"G'night Donnie!" Joe slurred down the hallway to his buddy who was still trying to find the keyhole to his hotel room.
Joey watched for a minute, giggling like a schoolgirl at the sight of his older band-mate staggering drunkenly outside of his door and mumbling under his breath
"Where's the fucking hole dammit?!"
"It was a great night huh?" Joe called.
Donnie belched in reply and grit his teeth.
"It would be even better if I could get into my fucking room!"
Joe smiled and fell through the doorway of his plush hotel room.
Slamming the door behind him, he reached for the light switch and bashed it on with his fist.
"Ahhh shhhhitttt," he groaned as his head throbbed in pain.
Deciding that things looked a lot better in the dark, he turned the light off with his elbow. He considered taking a shower, but figured he would leave it 'til the morning. He had a habit of falling asleep when he'd been drinking, and didn't want to wake up on the floor of the shower. Instead he stumbled across the room into the bathroom and turned the small light on above the mirror.
He winced as he studied his reflection.
"Jesus, Joe, you look like shit," he mumbled and pulled his cheeks downwards to study his eyes
in more detail. They were bloodshot and moist, a sure sign
that he had overdone it. Wetting his hands, he ran them through his hair, enjoying the feel of the cold water on his scalp.
"I could sure do with a swim right now," he mused, but settled instead for brushing his teeth, slowly and meticulously.
The sound of running water reminded him of what else he needed to take care of. He gripped the toothbrush between his teeth and unzipped his jeans.
Swaying slightly, he stood above the toilet and relieved himself. Figuring he was going to bed anyhow, he let his jeans fall to the floor and kicked them off from around his ankles. He finished up brushing his teeth, and stood looking in the mirror while he unbuttoned his shirt.
Standing there in his open shirt, he looked at his limp manhood in the mirror.
"Don't worry buddy, we'll find you a home soon enough."
Laughing to himself, and thinking how funny it would be if people could see him talking to his penis, he turned out the light and shuffled into the bedroom.
He crawled over his bed to the large window facing the city and opened it hoping the fresh air would keep him from waking up with too much of a hangover. Climbing into bed, he flung his shirt to the floor and pulled the covers to his chin. He soon fell into a delirious, drunk induced sleep… dreaming of women.
I strolled up to the door of the Albion Hotel confidently and smiled sweetly at the porter as he opened the door for me.
"I hope you had a good evening Miss," he said politely.
"It was just wonderful," I replied, and made my way into the hotel lobby.
My tight knee length skirt and stiletto heels were starting to piss me off, but I withstood the pain and the blister forming on my heel and strolled sexily up to the reception desk.
"Miss Browning," the pretty blonde behind the counter greeted me. "I
trust your meeting went well?"
"It went perfectly, thank you. I believe I made quite an impression." I adjusted my hat, ensuring that my hair was entirely covered.
The hotel staff would never believe that I was a shrewd business woman visiting New York for a conference if they saw my rose red hair. It was a part of me, it made me feel sexy, and as much as I needed this trip to be successful, I was not willing to sacrifice part of my personality. Even if I did get found out. What could they do? Throw me out of the hotel at the worst. I had checked into the hotel knowing full well that the New Kids on the Block were staying there. I had been following them closely, monitoring their every move since the start of the year.
I had been patient, but my patience was wearing thin.
It had taken nearly every ounce of my energy, and every cent in my bank to get this far, and I was damned if I was gonna let some blonde bitch ruin it for me now.
I took my key from the receptionist, and smiled sweetly.
"Good evening," I said, and headed for the lift, noting as I passed that Jordan and John were in the hotel bar, roaring with laughter over some letters they were holding. Obviously notes from fans which they had been given at the signing. I thanked God that they were back.
I took my hat off and let my hair cascade onto my shoulders.
Taking my shoes off and nestling my stockinged feet into the plush carpet on the floor of the lift I let out a deep sigh of relief and looked at myself in the mirrored walls. I readjusted my shirt, undoing the top couple of buttons and rubbed at the faint black smears which were beginning to appear underneath my eyes.
When the lift finally *ping*ed the signal that I had reached the right floor, I took my shoes in one hand, my shoulder bag and hat in the other and headed off down the hallway, enjoying the feel of the cold floor on my tired feet.
I opened the door to my room, "the room which practically made me
bankrupt" I thought bitterly, flinging my shoes, hat and bag onto
the bed. I made my way to the fridge and threw a few ice cubes
into a glass. I poured myself a large shot of whiskey from the
crystal decanter. The acid fumes hit me almost immediately as I strolled into the bathroom.
Placing the glass on the sideboard, I reached into the shower and turned on the cold water. I put the toilet seat down and nestled my plump backside down, flinching a little as the cold seat touches the back of my legs. Carefully I peel off my stockings, knowing that I may need them again (unless I get caught) and lay them on the side of the sink. I stand and unbutton my shirt, which I remove and place next to my stockings, careful not to crease it.
"Business women never have creases", I mused, smiling as I unzip my tight black skirt, which I roll down over my thighs to fall to the floor. I grab the material between my toes and bring it up to my hand, fold, and place it on the sink with my other garments.
The bathroom smelled sweet; the small bowls of pot pourri giving off a floral, honey like scent that made me think of pancakes. I inhaled deeply, stretching my arms above my head, and clambered into the shower, shedding my underwear quickly and efficiently with each step.
I let the freezing cold water trickle over my hair, and watched as
it ran from my locks over my chest. The dye in my hair made the
water turn red and for a moment I imagined that it was blood
cascading off my body. I ran my hands over my pale, round breasts
to get rid of the tainted water and shivered with pleasure as my
hands brushed my hard, almost painful nipples. I lifted my head and allowed the cool water to run into my mouth and over my chin.
I was going to make the most of this night, of that I was certain.
Taking a bar of soap from a tray attached to the wall, I lathered my cold body, my hands lingering a little too long between my legs as I carefully washed myself. The anticipation of what I had planned was exciting me, and I had to restrain myself from continuing to gently cleanse the delicate pink folds between my legs. I squeezed the excess water from my hair, making sure that no dye remained in the bottom of the shower, and turned the tap to the off position.
I stepped carefully out of the shower, my body shaking with a fantastic mix of pleasure and the cold. I reached for the glass and downed the whiskey in one, enjoying the warm sensation filling my stomach. Grabbing a thick white towel from the radiator I slowly dried myself, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric caressing my skin. I looked in the mirror at my lank hair covering my shoulders, my red lips quivering with the cold.
"Right come on then, let's do this."
"I really haven't thought this through", I realised with a tinge of sadness as I crept out of my room.
I had to be extremely quiet. I could just imagine if Jordan and Jon came up to their rooms only to find a half-naked woman tip toeing the halls of their hotel. I quickly flung the image from my mind.
"It is now or never you stupid fuck."
There were seven rooms on my level. One was mine, and one belonged to a middle aged man whom I had greeted when I first checked in. That left the guy's rooms. But which one was the bastard in?
I realised the flaw to my plan and cursed myself. I didn't have long to think though, because voices were coming up the staircase. It was two guys, had to be the brothers.
I ducked into the lift, and pressed my body against the cold mirrors, trying not to shriek as the cold glass pressed against my skin. I listened.
"I'm going to bed bro'," said one voice.
"Yeah me too, soon. Gonna go chat to D for a bit though, see you in the morning."
I sighed with relief as I heard two doors shut. I quickly made my
way over to the closest room and listened at the door. Two voices,
must be Jon and Danny. The next room was silent. I crept on down
the corridor. I could hear humming coming from the third door I
stopped at, and figured that Jordan was getting ready for bed. That
left two rooms. Both omitted a light snoring, and it was impossible
