Charlene on the Street Ch. 01

The phone woke up Charlene.

Sunlight was streaming in the windows and the clock radio said 9:23. She felt sleepy but not hung over. She was naked, all wrapped up in tangled sheets, with a crusty film on her long, tanned legs, between her legs, and on her generous tits. Her pussy tingled. She had to pee. She didn't know where she was.

The phone rang again.

Now it came back to her. She was in a hotel room. She had gone there with a guy she met at the club. She flopped over and extended her arm, but there was no one there. Not a guy, not girl.

She picked up the phone on the third ring.

"This is the front desk. Could you tell us how much longer you'll be, ma'am?" The voice sounded impatient.

"I dunno" she slurred. "I just woke up."

"Well ma'am, we don't usually hold rooms open for guests after they have checked out. You've had over an hour. You'll have to leave now."

"Look, ... I don't know, ... I'll get up and see what's what." She wondered if she was really alone in the room. She hung up before the voice at the other end could object.

She raised her head and looked around. The door to the bathroom was open. There was no one else in the room. She didn't see any sign that someone had left and was coming back.

She felt a little anxious. She sat up and looked around for a message or something. Sometimes the men she went out with thought she was such a good fuck they left money behind, even though she wasn't a hooker. There was nothing. Not even her clothes.

The phone rang again.

"Miss, listen, you've got to leave now. The room is not yours anymore. The bill... "

She interrupted him before he could tell her about the bill. "Does breakfast come with the room?" No, she was informed coldly. She didn't know if she had any clothes, let alone money. "OK, OK, just give me a few minutes and I'll get out of here. You can have your" she paused "room back." No point in antagonizing him with obscenities.

After she hung up, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. The sheets smelled like sex. Her pussy smelled ripe after last night. There was a dry stain under her butt. She sniffed her armpits and smelled old sweat. That must have been some party.

Then she caught a whiff of masculine scent, a hint of faded cologne, mixed in with all the sex odors. A memory came back to her from the night before.

* * *

Charlene and her new date had to walk two blocks to get to his new Corvette. But Charlene wasn't dressed for any walk on the street. Her tight, short, clingy knit dress showed everything she'd got to anyone who looked and wasn't warm enough for nighttime. Now that she was walking on the street in the little thing and she was cold. Her nipples stood straight out. Everyone could see her erect nips and she was getting goosebumps. Like a true gentleman, he took off his trench coat and put it on her. He cinched up the belt for her, copping a feel in the process.

Even wearing his trench coat over the skimpy knit dress, she still looked hot. Her bare dancer's legs drew attention and her stacked figure still showed under the oversized coat. The guy at the newsstand stared at her as she walked down the street and people who passed them looked over their shoulder. Charlene was a very attractive woman and right now she held a special allure, visible in her walk and her expression, because she was horny after the midnight set at the club.

Since coming to LA and making her career in dancing, only one thing really surprised her -- how hot it still made her to be ogled onstage by dozens of horny men. When she got carried away with the music and the gyrations and the dancing and the steamy come-ons and, above all, exposing herself to a room of men, that's all that mattered.

They drove longer than she expected to this little hotel. She had thought he was just taking her to a cheap motel but this place was nice. She was giggling and feeling fine, even though she hadn't had that much to drink. In the car he had slipped his free hand under the trench coat and put it on her bare knee. She responded by pulling open the front of the trench coat. He ran his fingers up her thigh. She pulled up the front of her skimpy knit dress. He gave her cunny a little rub through the damp fabric of her panties, fingering her through the cotton panties. It felt so good to be felt up. She was getting getting wetter and wetter.

In the hotel parking lot he slipped his hand under her panties. He patted her pussy and inserted his finger into her slit. She said "let's get a bed and fuck". She pulled down her dress and closed the trenchcoat to make herself presentable to walk through the hotel lobby.

* * *

She got up on unsteady legs and wobbled to the bathroom. To her great relief she saw her little brown knit dress crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed, on top of her rather battered high-heeled shoes. It was so little it looked like a sweater. At least she had something to cover her nakedness, even if it was obscenely skimpy and gaped in front. She looked in the mirror. Her dirty blonde hair was stringy from sweat and needed washing. She looked at the shampoo and thought about washing her hair with it but it would stay wet too long. There wasn't a dryer in the bathroom.

She relieved herself, then stepped in the shower. It was already wet, so her guy from the previous night must used it this morning. Soap was in the dish and she washed herself, taking great care to scrub between her legs. That part felt good and she wanted to masturbate but there was no time. She toweled off and stepped back into the room. This time she saw her panties lying in a corner, all twisted and stiff like they had been starched. Maybe he had come in them or used them to wipe himself. They weren't clean and they scratched at first when she put them on. She reached down and picked up the little brown knit dress and pulled it on over her head, then put on her heels. That was all she had in the way of clothes and it wasn't much.

She sat back down on the bed. No purse, no money, no coat. She was hungry. What would she do? She couldn't pay for the bill and she couldn't eat breakfast. She wasn't sure she could even go out in public in the clingy, skimpy dress. Well, not much choice.

The phone rang again and she decided not to pick it up. Instead, she glanced once more around the room to see if she had missed something in her morning fog. No, she had everything she could remember having. She stepped out into the corridor and walked unsteadily down the stairs to the hotel lobby.

They were not pleased to see her at the front desk. With her tight brown dress showing every curve, nipples pointing, stringy blonde hair, high-heeled shoes all wrong for the time of day and no stockings, she was not the kind of guest they were hoping to attract. They ran a decent establishment, you could see them thinking. You don't belong here, they said with their eyes.

"We've got something for you, miss." He fairly hissed the word miss.

The phone rang and he turned to pick it up. "Don't go anywhere," he barked. The desk clerk stared at her as he spoke. She didn't like his attitude. She wasn't going to wait around. For what? For him to call her a whore? For him to give her the bill? For him to call the police and have her arrested because she couldn't pay the bill? Could he do that? She decided not to hang around to find out.

Someone called out to the desk clerk and he turned around, cradling the phone on his shoulder. While his back was turned she ducked out the door.