I drag my hand luggage with the missing wheel
to Tony's two star hotel.
He welcomes me by ogling my breasts.
Anyone can see he calls them hooters.
Just the hour darlin?
We exchange a knowing smile between us
and he chews his spearmint gum faster.
I inhale the cheap cologne that complements his cheesy grin.
My plastic always does the talking
but when my stiletto snaps, I suddenly come down a notch.
I curse out loud and sign on the dotted line.
Tony passes me the keys and winks.
Room 12b as per usual m'lady
Beads of sweat collect in my cleavage
as I lug my baggage up the threadbare stairs.
My assortment of accoutrements rattle with each hoist
till finally, I reach the top.
Tony stands at the bottom gratified
by my fishnet, mini skirt ascent.
He sniggers, snorts, chews.
I can almost feel his rock hard lust.
My *** wiggles on the landing for his benefit
and I blow kisses at him through wavy fingers.
I'll moan 'Tony' if I need anything ok?
He adjusts his wedding tackle,
preens his grimy lapels and assures me he'll be right at hand.
I laugh at his sleazy chivalry, thinking just how much
weekly tupperware parties at Tony's suck.
