This is my very first attempt at this. I have no idea whatsoever if it's good, bad or indifferent and would really appreciate feedback. I didn't start out intending this to be the first in a series, but I thought this was long enough and the ending leaves a few possibilities open.....
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"Looking for someone to collaborate on a story with me" she wrote. "There's a mixup with hotel reservations we have made which, of course, leads to wild sex". Always up for the challenge of fantasising about sex with a stranger in a hotel, I 'apply' for the position of collaborator, admitting I am new to this. A while later she replies.....
Her: You start, I want to see if you can intrigue me and hold my attention. Most don't and I am easily bored.
Me: [Ok, I'll do my best, here goes] It's Friday evening, I am in town alone for the weekend for the rugby and to catch up with some old friends. Though I am in my 50's and far from what you might call trendy, I have booked a well-known boutique hotel in the buzziest part of town which has a great, buzzy bar where my and the 'lads' (also all in their 50's....) can come after the match.
"Room 326" says the receptionist, handing me one of those easy-to-lose-and-usually-don't-work-first-time keycards and pointing to the lifts on the left. I sling my small backpack (another pair of jeans, a semi-smart shirt, socks, toothbrush....if I didnt forget anything) over my shoulder and head up. The room is at the end of the corridor and, miraculously, the keycard worked.
The room was nice, plenty big enough with a large window overlooking the main square. I threw my bag onto the bed, the noticed that there was a suitcase on the floor, open with the top against the wall. From the half-unpacked contents I could see that it clearly belonged to a woman, the main clue being the lingerie and the 4" black Louboutins (my wife loves shoes, I love seeing her in them, I don't love that most pairs cost more than my first car). The wardrobe door was half open and I could see some dresses hanging there. I didn't look closely but they looked expensive.
Realising there had been a mixup, I grabbed my bag and went back down to the reception and explained the situation. The receptionist apologised profusely and, unsurprisingly, blamed a new staff member on an earlier shift. She said there was another room available but they needed 30 minutes to get it ready, inviting me to wait in the hotel bar with a complementary cocktail. The bar was busy, full of well-dressed after-work crowd mixed with the pre-theatre set but I spotted one bar stool free right at the end of the bar. "Is this seat taken?" I asked the lady with the blond hair and black dress sitting on the next stool tapping on her phone.
That lady, unbeknownst to me, is you. [Over to you]
Her: [Not the worst I have seen, at least you can write a coherent sentence or two and you haven't mentioned your cock once (yet). I notice you didn't say how beautiful I am.]
Me: I have only seen your back and hair, give me a break!
Her: I glance at you and say "help yourself", noticing that you don't look half bad. You are a bit underdressed for this place with jeans, white t-shirt and sweater, but you are tall, not TOO ugly and with a flat stomach. My phone buzzes again, another message from my husband telling me his train has been cancelled and he will be at least an hour late. I make a growly, grumbly, irritated sound and take a sip of my martini.
Me: I order a beer and, as one does, take out my phone to while away the time scrolling the sports pages when I hear the lady's clearly irritated "hmmmm, typical" and steal a glance at her. I notice now that she is probably in her mid-40's, very attractive, with shortish blond hair, high cheekbones and, from what I can see at least, a great body accentuated by her figure hugging black dress. I quickly look away but not before she sees me stealing a glance.
Her: "Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you"
Me: [You aren't giving me much to work with!] "No problem", I say and then, for some reason, "is everything ok?". I felt like an idiot as soon as I said that, she would think I was hitting on her and I didn't intend to, at least not consciously.
Her: "My husband telling me he will be an hour late, which means he will miss the start of the play. Plus I have to sit here alone like a wallflower. He is always doing something like this, missing trains, getting stuck in traffic jams, forgetting his passport.....drives me nuts". I take another glance at the chap next to me, 50-something probably, tanned, clearly an ex-athlete or someone who is vain enough to want to look like he is. Not unattractive though and he speaks nicely, Plus he doesn't look like he's hitting on me which is a bonus. I decide to engage a little, "what about you, is your wife joining you?"
