Bree 3 A Trip To The Mountains
- 1 year ago
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A Girl Called Bree In NYC free porn video
You enter the room, closing the door behind you. Hotel rooms are wonderful,
a private sanctuary that offer opportunities with anonymity. You check out
the view and the bathroom, test the super king size bed, enjoy the subtle
touches in the room and switch off the TV with its welcome screen. Its the
combination of spending time in bedrooms whilst in the vicinity of strangers
that give hotels a very special atmosphere.
There's a soft tap at the door, and your luggage arrives. The bell hop
brings the cases in and puts them on the stand. He turns to you, his name
tag says Richard, asks if there is anything else, and to let him know if you
need anything. He's standing really quite close, a little too close, he
smells of deodorant and dry cleaning, his eyes dark blue set in clear white,
does he know ?, has he looked in the cases?, what's going on?, what do you
do?!. You thrust a 10 dollar bill out in front of you, he takes it, smiles
and heads to the door. As he turns the handle he turns says 'Remember I'm
here to help, enjoy your stay Miss' and the door closes. You stand there,
stunned to the spot, Miss did he really say Miss, and was that a wink. No
surely not, its your mind playing tricks on you, that hotel atmosphere
turning on and heightening your anticipation. Finally you snap free of the
moment, consigning it to memory.
You hate living out of suitcases and decide to unpack. One case contains
everything you need for work, sensible conference work clothes and
obligatory smart casuals for colleague meetings and entertainment.
Everything is squeezed into one drawer and you open your suit carrier. First
out the is your suit, quickly despatched to the wardrobe.
Second out is your favourite little black cocktail dress, black satin
overlaid with a fine layer of ornate lace, its absolutely beautiful and you
linger with it holding up against yourself imagining its snug smooth
embrace. You love the way it rises up your legs when you sit down, legs
together to preserve modesty, show off your long fine stocking clad legs.
Next out is the blue dress with flowers flowing down each side, looks
amazing over your curves. You've loved it ever since you saw it online and
it always makes you feel fantastic. Something about the way it clings to
you, accentuates your figure and forces you to take smaller, foot over foot
steps, which in turn makes you sway your hips. Such deliciousness.
Lastly in the carrier is your new matching night gown and robe. The dress is
a rich deep purple with built in bra, spaghetti straps, finished off with
delicate lace trim. It's comes down to mid thigh with a short slit up each
leg. The robe, also detailed with lace comes down just below the dress. You
hold it up against yourself and wrap you spare arm round your waist tipping
your head to one side ... Is that a kiss you feel ...?
You hang the dresses up and lay your lounging items on the bed and open the
second case. Its contains everything else, underwear (taking a pair of
purple bikini cut knickers and putting them on the bed), make up, hair with
inflatable stand, jewellery, perfume etc. You put it all carefully away,
inflate the stand, brush your hair and set it aside.
With unpacking complete, you take off your travelling clothes, stepping out
of your French knickers and camisole that are so comfy for travelling,
getting under the shower, washing away the plane, the recycled breath of 100
strangers, and finally trimming, smoothing, exfoliating until you're
satisfied. Stepping out of the shower, padding yourself dry the heavy soft
towels, you moisturize thoroughly and sit at the dressing table. You have a
number of styles and you settle on a glamorous, sex kitten look, with false
eyelashes and rich red lips.
40 minutes later you're relaxing on the bed in your matching night gown and
robe, freshly softened, hair resting on your shoulders, the taste of
lipstick, reading a magazine on your iPad, and feeling delightfully
feminine. You tap the screen with your false nails and flip through the
articles. You sign into Flickr and read the latest comments from your
admirers. You look at feeds of the girls you follow, taking inspiration from
their poses.
A look at the clock shows that you haven't eaten in hours. You could raid
the minibar for snacks but you really should have a proper meal. Picking up
the room service menu you decide on a chicken salad, and half bt of chablis
to wash it down. You ring down, placing the order, asking for the tray to
be left at the door ...
15 mins there's a tap at the door and a quiet room service. You pad silently
to the door in your heels and say, "Leave it there I'm just having a
shower." The response comes back, "Sorry but I need a signature." Oh no,
really, you contemplate how long it will take you to get changed. You push
the cover over from the spy hole and look through. It's Richard and he says,
"Sorry but I need you to sign for your meal, Miss." Heart pounding,
knickers tightening, head light, you're struggling to think. Beyond the
control of your mind something else takes over, moving your hand with long
painted nails toward the handle and you find yourself opening the door
slowly. One hand rests on the frame and one on your hip, draped in satin and
lace, saying in your softest voice, "Well you'd best come in then." ... The
previously confident flirtatious boy stands open mouthed before visibly
gathering himself and entering the room.
You lead the way, swaying and gliding, your back to him, the hems of your
dress and robe mesmerising him. He puts the tray down and opens the wine
with shaking hands. You walk back toward him, a ten dollar bill held out in
front of you, his eyes locked on your breasts. Reaching him you invade his
personal space, letting him drink in your aroma, feel your breasts press
into him, leaning in closely, smelling his nerves, tucking the money into
his shirt pocket like an overdressed pole dancer, your thigh between his
legs, and gently lightly kissing his cheek. You take the pen, squiggle a
line on the bill then take hold of his wrist and write the room number on
his cuff with a couple of kisses. He moves back, slightly bending at the
waist, turning the door knob and opening the door. "See you soon sweetie."
You almost breath and give a little wave before the door closes ...
What have you done ?
15 mins later and the phone rings.
Slowly you pick it up and slowly, quietly say, "Hello."
Fawn
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