Like clockwork, the woman dressed in black arrives into the roach motel, stepping onto the splitting grey concrete with a click of her heel. I see her approach the door as I do every weekend and my mind runs loose. Always dressed in what they call a "sexy little black dress", hugging her thick curves in all the right ways. Her sunglasses wide across her face, looking like a Renaissance Audrey Hepburn, the sway of her hips intoxicating. Always a small black dress, always looking the definition of a thick goddess. Turning over her necessary cards she smiles a knowing, innocent smile, utterly contrictory to each other. Her aura sweet and kind, with a firey heat behind it. Every week he wanted to ask her questions, eager and hungry to know her story. Pulling her sunglasses up, her deep green eyes radiating a calm fire ,pinpointing them directly at him. And like every other week he chokes. What is it about this woman, this lady that drives him wild? He wishes he knew because all he could think is drinking her in. He noticed she always checked in for two adults, but was always alone. "Prostitute", his coworker would comment, the very thought both haunting and erotic to him. Logic would have him agree, no one would look like that, book for two and not be selling herself in some way. While others would act in abhorrence, he felt quite the opposite. He wished to have just but a taste of her world- a glimpse of all she embodied. Her sex. Her love. How she felt to hold on the lonely cold Midwestern nights. He imagined she felt like the warmth of a mother goddess in the body of a petite nympho, welcoming all of him into her cozy, heavenly ...
He blinked hard as he finished the transaction, unable to keep her any longer. Lost in her sway as she left..her round ass making him salivate. He didn't know if he could hold back any longer...he had to know her. Later, in the thick of night,that thought held him as he watched her leave her room, standing outside the hotel door.