We strolled down the hall to the elevator. I did not notice what floor we went to, as I was so pre-occupied examining my sexy self in the reflective surface of the elevator. We got off the elevator and walked down the hall to a door marked 469. “This isn’t the dining room,” I objected. “No, this isn’t,” she replied as she knocked on the door. “Who’s room is this.” I asked. Before she could answer, the door swung open and...