Motel Ch. 02


I’d been flat out for eight or nine months and I was beat. When a chance came for a week up on the Gold Coast I jumped at it. I left as early as I could on the Friday evening, driving through the night and most of Saturday, arriving at the Gold Coast in the middle of the afternoon.

It was a blistering hot day when I pulled into my motel. I was sweating like a pig, tired, hungry and thirsty. It was my intention to find my room, have a shower, eat, and retire early, knowing I’d be able to wake early the next day for the first day of a restful week.

I checked in and was handed my key.

“Go out that way and it’s the third door on the right,” the receptionist told me.

I nodded my thanks and went out that way and turned right, counting the doors. Just as I reached the third door it opened and a maid stepped out, lugging a vacuum cleaner with her. I politely held the door for her, nodded at her thanks, and closed the door behind me.

I didn’t bother unpacking. Hot, sweaty, and smelly, I needed that shower. I just dumped my suitcase on the table and headed for the bathroom, stripping as I went. I wasn’t wearing much and I was naked by the time I hit the bathroom door, walking right on in.

When I entered the bathroom I was surprised, but not shocked, to find someone in the shower. It’s an old scam for beach bums and students temporarily short of the ready. You hang around a motel until you see room service going into one of the rooms. You enter at the same time as though you’re the guy renting the room. Room service aren’t going to check your ID. If you wave at them to just keep going they’re happy to do so at it means one less interruption. Meanwhile you take a quick shower and then you’re out of there. No harm done.

I assumed that this was a guy doing the same thing and I flipped open the shower door to tell him to get dried and get out. It wasn’t a guy. It was a lovely young blonde woman and she was really something. That really pale hair and bright blue eyes. She had cherry red lips and a bright red face as she stared at me. She was too surprised to even cover up, not that her hands would have been able to hide breasts like that. She was gorgeous.

It was immediately plain to me that I wasn’t quite as beat as I thought. It also came plain to her, because she looked down and her flush change to a white face so fast I thought she was going to faint. Surprising really. I was nicely endowed, but I wasn’t that large.

She just stood there, everything on display, pointing at me and stuttering, apparently not knowing what to say. I did.

“Hey, don’t get knickers in a knot,” I told her. “I’m just having a shower. I’m not going to jump you right here and now. We can make with the bed buddies after we’re cleaned up.”

She found her voice at that stage.

“Are you nuts? Get out of my room. You can’t just barge in here like this. I’ll report you. Just get out.”

“Whose room?” I asked cynically. “I can just see you going to the receptionist and complaining about being interrupted during your free shower. They’ll just bounce you out on your pretty little bottom. No need to panic, though. If you don’t want to be bed buddies I’m not going to force you. Be a pity though. These are delicious.”

The ‘these’ I referred to were her breasts. I made sure she knew this by touching a nipple lightly, pleased at the way it promptly responded.

“Just get out of my room, and I mean MY room,” she snapped. “We’ve been staying here for a week. My father will kill you if you’re still here when he gets back.”

“Father?” I asked. Staying here with her father? I’d thought she was around nineteen, probably twenty, and a twenty year old probably wouldn’t be going on a holiday with her father. So either she was running a good bluff or there was a mix up in the rooms. How old was she, anyway.

“Ah, just how old are you?” I asked, running my eyes over her delectable body.

“Eighteen,” she said and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Almost,” she added and there was a real “Oh, Shit,” moment.

My magnificent erection drooped with the shock of it. What was worse was she saw it droop and giggled.

“What do you mean, almost?”

“I mean I’m nearly eighteen. Another few days and it’s my birthday.”

Bloody hell. I was back in the main room fast and dressing in my old clothes, not taking the time dry or to get out clean clothes. She came waltzing out of the bathroom while I was scrambling into my clothes, wearing a towel, a smile, and a smug look.

“Have you checked your key yet?” she asked.

“You’re implying that I might have made a mistake?” I asked, almost snarling at her. “Third door on the right I was told and this is it.”

She picked up my key from the table and looked at it.

“One out,” she observed. “You’re next door. That’s the third door on the right.” She jerked her thumb back towards the reception area.

What the hell? I’d counted them. One, two, three. How can you miss a complete door?

“Did you count the reception demetevler escort door as number one?” she asked, blandly looking towards the ceiling, a great smirk on her face.

I bloody hadn’t. Why would I? I’d stepped out and counted out three doors without even bothering to look at the numbers. Idiot.

I grabbed my case and my key, politely apologised for intruding, and left, heading towards my own room. It did nothing for my ego to hear her giggling as I left. Really, had the girl no modesty? She’d been the one caught naked. She should have been blushing and embarrassed, not giggling her head off.

I got my good night’s sleep and woke up feeling refreshed and ready to face my holiday with enthusiasm. I had some breakfast and stepped out, ready to take on the world.

It’s amazing the irritant effect some people can have on you. I was just walking towards the reception area to pick up some brochures about the area when I heard a girl singing. Do you know the ABBA song, Dancing Queen? There’s a line in it that goes ‘Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen’. Whoever was singing started on that line. Not at the start of the song. On that line. I knew damn well who was singing it.

I rose above such a petty annoyance and headed on out. For the next few days I had a good time. I knew some people in the area and I hooked up with them for a while and also visited the tourist traps and the beach, doing my share of flirting with the beach bunnies.

I have to admit that I saw the young lady from the next room several times. She always seemed to have a subtle dig ready. Actually, I don’t suppose you can say that looking pointedly at my groin and then lifting her eyebrows a couple of time is exactly subtle.

And again, walking toward me with arm upright, bent at the elbow, fist clenched. She saw me, put on an exaggerated look of shock, her fist unclenched and her arm drooped limply back to her side. She passed me, giggling her fool head off.

On the fourth day I bumped into her at the reception area. More precisely, she bumped into me before I could dodge.

“Oh, sorry,” she said. “Hey, I bet you wish that today is the day that you arrived.”

I was suspicious. Very suspicious. I didn’t trust the little wretch one solitary inch. I also didn’t respond to her comment. Not that that stopped her.

“Just think. If you’d arrived today and were asking my age I’d have to say eighteen. Who knows what might have happened then.”

Me. I know what might have happened then. And I’m damn sure she did as well, in theory, anyway.

I just politely smiled and wished her a happy birthday.

“Thank you,” she said. “Just think. I’m now eighteen and it’s legal for me to do all sorts of things.”

She took a deep breath as she said that, which incidentally lifted her breasts nicely. I strongly suspect that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could swear I could see the shadow surrounding her nipples. She stretched, highlighting her breasts even more, smiling all the while.

“Well, gotta go, I guess,” she added, and departed, swishing her bottom from side to side as she went.

I have to admit I had a slightly restless night that night. I kept wondering what if she’d admitted to being eighteen while in the shower with me. Would she have fought me off if I’d come on strong? She sure had the look and style of a woman who was ready for some serious male attention.

It was just after nine the next morning when there was a knock on my door. I answered it and she was standing there. She had on a t-shirt with, presumably, a bikini underneath, plainly intending to spend her day at the beach.

“Hi,” she said, smiling happily. “I was wondering if I could prevail on you to do something for me.”

“Possibly,” I said. “First, do you have a name?”

“I’m Donna,” she said. “Can I come in and discuss my problem?”

“Yes, Donna, you can come in,” I said, stepping back from the door. “I’m Jeff, by the way.”

“Mum and dad have gone to a fauna park. I opted to spend the day at the beach. I thought that having the day to myself would give me the chance to do something I’ve been wanting to do. Um, I’m somewhat shy around men.”

You couldn’t prove it by me, was my immediate thought.

“It’s, like, boys, men, have been coming onto me for yonks. Ever since I grew a pair of breasts they’ve been panting around me. It’s scary.”

She patted her breasts to show what she’d grown. No need. I could see them. I could also remember what they looked like when she was naked in the shower.

“The thought of having sex with anyone had me feeling horrified. I mean, I just couldn’t. Then, when you caught me in the shower the other day and the way you backed off as soon as you found I was still underage was funny and cute. You looked so shocked and disappointed. I almost laughed out loud at the look on your face.”

Almost? I could still hear her cackling about it.

“Also, I, um, saw what you had and I wasn’t scared of demirlibahçe escort it. I thought it was fascinating. So, ah, I was wondering, now that I’ve turned eighteen, if would you be prepared to teach me a little about sex?”

She had to be fucking kidding me? Exactly what did she expect me to teach her?

“Just what do you want me to teach you about sex? Shouldn’t that be your mother’s job?”

“What? Don’t be silly. I had that talk ages ago. I don’t want to talk about it. I want you to show me what to do.”

Now there was an invitation that you didn’t hear every day. An eager young virgin wanted me to teach her how to have sex. A pleasure, no? So why did I feel slightly terrified at the idea?

“So you want me to initiate you into adulthood by deflowering you?” I asked, trying to put it politely.

She nodded happily. Mission accomplished. She’d got her message across.

“And if you panic and start screaming, or start crying, or yell rape? Where does that leave me?”

“What? I wouldn’t. Honest I wouldn’t. If I change my mind I’ll just tell you so and we’ll call it quits.”

“That’s easy to say but not so easy to do. What’s to say you won’t change your mind when your cherry gets popped? It can be painful, even with the best intentions, and where taking you to bed is concerned I find that all my intentions are remarkably bad. Evil, almost.”

“OK. If it goes that far I won’t ask you to stop. Fair enough?”

She had to be kidding me. Should I scare her off or take her to bed. It wouldn’t, I decided, be fair to scare her off. She must have had a strong case of nerves when she came and asked and if I turn her down who knows when she’d get the courage to try again. It was up to me to help her. I’m so nice at times it’s sickening.

“OK. As long as you understand that while I’ll try my best I can’t guarantee anything. Why don’t you take off your clothes?”

She blinked and looked at me, slightly startled.

“Your clothes. Off,” I prompted.

“Ah, I thought that you’d take them off once we’d started.”

“We’re starting by you taking your clothes off, knowing that you’re doing it in front of a man who is going to have sex with you. Just think, as you remove each item he’ll be watching, waiting to taste what you reveal.”

She swallowed, and I could see her gathering herself for this ordeal. The t-shirt came of readily enough, showing a nice white bikini under it. Then she dithered, not knowing which bit to take off.

“Pants first,” I suggested, and she bit her lip as she slid them down and stepped out of them. She was also starting to breathe a little harder, the act of stripping starting to excite her.

She turned slightly away from me as she took off her bra, apparently not wanting me to stare at her naked pussy. That was all right. I could wait. Bra off, she crossed her hands over her breasts, still slightly turned away. I reached over and turned her to face me, gently moving her hands away from her breasts. She could tell from the look on my face that I was appreciating what I was seeing.

“OK. Now undress me.”

She was about to protest but I got in first.

“Why not? You’ll want to see what you’re getting.”

She swallowed again and started undressing me, not that I had much on. She had to stretch to lift my t-shirt up over my head, breasts rubbing against me as she did so. I both saw and felt her nipples tightening. She sank down onto one knee to undo my trousers, and I obediently stepped out of them as she drew them down. Then she hesitated as she went to take off my undershorts, casting little glances at the bulge therein.

“You’ve already seen it once,” I observed. “It’s still the same one. It doesn’t change.”

“Yes, it does,” she retorted. “It certainly seemed to cringe and shrink away when we were in the shower.”

She was right, but I wasn’t admitting it. I just waited and she took a grip on herself and pulled down my shorts, pointedly not looking at my erection.

She found herself unable to ignore it for long. I helped her back to her feet and pulled her close against me, the length of her naked body pressed against mine. Her breasts were pressing against my chest and my erection was firmly planted against her tummy where she couldn’t miss it. She was blushing madly, looking rather nervous, so I kissed her.

Our lips locked, with me kissing her gently but thoroughly, while my hands ran over her bare back and finally settled on her bare bottom, holding her firmly against me. She wriggled slightly but all that did was cause her to rub against me, highlighting the differences between our bodies.

I broke of the kiss and leaned a little away from her while keeping her lower half nestled tight against me. One hand on her bottom freed the other to cover one breast, rubbing it firmly before crossing to the other. I massaged both breasts while gently rubbing myself against her groin. Her nipples were well and truly peaked now and, from the way she dikmen escort was reacting, highly sensitive.

I pushed her gently back, breaking contact. I picked up the do not disturb sign from the back of the door and showed it to her, then opened the door, hung it up, and closed and locked the door. Moving back to her I eased her towards the bed, thankful that I hadn’t folded it back into a couch configuration. I settled down on the bed, bringing her with me.

With her flat on her back I started touching her, stroking her breasts, her sides, her tummy, her thighs and legs. Gentle touches, letting her feel my fingertips trailing all over her, learning her body but avoiding her pudenda for the time being. When I say avoiding it, that is not the same as ignoring it. My fingers would trace their way towards it, then drift to one side at the last moment.

The first time that happened, Donna held her breath as my fingers approached, letting it out with a slight gasp when my hand moved elsewhere. The same thing happened the second time. She was expecting it the third time and only moved a little restlessly. Finally she was trying to adjust her body at the last second so that my hand would cross onto her mons.

I let it happen, my hand sliding over her mons, tugging lightly at the few curls she had there, before moving between her legs and closing over her. She gave a little buck at that, pressing herself harder against my hand.

She was already aroused. I could feel the heat coming from her mound as well as feel the wetness along the edges of her lips. I started building on that arousal, one hand exciting her breasts while the other played with her pussy, slowly teasing lips apart before letting my fingers slip into her cleft. I was also drifting little kisses from her breasts down as far as her mons and then back up.

Donna was slowly twisting and writhing under my touch, making little whimpering sounds, her hands clutching at the blankets. Now I suppose I should have directed those clutching fingers to my erection, giving her something to clutch hold of, but thought it wiser not to. The idea was to take her virginity, not show her how fast I could prematurely ejaculate by having her grab my cock. Subsequent lessons we could work on that.

She was responding quite nicely, I thought, starting to want something more, just not knowing what it was she wanted. That was OK. I knew.

I eased her legs further apart, kneeling between her thighs. Leaning forward slightly and my cock was just touching her lips, pressing against that sweet spot where her lips had swelled and parted, letting her inner lips puff out and open. I looked at her face, seeking approval, but I didn’t get it. She was too busy watching my cock, holding her breath and waiting for that first entry. She couldn’t spare the time to look at me.

With her anticipation so plain to see, slightly horrified anticipation, but anticipation all the same, I just had to assume that that was my permission. I pressed forward slightly, the head of my cock forcing her lips to spread a little more while it dived between them and into her wet cleft. Her lips closed around me, holding me, while she made a funny noise.

I felt the barrier she wanted gone, and pushed against it. It gave, but Donna gave a horrified squeal. I paused, past the barrier but not sinking deeper just yet.

“That hurt,” she protested, tears in her eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” I consoled her, “and I’m sorry, but I did warn you. The point is it did hurt, not it is hurting. How does it feel now?”

This brought her mind away from past pain to more immediate feelings. There was a cock inside her. How did it feel?

“Ah, different?” she hazarded a guess, and I smiled.

“Mmm, and now?” I asked, starting to press deeper. She was as tight as could be expected from a virgin, but her natural lubricants were helping to ease my way. Her passage was soft comparted to my hard length, yielding slowly as I moved deeper.

Her eyes were wide and she seemed to be contemplating what was happening, feeling her body being invaded, trying to decide what it was like.

“Um, good,” she gasped. “It feels good.”

“Is that all? I can see I’m going to have to try harder.”

Try harder is what I proceeded to do, continuing to drive into her until our groins were rubbing against each other. My hands slid up and covered her breasts.

“Just move with me,” I murmured. “We’ll take it nice and slow and see if we can do better than ‘it feels good’.”

We had a couple of false starts as she tried to adjust, but then her body was moving in unison with mine. I wasn’t making any grand strokes at this stage, just small gentle movements while she came to terms with a cock sliding about inside her body. She came to terms damned fast, making enthusiastic little noises, and it didn’t take long before she was demanding something more.

“What, this isn’t good enough?” I teased, and she shook her head earnestly, not knowing just what she expected me to do but demanding I do it.

I started making my strokes longer while staying at the same speed. No use giving her everything at once. She calmed down a little, pushing eagerly up against me, both of us enjoying the interaction of body moving against body. She was starting to gasp a little, still not satisfied.

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