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The following blog was written by the ever alluring and mysterious Nicole, with love.

He had booked a suite at an exclusive hotel known for its decadent beds, big baths, large flat screen TVs and most importantly, its discretion. I was to meet him at 10pm, for two hours, some time just before Christmas. I wore a maroon strapless cocktail dress and my knee-high boots. Lady like but for a hint of slut in the shoe. My green eyes were rimmed with black and my hair fell in loose dark waves down my slim back. I smelt and looked expensive. I was in the mood for....anything.
I knocked on the door with my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn’t prepared for what I got. He was in his late thirties, slim, dark-haired and handsome, with light eyes that glinted in the darkness of the room, adrenalin keeping him on edge. He was well dressed in a jacket and jeans. He had the quiet confidence of a self-made man, with an intensity that made me think of an animal in captivity. 'You’re very attractive' I said, before I could think. 'And you are very beautiful' he replied, gently. We looked at one another in silence, contemplating the next step.
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