Chapter-96: the hotel manager gives 100 percent discount
He turned, his eyes fluttering open, a look of innocent, loving confusion on his handsome face. He smiled softly at her. "Good morning, my beautiful wife," he whispered, his voice husky with sleep.
He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. Then, his smile turned mischievous. He kissed his way down her neck, over the swell of her melons, and further down her stomach. Mohini's breath caught as he settled between her legs.
He nuzzled her mound and then placed a soft, adoring kiss directly on her thoroughly used, sticky white milk with seeds filled lower mouth. "A morning kiss for my queen," he murmured against her sensitive flesh, his breath warm.
The morning sun sliced through the gap in the curtains, illuminating motes of dust dancing above the rumpled wedding bed. Martin stirred, his head throbbing with a fictional hangover. He feigned a groan, rolling over to press a soft, loving kiss to Mohini's bare shoulder.
She hummed in her pretended sleep, a sound he mimicked perfectly, both actors playing their parts to an empty theater. He slipped from the bed and his movements sluggish and exaggerated for the remaining cameras that are left behind under the orders of Mohini.
"Going to wash up, my love," he murmured and his voice gravelly.
"So much to do today… Settle the bill, deal with the… paperwork." Mohini cracked an eye open, watching his naked form disappear into the en-suite bathroom. Perfect. The water began to run, a steady hiss that masked the soft. After the cleanup he left to work.
He left some money for Mohini to pay bills but Mohini don't want to use the money. She went to wash up and clean her body carefully before coming to the bed and getting on the bed waiting for her next best person to play, almost silent click of the hotel room door opening.
The manager, a man named Mr. Sterling with a pinched face and a ledger tucked under his arm, entered with a master key. He cleared his throat, his eyes immediately drawn to the bed, to the shape of her body beneath the thin sheet.
"Mrs. Martin? Regarding the final bill for the suite and the services…" Mohini sat up, letting the sheet fall to her waist. Her magnificent melons, heavy and full with pert, dusky pink cherries, were unveiled.
She saw his Adam's apple bob as he tried and failed to keep his gaze professional. "The bill," she repeated and her voice like a lazy, sleep tinged purr. "It's quite a figure, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so, madam. The premium champagne, the late checkout…" She swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up in a single, fluid motion, completely naked. She saw his eyes widen, his knuckles whiten on his ledger.
She closed the distance between them, the scent of her warm skin and clean soap filling the space. "My new husband… he is so forgetful with money. It would be such a shame to trouble him with this so early."
Her fingers, delicate and sure, went to the knot of his tie, loosening it. "Perhaps we can come to a… different arrangement."
"M-Mrs. Martin, I couldn't possibly…"
"Shhh," she breathed, her lips inches from his. "Call me Mohini and you can. I insist." Her hand trailed down his starched shirt, feeling the rigid outline of his belt buckle, then lower, palming the solid bulge already straining against his trousers.
"Mmm... It seems part of you is already in agreement." A choked gasp escaped him. "A discount… a significant one… could be negotiated."
"Negotiated…?" she whispered and her other hand cupping his cheek, guiding his mouth to hers for a searing kiss. His resolve crumbled, the ledger clattering to the floor. Her tongue met his, a bold, damp invasion that left him trembling.
She broke the kiss, her eyes gleaming. "I don't want to negotiate. I want to pay my debt. In full…" She unbuckled his belt with practiced efficiency, the shuck… shuck… of leather and metal loud in the quiet room.
His trousers and boxers pooled at his ankles. His meat rod sprang free, thick and eager. Mohini sank to her knees on the plush carpet, not breaking eye contact.
"Glllk…" was the first damp, guttural sound as she took him deep, her throat opening to accept his length in one smooth, practiced motion. Her head began to bob, a steady, relentless rhythm.
Slurp. Schlick… Glrk... The obscene, damp sounds of her mouth working his meat rod filled the room.
One of her hands fondled his balls, rolling the tight orbs gently, while the other hand squeezed and jiggled her own melon, pinching the cherry hard, presenting her as the perfect visual feast.
"Oh god…oh god…" Mr. Sterling chanted, his hands tangling in her dark hair, his hips stuttering forward. "Your mouth… it's… ah!" She pulled off with a lewd, damp pop, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his glistening tip.
"Tell me about my discount," she demanded and her voice husky. "F-free..! The suite is complimentary!" he blurted out, his chest heaving. "Good boy…" She took him back into her mouth, sucking harder, faster. Splurt…. Gurgle.
Her noises were over the top, erotic, a performance for an audience of one who was falling apart at the seams. She felt him swell, his thighs tightening. She deep throated him one last time, holding him there as he cried out, his body seizing.
A hot, salty Splurtch… flooded the back of her throat, pulse after pulse. She swallowed every drop, the gulp audible, before releasing him with a final, satisfied smack of her lips. He staggered back, pulling up his trousers with shaking hands, his face flushed.
"You… you may vacate the room at your leisure, madam…" he stammered, grabbing his ledger and practically fleeing. Mohini rose, a smirk playing on her lips. She had just turned to head back to the shower when the closet door opened.
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