Sexy stories

  I pulled up to the curb and switched off my car, just as it started to rain. I'd listened to the morning news so I had made sure to put on my environment suit before leaving the Federal Building. As the auto-valet pulled my car into the hotel's car storage area, I climbed the short flight of stairs.
  The annoying, but necessary rinse off over, I removed the suit and went over to the check-in desk.
  "Clean skies to you, sir. How may I assist you?"   The clerk attempted to hide a cough behind a gloved hand as I looked him over. I flashed him my ID and badge.
 "I need to know what room Dana Maris is staying in and whether or not she has received any calls or messages since yesterday afternoon."
  As the clerk called up the relevant data on his terminal, I checked the screen's reflection in the polished marble wall behind him. I was unsure whether she was still in her room.
  "She's in room 4005. No messages since yesterday, but she did receive one phone call at nine P.M. last night."
  He had neglected to add that the call lasted only 30 seconds or that she had made three calls of approximately 45 seconds each immediately afterwards. The 'client present' flag was blinking, so unless Dana had unusual pull with the hotel, she should be up there.
  "Thanks. I'm now going to go up to her room. Don't signal her or you will be in violation of federal law. Don't call anyone she may have told you to."   The clerk looked nervous and coughed again. I gave him that stern, commanding look they tell you to use. It never works so I slipped him 50 dollars.
  The elevator had an attendant, in keeping with the expensive room rates. I told him to take me to the 40th floor. The hum of the elevator was almost inaudible and it accelerated and decelerated smoothly. The doors slid open and I left to find room 5.
  After a foyer of the same marble as the lobby desk, a long hall with nine doors stretched out before me. With four doors to either side, any reasonable numbering sequence would put hers at the end. One sane numbering sequence later, I was facing her door. I knocked, not using the palm plate signal. I didn't want her to know who it was, yet.
  I could almost imagine the click of her heels as she walked towards the door. I could almost smell whatever perfume she would be wearing. I unfortunately was not prepared for the door to snap open and a taser to be jabbed in my gut. Brief flashes of black stiletto heels and an expensive Chanel perfume stabbed into my mind as I collapsed to the floor. My head hit the doorframe, my consciousness left with my breakfast.

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