Buying Thyme Read Online Free
Author: TJ Hamilton
Stephenson, you make my job easy.”
“Please call me Michael Miranda.”
He’s now sta nding a little too close to me and grabs around the side of my waist. I move toward the hotel phone, releasing his attempt at an embrace. He looks slightly incensed, but relieved once I pick up the hotel phone receiver.
“May I?”
“Oh I knew there was something else you did last time… of course.” He tips his head to the side as he sizes me up.
I turn to try and ignore his eager ogling and speak to room service on the other end of the line.
“Yes. A bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, a bowl of strawberries and cream, and half a dozen oysters to room 2207 please.” I request, totally in control of what’s about to transpire for my stuntman.
When I turn back he’s standing right up against me again. I can smell the slight odour of hard liquor on his breath. Boy this guy is keen.
“Did Miss Stephanie get my test results?”
“I’m here aren’t I?” I softly breathe inches from his mouth as he pushes up against me.
Every client is screened with health checks before they’re allowed to book any of the girls. Miss Stephanie then repeats the same checks every four months. The rules are much stricter for the girls who work there, with checks due every month. No test, no work... her rules.
“So what have you got planned for me tonight Miranda?” He asks in a low voice.
He brushes the back of his index finger across my right nipple, triggering it to stand to attention through my thin layers. It sends a sensation down to my toes and creeps back up to my groin, and it feels good.
“Well Michael, seeing as you have only booked me for two hours, I’ll have to put my original ideas on ice until another time.” My lips faintly touch Michael’s and I hear his breathing change in rhythm.
“Call Miss Stephanie. I want you all night Miranda. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the last time we… I haven’t been with anyone else since I was with you. Here. Feel.”
He grabs my hand and pushes it down onto his bulging erection that’s pushing hard against his underpants. I cup his tight package i n my hand and tug down slightly.
“ Ah … Miranda, you have no idea what you do to me.”
“Well let me call Miss Stephanie and you will have all night to show me what I do to you.” I sneer, thinking that Michael is yet another mere male powerless to the force of my sexual prowess.
It’s just too easy to make money in this game.
After organising the extension details on the booking, I turn my attention back to my poor horny stuntman. He’s now setting out the delivery of oysters, strawberries and champagne on the ledge of the window-hugging bathtub.
“So Michael, we have all night now.” I stand with my hands on my hips, toe slightly pointed out in my best red-carpet pose, looking as coy as I possibly can.
His burning eyes can’t stop gawking at every inch of my body. I see his muscular chest expand as he inhales and holds it for a moment.
Batting my lashes I say, “If you’ll excuse me Michael, I need to slip into something more... comfortable.”
“I want to see what you have under this first Miranda.” He smirks his crooked smile and waves his hand up and down in the air towards me, obviously not wanting me to leave his sight just yet.
“Very well Michael… Sit.” I point to the chair that’s pushed up at the side desk.
Its wooden armrests on either side are perfect for what I have in store for him later on. Slowly, I unbutton my blouse, keeping watch of Michael’s wide eyes that refuse to leave my body. His breathing is becoming more like a pant with every button that I pop open. I slowly slide my blouse off my shoulders. The material rubs against my nipples as I do so, causing them to push through the lace of my bra. I see his chest expand once again as he notices my overactive nipples. I unzip the back of my skirt and slide it down my thighs, exposing my
“Please call me Michael Miranda.”
He’s now sta nding a little too close to me and grabs around the side of my waist. I move toward the hotel phone, releasing his attempt at an embrace. He looks slightly incensed, but relieved once I pick up the hotel phone receiver.
“May I?”
“Oh I knew there was something else you did last time… of course.” He tips his head to the side as he sizes me up.
I turn to try and ignore his eager ogling and speak to room service on the other end of the line.
“Yes. A bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, a bowl of strawberries and cream, and half a dozen oysters to room 2207 please.” I request, totally in control of what’s about to transpire for my stuntman.
When I turn back he’s standing right up against me again. I can smell the slight odour of hard liquor on his breath. Boy this guy is keen.
“Did Miss Stephanie get my test results?”
“I’m here aren’t I?” I softly breathe inches from his mouth as he pushes up against me.
Every client is screened with health checks before they’re allowed to book any of the girls. Miss Stephanie then repeats the same checks every four months. The rules are much stricter for the girls who work there, with checks due every month. No test, no work... her rules.
“So what have you got planned for me tonight Miranda?” He asks in a low voice.
He brushes the back of his index finger across my right nipple, triggering it to stand to attention through my thin layers. It sends a sensation down to my toes and creeps back up to my groin, and it feels good.
“Well Michael, seeing as you have only booked me for two hours, I’ll have to put my original ideas on ice until another time.” My lips faintly touch Michael’s and I hear his breathing change in rhythm.
“Call Miss Stephanie. I want you all night Miranda. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the last time we… I haven’t been with anyone else since I was with you. Here. Feel.”
He grabs my hand and pushes it down onto his bulging erection that’s pushing hard against his underpants. I cup his tight package i n my hand and tug down slightly.
“ Ah … Miranda, you have no idea what you do to me.”
“Well let me call Miss Stephanie and you will have all night to show me what I do to you.” I sneer, thinking that Michael is yet another mere male powerless to the force of my sexual prowess.
It’s just too easy to make money in this game.
After organising the extension details on the booking, I turn my attention back to my poor horny stuntman. He’s now setting out the delivery of oysters, strawberries and champagne on the ledge of the window-hugging bathtub.
“So Michael, we have all night now.” I stand with my hands on my hips, toe slightly pointed out in my best red-carpet pose, looking as coy as I possibly can.
His burning eyes can’t stop gawking at every inch of my body. I see his muscular chest expand as he inhales and holds it for a moment.
Batting my lashes I say, “If you’ll excuse me Michael, I need to slip into something more... comfortable.”
“I want to see what you have under this first Miranda.” He smirks his crooked smile and waves his hand up and down in the air towards me, obviously not wanting me to leave his sight just yet.
“Very well Michael… Sit.” I point to the chair that’s pushed up at the side desk.
Its wooden armrests on either side are perfect for what I have in store for him later on. Slowly, I unbutton my blouse, keeping watch of Michael’s wide eyes that refuse to leave my body. His breathing is becoming more like a pant with every button that I pop open. I slowly slide my blouse off my shoulders. The material rubs against my nipples as I do so, causing them to push through the lace of my bra. I see his chest expand once again as he notices my overactive nipples. I unzip the back of my skirt and slide it down my thighs, exposing my
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