Far Away From The City

Tiffany Tatum heads out of the city, hoping fresh air and a locked door might finally let her finish that book. The place her friend found looks quiet. Until the brunette opens it. They stand in the doorway, eyes dragging a little too long. After check-in Amirah leaves her to settle in. Tiffany writes half a page. A soft voice calls for lunch. She glances up and sees her host wearing nothing but an apron, backside bare, fabric tied in a loose bow. Then Amirah walks back to the desk, utterly bare. Tiffany sits frozen, pen still in hand. She takes the hint, finally. This isn’t a normal hotel. She could check out, but instead she smiles, loose and curious. That afternoon, when housekeeping slips in wearing crisp maid black and white, she finds Tiffany stretched across the sheets. Amirah drops the feather duster, climbs onto the mattress, and buries her mouth between smooth thighs. Her tongue works deep, hungry, until Tiffany grips the pillow and swears through clenched teeth. They roll, kiss hard, hands greedy. Fingers slick, mouths swollen. When they come it’s loud, breathy, walls shaking. Afterwards Amirah leans back, cheeks flushed, lips shiny, and grins like every fantasy she keeps has just happened at once. Tiffany lies there, flushed and laughing quietly, knowing the book can wait another day.