0 comments/ 3430 views/ 3 favorites Project Marigold: The Waldorf Ch. 01 By: Gorev_Reighl Please vote. I am just starting out and your feedback is important. This is part 1 of a planned erotic thriller. ***** The closets in the rooms of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York aren't the most spacious. Back when the current hotel was built in 1931 the expectations of luxury hotels were vastly different than they are today. Despite many updates and renovations, the size of their standard rooms and certainly closet space has remained constrained. And so, when Mary Gould found herself in need of a hiding space, she discovered that her plus size body could barely sneak into the well adorned but small closet of room 423 that was already filled with one luggage rack, a suitcase, the unpacked contents of said suitcase and an ironing board. But Mary squeezed, squirmed and wriggled her naked body into a huddled mass on the floor in the right corner of the closet and closed the door. Mary was hiding for her life. Less than 90 seconds ago Liu Zhang's heart stopped beating. Liu was the vice minister of foreign affairs for Taiwan and was naked with Mary in room 423 of the Waldorf Astoria when his life left him. Liu's heart did not stop on its' own accord. A projectile traveling about 1400 feet per second first pierced one of the two glass windows in room 423 then found its way into the base of Liu's skull. The small metal ball exited it's unsuspecting target and ended its journey by lodging itself into the mass reproduction of Monet's water lily's that hung on the wall above the faux Louis XIV desk. Mary, who was on her knees at the time, and despite her training and experience, reacted like most people do the first time they witness a violent death - she screamed, felt the blood drain from her head, then did her best to crawl for cover in the closet. Mary was hiding for her shame. Raised in Virginia with a good Catholic upbringing, Mary understood the importance of chastity - or at least sexual discretion. Mary had yet to walk down the aisle with that 'one' person but was also not a virgin. Still, her sexual exploits so far had been limited to men she really cared about and that also cared for her. So it surprised even Mary to find herself in this situation. Liu and Mary had met each other only 123 minutes earlier that evening. Prior to this occasion Mary was last naked with a man 625 days hence. Just before the glass to room 423 and the skull belonging to the human formerly known as Liu Zhang shattered, Liu Zhang's erect member was in Mary's mouth. Within 33 seconds after the shot, Mary was huddled naked behind the closet door. She was a trembling, sweaty mess. Tearless sobs racked her body as she held one hand over her mouth to silence her own unforgiving cries; and as her response for self-preservation came under control - her mind shifted to blame. Why did she decide to be there in room 423? How could she betray her mother, her father, her god? What is the possible penance that can make up for the selfish act of lust she just performed? Mary was hiding for her country. Mary was a spy. Mary had been a spy for 2,356 days before she was forced to release Liu Zhang from the hold of her lips and mouth. And up until then, Mary's spy work consisted almost exclusively of counter cyber terrorism. In other words she was a computer geek. Mary loved her country and its values. Her father was an ex-air force mechanic and had dedicated his professional life to the service of his country. Her mother spent 16 years as an admin for a leading defense contractor. She spent most of her childhood less than 100 miles from the capital of the United States and Mary was in awe of the sparkling white buildings, inspirational democratic values, busy urban life, and even the sometimes corrupt machinations of the world's largest government. And Mary knew - that in this moment - an agent of the largest US intelligence gathering agency could not be found with the lifeless body of Liu Zhang. So Mary took refuge in the cramped and dark closet of room 423 of the Waldorf Astoria and waited for help. 9 Months Earlier The electronics of Herr Meier's laptop were splayed out on her desk. The twisted mess of wires, circuit boards, crunched plastics and hard drives looked like the road kill of some high tech rabbit that didn't quite have the speed it thought it had when it attempted to cross the highway. 'Splat' thought Mary Gould as she began her autopsy of the deceased laptop. "Let's see if we can bring you back to life" she whispered to herself and then set about work. Within 45 minutes Mary had hooked up the hard drive to a desktop she used for such occasions. It was a high powered machine - the fastest available. A quad core multiprocessor with souped up onboard RAM memory powered the beast. An array of hard drives - some traditional and some all solid state provided ample storage. But it was a glutton for power and generated massive heat. So it was also outfitted with state of the art fans and cooling systems that kept her comfortable. It was big - like Mary - but what a beauty. Her employer always provided her with the best. One of the many benefits she received. Not that she needed any. Mary was a believer. Mary had disabled her high powered processor from the network. In the security game you couldn't be too careful. Viruses were sometimes just one file away from releasing their dirty little digital bytes into an unsuspecting node. And if that node was connected enough - if it had a lot of digital friends - poof, the virus could move from node to node faster than an STD through a whorehouse. Most importantly, her beauty stored a wide range of decryption algorithms - processes designed specifically to gain access to computer information that was otherwise protected with passwords or other security procedures. In the contest that pitted algorithm vs. algorithm Mary seldom lost. Part skill, part state of the art resources and part sheer creativity and fearlessness, Mary could make most computers spill their secrets. Within another 32 minutes the deepest passages of Herr Meier's laptop were opened for exploration. She began to log the files so other analysts could dig deeper. Mary wasn't surprised when she opened the folder called "Alte Arbeitsdateien" (Old Work Files) to find it populated with hundreds of porn images. At least 50% of the computers she cracked had some variation of folders attempting to hide in plain sight. "Ok, Herr Meier, let's see what you are into" she thought as she quickly set about creating a slideshow of the pics. Herr Meier's predilections were remarkably consistent. A blonde woman is resting on her knees and elbows. Her ass is high in the air - higher than her head. She is wearing a garter belt, but the stockings bra and any other clothing have long since been torn off. Her pale skin stands out against the dark bedspread like a polar bear in the amazon and she is looking in the direction of the figure in front of her but it seems like she doesn't know he is there. She is lost in sexual pleasure. He is invisible. He is sitting naked in a chair. He is bound to the chair. Her stockings found their way from her legs to his wrists and they restrain him from any action. He is only a few feet from the pale naked figure and he can only watch. His look is full of shame. Her look is full of selfish desire. He looks like a middle aged man that has been beaten. She looks like a warrior about to devour the weak. His thinning head and chest hair is turning prematurely gray and lays oily and flat on his scalp and flat pectoral muscles. Her golden locks flow over her toned shoulders and frame her high cheekbones and ruby red lips. His penis is small, withdrawn and useless. Her breasts and hips are of the abnormal variety - as if her body was designed by some Japanese anime artist. They spread out from her unusually thin waist and scream 'fuck me'. She is - in the picture - the symbol of life-giving mother earth and she needs seed. He stares back at her defeated. Mary feels the sensation. It is rare, but ever since Evan, Mary has grown to understand the look of selfish desire and her biological reaction to it. The warmth starts in her stomach and travels south. She squirms uncomfortably in her chair, pressing inner thigh against inner thigh. Another figure is in the digital photo. His face is cropped out of the picture, but one of his enormous dark cherry colored hands secures the blonde by the waist, apparently guiding the big white hips in some erotic motion. One of her legs is pushed forward. The gap between her ass cheeks is visible and the tip of Cherry Man's thick limb of a cock has parted the opening. He's holding the 9 inch rod at the base with his other hand. It rests just at the entrance. It is dry - but her pink lips are dripping. The blonde's look of rapture is actually in anticipation of the plunge. She knows what is coming. She will be filled with hot hard pleasure. Her womb craves it. It craves to be filled, to be caressed and stroked in wild abandon. It craves to feel the splatter of seed. Deep, wild and wet. "So, what have we got here Mary?" a voice interrupts her research from over the edge of her cubicle. "Um, well Dev" she stammers as she fidgets with the keys on the keyboard, "I was able to crack the decryption and access the hard drive. It wasn't very sophisticated stuff, and there weren't any viruses that I could find. So either he's an idiot or the stuff on here is just mid-level. I categorized the files, anyway. There were some emails and a spreadsheet that mentioned Dubai Crude - I know you were most interested in these." "OK - great" he replied with just a hint of appreciation. "When can linguistics get a hold of them?" "Well, I'd say an hour or two. I still have to finish organizing them and do another sweep for viruses before I put them on the net" she reported. "And there is one other thing Dev" she pauses to collect her thoughts. "Yeah, what else" he coaxes her to continue. "Well you may want to have the psych guys look at his porn stash" she managed to state in a professional manner. "It's pretty extensive, but also very consistent. Almost all of them are of a white guy being cuckolded by his wife - I think Herr Meier wants to be dominated" she offers her insight. "Really" Dev couldn't suppress a slightly immature giggle at the thought. "Let me see" he says as he steps around the edge and leans in over Mary's left shoulder. Mary fumbles with the keys on the keyboard. Her cheeks turn beet red, but Dev can't see the embarrassment he caused because he is behind her, puffing soft moist breaths on the nape of her neck. Mary smells coffee and Old Spice. She pulls up the slide show and advances rather quickly through each image. "Huh" Dev ponders as he lingers over her shoulder examining the images for a bit longer than Mary felt was appropriate. "Well you never know what this is about" He finally drawls as he lifts himself up and moves to a professional distance. "You're right; the psych guys should look at it. We don't really know who he might be identifying with in the picture. He's a white guy so we assume it's the weak white guy. But maybe it's the black dude and he longs for the power and satisfaction that comes from - well - that position. Or maybe it's the blonde bimbo" he said rather insensitively given Mary's own blonde curls "and he wants to get fucked in the ass by some black bull while taunting authority - you just don't know" he paused. Mary hadn't thought of it that way. The sensation tweaked her again as she thought of the black man exercising his power over the wide and pale hips of the bimbo. "Well, maybe they can work something up" Dev continued referring to the agency's psych profile team. "If so, I'm sure we can use it. Everyone has a weakness you know - you just have to find it" Dev proudly offered his profound professional insight. Mary received it with a pleasant smile. "Sometimes it's easier to profile men. I mean, it's almost always about the psychology of sex and we leave these big obvious clues - like porn stashes - just screaming for someone to psycho-analyze." He smiled sheepishly like he revealed a vulnerable secret about himself. "Too bad women aren't into porn, it would make it easier to get inside their heads." Mary gulped a bit, squirmed, but tried to continue her pleasant smile. Dev turned to walk down the hall. "Good work Mary" he offered, waving thumbs up over his head. Then he stopped and returned, leaning in over the cubicle, as if about to reveal some secret. 'Old Spice and Coffee' she thought. Her pulse quickened. "Hey Mary, have you ever considered field work?" His voice lilted like a child asking a friend to come out and play ball. Mary couldn't help but laugh. It was the funniest thing she had heard in a long time. "Never" she finally managed than was embarrassed by her quick emotional reaction. "Shame, I've read your file. I think you might be good at it" then he turned and retreated again. His firm ass reflected his urgent swagger with a back and forth good bye. A high pitched mee mee mee mee jolted Mary as the sweat was puddling in the creases of her skin. She was still in the closet; trying to control her breathing; trying to relax. Lights glowed mysteriously from under the door. And the mee mee mee mee wasn't stopping. It suddenly dawned on her what the high pitch singing was. 'Someone set off the fire alarm' she said to herself. 'Dev - thank god. It should only be a few more minutes. I can make it through. They are coming for me." She said to herself and concentrated on her breathing. In and out. In and out. Her breathing reminded her of the ocean surf as it filled the beach and then retreated. Mary drifted to a happy place. "So, what's your algorithm for determining how many orgasms you need to receive before you fall in love with me?" Evan asked Mary with an intentionally ironic scientific tone while holding out a strawberry to tempt her lips. They were having a late breakfast on a sunny patio on San Marcos Island 659 days prior to her visit to room 423 at the Waldorf. She was glowing from a highly satisfying evening the night before. She was trying to explain to Evan - an artist and bohemian by trade and practice - what she actually did for a living. She had been going on for several minutes about computer algorithms when he interrupted her with the strawberry and the curious question. She can still remember feeling the blood drawn to her face. She swooned. This memory was her happy place; the place she escaped to when she needed to calm down. This was definitely one of those times. And so, sitting in a fetal position naked in a closet, hiding for her life and her country, Mary transported herself to San Marcos. She had been dating Evan for 9 months when she agreed to join him for a long weekend to the Gulf Island - just the two of them. From the moment she walked through the hotel doors, burst open the French screens and let the ocean air swath her in coolness, salt, sand and the faint hint of drying seaweed decomposing on the sun-drenched beach she felt an unusual sense of lightness. She was giddy. She didn't care about code, bugs or system hacks. She stood up on her tiptoes as if the wind was actually lifting her frame like a dirigible off the green all season carpet that protected their balcony floor. She couldn't stop smiling, which felt highly unusual to Mary's analytical, always questioning brain. She stopped searching for answers. She just smiled. While Evan got busy unpacking and setting up the room she just leaned into the breeze. The world around her - even Evan - drifted away into a barely perceptible background. From the room Evan sneaked glimpses of his new girlfriend floating in the sea breeze. He unpacked his clothes, and then caught her shoulder length platinum blonde hair shining like fine silk in the sun. He put away his Dopp kit in the bathroom and then emerged in the room to see her skirt dance around her calves. She was on her tip toes and her pale skin stretched tightly around her well-formed muscle. The sun shone through the fabric enough for him to trace the shadow of her knees and thighs, parted just slightly until they came together to form a large and very female set of hips. Evan moved to the bedside dresser and stored a few items he hoped would be appreciated for later in the evening. He turned expecting to finally break Mary's trance. But he paused admiring the beauty. And now Evan was frozen in place feeling something lift him from the bonds of gravity. She sensed him behind her. She imagined what he was thinking. She didn't care. She wasn't teasing or pandering to his lust with some provocative pose. She certainly wasn't inviting him to join her at the balcony rail. She really just didn't care. She acknowledged she was happy he was with her in San Marcos. She even felt she needed him. But she didn't want to move. She didn't want to stop smiling. She didn't want to remember what she was supposed to think and do. And that was fine by Evan. Because at that moment all Evan cared about was drinking in this real life visual banquet. It required savoring. It was his duty as an artist - as a member of the human race - to see the light - the shadow - the color - the yearning - and the peace. He drank in her curvy legs and buttocks. He saw shades of aqua, teal, sky and midnight intertwined in the 3 inch blue cloth belt that swaddled her waist and helped accentuate her large hips. The white and yellow print blouse then bulged outward in an attempt to constrain her torso and breasts. Her arms and shoulders were barren, pale and smooth. She was a Ruben woman - but with modern impulses. Mary was a plus size curvy Madonna standing transfixed in the window. He was her secret admirer - her secret lover. He would approach with tenderness and patience - almost reverence. Then he would bend her over the metal and glass rail, lift her skirt and take her as her blue eyes, red lips and pale cherub cheeks combined to scream with pleasure into the surf. The phone rang. The two broke their trance. "Yeah, thanks, we'll be right down" Evan answered with a bit of over compensated casualness. He hung up the receiver. "Hey Mary - our ride to the boat is here. Ready?" "How can I answer that?" she thought. Then turned and grabbed his hand. Mee mee mee mee mee mee the buzzing was incessant. She opened the closet door a crack. The lights in the room were now dim - possibly the buildings automatic response to the fire drill. The darkness would make it easier for her to get out of the room unseen if the shooter was still in position somewhere on the other side of the window. She crawled out of the closet and back to where she had been. Lying abandoned on the floor lay the white heavy cotton hotel robe that she had discarded a few minutes before. It had a partner. One arm of Liu's robe had fallen over the top of hers. For a moment it looked as if the robe was consoling its mate. Its soft comforting arm embraced the shoulder of the other robe. 'It's OK' it seemed to be saying. 'It wasn't your fault. Nothing can hurt me know.' She grabbed at the robe. It was stuck. She pulled hard. Liu' Zhang's shoulder - the object restraining the robe - fell from the shadows. "Fuck" she whispered aloud. "Fuck, fuck fuck." The robe gave way. She was just moments from the hall, then the lobby, then Dev and the team in the Van. In under a minute she could be safe. But then the thought occurred to her. She didn't want to do it - but she knew she had to. She crawled up to the body. Her body was at a 90 degree angle to the Taiwanese man. With one hand she clutched the robe. With the other she searched for his arm, then his wrist, then his pulse. Nothing. She confirmed he was dead. Mary took a breath. She didn't really know this man. She didn't know if he was good or bad. He was never described as an enemy of the US - just that he had secrets. And in the short 123 minutes of their relationship, Mary had quickly formed an opinion of a wise and joyful father figure. She even felt some sexual attraction. Project Marigold: The Waldorf Ch. 01 Liu was definitely into Mary. She knew this 17 days earlier when she easily cracked his cloud based porn stash. "Amateur" she thought at the time. It was filled with images of large women. Ethnicity, hair color, location didn't' seem to matter to Liu. 'Curvy' was the politically correct term. Mary had heard many other less flattering terms to describe the body type through the years. The files were random and tame from Mary's point of view. There were few pictures of actual intercourse. Most were of fleshy pink or brown women posing for the camera - posing for Liu. They would stand totally naked, their large breasts spilling down toward the floor. Large and dark aureoles surrounded long and even darker nipples. Sometimes a hand would cup one of the milk filled glands and lift them up to her own mouth, as if trying to feed herself with the warm and sweet syrup. The torsos narrowed slightly below the rib cage, only to begin their gradual expansion. Layers of skin and fat surrounded the waist at the belly button, spreading out slightly toward the earth. Most had enough elasticity left in the skin to give the impression of toned muscle - female sumo's that were tough and strong. A few had midsections where time had defeated the collagen and the rolls looked like gourmet cheese. Their waists melded into massive hips. 'A man could get lost in those hips' Mary thought. They were wide but oddly inviting. Their sexes were always adorned with soft silky well-trimmed hair. Some women held one hand on top of one of their monster buttocks and tilted the hip outward, as if these beautiful masses of muscle fat and skin needed to be accentuated. They all smiled back at Liu - back at Mary. They all looked confident. They all looked real. They all looked like they enjoyed sex - not just trying to make a man believe in their ecstasy. Mary believed that when these women orgasmed, the world moved. So when it came time for someone to meet Liu in an attempt to get closer to him and to gain access to the 'real' digital secrets the agency was most interested in, Mary was considered the natural agent. It would be her first in the field. Dev recommended her for field work several months back and she was surprised at how quickly she had agreed and she jumped into training. Her break up with Evan, but also growing confidence in her own person, made Mary a more than willing volunteer. Plus she knew the truth about most field work - it was not like the movies. It was eventful but not dangerous. And it got her out from behind the desk. Her first field task was relatively simple. It was believed that Mr. Zhang was negotiating an oil deal with Iran against the wishes of the US. If so, some evidence of these negotiations might be kept on his personal computing device - a tablet he carried with him on most occasions and that had been specially designed by one of the leading Taiwanese computer firms. Mary was to identify as many details of the device as possible in the hopes they could discover some vulnerability. They would use the details of the device to later hack their way in. Alternatively, and only if possible with complete discretion, Mary was to secure the device and bring it back to the agency. "Mr. Zhang" Mary touched the back shoulder of the Vice-Minister. He turned. Zhang stood 6 feet tall and looked down at the 5' 4" Mary. He smiled a big broad warm smile. Mary couldn't tell if there was a hint of appreciation or even lust in the wrinkles that radiated from the side of each grinning eye. "I'm Shannon Reilly with IT Defense Ireland" she proceeded with no attempt at an Irish brogue. Her one hand slid down his arm as he turned while her other hand reached out for a business like shake. Zhang took her hand, and then bent down and caressed her cheek with his clean-shaven face for a European style greeting. Mary smelled minty after shave. Zhang would have picked up the scent of Green Irish Tweed perfume. "Ah good to meet you Ms. Reilly" Zhang enthusiastically responded in perfect English as he pulled back but held her hand in his with a firm and friendly grasp. He was dressed in a dark blue Zegna suit with a silk tie. He proudly sported graying temples against otherwise jet black hair. She had interrupted him as he stood listening to other delegates wax on about recent developments in technology based outsourcing. The reception at the Waldorf was the kickoff cocktail party for the two and half day event that was intended to be an annual catalyst for countries interested in exporting their technology based labor skills. Mary / Shannon of course could sniff out technology posers from a mile away - and this was no exception. These were the 'suits' not the coders and she did her best to hide her scorn. "I thought I recognized you walk in earlier" Shannon responded. "I know we are scheduled to chat tomorrow at 9, but I thought I'd introduce myself here at the party." "I'm so glad you did" Zhang said and Shannon blushed. "When my office explained that I was to meet with a computer security expert I have to say I was not expecting a woman of such beauty." Zhang lied. He had been provided a full background check 3 days earlier. The meeting was an important one for the Taiwanese government. Technology dominates their economy - both directly and indirectly. They are home to many important technology outsourcers and each of them requires being up to date in security and encryption. Plus, the Taiwanese government itself is always under cyber surveillance and even attack. Their enemies like China and even their friends like the US are unapologetic snoops. IT Defense, based in Ireland, is known worldwide for its advanced techniques to combat such efforts. But if there was any doubt as to whether Liu would accept the meeting, it faded when his assistant provided Shannon's picture and security background. Outwardly he responded in stoic reflection. Inwardly he felt familiar sensations. He accepted the 9am meeting. "Did you enjoy tonight's keynote?" Zhang asked Shannon. "Honestly I found it a bit presumptuous." She replied. "The US likes to demonize fringe elements and portray non-US efforts at cyber terrorism as large almost factory like organizations." She continued. "But they aren't. The most successful threats are driven by a small handful of really, really smart people. IQ's off the charts. They may be supported by a small group of slightly less intelligent techs - but it is far from an army." Zhang sensed Shannon was not a fan of the US. He smiled. She continued with her informed assessment of the situation. "Tell me Shannon" Zhang finally interrupted. "Why did you get into this business? What made you decide to become a computer programmer? It seems awfully - um - isolated for a person such as yourself." "Well" Shannon started, preparing to spew her pat answer as if she had rehearsed it for a job interview. "And please don't tell me about the value of security, that it's important for Ireland, and the citizens of the world, that you enjoy solving puzzles." Zhang chided as if reading her mind. "Tell me, what were the feelings you had the first time you realized this was to be your life's passion." Mary stopped. She flashed to Evan and his odd almost unanswerable questions. She let the silence hang between them for several moments, smiling into his fatherly eyes. He didn't speak. He wasn't letting her off the hook. She told herself to keep it simple and true - one less lie you have to remember. "I feel powerful when I'm invisible" she finally replied with a determined tone. He just smiled back. His eyes opened and closed as if he had already known the answer. "I discovered I am good in the background. I actually reveal the best of myself when I am hacking through systems that aren't even seen. But 99% of the time these revelations are only for me to see. No one else. I'm not judged. I don't have the pressure of feeling I have to perform. And any disappointment I feel is only mine. And frankly it's not even disappointment. It becomes just another challenge I can silently attack until - well until its conquered. You can't really do that with people. Any interaction -no matter how well intended and loving - comes with some judgment in the real world with real people. When I'm invisible I am never judged. And sometimes, I even get to be the judge." She smiled back at him. She wasn't sure where that had come from and felt flush in the cheeks. "Hmm. I see." Zhang chuckled. "I'm more of a superman myself" he continued with an attempt to lighten up the mood. "Flying, saving - sometimes destroying - is so much more heroic. But I definitely appreciate the power of invisibility." He looked at her provocatively. "I have found that when superman and the invisible woman get together, interesting things can happen" he reached out his hand to hers. "You see invisible people seek selfish pleasure. They don't feel they need people around them. But they are wrong. They need resistance; both mental and physical. They need an opposing force. And what can offer up more force than the man of steel" he laughed and locked his eyes on hers. He saw through her. They paused and stared at each other. "What was he saying" Shannon thought. She had never been in this position before. She let the pause linger. Zhang leaned in. "Ms. Reilly, I think you are very good at finding out secrets. I wouldn't be surprised if you found out one or two about me." She blinked in surprise. "If so, all the better. Because then you know that when I say you are a beautiful woman it is not out of courtesy. You know that I desire you. I yearn and lust for you. And I know that what you need is an opposing force to - um - wrestle with" another long pause. "You will only feel my presence in the manner that brings you pleasure - certainly no judgment. And I will enjoy the selfish expressions of a most beautiful but invisible woman." He broke the hand hold and sat back. Shannon was panting. The sensation was now flooding her senses. "It has been so long" she thought. Blood was flowing in unusual directions. Her legs felt weak. Her cheeks were flushed. Her head spun. Her fingers tingled. Her groin pulsed. She pressed her legs together and squirmed. "Why don't we retire to my room" Zhang held out his hand. "If you need to give yourself an excuse, it's because I want to check the meeting place and agenda for tomorrow's meeting on my tablet." 'Well that's convenient' Shannon thought to herself then she took his hand. Liu held out a white cotton hotel robe. Shannon took it cautiously. "Why don't you get comfortable in the bathroom? I thought you might like to wear this." Then he pointed to the bed where a matching robe was spread out, arms flailing on the quilt. "As you can see I'll do the same. Then we can enjoy some champagne and the starry night together." Shannon thought it was a good idea. She glanced over her shoulder on the way to the tile and chrome in-room spa and saw Zhang begin to undo his tie. Once in the bathroom she quickly dug out her phone and tapped out a message to Dev. "In room 423. Seeking device. Update soon." She put the phone back in her clutch and took a deep breath then undressed. She lingered as she removed her panties. Her sex was noticeably swollen. Even the slight touch of her hands caressing her skin as she undressed created goose bumps. Her hands skimmed the sides of her breasts as she removed the shear front clasping bra. She looked at herself in the mirror. "Would he like what he saw?" she asked herself. She struck a pose similar to the ones in his porn stash. Then she stopped leaned forward and started to hyper ventilate. It took several breaths to gain control. She closed her eyes but still saw white lights. She needed to calm down. She smelled the ocean and sea salt. She felt herself leaning into the breeze. The spa faded into the background and she was in San Marcos. "God damn, he's right" she thought with a laugh. She stopped thinking about Liu. She stopped wondering about his acceptance of her; wondering if she was his type or if she was beautiful enough. Instead she began to wonder if he would be good enough for her. Would he be the quiet man of steel that he promised? He had the burden of proof. She opened her eyes again and looked in the mirror with a more determined look. She took her hands and gently caressed herself. She rubbed her neck and shoulders. Tension began to fade. Her head fell lazily to the side, but she still observed herself in the reflection. Her hands slid down her chest and breast plate. Her palms circled the outside of her breasts, avoiding the hard nipples. The hands continued their journey down her taut abdomen. They found her sex and lingered with soft gentle caresses before venturing to the sides to sooth her hips and to reach behind and caress her ass cheeks. She repeated the massage, but this time she closed her eyes. She was back on that island. She began to feel the selfish desire and longing. Her knees grew weak and she knew she was ready. She slipped on the robe; she didn't feel like fastening the front. She walked out to greet Liu. Liu had arranged two chairs by the window farthest from the bed. He was sitting in one of the French Renaissance knock offs, casually sipping champagne, legs crossed as if he were enjoying just another Sunday brunch. Shannon wondered how often he had done this. He stood when she walked in. Silently he handed her a glass and offered her the other chair. The window was open and the cool breeze landed on Shannon's face. It was cold but pleasing. The New York night was in full swing and the noise from the street was loud and distinct. She closed her eyes but she didn't long for San Marcos. Instead she was beginning to create a new memory. She hoped it would just as pleasing. They stayed that way for minutes, sitting quietly listening to New York. She sensed him approach her from behind. He gently reached to take her champagne flute. He sat it down, then, kneeling behind her as she sat in the chair, began to hum a song. Shannon didn't recognize it - perhaps a traditional Taiwanese love song or lullaby she thought. His hands fell on her shoulder. One hand made its way to the back of her head. He ran his fingers through her Marilyn Monroe hair, caressing the crown of her head. With eyes closed, she gently rolled her head with his caress. The other hand reached forward. It found her skin under the loose fitting robe. For a few moments it ran across her chest just below her neck. Then it slipped further under the cotton covers. It found her breast and it felt the hard nipples betraying Shannon's excitement. Shannon let out a gentle whisper of a moan and smiled. Soft caress after soft caress warmed her bosom. He gently played with her nipple with his fingers. More blood flowed to them - and to her loins. Now with both hands he slid the robe off of her shoulders and she sat in the chair, nearly completely naked. She felt invisible appendages from behind the wooden and lace chair hungrily consume her breasts, her abdomen her thighs. She suddenly realized she needed a bit more resistance. She stood up and walked to the bed. The two white cotton capes followed them briefly before landing on the floor, holding each other like lovers. She turned at the foot of the bed to face Liu. For the first time he saw the man naked and vulnerable in front of her. The years had been friendly with Zhang. He still displayed a well-toned if not slightly graying torso. There was enough muscle definition that if she squinted he might look like the man from Krypton. A hairy chest led to an almost hairless abdomen and then lower his fully erect cock stood at her attention. She giggled. "I see you weren't lying about being the man of steel" they smiled at each other. He took the one step forward needed to close the gap between their naked bodies and they embraced. They kissed long and passionately. Inside she felt her feelings surge. Her tongue darted deeply into his mouth. She withdrew her tongue and was pleased to feel his tongue keep up the chase. His tongue explored and filled her mouth. Juices flowed. Mouth-watering saliva seeped from glands. She took a quick moment to swallow, then resumed and invited his tongue into her mouth again. She pressed her breasts and her hips into his. She almost straddled his leg to feel him rub up against her crotch. Resistance she thought. She wanted him inside of her. First she wanted to taste him. She broke the kiss and glanced up. His gentle smile told invisible girl to do whatever she wanted. She laid her head against his chest and felt the beat of a strong pulse. She lowered herself, kissing and nibbling on the way down. If this pleased him, she was happy. But she was doing this for herself. She wanted to feel the passion of the man pulsing in her mouth. She reached the steel rod and rubbed it against her lips and cheek. She reveled in its hardness but also its soft hot skin. She licked at the underside and felt the steel shiver as if vibrating and this reflexively sent one of her hands down to her own sex. She took the tip of the shaft into her mouth. It twitched. She twitched. She stuffed it in an inch more and felt herself moan. She withdrew and licked the underside some more. She stuffed it in again, just a bit further. She could feel blood surge into the steel girder and it swelled some more; larger and more powerful to offer more resistance. She withdrew and licked the underside yet again. She tasted the salty early pre cum aperitif and imagined the taste and smell of her own sex. One more time she plunged the cock into her mouth. Then her world changed. Five minutes later. Lying there in the dark, next to a man she had met just two hours earlier, she wept. She rested her hands on his naked back, bowed her head to make contact with her hands, and she prayed for his soul. She prayed for her soul. Then she put her arms and body inside the soft white cotton cloak that was waiting patiently at her side, headed for the door and she made herself invisible.