red velvet room (m.j.)

Prologue

"Desperation is a bitch. Greed is an addiction."

***

During late hours in Lower Manhattan, the empty suburb becomes utterly quiet as the humble residents slept through the eerie night, undisturbed.

Crickets softly chirped in the distance to fill in the awfully dead silence outside as the big old man living in forty-two lane snored heavily on his comfy double king sized bed.

Their specialised song can be heard across the entire street if one's awake, though, no one bothered waking up from such miniatures. Not that we were aware of just yet.

Each of the lights in these tiny apartments were all switched off. No beam to cast even a single shadow.

All except for one perfect rectangular shaped window that was placed on the fourth floor of Mrs Major's lot, the apartment home's landlord lady. Its doors were wide open, allowing fresh air to breeze inside the tiny room and white curtains flying out along with the wind.

The room did belong to a girl who recently grew up to become a true lady. She is, after all, only twenty-one years young, and studying hard in college. In fact, we can see her sitting by that very window sill right now, with a chunky textbook entitled, "Understanding Business Management and Economics" by Sarah P. what's-her-face in her hands. A chewed black ballpen rested behind the flap of her right ear, patiently waiting to be used again for when taking notes on her notepad, that rested comfortably on page one hundred and fifty-four. The poor girl must be doing last minute revision for her mid-term finals that was coming very soon. We must not bother her.

But as much as he was denying his persistency, Michael has been watching her from his Lamborghini, alone, with his windows rolled down, and wishful for something more than just looking up into her apartment like somebody's Prince Charming.

He was a desperate motherfucker.

Desperate to have his trembling troubled fingers tracing, feeling the smoothness of her light olive skin. Desperate to taste her naturally pink lips, as well as her second pair from downstairs. Desperate to feel her cum into his mouth, releasing her sweet juices onto his sensitive taste buds. Desperate to have his throbbing dick inside her heated tightness, stroking her silky walls to perfection.

Just thinking about it made Michael's Levi's jeans uncomfortably tight around his groin, begging for a release. Michael cursed at his crotch as he heavily breathed inside his vehicle, questioning himself, "Why me? Why her?"

Personally knowing Michael, he didn't have a preference when it comes to girls. He didn't have to choose for Christ's sake.

Whether they were black, white, Asian, large, petite, have big breasts or a small ass, he would fuck them all. For as long as they have kept him interested enough to get him into a dirty mood, by dressing up in the right clothes, talk in a certain way, and most importantly, know when the other party's in it to win it. Michael will have his way with them, and that usually is when the fun really begins.

Unfortunately for the women, when the next morning comes, Michael is not very much a morning person, and becomes easily tired of them. Michael's way of not disappointing his sluts was by giving them a job at the hotel that will save their fortune for a lifetime. Most of them accepted the job because of the amount of pay they will get per year, but they also wanted to get close to him. Sometimes he would call one of them up to be in his room, but only if you were lucky.

But it was this girl, this girl whose name we remain to anticipate, has caught Michael's attention somehow, and all of his interests in other girls have vanished, they were now faceless to him.