Warm Sultry Iss

Monday

Like he did every weekday morning, Roger Morso awoke

at 6:00 am. He put on his gym clothes and took the elevator down 25 flights to the first floor for his hour-long workout. From a Quaker family that traced its ancestry to the earliest English settlements in the Philadelphia area, Roger Morso was a wealthy and powerful man.

After graduating from an Ivy League university, he decided to make his mark in the rough and tumble world of commercial real estate development. His success was legendary. Using his enormous financial and political capital, he was the go-to developer for the biggest, most expensive projects in the region.

Since his well-publicized divorce, a year and a half ago, Roger, a distinguished, broad-shouldered man, age 70, with gray hair, had been living in a high-rise condo in Center City, on the Delaware River, near the historic Penn's Landing.

From his window, he had a panoramic view of both directions of the heavily traversed Delaware River and the stunning Ben Franklin Bridge that spanned the waterway to Camden, NJ, on the other side. Realizing that Center City was in his soul, he did not contest his ex-wife's desire to keep the suburban, Main Line mansion they shared for 30 years.

Roger conducted most of his business downtown. His office was in a 47-floor high-rise across the street from the Hotel Ranstead. He often joked that he closed more deals at the Ranstead than anywhere else. Roger was comfortable making deals in its private meeting rooms, or even better, in the dark oak paneled bar, which boasted a wide variety of the finest liquors from around the world. One could hold court with social equals at the bar or find nooks, or small booths, for more intimate one-on one's.

A room was always held in reserve for Roger at the elegant Hotel Ranstead. After bailing the hotel owner out of a gambling debt many years earlier, he became a minority partner. Overlooking famous Rittenhouse Square, the Hotel Ranstead catered to a high-powered, wealthy clientele. It was popular with old and new money alike, but out of reach, financially and socially, to the average Philadelphian.

Despite the abrupt change to his life that occurred when he walked in on his wife, fucking a luxury car salesman, Roger was a man who followed a routine. Up by 6:00 am, daily, he would begin his day in the fitness center, eating a fruit salad and plain yogurt for breakfast. After putting on his conservative, tailored suit, he would meet his driver downstairs who would take him to work in his black Cadillac, with tinted windows.

Almost invariably he would have lunch at the Ranstead, where the staff kept a quiet booth reserved for him in the back of the bar. Sometimes he sat by himself. More often, he would be joined by a business associate, or a lawyer, a judge, maybe a politician, each seeking his counsel, or his money.

On rare occasions, he would be joined by a woman, even prior to his divorce. A private man, there was always an air of mystery surrounding Roger. Though he was a generous tipper and gracious to those in the service industry, Roger did not interact much with individuals who were not part of his social class. He was content to be called Mr. Morso and he paid little mind to the day-to-day trials and tribulations of working-class people.

On this Monday, Roger got into his office by 8:15 am, a little later than he wanted, as these were busy days for The Morso Company. After a tough multi-year campaign to win development rights, from the River Commission, to build the largest project in the history of the Delaware waterfront, hard decisions had to be made.

Applying for permits, gaining local, state, and federal approvals would be time consuming. They had an ambitious construction schedule, resulting from difficult but ultimately successful negotiations with the building trades unions. Any delay would increase labor costs and jeopardize the huge profits envisioned by Roger Morso and his New York investors.

As the lunch hour approached, Roger prepared to walk over to the Ranstead to meet with the two young men from the investment firm, Jameer and Taylor. Roger liked Jameer and Taylor, who were still in their late twenties. They shared a bond over having attended the same local Ivy League business school, though Roger had attended almost 50 years before them.

The collegiality was only at the surface though, as the business relationship was strained. Roger thought the leaders at the investment firm were too conservative in their thinking. Their desire for expediency, in his mind, demonstrated a lack of understanding of just how lucrative this project could be for all of them.

For their part, Jameer, Taylor and their colleagues in Manhattan, thought Roger was opaque in his business practices, made too many inside deals and was too stubborn.

A case in point was the labor negotiations. Just weeks ago, the firm demanded to see the contracts that Roger was working on with the various unions. While Jameer and Taylor were trying to track Roger down, they were alerted that there would be a press conference on the waterfront. They raced to the scene, only to discover Roger and a group of union leaders, congratulating each other on the agreement they just signed.

At lunch, Roger planned to smooth things over with the young men, who were smarting from the criticism they got from their senior executives over not knowing about Roger's labor press conference stunt.

The next morning the three of them would be choosing one of three options for the placement of the casino and pro basketball arena. Kyle, from the San Francisco based engineering firm that specialized in big Green projects, would be making a presentation about the pros and cons of each option.

Roger supported Option A, which would make them the most money, but would cut off public access to the waterfront. He figured some political wheeling and dealing would get the job done and they would all be richer for it.

The New York investors liked Option B, which would make less money but only cut off most of the public access to the waterfront. They believed that option would be more politically palatable, hence, moving the project along more quickly, with less financial risk.

No one liked Option C (other than the general public and the politicians), which would not cut public access to the waterfront at all but would cut too deeply into the profits.

It was a hot and humid mid-July day in Center City Philadelphia. Roger walked through the air-conditioned lobby of his office building, about to walk outside into the heat to cross the street to the Hotel Ranstead. His cellphone rang. It was Taylor calling.

"Taylor, my young man! Are you at the Ranstead already? With your first Martini?"

"Ha. No Mr. Morso, I'm afraid I'm not."

"It's Roger to you, Taylor. You're my fellow alumni from the old university! Are you and Jameer running late?"

"No, Roger. I apologize. Jameer and I have been in meetings all morning. Our risk mitigation team called and wanted to talk to us again about our meeting tomorrow. We won't get down to Philly until this evening."

"Oh, hell Taylor. You guys have too many damn meetings and not enough balls!" A quick to anger Roger, fumed, as he stopped in the lobby to talk, rather than continue through the revolving doors out into the stifling heat. "I wanted us to go over a game plan for tomorrow's presentation at lunch today!

"I don't like this California engineering firm you guys made me hire." Roger continued. "And that young surfer guy, Kyle, that they're sending to make the presentation! Don't get me started. I've seen his type. He's a preening pretty boy, more worried about wooing the ladies and getting his dick sucked, than doing his day job!"

"Look Roger." Taylor shot back. "The banks insisted we hire contractors with a track record for solid, on-time delivery on jobs. You know that. Kyle's new in his role, but Jameer and I have confidence in him."

A wound-up Roger Morso would not relent. He yelled into his phone in the busy lobby of his office building.

"He'd better deliver the goods tomorrow and help me understand why Option B is better than Option A like you guys think. Otherwise, I'll fire that firm and you and your investors can sell your shares. How do you like that!"

"Hey Roger. Cool down." Taylor calmly responded. "If, for some reason, Kyle does not meet the moment, we will discuss it, make the hard decisions and move on."

"Ok." Roger said, feeling bad about having unloaded on the young man he liked so much. "You know me, Taylor. Sometimes I overreact."

"I know, Roger. Let's meet in the hotel bar this evening and talk more over a drink."

"I wish I could." Roger responded. "I'm being honored for my philanthropy tonight in the building I live in. I think the organizers figured that was a good way of making sure I show up. Those SOB's!"

"Roger! Why didn't you tell us? Jameer and I would have bought tickets."

"Taylor," Roger responded, calmer now. "I like you and Jameer too much to force you to hang out with a bunch of old folks for a night. Besides, you should try your luck in the bar at the Ranstead tonight. Young, successful men like you will have no problem getting laid. The bar has a reputation for attracting married women, looking for an upgrade, at least temporarily, if you know what I mean!"

"Ha. We'll see if that works out Roger." Taylor said, about to hang up the phone.

"Taylor. I'll see you and Jameer tomorrow morning at 9:00 am, sharp! Just check the front desk for the Morso meeting room." Roger said, before hanging up.

Roger considered going back up to his office, ordering takeout and working through lunch. But he decided to go to the Hotel Ranstead anyway. He was in the mood for a dirty martini.

Tommy Robbins sat on the train reading the sports page

on his way into town to go to work at the Hotel Ranstead. He had just celebrated twenty years as a bartender at the five-star hotel. He had only recently been picking up more daytime hours, after two decades building a reputation as a legendary cocktail maker for the well-heeled, happy hour crowd, in the evening.

An Irish immigrant, who came to the United States with his parents as a young man, Tommy 51, 5'5", nearly bald, and slight in size, was still getting acclimated to the daytime scene. It included a lot of power lunches by the local business elite, and rich retirees who lived in the stylish high rises around the square. Now in his early fifties, he was ready to move to the day shift, so that he could have more evenings free.

Tommy was beginning to feel better about himself after a few tough weeks. It had been almost a month since he dropped a keg of beer on his hand, which caused a stress fracture. The keg accident happened the day before he and Mary, the married woman with whom he was having a secret affair, were to work at Nathan's cigar party. Nathan was his long-time friend, customer, and a successful real estate attorney, who was trying to impress his business associates and potential clients.

Tommy's plan was to work the gig with Mary, his first true love from back in his early twenties. After the gig was over, he had arranged with her to take her back to his place so they could fuck all night. Ultimately that plan fizzled when he broke his hand and had to arrange for his downstairs neighbor, Zach, to take his place as the bartender for the party.

To Tommy's shock and dismay, he was awoken at 3:45 am by Mary's voice from downstairs, loudly screaming Zach's name and even exuberantly declaring Zach the "owner" of her ass. Humiliated by her betrayal, he had tried, without success, to forget about Mary.

Fortunately, on the Mary front, things were looking brighter. Earlier that morning, Mary called him and spoke to him as if nothing had happened. She asked Tommy if he would be working that day. Her young friend, Brandi, was seeking a bartending job and she wanted to stop in, just before the lunch hour, to introduce them and get his advice.

Tommy was thrilled he would be seeing Mary again. As Monday's were slower than other days, Tommy would be finished work by 3:00 pm at the latest. He hoped to talk Mary into coming home with him when his shift was over. He knew it would be difficult to get her to go all the way out to his suburban apartment. He wished he could get a room for the two of them at the hotel, but at more than $1000 per night, even with his twenty five percent employee discount, it was just not practical.

Steve and Mary were both up early on this July Monday

. Mary usually slept in while Steve got ready for work. She was rarely awake when he left a cup of coffee on her nightstand and kissed her on the side of the cheek before leaving. Today was different. Mary was so excited to welcome Kyle back to town later that night, she was already out of bed packing when Steve woke up.

Steve, 55, and Mary, 51, married for 14 years after failed first marriages, were a good-looking couple. Steve, 6'2", 215 lbs., kept himself in good physical condition and had a touch of gray in his short, dark brown hair. Mary, a lingerie model as a younger woman, was particularly striking with her 5'4", toned, near perfect, medium body, and long red hair.

It was a bittersweet moment for Steve. Today was the day he was supposed to travel to San Francisco on a business trip and continue his secret affair with Jen, the young, sexy hot wife he had met two weeks earlier when Jen, and her husband, Bob, were visiting Steve and Mary's neighbors, Audrey and Justin.

But just days after their tryst in his toolshed, Steve learned of a mandatory, in-person, team meeting at the home office to be held on this very day. Steve had to cancel his business trip. Since Steve sent a text to Jen cancelling their date, he had received one mere text back from her, a sad face emoji and nothing more.

As disappointing as that was, Steve thought it might be for the best. He had planned on telling Mary about his affair with Jen, figuring with Mary's multiple lovers, it would be no big deal to her. But since that weekend, Steve could tell Mary saw Jen as a rival. She had taken so much pride in seducing Jen's husband, Bob, behind her back, it gave Steve pause about telling her that Jen had seduced him, behind Mary's back.

Back in the role of Mary's cuckolded husband, Steve felt uneasy and a bit jealous. Mary would be staying at a downtown hotel with her studly lover, Kyle, until Wednesday. Other than a critical team meeting at the office, just blocks from the Center City hotel where Mary and Kyle were staying, Steve would have a lot of idle time to think about the different ways Kyle would be fucking his wife over the next couple days and nights.

The past month had been quite a roller coaster ride for Steve. First, his staid marriage to Mary was upended when he discovered Mary had cheated on him with her old boyfriend, Tommy Robbins, and he confronted her about it. Upon further reflection, Steve realized Mary's infidelity had aroused him. Instead of her affair ruining their marriage, Steve gave Mary a permanent hall pass.

Mary was initially reticent at being a "hot wife," a term she learned from her friend Jill. But then, Mary sparked a three-day torrid affair with Kyle, who was visiting her neighbors, Audrey and Justin, and then later, she hooked up with the ass conqueror, Zach.

As Mary adapted to the hot wife life, she enjoyed toying with Steve. One week earlier, Mary showed Steve a link to a porn video Kyle had sent her. It was a twenty-minute video featuring an older woman getting triple-teamed by three young studs.

Steve got horny watching the racy porn with Mary and the idea that her younger lover had sent it to her. He tried to initiate sex after the third guy in the video had finished spilling his load on the woman's face and breasts, but Mary denied him.

"I'm sorry, Steve. But I must rest my body. Kyle's going to pound my pussy for two long nights!" She said, taking pleasure in telling Steve that he would not be getting sex until after Kyle had left town.

As the week wore on, Mary gave Steve little reason to believe she was interested in feeding his constant arousal, leaving him few outlets for his vivid imagination about Mary's plans. She kept her focus on completing a piece of artwork to submit for an online, silent auction, sponsored by the community art studio at which she took classes.

But then on Saturday afternoon, after Steve had just mowed the lawn and showered, Mary cornered him as he was still naked in the bedroom. She kissed him, gripped his cock and whispered in his ear.

"I'm on my way to get a manicure, pedicure and Brazilian wax." She said, as she batted her eyelashes at him. "I'm taking the credit card. I have to look sexy for Kyle on Monday, sweetie, don't you think?"

"Sure, Mary. Anything you want." An aroused Steve answered.

"Oh, that's great Steve." Mary said to him. "I might need a new summer dress or two."

Now it was Monday and the anticipated day had arrived. As Steve put on his gray suit, white shirt and light blue tie to head to work for his big team meeting, Mary was trying on her clothing options for later that night and asking Steve his opinion.

As Steve stood before Mary in his suit, watching her change in and out of sexy dresses, he was checking his time. He needed to hug and kiss Mary good-bye and then leave for work, lest he be late for the mandatory meeting, but watching Mary try on sexy outfits always mesmerized Steve.

Finally, Mary, with her new ruby red nail polish on her finger and toenails and fresh Brazilian wax, was finished trying on clothes and stood before Steve, completely naked, smiling up at him.

"Steve, we need to say our good-byes so you can go to work." Mary said, teasing her uncomfortable, anxious husband.

She kissed him while running her finger up the outline of his obvious erection over his pants and played with the head of his cock.

"Steve, my darling." She whispered in his ear. "Can I give you some advice?"

"Of course, my dear! Anything." He said, as he looked at her, lovingly.

"Change out of that suit." She said, "You have a wet spot on your pants!"

After Steve left, Mary finished packing and picking out what

she would wear downtown. She decided on a cream-colored, loose linen, plain shirt and vintage denim jeans. She picked out comfortable shoes for walking. Downstairs brushing her long red hair in the bathroom, she realized it would be a perfect day to help Brandi in her quest to land a bartending job, by introducing her to Tommy.

She called Tommy and asked him if he were working and if she could bring Brandi in to meet him. He suggested they come around 11:30 am, before the lunch rush, then stay for lunch and a drink at the bar. Mary confirmed the plans with Brandi, who told her she could slip out of the cigar store to stop by for a quick meet and greet. She thanked Mary profusely for coming through for her with the introduction to the well-connected bartender, Tommy Robbins.

As Mary finished brushing her hair, she realized Tommy had not contacted her since that Friday night, three weeks earlier. She was supposed to spend that night with Tommy but ended up spending it with Zach. For the first time, Mary realized that Tommy may have heard her and Zach fucking that night. After all, she spent so much of the night loudly declaring herself to be Zach's cum slut and emphatically attesting to his ownership of her ass.

Mary thought to herself that she should make time for Tommy. It was her impetuous affair with Tommy that brought her exciting new lifestyle about, and she had not seen him since giving him a blowjob in his apartment five weeks ago. Of course, today would not be that day, since her focus was on getting ready for Kyle's arrival that evening at the Big Box Hotel.