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egorodriguez:

Monday: going down
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Senor Montoya waited until the woman with the dog exited into the lobby. He glanced at the operator with a devious smirk. “Room 1209, after 8. I’m up late.” And then he walked out of the elevator without looking back as more guests entered behind him.
Senor Montoya had promised his business partner he would find himself in fewer beds on business trips; but it was Senor Montoya’s last night in London – a perfect reason to indulge oneself. And the operator was good at his job and always cheery, so he did deserve a particularly nice tip. Senor Montoya thought of that full bulge in those tight slacks of the operator’s uniform. There was certainly a nice tip in there for him too.

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Captions are fictional.

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