"The universe is made of stories, not atoms."
- Muriel Rukeyser
You again? Excellent! We have hit the 10 day mark. How are those creative muscles doing? Getting strong or getting sore? Either way, great work! Let's keep truckin'...
If you are new here, hi! Welcome! We're just doing a wee writing "challenge". Care to join us? Click here to learn more.
Today's Prompt:
Scenes from a posh hotel lobby. Write descriptions of everyone staying at the hotel.
Regina's 15 minute creative writing:
There are days I hate my job, but this isn't one of them. Somedays, I am so bored I could scream, my face so frozen in a smile that my jaw aches and it's hard to swallow. Somedays are so monotonous, Groundhog Day seems like an adventure movie filled with twists and turns.
I need more pillows.
There were no mints left on our pillows during turn down service.
My dog needs to piss.
Fuuuuuuuuck. Be polite, yes sir, no ma’am, I’ll take care of that immediately! A winding series of first world problems so mundane it would bore a 4 year-old playing hotel
But today was not one of those days. Today, I was enthralled.
Glancing across the polished hardwood floor, I watched the newest Mrs. Maximillion Riche tug her dog Trudy, a Chihuahua who shook so hard you thought she’d swallowed a vibrator, and bit anything that came close enough – save Mrs. Riche. The dog resisted as only little, anxious dogs could, bracing her legs against the slick polish of the floor and locking eyes with her reflection in the sliding doors of the elevator. Mrs. Riche dragged the damned thing forward by her Diamonte collar whispering, “Here Trudy. Come here Trudy,” at the top of her impressive voice. But the dog would not come, and I knew something Mrs. Riche didn’t - Mr. Riche was filing for divorce.
Seemed he had tired of his latest wife – the fifth Mrs. Riche after a mere 5 months of marriage. He’d had me fax his lawyer requesting the paperwork and had rented a second room in the hotel – the balls on this guy – for his new mistress, and apparently “the love of his life!” He had finally found his soulmate in the most unexpected of places – the strip club at the edge of town, a rather suspect joint called Meat Flaps, in the 5’6, 38, 24, 44 smoke show called Heaven.
I happened to know her real name was Betty Gloop, a nerd from the wrong side of the track who learned too early that her tits and that ass made far more money than any BA in Physics in a town like Middleton. We’d been in Homeroom together, but it had taken me three chance encounters – two clandestine mid-week visits, and the most recent check in – for her subtle eye widening recognition to trigger the connection.
She’d looked different in high school – a bean pole with Coke bottle glasses and a bowl cut, than the curvaceous cutie with impossibly red lips, and sleek black hair that curled softly at her waist. She’d winked at me and pressed one blood red tipped finger to her lips in a Shhh motion, and I’d tried hard not to trip on my tongue.
I blinked and looked again at the current Mrs. Riche. Heaven and Mrs. Riche (I never bothered to learn her first name) could not have been more different. Mrs. Riche was WASP through and through, boney, angular, icy blond, and posh – every outfit immaculate, every hair perfectly twisted in place, in a French twist that drew attention to her high cheekbones, and the tilt of her nose.
Where Heaven looked like sex poured into a human suit, Mrs. Riche looked like she permanently had a bad smell under her nose. I expected that Heaven could work a man till he exploded, before emptying his bank account into her lap. Mrs. Riche on the other hand looked like she would feel like fucking a narrow sack of hammers.
Then again, I had overheard Mr. and Mrs. Riche getting it on more than once – generally after a complaint or three from people sharing their floor, and it had always sounded like they were both getting what they wanted out of the experience.
I’d also been called in – a personal favour to some of our most lucrative guests – to repair a bed that Mr. and Mrs. Riche had broken, finding a pair of hand cuffs trapped behind one bed post, a scarf tied in a double knot to another, and Mrs. Riche’s bathrobe falling lose as she moved to tip me, exposing thigh high leather boots and a waist cincher of leather dark and rigid below twin black tassels swinging from her nipples.
I had been in this business long enough not to glance down, not to ‘notice’ anything as she snatched the edges of the robe closed with a snap and a huff, but then, I had excellent peripheral vision.
***
Time’s up! What did you write? Share in the comments, or send me an email. Let’s try again tomorrow! Here’s to the writing challenge!!
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See you tomorrow!
With Love,
Snow White and the Wicked Curse: Chapter 1
Snow White and the Vicious Curse: Chapter 2
Snow White and the Seven Thieves: Chapter 3
The final chapter, Snow White and the Poisoned Apple.
Prefer to read the whole story at once? Grab your copy of Snow: The Complete Erotic Series now! All five books available now in ebook and paperback.
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With Love,
Check out her books:
Snow White and the Wicked Queen: Chapter 1
Snow White and the Vicious Curse: Chapter 2
Snow White and the Seven Thieves: Chapter 3
Snow White and the Poisoned Apple: The Final Chapter
Prefer to read the whole story at once? Grab your copy of Snow: The Complete Erotic Series now! All five books are available now as ebooks and paperbacks. Coming soon in Large Print format!
2nd edition coming 2025!
