Page 61 - PENTHOUSE LETTERS 2018 Writer Of The Year Award Jim McCartan

cell phone. Did you lose it earlier?”
Grabbing my handbag off the side
table, I confirmed that it was missing and
said I’d be right down. I quickly dressed
and headed for the elevator, flushed and
very much in need of a proper fucking.
Mitch was leaning against the front desk,
making the blonde concierge smile and
giggle as I approached.
“I can’t thank you enough for this,” I
said. “How did you know it was mine?”
“I noticed you left it behind on the
bar,” he said.
“Let me buy you a drink.” We both
smiled at the front desk girl and headed
for the lounge. But once out of view, I
pulled him toward the elevators. “Why
not just come up? Did you lose the key I
gave you?” I asked.
“I wanted to see you in public again
first, I guess.” The elevator arrived, and
once in, he said, “Turn around for me? I
fucking love your ass.”
“Where’s your girlfriend?”
“I have no idea—and she’s not my
girlfriend.”
I had left my room in such a hurry that
my dildo and vibrator were still sitting on
the bed, and he spotted the discarded
toys as soon as he stepped inside my
room. I reached for them, laughing.
“I wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight.
Sometimes a girl’s gotta take matters
into her own hands.”
He laughed, but I could tell he was
also excited by the idea that I’d been
playing with myself while waiting for him.
A few months ago, I had made a similar
proposition to a beautiful young guy in a
hotel bar in Chicago. When he knocked
on my door, I opened it as far as the
safety chain would allow. He said hello,
and I angled my bare breast and already
hard nipple into his view before closing
the door again, sliding off the latch and
opening the door wide. He stepped in
and reached for me as he unhitched his
belt and pants. He was energetic in the
sack, but he had no finesse. He rushed
to get himself off, and our hookup left me

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