied. We carried on our conversation for almost an hour as she told me about her college experience, the man who had left her for another woman, and her challenge to find herself in the business world.
After a few more drinks and some deep conversation she finally asked, “So tell me Marcus, I noticed you are carrying a pretty large camera bag and when we first met I would have bet that you were a photographer but then you told me you are a computer guy. Do you mind if I ask why a computer guy has to carry a big camera bag around instead of a laptop?”. Here we go I thought, now she was asking the questions that would have her quickly excusing herself. “I do all my own photography for the web pages I design” I started to explain. “What is it that you photograph? Cars? Buildings? People?” she asked. “People” I replied.
She looked as if she was surprised. “Really? What kind of people have their picture taken for a webpage?” she asked. “Well, adult people” I said back. This amazingly beautiful woman that I had really enjoyed spending the last hour or so with was starting to ask the questions I had been asked before and was about to discover the true nature of my job.
All I could do was tell her the truth.
“Do you use models?” she asked. “Well yeah, you could say I do” I replied.
She returned to her drink and I returned to mine. “Well I’m glad I met you Marcus” she said as her fingers began to clutch her purse. This was it. The only woman in the entire hotel bar and she was about to pick up her purse and walk away. I searched for words that I could use to keep her beside me but I knew that the continued questioning would only push her away.
“Would you be willing to take a picture for me?” she asked.
This was not what I expected, she was supposed to get up and walk away. “I need a good picture to put with my resume” she began explaining. “You have a camera and the experience and I am wearing my favorite dress, what do you say? Will you take my picture?” she was almost begging. I was hesitant, “Gee Michele, I don’t have a back drop or anything to put behind you and we’re sitting in a bar, it really isn’t the best location for a portrait” I replied back.
“I don’t need perfection” she said. “Come on, grab your camera” she begged again as she sat back in the barstool and gave her hair a flip. “Fine” I said as I smiled, reached into my bag, and grabbed out my Nikon. Her beautiful face filled the view finder as I began to push the shutter release. Click. Click. Click. With each release of the shutter she would move her head slightly. “Think you have a good one?” she asked. “Well I would hope so” I said as I opened up the review screen. “Let me see” she said as she began to pull the camera out of my hands.
Just as the camera was leaving my hand I looked down at the counter to see how many pictures I had taken. 346. No, I just took 20 at the most. It rapidly dawned on me that I had I forgotten to offload my memory card after shooting today. How could I make that mistake? “Here Michelle, let me review those for you” I quickly said as I realized my mistake and reached for the camera. She gave me a smirk. “I’m not an idiot, I know how to use a camera” she said as she began to run through the pictures.
I was done. I knew I was just seconds away from her handing me the camera, perhaps slapping my face, and walking away pissed off. Michelle’s finger continued to push the review button and as she advanced the images she would comment on each photo. “Oh, I like this one… Oh my God, I was squinting… This one makes me look funny”, each photo of her came with a comment, and then the comments stopped.
She looked up from the camera and looked me in the eye. I looked back at her and was waiting for the sound of the smack as her hand found my face. She looked down and advanced to the next image. She again looked up at me and raised an eyebrow before looking down again. “I can explain” I said. She just smiled, shook her head and continued to review my pictures. “I do websites for call girls, dancers and anyone else that sells images of their bodies or of them having sex” I explained. Michelle had a blank look on her face as she continued to review my pictures.
Finally she looked up at me. “You do amazing work” she said. “Your pictures are really erotic, they’re really, really, explicit, but they’re incredibly erotic too”.
Did this beautiful woman just tell me she liked my pictures? Was I not just sitting in a bar taking headshots of her minutes ago to only have her now gazing at images of the folds of another woman’s pussy?
“Thanks” I said as I tried to recall the last images I took that day and what she may have been looking at. “Can I have my camera back?” I asked. “Of course” she said as she handed it to me. “Sorry about that” I said as an apology. “Are you kidding me? Those are amazing, I’m lucky to have seen them” she replied back. I smiled at her. She smiled back. We both turned away from each other and faced our drinks while we sat in silence.
After what seemed like forever Michelle finally spoke, “Marcus, can you make any woman look as amazing as the one in those pictures”? “I suppose I can” I said, “most of it is just proper lighting and camera angle”. She sat further up in her seat and touched my arm as she turned toward me. “Really? You don’t think the model makes a huge difference?” she asked.
“I’ve shot a lot of pictures in my time and I suppose the model does matter a little bit but most of my pictures come from just knowing how to use the camera to take the picture” I replied. Michelle sat back in her barstool, picked up her drink, and sucked the straw until her glass was empty. “Can we get another round over here?” she asked as she sat her glass down and directed her questions to the bartender.
I was shocked that she wasn’t running away. I asked myself if she had really just ordered us both another drink? Obviously not everything about our chance encounter was going as bad as I had anticipated. So many things were running through my mind as the bartender mixed fresh drinks and sat the glasses in front of us before he turned away.
Michelle lifted her drink and once again pushed it up into the air. She turned her entire body toward me and as I turned to join her in a toast I was shocked at what I saw. Her crossed legs were now slightly open and it seemed as if she had lifted her dress up just high enough to offer me a view between her thighs that showed just the top of her stockings. I was pleasantly surprised and slightly embarrassed for her as I quickly looked up to meet her gaze. “To good times, new friends, and whatever the night may hold” she said as she thrust her glass toward mine.
Our glasses made the familiar clinking sound and we both pulled them away from one another and to our lips. Michelle was looking past the rim of her glass and deep into my eyes as she slowly took a drink from her glass. As we returned our glasses to their spots on the bar Michelle said “Marcus, do you think you could take a picture of me and make it look like the ones on your camera”? I almost spit my drink out when she asked. “What?” I asked as if I had not heard her correctly.
She looked from side to side and realized, with the exception of the bartender, we were now alone in the bar. She leaned back in her barstool and allowed her legs to fall open. Her right hand grabbed the seam on the front of her dress and she slowly slid it to the top of her thighs. As her pussy came into view I could see her inner lips protruding slightly out. “I want you take pictures of me like the ones on your camera” she said again, “do you think you can do that”?
I was shocked and as I looked away from her pussy and back toward her eyes I struggled to find the right words. I started to explain to her that those pictures took planning, and lighting, and a studio, and… “Shhh, grab your camera” she instructed. I did as she said and lifted the Nikon off the bar. She looked around the bar and as soon as she was certain that no one could see her she again lifted the front of her skirt. “Now” she whispered as she pointed the lens of the camera toward her wetness and told me to take the picture. The shutter released and she said “That should give you something to remember me by” as she pulled her skirt back down.
I was in awe. This beautiful woman that I had known for less than an hour had just flashed her most intimate parts at me and demanded that I take a picture. “Well that is not how I expected meeting you to go” I said. Michelle smiled at me and with a wink she lifted her drink to her lips. I set the camera down and did the same.
“Would you like to take some more pictures” she asked? “Of course” I said, “but I don’t want to end up in jail for doing it”. Michelle laughed and smiled at me again. She finished her drink and stood up beside her stool. “I’ll be right back, I need to make a run to the girl’s room” she said as she turned and began walking toward the back of the bar. I sat back in total disbelief and picked up the Nikon. I flipped the power on and went to the review screen. There in front of me was the perfect picture of her wet lips resting against her dress as it laid tightly across the barstool leather.
I quickly returned the camera to the bar and it was none too soon because Michelle came walking back from her trip to the bathroom.
“Give me your room key” she demanded.
“I need it to get into my room” I replied.
“Stop at the front desk and get another one, unless you don’t want me to meet you in your room in 30 minutes” she said back.
I grabbed my key and handed it over. “422” I said as she took it from my hand and walked away.
I watched her amazing ass sway under her dress as she made her way out of the bar and across the lobby. The bartender leaned beside me and said “I can’t believe you let her leave, she seemed like she was looking for some company”. “Can’t win them all” I said as I finished my drink and asked for my tab.
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