The Call Girl – part 1

Here is part one, let me know what you guys think please!

There was a knock at the door. Three raps.  Kevin sat up on the bed and looked over at the door.  He lay on the queen size bed on top of the sheets.  They remained perfectly folded and tucked, exactly the way they were when Kevin opened the door to room 117 and walked in.  He had checked in at the front desk at 9, after a late lonely dinner in the bar down the street.  He had a small backpack that he dropped on the floor when he stepped into the room after walking down the hall and making two turns, a left followed by a right. 

He left his bag around the corner of the entranceway of the room.  The door opened into a small hallway, a closet on the right and the bathroom on the left.  After seven feet or so, the little doorway opened into the main rectangular room.  A bed sat on the right with a night table beside it.  A dresser sat across from the bed on the other side of the room.  On top, sat a television, the remote sitting on the corner of the bedside table.  The far wall had a floor to ceiling window.  It could’ve been a sliding door at some point in the design or construction of the hotel, but the final decision was a window.  The curtains were bunched on either side and the view looked out onto a small open field, few trees sparsely distributed around. 

Kevin walked over to the window, looked out across the field and reached his arms to each side and with a quick swoosh, closed the curtains.  He turned back to the room, walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.  He thought about the night ahead of him, his partner for the evening, and then scooted up the bed, rested his head on the pillow and waited for the triple knock to signal her arrival.

Upon the knock, Kevin bolted up and sat on the edge of the bed.  He slid out quickly, and dashed to his backpack.  He unzipped it, reached in and pulled out the can of body spray.  He gave a quick spritz to his upper body and a small spray below the belt.  Then he went to the front door and opened it. 

She stood there waiting.  Red six inch heels, her toes peeking out the tip, painted red to match.  She stood with her weight on her back foot, front foot pushed out at full stretch.  One arm bent so her hand rested on her hip, three fingers and thumb holding her black sequined clutch.  Her other arm stretched across the doorway, reaching towards the top corner of the frame.  Her bracelet slid halfway down her forearm and shimmered in the dull hallway lighting.  Her dress hugged her body as though it was part of her, a second skin, a rich red that matched her shoes.  It started well above any standard dress, closer to the waist than the knee.  How it stayed down when she walked was an explanation not found in science.  The dress snuggly held onto her narrow hips, keeping her figure slim and slender.  Her midriff tucked in and then widened at her breast, where the deep neckline showed off her full and plush bosom.  Her breasts were full and rising softly with each breath, pushing against the seams of the dress, threatening the fabric, daring it to rip.  Around her neck was a small golden string, resting on her skin as a collar.  Her face looked forward, dark brown hair falling on her shoulders, straight as arrows, but soft as silk.  Her almond eyes looked out from behind the long lashes that fluttered with every blink, shadow and liner providing a frame for her crystal blue eyes.  Her full lips, lightly coated with a red gloss curled into a sexy seductive smile.  Her chin was softly round and her nose was came to a rounded end.  She was flawless in his eyes, and many others.

“So, you gonna invite me in?”  

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About Christopher Eyles

Aspiring writer, player of video games. I write poetry, fiction and non-fiction including some life-based stories.
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