Marinella strode into the hotel room with a theatrical flourish, halted at the window and
turned back to face into the room, her weight on one leg and sighing heavily to express
her displeasure.
	“A hovel,” she spat in irritation. “Can’t you do better than this for me, Raymond?”
	“It is one of our finest suites, Madam,” the bell boy offered as he accepted the tip
from Ray.
	She stiffened, her face like thunder.
	“Well it isn’t good enough for me!” she stated haughtily and faced back out of the
window. “Tell the manager to find us a more suitable suite. No, demand it of him and
quickly too.”
	The door closed and they were alone, Ray moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around
her waist, his face close to her left ear and nibbling at her neck. His erection pressed
into the cleft of her buttocks through their clothing and he gave a low groan of deep need
for her.
	“Marinella, my sweet. My beautiful young…”
	She broke away, pulling his arms off her to break his hold and flounced to the centre of
the room to stand defensively with her arms folded across her chest.
	“I am used to better things,” she threatened. “I live well and like living well and
this, Raymond - is not living well.”
	He stood gazing longingly at the tall and slender blonde, taking in her wonderful slim
shape and her stunning good looks. Her legs were long, seemingly endless, shaped and
sculpted to perfection by the high-heeled shoes and emphasised by the teasingly short
pleated skirt she wore. Her upper thighs tapered so beautifully up to the short hem that
clung back against her to clearly show their great shape beneath the thin material. Her
narrow waist and the thrust of her breasts against the starched white blouse added to her
sensual look and the way her long hair tumbled down onto her shoulders made her a
cock-jerking fantasy come true. He watched, not listening, as her full and red-painted
lips moved as she spoke, opening and closing, pouting and shimmering in an erotic display
of mimicked oral sex. Like a pussy laid sideways her lips, puffy and full simply invited a
cock to slip in between them.  He recalled the feel of those sensual full lips around his
cockhead, the delights that her warm and soft mouth produced for him and felt his ball-sac
firm as his cock jerked within his trousers. He gave a low groan and wished upon wish that
she had allowed him to come in her mouth. Her fingers were long and slim, painted red
nails glowed brightly in stark contrast to her tanned skin and the white of her blouse,
she looked angelic and yet so sultry, so very attractive and completely and utterly
fuckable.
	“Marinella, Please…”
	“Don’t try to talk me around, Robert,” she snapped back icily. “I am approaching the top
of my profession, I command respect and all that goes with such social standing – suitable
hotel rooms included.”
	He bit his tongue and smiled inanely, sheepishly even as he tried to think of a way to
appease the stuck-up slut or he wouldn’t today get inside her lovely little panties. Okay
she was successful but not by ability, any company would pay her well just to be a member
of their staff, simply by her looks and client-pulling power she was an asset. Intelligent
she was but that was lost in her haughty and demanding manner and her over-inflated ego,
she thought too much of herself to worry about mundane things such as financial dealings
or actually working for a living. Marinella was a bitch, an utter and self-loving bitch
that was tolerated simply because of her stunning looks and body and for no other reason.
	He moved in closer, hesitantly, knowing well the lash of her tongue when such moods were
being displayed.
	“But I love you,” he said as sincerely as he could. “That we are together is enough, a
bed is a bed and when we are making love what the hell difference does a room make…”
	She huffed impatiently and strode to the door, turned and paused with her hand on the
knob, looking back over her shoulder.
	“It makes a difference to me!” she shouted angrily.
	Ray dropped to his knees in desperation, his hands clasped together in front of him in
pleading and a little-boy-lost look on his face, his voice weak and imploring.
	“Please, Marinella. Please, just stay and be with me today. Let me hold you, touch you,
caress you, kiss you. To stroke your lovely body and to…”
	She burst out laughing and faced into the room, her hand leaving the door knob.
	“Beg me some more,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Say things to me and I might -
just might - stay and let you have me.”
	She moved in close, so that her pussy mound was level with his sweating face, arrogantly
and confidently she towered over him, offering her body so close to him.
	“I love you, want you,” he croaked, his gaze fixed on the bulge of her mound as the thin
skirt clung back against it. He could smell her, the heady scent of her perfume and, more
excitingly, the faint musky aroma of her sex permeating up to tease at his nostrils. Then
his voice dropped to a pathetic whining of deep desire. “I need you to command me and to
control me, Marinella - mistress Marinella.”
	She chuckled and placed her hands on her hips, her back arched and her chest pushed out
to emphasise her bust.
	“All men want me, you silly boy. They drool and long for me, their tongues hang out like
panting dogs when just looking at me. They lust and long for me, I am an object of desire
to all men. I can have any man I wish, Robert. So why should I stay with a wimp like you?
What will you give me this time?”
	“Another  bracelet?”
	She sighed again. “Boring, I have many.”
	“A new outfit?”
	“I have lots of clothes.”
	“An expensive new wardrobe – complete with accessories?”
	She hesitated, pondering his offer and then said firmly.
	“From Monte Carlo.”
	“What?” he gasped. Her tastes were expensive enough he already knew to his cost but
this?
	She moved in and pressed her pussy mound to his face, the shimmering material of her
little skirt caressing his cheeks and the warmth of her groin radiating through to him.
Her fingers stroked though his hair, pulling cruelly as she gripped his locks and twisted
his hair spitefully.
	“A weekend in Monte Carlo – and at the best hotel, to allow me to choose my new clothes
with care and in style.”
	“But… But, my wife… the money…”
	Forget the aging bitch Estelle and her money, she has enough for all. Now, do I get my
weekend in Monte Carlo and my new wardrobe or…” her voice dropped to a low and throaty
huskiness, “does little Raymond go without his goodies?”
	He drank in the scent of her and the feel of her warm mound against his forehead. Ray
groaned longingly into the pleats of her skirt and then croaked his agreement.
	“Good boy,” she praised and released the grip on his hair. Marinella flinched as his
hands stroked lightly and hesitantly up the sides of her long legs and inched beneath the
hem of her skirt. “Straight sex and none of that… That, disgusting kissing or licking that
you always crave of me.”
	“Oh but, Marinella,” he protested.
	She pressed her mound harder against his face and simpered as his hands moved up under
her skirt to grip and to cover her taut buttocks. “Perhaps when we return from Monte Carlo
and when you have brought me some other nice things, I might let you kiss it then.”
	“Bitch,” he muttered excitedly and stroked at the wispy covering of silk panties
stretched harshly across her backside. “You wonderful, sexy bitch.”
	Her head threw back and she laughed aloud. “Aren’t I just.”
	Her tone then hardened, her expression set and severe, dropping into the role that he
loved and needed so much of her.
	“Now, you snivelling little shit, kiss Mistress Marinella’s feet.”
	He bowed forward, muttering his appreciation and kissed each of her shoes in turn,
marking their ceremonial start point for the change in their roles. He stood, his hands
trembling with excitement and a little fear, awed in the presence of his mistress, the
beautiful and goddess-like Marinella. His fingers fumbled to undo his shirt buttons and
his face flushed, not in embarrassment but in pumping sexual excitement.
	“Give me your belt,” she commanded him and extended her hand as she unclipped and
dropped his trousers.
	“Please mistress,” he wined pathetically. “Don’t hurt me. Your slave adores you and…”
	“Silence!”
	She took the belt and gripped the buckle in her right hand, Marinella stood with her
other hand resting on her hip and sighing impatiently as he finished undressing.
	“Pathetic!” she sneered as she looked down at his cock.