Flowers in a Vase

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The instructions were clear: upon arrival at the hotel she will be shown to a room, she will not talk to the man who enters the room. She knows who it will be. He has contacted her before. She is both intrigued and scared by the clandestine approach.

Her plane touches down seven minutes late. She feels slightly anxious. She is met at Arrivals by a chauffeur in dark glasses and black suit, white shirt and black tie. He says nothing and his only gesture is to take the small suitcase from her hand.
She has travelled five thousand miles. A long journey into the unknown.
Sunlight streams in through the limousine windows as the car makes its way into traffic. A heaviness comes over her and she wants to sleep. But she can’t. She refuses to submit. To surrender.

The car does not drive to the hotel entrance in all its grandness but slips around the corner and down onto the second level of the underground car park. Another man, dressed in similar fashion to the driver awaits them . The men do not exchange as much as a glance. And she leaves the car without word or looking back. Enters an elevator as directed by the second man.

In the hotel the man instructs her to shower. He leaves the room without any further conversation. She looks around the room. The finishing is sparse. A sofa and a bed. At the foot of the bed is a large thick brown glass topped coffee table. On it a small vase of flowers and a roll of cling film food wrap.
She opens her suitcase out on the bed. Though she removes nothing from it.
In the bathroom she finds a pile of clothes: a dress, underwear and a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes and a scented envelope. Black ink on handmade pink note paper; Enjoy a luxuriant bath.

There is a man sitting on the sofa when she re-enters the room. He is in his forties with cropped greying hair and dressed in a grey suit. He is tanned and healthy looking. He smiles in a comforting and accommodating manner. He gestures for her to join him on the sofa. He pours some green tea from a small and heavy pot into two little bowls.
“Hi, I hope your flight was comfortable. Join me for tea and let me explain our situation.”
And with a smile coming from sea blue eyes he assuredly offered her one of the cups.
“In the room adjoining this one are two men. One is going to bring about the economic downfall of a small Eastern European State and the other will step in when it has collapsed to offer loans and securities to relieve it of pain and misery. They are very powerful men though not politicians. I have brought them together to further their needs but I don’t want to be privy to their conversation. Ah I guess this is where you play your part.”
He placed his fingertips on her lips anticipating that she was about to question him.
“I suggest that you slowly remove your clothing in your shy manner but leave on your bra. Such delights may be for another time.”

She stood before him and he cupped her buttocks in his hand and closing his eyes he pulled his face towards her pussy and began to breath deeply.
“You smell very good. Like flowers in a meadow. A summer’s day. Brilliant colours.”
He released his hands and fell back into the sofa.
“After we have met on two more occasions you will never have to work again. Never again in your life. And. And you will never see me again. Now kneel on the coffee table. And with your permission I would like to photograph you for posterity.
She crossed to the table and mounted it. Assuming herself on all fours. He followed her and place a camera down at a corner’s edge. Removed a small bottle of oil from his pocket and poured some into his hands. He began to massage her back. His touch felt good. Releasing any tension. He trickled some onto her ass and created a circular motion with his hands. Slowly moving into her anus with his oiled fingers. She closed her eyes. She saw an old lion in a meadow slumbering after a feed.
The man removed the flowers from the vase and wrapped them in the thin plastic cling film and oiled it. Then so very slowly he began to push the flowers into the cavity.
Some moments later he picked up the camera bad took several exposures.
“You are beautiful vase. Next time you will be a beautiful saucepan. I will make my okayu in it. Please make sure that I am not stirring any other man’s kayu.”
From beneath the table he removed an attache case and opened it. She smiled. Or tried to smile.
“Someone will escort you home.”

Afterwards she took a long bath and slipped off into sleep and dreamt again about a lion. He was lying asleep beside an empty honeypot surrounded by flies.

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