The reality involved us meeting regularly. Sometimes two or three times a week, a different hotel each time. She'd find me, we'd get a room, fling our...clothes off and screw madly. I'd come, she wouldn't. We'd fall asleep in one another's arms, wake up in the dead of night, do it again, I'd come, she wouldn't. And by morning I'd awake every time to find her gone. Vanished. No note. No evidence she'd even been there besides the rumpled bed sheets and stench of sex, both in the air and mixed with. The beige walls had occasional paintings of abstract art that were surprisingly well done. Spotting the edges of the room were chairs, coffee tables, and a few potted plants of varying size. A busty woman behind a counter looked up from her fashion magazine at you.She was dressed proactively, but not too excessive. Her long and flowing blond hair complimented her sparkling blue dress. She blinked ditzily at you with wide eyes and an even wider smile, showing off a face of joy that highlighted. More

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