Bondage

The hotel bar is an entity in it’s own right, a place with it’s own rules and social norms. I adore a good hotel bar for many reasons, one of which being the hansom travelers just waiting for a little trouble.
In between apartments, I was holding up in the Tribeca Grand for a few days. Having just returned from Miami my skin was tan and it made my hot pink lips even seductive. I was sipping champagne, letting the bubbles dance on my tongue, while my bartender Justin and I tried to figure out how we knew each other… I have an eye for faces.

The two gentlemen next to me at the bar kept glancing my way. I smiled and introduced myself; one was a complete disaster but the other was spot-on. Tall, handsome, impeccably dressed and English, I’m not quite sure if it gets better than that.

Lets call him James Bond Guy.

James Bond Guy was straight out of a film. Everything about him was utter perfection; a creature created for our viewing pleasure. He told me he worked for the government in England, who was I to question? We shared a few rounds at the hotel bar before he invited me to join him for dinner.

We headed around the corner to a small place with a glaring red light outside. His eyes never left mine the entire meal. The way he looked at me sent chills running down my spine, it was like he could tell exactly what I wanted to do to him and was daring me to try. We finished off the second bottle of wine and I tried again, “what is it exactly that you do?”

Some how our conversation had meandered to the topic of cars, a passion of mine, and I couldn’t quite figure out how anyone working for the government was able to afford a Bentley Continental. That’s when he told me, British Secret Service, MI5. Like anyone with half a brain I immediately shot it down, but he had the goods to back it up.

We left the restaurant and stumbled back to the hotel, his arm around my waist, guiding the way. Just outside the revolving door, he pulled me inward and kissed me. His hands on my face, pulling my chin upward, I breathed him in deep. His scent was sexual and masculine and his strong kiss was getting me too turned on to resist him.

We stepped into the glass elevator, eager to get upstairs. The door swung open and it was a matter of seconds before my head hit the pillow. His hands sliding up my dress, feeling every inch of my body. I could see how excited he was, he kissed my legs, knees and inner thighs, getting so close to feeling how wet I was for him, then he stopped. James Bond Guy grabbed my wrist and pulled me up to meet his kiss. As we kissed he slid his fingers inside me and I let out a short breath. He pulled me off the bed and led me to the shower… I couldn’t wait to see what he had in mind.