Working Vacation Pt. 01

A feminine voice responded, in a nervous stage whisper. "Sorry, can you help me please? I'm in a bit of a situation."

He looked through the peep hole and was shocked to see a brunette with bare shoulders standing out in the hallway. It was Becca, with ringlets of wet hair down around her cheeks. She was staring back into the peephole, biting her lip and bouncing with nerves.

"I, uh, just give me a minute—" Tyler blurted.

He was standing there in his boxers and A-shirt. Should he get dressed, or—?

"Oh please hurry—I can't get in my room!"

The panic in her voice forced his decision. His fingers flew to the locks, and opened the doors. A heavy thunk sound echoed in the corridor.

"Oh, thank you, I tried three other doors and—" As Tyler pulled the door back, Becca rushed past him into the room and turned to see him in the doorway. "—Tyler?!"

"Holy shit," he stuttered. "What happened to you?"

Becca stood beside the bed, wrapped in a white bath towel and, as far as he could tell, nothing else. She was holding an ice bucket and showed it to him. "I went to get some ice," she explained. "I figured it would only take a second but...when I got back to the room, I didn't have my key. I could swear I brought it with me. Obviously though...."

"Why were you getting ice?"

"I just wanted some ice water."

"Before you got dressed?"

"Look, I didn't think it would be a big deal."

"I've got to get going, though. Go ahead and call the front desk. I'm sure they'll help."

"Tyler! I can't go down there like this!"

"Hey, it's okay—don't, um, don't cry," he said. He patted her shoulder tentatively. She was warm and her skin felt silky soft, as if she'd just put on lotion.

She hung her head and moaned, "I don't know what to do."

"Just, um, call them on the phone. You can use this one. Seriously, though, I need to go."

"They won't let me into another room," she said. "They don't even have my name...and it's not like I can prove who I am."

"There's nothing I can do, though," Tyler said. He pulled his khakis up and fastened the belt. "I'm sorry. Can you wait here for a bit? I can...call Greg, maybe? He can come back and let you in the room. We'll tee off without him. It'll be fine."

"No," said Becca. "Uh...maybe I dropped my key? Would you go take a look?" She threw herself into his arms, pushing her head up against his chest. "Please?"

"Becca, really, I..."

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. Her hands gripped his waist and she pushed her chest into his. "Please, Tyler?"

"Uhh," said Tyler. "Fine—but..."

"Don't let me wait here, Tyler. It'll only take a minute."

"Okay."

Tyler walked to the ice machine and back to his room, two times, scanning the intricate pattern on the floor. He came back and told Becca he couldn't find anything, and she insisted he try again—did he look inside the ice machine? Maybe it had fallen...

Reluctantly, Tyler agreed and tried again. All that was in the ice machine was ice. On a hunch, he went past his room to the elevator, and then came back. No luck.

Becca was seated on the bed when he returned. "Any luck?" she asked. She didn't get up.

"No, no luck," he muttered. He went to the minibar, pulled out an orange juice and poured it into a glass for her, then got some ice. "Look, I guess you're probably right about them letting you into another room. I think the best thing we can do is—what's this?"

A key card was sitting at the bottom of the bucket, behind the liner. He pulled it out and showed it to her.

"Oh—shit," said Becca. Her eyes had gone wide. "I—of course. I put the card in the bucket so I wouldn't have to set it down."

"Seriously?"

"Oh my god, yes. I'm so scatterbrained sometimes. Thank you for finding it." Becca crossed to the bureau and put out her hand. "I guess that's that."

Tyler began to place the key in her palm, but snatched it away again at the last moment. "Now, wait a minute. Did you just need an excuse to come to my room?"

"Tyler! As if," she protested. "Come on, I'm already embarrassed. I put it in there because I didn't have a pocket. Besides, how would I know which room is yours? I told you, I was knocking on doors."

"I don't know," Tyler teased her. "Maybe you just like parading around in a towel."

"That's ridiculous," said Becca, but she was smiling. "Aren't you running late for something?"

"Well, hold on," said Tyler. "It's just golf, a few minutes won't matter. I feel like I've been a major help to you this morning."

"Yes, thank you," Becca smirked. "Now, the key...?"

"I can't imagine how long you would've had to stand out there, shivering and nude in the hallway."

"Ha, ha, Tyler."

"No, seriously, don't you think some kind of reward is called for?"

"...let me guess. You want me to flash you."

Tyler perked up. "I—was going to say a kiss on the cheek, or maybe your phone number or coffee or something. But—flashing..."

"Perfect," she retorted. "I'll get you a gift card for coffee."

He gave her a shit-eating grin.

"Fine—" she groaned, and before he knew what was happening, she'd torn open the towel and flapped it back shut again. She was standing so close to him, and she moved so quickly, that all Tyler could say was that she was definitely topless but she was wearing pink panties.

"Hey! I didn't even see anything!"

"There. Now you can go to your silly golf thing that absolutely couldn't wait five minutes."

"Of course it can wait—I just—look, Becca, of course you can have the key. I'm sorry."

He handed it over.

Rebecca looked at it, bit her lip, and paused. "Sit on the bed."

"What?"

"I'll flash you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Becca replied. "Fair's fair. I want to."

Tyler's hesitation vanished immediately, but a look of disbelief lingered on his face. A flutter passed through Becca's stomach. She'd known she was going to toy with him, but seeing him this way was something she could savor. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open; he didn't even seem to be breathing. She could feel the heat in her own cheeks and wondered if she was blushing half as much as he was.

And when he sat down, that bulge in his lap....

Her heart was hammering as she fumbled with the tucked-in corner of the furry bath towel, and nearly dropped it in one go. Tyler didn't even notice. An electric surge of adrenaline flooded through her as she pulled it loose and extended one arm out to the side.

She stood in front of Tyler, cupping the towel against her breast to cover herself. The side of her breast swelled out under the edge of the towel, draping the terrycloth over her belly and legs. Her hands were shaking, and she could feel her heartbeat.

Tyler was devouring her with his eyes. "God, you're gorgeous," he breathed.

Becca just giggled and swung out her hip to give him a better look at the waistband of her panties. Slowly she turned in place to stand with her back to him, and opened the towel up with her other hand.

She let herself enjoy being watched, desired, even while she could barely catch her own breath. One deep, full breath lifted her bosom and settled her nerves. She let her eyes close and held the breath for a four-count, then pushed out the air again and her eyes fluttered open.

She could see him staring at her back, in the mirror. He hadn't realized he could see her face...and everything else. She watched him lick his lips and subconsciously run his palm over his groin and thigh.

Her arms covered her again. Only then did Tyler startle and catch her watching him in the mirror. "Heh," he choked. "Do that again."

"Huh-uh," she whispered back. She turned to face him again. "Take it out. Yeah, do it."

Tyler slid further back on the bed and reclined. He pulled open his shorts and let his member push out though the slit in his red pinstripe boxers. He was hard; the pink tip of his dick glistened with a drop of pre-cum. He smoothed the boxers down to get the shaft to stand up more impressively, watching for Becca's reaction.

Becca arched her brow as she admired his piece -- thick enough, with a slight bit of curve to the left.I've never seen a tall man's dick, was all she could think. And yesterday I'd never met him.

"Touch it," she said. She felt like she barely got the words out, but there was an uncanny confidence in her voice. Where did that come from?

Tyler obeyed, taking the shaft with his fingers and prodding along its length. He crunched his stomach, trying to get a better look at her. He was in a lot better shape than she'd realized, even after seeing him in the pool the night before. Although he was gangly tall, he had ropy arms and lean washboard abs.

Becca planted her feet. The towel was just barely folded in front of her. She nodded as he began stroking, her eyes locked on his while his eyes searched her body, travelling along her ankles and calves, caressing her shoulder and hunting for a glimpse between the folds of her towel.

Another tease, she decided. She pulled apart the ends of the towel—not enough to show nipple, but like a red velvet curtain opening on a live performance. She showed just a streak down between her breasts, down over the smooth slope of her tummy and her panties—pink, with blue polka dots.

As he touched himself, Tyler's focus on holding himself up faded. She watched him fall back on to the pillows, and kept his gaze as—needlessly, since he was cooperating with her plan so willingly—she followed him up onto the bed. She climbed toward him and knelt with splayed legs. The towel dropped from her side; once again, she held it to her breasts with her forearm.

This is happening, she thought.

Tyler rolled his shoulders back into the pillows. He kicked his shorts off and pushed them off the bed. "Show me," he begged.

Rebecca thought she'd be nervous, but it was so easy. Here he was, this lanky, gorgeous stranger, and he wanted her so badly that she could almost feel heat rising off his body. And if Greg hadn't been around, she would have taken him last night.

The towel simply dropped around her waist as she let go and raised her arms behind her head.

Tyler let out a groan. The brunette on the bed with him had fantastic curves -- a perfect hourglass, from the swell of her pendulous breasts, accented by her deep tan areolae, down to the rise of her hip, strapped by the bunched-up band of her panties.

He wanted to get his hand underneath and pull them off from the inside, clutching and caressing her thighs and then stripping her naked.

"Oh my—fuuuck," he groaned. "This is crazy."

"Do it slowly," she said. "I like it."

He slacked his rhythm, and Becca rewarded him by lifting her breasts with her hands and lifting herself up on her knees. Now the towel fell away completely, covering her calves and leaving the delta between her legs uncovered in front of him.

Almost immediately, Tyler began to race again.

"Don't cum," Becca said. "We can have a little fun, if you don't cum."

"Like what?"

Becca straddled him and sat on his thighs. Tyler stopped as she put her hands on the waistband of his boxers, but she told him to keep going. Then she pulled the red-striped cloth down around his waist, until they were around his thighs. Now she had her hands on his hips, and he could feel her thin wrists and delicate fingers holding him in place as he jerked off just inches from her.

The heat between her legs was intense, and she was incredibly soft and smooth. She must have just shaved minutes ago. It was impossible not to wonder...

"Let me see your pussy," he gasped.

"Charmer," she laughed. "I'll show you something else."

Becca leaned over him, reaching for the ice on the side table. Finding herself with her breasts swaying over his chest, she arched her back and let him take her hips with both hands. Tyler's eyes fluttered shut as she pressed herself up against him, touching their chests together, pushing the shaft of his dick against her tummy. He looped his thumbs under the band of her panties.

Becca gave a short giggle, and kissed his jaw, just beneath the ear, kissed his neck, and bit his earlobe. Writhing over him, she whispered in deadly quiet: "I wanna watch you cum."

She grabbed a chip and slicked it with her fingers. Then she towered back up over him. Tyler's attention was locked on Becca as she touched the ice with her tongue, rubbed it across her lips...her breasts...her navel...

Then she touched the ice cube's smooth edge to Tyler's shaft, sending a thrill of torture through his body. By instinct, he let go of her underwear and touched himself. She wrapped Tyler's fingers back around his dick and started him stroking again. Eyes locked together, now Tyler clutched Becca's hip and felt her hand on the back of his.

"Gorgeous," he moaned. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

Becca moaned in reply, and let him work his fingers loose, so that now she was touching his cock and they were masturbating him together. With a sudden flick, she threw his hand aside and succumbed to the inevitable.

"Is this what you want?" she breathed. "You want me to make you cum?"

"I want to fuck you," Tyler growled.

"I bet," she smiled. She leaned forward and locked her elbow over his shoulder, propped up over his chest. She sped up, clutching his shaft and gripping it tightly. Tyler arched his own back now, and got Becca's breath near his mouth. He took her nipple between his lips.

"Mmm," Becca cooed, as he sucked her breast. "I wish we could."

"Come on," he volleyed. "It's just us."

"We can't. We can't get caught."

"We won't."

Becca curled along his side, pressing her breast into his torso and cuddling his thigh with hers. "I wish," she repeated. "I wish we could."

"Oh, mmm," Tyler rumbled. "Let me touch you." With Becca's leg propped on his, he could slide his fingertips under her panties. A close-cropped patch of wiry hair bristled his touch, and Becca moaned as he found her labia, then kissed his chest and tongued his nipple.

Her speed increased. "Mmm, yeah, there," she moaned. "God, what would you do to me?"

"I wanna be so deep inside you," he answer. "I wanna cum so bad."

"Do it," she said. She opened her eyes and locked on his. "Do it for me."

And a crest of ecstasy broke loose and swept up his spine. Her wide eyes, her swift touch, the dark crimson blush on her cheeks and the feeling of her body pressed up against him—he couldn't resist.

Rigid, Tyler fell back on his shoulders, and let it pulse. Cum shot up between them, splattering her breasts, her ribs and Tyler's stomach.

Becca flinched with pleasure when the cum landed on her. "Fuck yeah," she breathed to herself. Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She milked his cock harder, getting it to spit out pulse after pulse of cum between their bodies and over her hand.

She kissed his neck and shoulder. Tyler rocked his hips as her rhythm slowed, savoring her kisses, her warm breath, and the gentle noises of satisfaction she was making.

He nudged her back onto her back, and returned her kisses. He licked his cum off her nipple and took it between his teeth for a moment; her tan little areola was deliciously crinkled. She let go of his cock and scraped a strand of cum off his stomach and put it to his lips.

Cum or not, he wouldn't refuse to put any part of her in his mouth. He licked and stroked her fingers with his tongue, then raised his head and kissed her lips. She could taste his cum.

Becca pulled the towel up between them and wiped their bodies. It was a delicate, oddly sensual touch—he felt bathed by her.

Then the towel was draped over his waist, and Becca's palm was up against his waxed-bare chest, just feeling his muscles. Tyler's own hand now slid back down between her legs, playing lazily with her clitoris.

She could tell he was fading. "You don't have to," she whispered to him under her breath. "Just let's lie here for a few minutes." She curled under his arm and pressed her butt up against his stomach. They were spooned, with his lanky forearm cradling her breasts.

Tyler felt warm, totally comfortable, and had not a thought in his head.

* * *

Tyler didn't realize he was asleep until the sound of the door clicking shut startled him awake. Becca was gone, of course, but her towel was still draped over his midriff. He wondered what she'd taken—or if she had the guts to streak back to her room.

It was past ten-thirty. Golf was out of the question. He should have been furious.

Should have been.

Tyler lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and rethinking his priorities.

* * *