Not naming him. You’d know the face. Took me to the hotel next door, barely spoke, fucked like he had a match in the morning. Left a shirt. I kept it.
Tag: hotel
I Kept The Hotel Keycard
Not because I’m sentimental. Because the lighting in that bathroom was criminal and I might need the room number if the photo does numbers. Research. Obviously.
Two Boys After The Wrap
Fashion party, free champagne, bad decisions. Ended up in a suite with both of them. They took turns. I directed. Makeup was ruined. Best content I’ll never post.
Three Hour Paddington Microstay
Booked the room for one reason only. No sleepover, no breakfast, no pretending. He bent me over the desk until my legs shook. Then we both left separately. Efficient.
Toilet Stall At The Standard
Queue outside, his hand over my mouth, my back against the cistern. Lipstick everywhere. Walked out like nothing happened and ordered another dirty martini.
Lipstick On A Hotel Glass
Not my shade. Not my booking. I still took the photo because the lighting was filthy in the best way.