Fantasy Flight: Book 2
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2015 by Dead Writer

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Continuation of Fantasy Flight where the orignal left off.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   BiSexual   Fiction   Incest   Sister   Daughter   Cousins   First   Masturbation   Slow  

Can this bed be any lumpier if they tried? Damn that was one weird as hell dream. I have no idea how I am not stuck to the sheets. I guess places like this just have super semen sucker sheets, I thought to myself as I tried to find my phone to shut off the annoying alarm. I am going to kill that little smartass in tech support for pushing that damn klaxon alert to my phone as my alarm sound with no way to disable the damn thing or turn it off.

My name is Joe Johnson and I work for a tech firm selling our various software products. Sales hates me because I outsell them three to one. They screwed the boss over with an airtight contract that gives them most of the commission I earned, by myself, to the regional sales team. The only thing I get out of it is a well-funded toy budget to use however I like. Nothing makes my fellow in the pits geeks drool like way ahead of bleeding edge toys they can actually play on instead of just canned marketroid Power Point slides.

I am still figuring out what all that has happened to me since I left to fly up for the presentation today.

Right on queue "the airline" screwed me out of my first class seat, banishing me to some shithole in the back of the plane. There I was joined by a four belter man and two, three-belter women, one of which lost it and had a major panic attack that caused us to divert to get her off the plane. Now this is all par for the Joe Johnson flying adventures.

From there is got fuzzy. It is just not possible that I hooked up with a group of teenage girls that wanted me to knock them up to screw over one of their dads. I am lucky if I can manage to out logic a two bagger, flabby geek chick once every couple months. Sure sometimes fate will give me an early twenties female, trim, big breasted programming nymphomaniac intern candidate looking to fuck me to try to get one of the few slots. We only found a few that passed muster. Once they got into their work their sex drive decreased in direct proportion to their weight gain.

Well I have no time to try to clear anything up right now; I need a shower and get down with my gear so I can get Uber on the way. If I don't I will never get to the sales meeting on time. Hopefully the water here is not too damn cold.

Damn it! Just what I needed today.

Either no water or scalding hot water dripping slowly out of two tiny holes on a clogged shower head. I knew better! There is no excuse for me not having had it soaking overnight in vinegar.

What did they slip in my water at the office? I want more for those long holiday weekends I spend all alone. Oh well, looks like it is wet wipes for me today.

So after cleaning myself up the best I could, shuffling everything down to the lobby, and Uber on the way, I found a real surprise. The hotel has a semi-real "breakfast" here! Sure it is all vending machine fare from a warehouse club and ice cream cups of juice, but nothing is expired and the juice is not even room temp yet.

"Man you want to put a bet on that fight," the smelly kid in the dirty wife beater shirt asked from behind the desk as I dropped bits of stale crusty biscuit for the mice and cockroaches to fight over. "I never tried that on day shift."

After Uber had three drivers cancel out the fare, after accepting it and two more called me to say they could not find the hotel; I went ahead to risk hoofing it the five blocks to the customer's office. I must have done something right, even the most desperate of the criminals decided I needed their money more than them. I did have one homeless guy offer me a hit off his bottle saying I looked to need a drink. He made sure I knew where the shelter was so I could get a hot meal and take a nap. He wouldn't even take the twenty I tried to give him.

When you have luck as bad as mine, you just have to accept that groups of thugs are going to rob you no matter what. I accepted that a long time ago. What I can't get over is when they insist I take my stuff back, try to give me a gun and give me advice on where someone looking like me can make a quick buck. Like with the bums I have had a few even offer to give me a little something-something on the house to help me out, I looked like I could really use it.

So after the trek I still got to the building early enough to actually get a cup of overpriced coffee and first pick of the pastries. Most of the people working there are usually still asleep enough that they don't mess with me, much. Today was one of the days where the youngish high school dropouts behind the counter took the bait to give me some good service. I put a twenty on the counter as I told them if they got my order right, and I got a receipt for my credit card, they could have the cash. It rarely works, but today I really needed that little boost to get me in the right mood.

Two hours later I was headed up for the presentation.

Normally our company does not rate company officers on the initial or follow-up sales presentations. They only make time when we are getting down to the final negotiations over lunch at five star restaurants, playing a day of golf or hitting up box seats at a game, if the local team is in town. Today I had the CEO, CTO, and CIO there along with the senior VPs and their tech staff. I saw why they were there once we got to the big auditorium where I was doing the presentation. Someone had gotten in some locally famous catering service that took orders and came to each person's seat with coffee, juice, and individually prepared breakfast. Since I was going to have no chance at all to have anything but water, I expect it was the sales team thumbing their noses at me.

Now I have to say their CTO and CIO looked like moron jocks, but to date they are the first corporate execs to both notice all I setup was my bleeding edge, full HD laser pico projector at the back of the room. Both of them watched on closely as I set it in the base, hooked up the external power, and then hit the power button. Sliding on the special tracking rings, as I walked back to the stage, I saw their eyes widen as I held up my right hand at the right side of the screen and then my left at the left side. The custom code I had written used those two reference points to do a quick infrared scan for projection screen reflections to best calculate the sharpest screen settings. Walking to the provided podium I set down my remote I used for a backup in case the projector could not track the special rings. Seeing that some techies also noticed the CTO's and CIO's interest, I put my hands on the edges of the podium. It was a signal to the software to make a big dog and pony show of going through screen size settings, even though it was ready to go as soon as I had marked the sides of the screen. Mostly I only did this for when I was waiting for someone important to arrive or to delay things a bit so that someone could get a quick refill.

Once it looked like the CEO was in his chosen seat and flanked by the CTO and CIO, I went into the presentation. I watched the three of them very closely through the whole presentation. I realized after ten minutes the CTO and CIO did not give a shit about our software. Both were mesmerized by the projector, and how I managed to do the whole spiel without having to use a remote. I am not sure about the CEO. He was more watching me than anything else. It was a bit creepy, like pervert creepy. When you get to be a CEO of a long standing family run company, you are sure to have your kinks and quirks. As long as he bought my software at 125% of list price, I don't care if he was fantasizing about my ass.

So after the presentation, I got to enjoy watching the CTO and CIO's eyes glaze over as I took my clear cased cloud server up to connect it to the projector for then live run through of the software as I answered their questions. I can't blame them, I saw more than half the techies start to drool as they caught a glimpse of the hidden treasures inside the clear acrylic.

The server was one of the perks of having a cost center where I had complete control. It was funded from the commissions the sales team's contract denied me. My boss funded it to keep me on board after I made my first few big sales. At it is, I have 32 cores on Intel NUC boards, with 128 GB of RAM and just over 7 TB of Kingston V310 980 GB SSD drives. I wanted to build it bigger, but then it would not fit so nicely in the acrylic case a bit bigger than a ream of copy paper.

Turning on the cluster kicked in the automatic Wi-Fi link from the projector to the monitor output of the server. The projection screen flipped from the demo to the post screens for the 8 NUC boards. By the time I was back at the podium, all eight had booted, joined the cloud, and then switched to a single large screen showing the fully maximized, live application. Ok, the data was canned, but the app was fully functional. They did not know it, but it also automatically tethered to my phone to do any feature requests or open a chat back to the home office for questions I could not answer. I chose to wow them with the integrated speech to text interface they could purchase as a bonus feature for faster order entry. It was not part of this product by default and something we purchased from an outside company. I never even hinted at my office that I was the silent partner that owned ninety-five percent of that same third party company and I had written the app in my copious free time.

Hey I had to get back some of those commissions they were not paying me for doing their jobs and the boss knows exactly who owns the LLC he pays license fees to annually.

Now I got to really have fun. This was when those still awake started asking questions about something they needed the app to do. I never lied and gave them vaporware promises. When the app could not do something, I moved my hands to trigger the pop-up parking lot and had them repeat what they wanted have the app do. A geek chick I had hooked up with last year worked on converting most major first and second world speech to text translation algorithms. I loved watching an Indian or Chinese tech ask the question in a heavy accent or in one of their countries native tongues. It not only showed it correctly in that language, but converted correctly to English 95% of the time. I found this was always a sneaky way to distract from a major short coming of any of our products.

By the time we were done, I had no problems convincing the tech staff to join me for a sushi lunch. No matter how high end of a sushi restaurant they had locally, the senior management always seemed to have other matters that prohibited them from wasting time at lunch with the underlings. At least that is one area I always have good luck. Most techies I run into love sushi. There is always a top notch sushi place around and with a cooked menu, hibachi, or buffet attached to it for those that don't eat sushi. Having no limit on how much I can spend, and no one to rat them out for getting some Saki with lunch, means I will have at least one good meal on each trip. The best sushi places can pick out a sales lunch with the biggest group of sushi eaters and I have never had any of my bad luck on sales lunch.

Two hours later when we are back in the office, I have them grab their laptops and spun up copies of the app in a Docker container for each techie that wanted to really evaluate the app. I was surprised when the CEO asked if it was possible to set him up with his own copy to test out.

I was surprised that the CEO here came up with a dozen more suggestions than anyone else. We actually worked well past their normal quitting time submitting the feature requests so we could have pricing for them first thing in the morning. Amazingly he was still at it well after the others had left for the night. Once he was finally done and I was packing things up, he came over to talk to me.

"Joe I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. My given name is Arnold Paul Stephens, but I never liked being called Arnold or Arnie, so just call me Paul," he told me. "I am inundated by sales calls so frequently I rarely have a free moment to do more than take a cursory glance. Unlike my father, I attend at least a few minutes of each presentation to see if they are worthy of my time. If they aren't I just stop it and give everyone back the time so they can continue to do something productive for my company. Getting a lead on where to source those projectors alone was worth my time today. I did my homework on your product and company. I expected this to be another waste of my time, even with the catered gourmet breakfast. This is the only sales presentation I have seen where there was live feedback on desired features and then a hands-on session to put the real product through the paces. So do you think your development team will be able to provide the pricing for the requested enhancements by the end of the month?"

Taking a break from the packing I replied, "Paul, if we had not run so late today, I would have expected them before end of business. As it is, I should have them by the time I return tomorrow, providing you wish to continue to product pricing and negotiations."

"Right to the point Joe, what is the catch," Paul asked.

Smiling I explained all about why I was sent out to sell the product. If they did not want to have me poached off by someone paying higher salaries and commissions, then they had to agree to my terms. One of which was that the development staff and sales teams were all waiting on all live input from the sales call to give me near immediate turnaround times. No one benefitted from long, drawn out negotiations, empty promises, vaporware or loss of excitement caused taking too long to seal the deal.

He was deep in thought as I packed my gear up.

"So where are you staying," he asked.

When I told him I thought he was going to cough up a lung.

Once he settled down I joked about it saying that I was sure it was someone on the sales team that was jealous of how I was able to sell more of our software than them.

"If you pick up the tab for the best steaks you will have while you are here, I will give a friend a call to get you better accommodations," Paul told me.

I told him he had a deal. For some reason I expected him to be a total dick, yet he seemed to be very friendly. We had not talked about price at all, so he was not trying to sweet talk me or win me over to get a better deal. Plus I let the regular sales weasels do the hard sell, if it came to that.

Not surprisingly, Paul had a limo to take him around. I did not even know they made stretch Mercedes limos. As we rode, he bragged on the extremely rare and expensive Snake Wood used throughout the limo along with the mixture of rare stingray and crocodile leathers. Then he went into how much it cost to redo the old school office layouts of his great grandfather into something more modern and relevant like the auditorium we used today. Paul was starting to tell me about all his idea of how to modernize the business to his way of thinking, instead of the ways of his father, as we pulled up to this enormous estate.

Ok I showed him my high tech toys and wares, so he is showing me his. Arrogant, yes, but not unusual when making the appearances of befriending a possible important business contact.

When we went inside this huge mansion, I found it was one of those exclusive elite businessmen's clubs. Unlike the gentlemen's clubs of old, this one catered to the top one percent of Philly CEOs, male or female. It was where they came to network and make billion dollar deals. I felt I should be wearing an Italian Suit, not my Men's Warehouse "buy one get two free" suit. Well that was until I saw some of the younger elite were also just plain arrogant. At least one group was wearing ratty thousand dollar jeans and hundred dollar t-shirts with flip-flops.

"Relax Joe. This is not the stuffy old codger club my father frequented. Everyone here is younger, tech savvy and forward thinking. I can ensure you there are many here with a much higher IQ than yourself," Joe said with a bit of a snide tone at the end.

What the fuck does that mean?

Before I could consider it, I was giving a glass of Scotch and we were led to a private booth. The menu was one that had no prices, but I was not concerned. I had no cap on meals. If I could not land the sale, then it came out of my toy budget. So far I never had a lost sale as long as the Sales team did not try to screw me over. I always told my customers to be sure my name was on the invoice. When it wasn't I could not allow them to make the deal, my company was behaving dishonestly and that is never a good way to start out a business relationship.

Hell that is not a good way to start any relationship you want to last more than a night.

Paul smiles as he said, "I got this Joe. Best damn steaks I have ever had. No idea what type of beef it is, where is comes from or even how it is cooked."

It had been a long day and I just sat back to enjoy the very good Scotch as he went on to tell me all about his business, how he clawed his way up to the top and then pushed his father out into retirement. Seems Paul and his dad Robert never really saw eye to eye on anything. All Paul's siblings were favored over him. No matter how hard he worked it was never good enough. He was really proud of how he waited in the wings biding his time until he was able to get the Board of Directors to finally see his way. They were all set to reap the rewards of his insight and new way of doing things.

Damn it is getting thick now. I hope the food gets here so I don't drink myself into a stupor just so I can put up with him for a while longer. He is really starting to be ass. I mean I get the whole fighting to get to the top, but this guy sounds like a politician trying to get elected. He is already the top dog now.

I was saved by the steaks arriving.

For a place so elite, they really could not have done a worse job of making side dishes for this divine cut of meat. They did some sort of evil magic on the baked potato so that it was flavorless and just barely recognizable as something to eat and not a garnish. I have no clue what the other side was other than something green. It looked like they took grabbed up bags of almost expired free vegetables from the local market, turned them into a smoothie, and then tried to bake it. I scraped it off onto my bread plate with the baked potato. I wanted nothing to interfere with this two inch thick, perfectly cooked cut of beef sitting centered on my plate.

Now I have eaten a lot of high priced meals as I tried to sell our software. No matter what I thought of Paul, he was correct about this being the best steak in Philly. It had the flavor of a perfectly cooked prime rib with the texture of hand fed, Kobe beef. It was so tender I was nearly able to cut it with the side of my fork. Neither of us disrespected this delicacy by talking as we ate.

Once our plates had been cleared and we were enjoying yet another Scotch, things turned a bit weird.

It started innocent enough. He talked about how his childhood really sucked because of their family having old money going back many generations. People always expected him to behave a certain way, be president of the student council, star quarterback and be homecoming king. It was his birthright. When instead he wanted to do gymnastics, school plays and swimming, his father told him he had no ambition.

Paul must not go out drinking much these days. He is starting to sound like a little whiney child. God I don't want to have to see him start to cry over his poor, privileged life.

We were on our third after diner Scotch when he finally wound down telling me all about himself and his youth. I was expecting him to ask for the check and bail now that he unloaded his sob story on me.

I was surprised by him yet again when he asked me where I grew up.

"Joe, did you happen to remember a girl named Ariel that went to your school," he asked out of the blue.

The dream came back to me suddenly and caused me to remember he was why she had to move in a hurry. The guy in front of me did not seem to have the balls to be that ruthless. I am sure he was going to cry anytime now.

Might as well see where this is going. I need to see what he is after here. This too weird to come out of the blue. Especially after that weird dream I had on whatever the dicks from work dosed me with before my flight up here.

"Yeah I remember Ariel," I said trying to sound pissed off about her. "I only knew who she was because she rode my bus. Klutz was not paying attention to where the hell she was going and fell over a bridge. I didn't even like her, but you know, I wasn't about to let her die down there. I called 911 and rushed down to see if she was even alive. She started telling me some bullshit about worrying about bleeding to death from where her leg was cut when she fell. Somehow I just had to use my knife to get her shorts free just to be sure. Only girl I have ever known that didn't wear panties. Instead it was a ruse for her to flash her hairy pussy so I would cum in my pants. Wouldn't you know it Paul? I was there trying to help her and when the ambulance arrived, all they saw was me between her spread legs with a huge cum stain in the front of my pants. Better yet, she decided to pass out on me. What did I get for dragging my ass down there to make sure she was alive? I got arrested and thrown in a Juvenal Detention for the rest of the night and much of the next day. They were sure I was about to rape her passed out body."

I stopped to gauge his reaction as I took another sip of my Scotch.

I could not read him as he said, "I remember my sister calling my father Robert to tell about her getting hurt. He used to say how I should be more like you in helping others."

Ah there is some resentment. I am going to play off that. He really seems to be a dick after all.

Downing the rest of my Scotch in one big gulp I said angrily, "I don't know what the hell her mom was telling your family, but I think someone lied. Instead of me being some sort of hero I got made her damn nursemaid. I had to be up two hours earlier to deal with wiping her ass, getting her dressed, making whatever the hell she wanted to eat for breakfast and then carry both of our books to school. Afterschool I lugged our books over to her house, wrote down her homework answers, washed her, and then got to go home around ten so I could do my homework. After a week of this I was exhausted and found I had passed out in her bed with her. No one said shit about it, so I packed up some clothes to just crash there during the week."

I drank about half my new Scotch before continuing.

"You know how hard it is to be fourteen year old boy holding a naked girl to you with one arm and trying to wash her without busting a nut? My poor dick only failed to get hard because it was so damn raw from having to jack off a half dozen times before I got in the shower with her. So finally the casts come off and do I finally get to go home to sleep in my own bed? Nope. She was still too weak and needed months of physical therapy. Only now, instead of her being doped up and out all night long so I could get some sleep, Ariel used me as a teddy bear. Three days after her casts came off she insisted her gown and pajamas were getting twisted up, so she started sleeping naked. Nothing like waking up with your cock glued to your dick hairs and boxer shorts. I swear she must have been playing with my dick in my sleep to torment me even more. The only good thing was that she could take a bath by herself and wipe her own ass."

Paul just said, "It was never said outright by my family. Everyone assumed your unrestricted access was your benefit for your assistance. Why else would they have let you two alone unsupervised or not gotten her a nurse?"

"Don't I wish that was the case Paul," I said shaking my head. "I did not grow up with money or privilege. If my parents thought I even asked for a hand job while she recovered, they would have castrated me. "Until she was fully cleared by her pediatrician as being completely healed, she was off limits. That had been drilled into my head from the time I got caught playing doctor in preschool. So what happened when she was good to go and promising we could break each other in? She up and disappears. I head to school and she goes to a checkup. When I get home from school and they are gone. Their house is empty, no notes, school said she was pulled out. No one around town knew anything."

Oh you are a smug dick aren't you?

He had a satisfied grin on his face as he asked about if I ever found out what happened to her. Then he went to say how she got knocked up and their father realized her mom should have made the choice to work or have kids, not both. His dad Robert kicked her out of the family business for disgracing him.

"We never knew who knocked her up Joe," he said with that same smirk. "Everyone always assumed it was you."

Drinking down the last of my Scotch I said, "Well what I learned about a women's period shit came from the crap they taught in Biology and Sex Ed. Ariel never had a period when I was taking care of her. I already told both sets of parents that if she started having periods, someone else was going to have to take care of her. No way did I want to have to drop out of school and get a job to care for a kid. Just taking care of her for those months was more than I wanted to do for anyone ever again. Maybe she found someone to get it on with when she was sitting out of gym class. She had plenty of time with lunch right before gym and a study hall after. Except when we had the same classes, I never saw her much during the day. Plus Ariel was usually completely stoned on all the pain meds."

Paul just responded with, "Wouldn't you see the telltale signs of her having sex when you washed her?"

"I was fourteen. They got me a box of rubbers each time I had to put one of those yeast infection suppositories up inside her. Her hymen was barely open enough to get the damn suppositories through. Then I had to carefully work a finger in to get the damn thing way up inside her. She could not take the one-time pill because of her other meds. She got a damn infection about every other month and it was two weeks of suppositories," I told him faking being angry and a bit drunk. "Not what I considering fingering a girl, let me tell you. Nothing worse than busting a nut when smelling funky yeast infected pussy."

"So you never slipped a rubber on to have a go then? That must have been hell," he asked trying to sound a bit drunk too.

This guy is definitely used to the drinking game to get info out of someone.

Shrugging I said, "Nope. She at least still had her cherry a month after the cast came off her leg. She could do it herself by then, but I had already gotten the process down by then and had it done before I shot off. Still used the damn condom though. No point in making a mess everywhere. Once she was wiping her own ass and bathing herself that was the end of me having to see any pink. You sure she got pregnant way back then? My biology is a bit rusty, but don't they have to have a period already to get knocked up?"

I could see the wheels turning as he sipped his Scotch slowly.

Finally he said, "Doctors found her two weeks along at one of her checkups. I am surprised she never told you."

"Well you have to know that Ariel is smart as hell. Here I was being her free nursemaid while she recovered. She had to know there was no way in hell I would do that shit if I found she snuck off somewhere to let some other guy pop her cherry and get what should have been mine. Everyone in your family seems to think it was my right after all. Girls and women must be born evil, conniving manipulative bitches," I said with a slight drunk slur.

We got another Scotch as we pretended to bond by complaining about girls and women.

Paul looked really proud as he said, "Well I am not letting that happen to my girls and nieces. They are delivered directly to the nuns at the Catholic Girl's School by a female chauffer. After school, the chauffer must sign them out and nuns escort them into the limo. No side trips for shopping, hanging out at the mall or doing anything where they can be with a boy, unless there never leave the sight of my wife, myself, their uncles, or grandparents. I don't trust my sisters or sister-in-laws to keep them free from any chances of being with boys unsupervised until they get out of high school. They know very well that we do not believe in abortions or birth control."

Yeah let your fake buzz slip and you did not even notice it. Maybe my dream was not so far off base after all.

After he bragged some more about how important he was in his own mind. It was obvious this whole dinner had just been a ploy to pump me for anything I would tell him regarding Ariel. I told him I had better call it a night after finishing the latest Scotch. At least I seemed to impress him when I did not blink at the twelve hundred dollar bill or when I put on a three hundred dollar tip to boot.

When we headed out to the limo, he showed me how good he was at looking me right into my eyes and lying in my face.

"Damn Joe," he said trying to sound mad at himself, "We got to talking and I completely forgot about calling my buddy to get you setup in a much better hotel. Let me see what I can do, but it is pretty late."

As we sat in the Limo, he punched up a phone number, versus using his contacts list. He played off like it went to the voice mail of his friend. After some quick bullshit and asking the guy to give him a call back in the morning, he hung up. After three more "tries" he gave up. I got a line that he must be missing some big event because none of his buddies answered. He told his driver to take me back to my hotel and he would call them first thing tomorrow to get me a better room.

Yeah right. Like that is going to happen in this reality. I don't expect to see him at all for the rest of the week. Oh well. The enemy you know and all that shit.

At least the big assed steak had soaked up all of the Scotch and I remembered to pull the shower head off to soak it in vinegar. After having had to deal with these crap hotels, I always carry a quart of vinegar, pipe wrench and pipe tape. It was nice to know that I was not going to owe Paul a favor for him getting me into a better hotel.

After paying for yet another night, and getting charged for a mini bar again without getting the key, I decided that little shit of a kid was going to get his tonight. As soon as I got in the room I picked the minibar lock, cleaned it out and left the fridge standing wide open. I called right down to the flabby bitch that answered the phone in the back office between servicing johns.

"Hey what the hell gives here? Kid said he didn't have the key for the minibar in my room but charges me three bills for it anyway. I come in this room to find the damn thing is wide open and empty. I never got my deposit back last night and I am sure as hell not getting screwed tonight. You either bring me back my six hundred bucks or I am going to go find your usual clients to let them know what you are pulling here," I told the bitch on the phone.

I got the normal lines of bullshit until I told her I was pretty familiar with Kensington Avenue. I did not tell her it was only because I always did research into which parts of a town have the highest crime, especially those like Kensington Avenue in Philadelphia. It was said to not have any real cop presence. I had a knock on the door five minutes later.

I just waved them over to the wide open minibar.

Looking at the unwashed, greasy night shift manager I said, "I think you need to can that kid at the front desk. He has a cup marked minibar that is full of keys, but said he did not have any. Then I watched him pocket the three bills last night as I was heading to the room. Look I know it goes with the territory. You charge twenty bucks for a beer, fine. Don't go fucking me over by not even bothering to fill the damn thing up."

Damn she is actually pissed off at something other than being out of cigarettes or having to pry her ass out of the chair to do her fucking job.

The woman walked out of the room, got to the top of the stairs and yelled down for the kid at the desk to get his ass up here. When he got here she pinned him to the wall with one chubby arm and shoved the other into his pockets. Kid must have pocketed six or seven grand just today. The woman pulled off six hundred that she threw at me before throwing him out of the room in front of her. I just got the cash, grabbed my gear and room key.

No way in hell I am about to stay here with that kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

I must say I am probably one of the only people at my company that like our accounting department. They love ripping into "the airline" and credit card company each time I get back from a trip. I am pretty sure at least one of the women there creams her panties when I come in after a flight like the one I had coming up here.

One other thing I have learned about cities like Philly, anywhere there is a shit motel like this one, there are cabbies waiting to pick you up out front, as long as it is cash up front. I found one, showed him a hundred and said it was his if he could get me to hotel nearby that actually washed their sheets at least once this week. When he dropped me at this place called the "Conwell Inn" I expected even worse than where I came from. Surprisingly they not only had rooms, the room was clean, did not reek of sex or cigarettes and the shower head worked along with having great water pressure.

I stripped and dropped onto the bed.

What sort of dream is it going to be tonight? I wonder if there was any of what they slipped me somewhere in my stuff.

Chapter 2 »