The MacDonald Randolph was an old world hotel. Built in the 1860’s it had once been home to a Count, converted and updated over time, it had the air...of English aristocracy that fit so many of Michael’s notions of what ‘English’ meant. Taking care of his morning rituals and dressing in a comfortable pair of black jeans a heavy wool turtleneck sweater and his well worn timberline boots he closed the heavy oak door to his room, setting out to see the sights. His meeting with Ms. Smyth was not. I greeted him at the door with a hug and kiss and he returned the favour. We went into the living room where I had a nice bottle of white wine and a cheese and cracker plate on the coffee table. We sit on the couch together, drank some wine and talked some before finally he started to caress my leg and press into me to kiss me. It was like old high school days making on only now I was on the receiving end and loving it. It got kind of hot, me laying back on the couch, Leroy on top of me kissing. What would you expect of me?" "Well Jake, Enjoy the party with me and let everyone know that you're my boyfriend if they are interested. Then we will spend the night in our suite and if we are enjoying ourselves, you can fuck the shit out of me as much as you want. From your ad, I think you might be wanting more from me. What else would you want?" "Sounds good to me. You would pay all the expenses and I would like $300 for myself." "That sounds good to me, Jake. It's a date." I'll be. With that she stood up, walked around the chair, leaned forward and looked straight down the barrel of the lens exposing some impressive cleavage. I continued to snap away. I asked her to smile and managed to get a couple of really great shots. This woman was hot. She tried a couple of cheesy poses which I snapped and she let out a few giggles. All the while she was telling me she did not know what to expect when she arrived and whether I would be easy to work with. She was nervous to.