tagMind ControlA String of Minor Disasters Ch. 02

A String of Minor Disasters Ch. 02

byJBEdwards©

This story follows the story "A String of Minor Disasters," but it can be read independently. There are not so many minor disasters in this story, but to have it linked to the earlier one, I had to use the same title. In any event I hope you like it!

Warning: This story contains a first time experience, bondage, voyeurism and group sex.


*********************

I could not believe it. What am I paying for, anyway? You book a room at one of the ultra-premium hotels in New York in the height of summer and the air conditioning fails? What indeed are you paying for, anyway? Don't give me that Consolidated Edison shit about the power failing. Where is your back-up generator?

Okay so the steam tunnels exploded thereby rupturing the power supply. What are you going to do about it? Nothing? Find me a room you idiot at another five-star hotel, and do it yesterday! Don't give me that shit that they're all full! I don't care about the UN General Assembly meeting or anything else. What the f**k am I paying for anyway?

I took a cab to the Harvard Club. They were full of course, but I used their WIFI to check out the other great hotels in New York. A room was not to be had at any price! What is this, a conspiracy?

The woman at the desk of the Harvard Club was apparently accustomed to frustrated people who were rude, and my bad behavior did not flummox her. First she suggested I try the University of Pennsylvania club.

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "I went to Harvard. Penn? Are you serious?"

"Well then, how about a Bed and Breakfast? They attract a different kind of clientele, and sometimes they may have a room when the luxury hotels don't," she said, still being courteous even in the face of my ugly behavior.

I had to confess that it would not have occurred to me to try a Bed and Breakfast in Manhattan. Maybe in some remote rural spot, like the Fingerlakes in upstate New York perhaps, but not in New York City. I thanked her for her suggestion and got busy.

There looked to be a nice B&B in Chelsea that got rave reviews on Trip Adviser. It was called The Twilight House and it received five stars across the board. I figured f**k the web and the telephone so I just took a taxi directly there. I wanted to see the place before I committed myself. I immediately met with the Innkeeper, a statuesque woman named Beatrice. I explained I was desperate.

I was in New York on business and my presentation in the morrow held my entire future in the balance. I desperately needed a place where I could get a good night's sleep! Okay, I took a bit of dramatic license and exaggerated just a bit. You know how it is.

"Like everyone else, we're completely full. There are three large conventions and the UN General Assembly. Even so, perhaps I can arrange something if you are flexible?" Beatrice said.

"Pray tell, Madame," I said.

"We have a very special room, The Eros Room. In general, we do not rent it to first time guests. We only rent it to repeat customers, and only if I can think they can handle it, you see," Beatrice said.

"I'm afraid I don't see. Is it available or not?" I asked. "If it is, I would love to rent it for five nights. The cost is not an issue." As I spoke these words I could see that Beatrice was sizing me up. She was also checking out my body like she was a man choosing what woman he would try to lay that night. It was weird. It was creepy.

"There's currently a lovely young woman booked in the room beginning in a few days. You can have it to yourself this evening and the next. Perhaps by then another room will open up and if you do not mind, we could move you to the other room. The other woman is named Ashley and she hails from Arkansas. Perhaps the two of you could share the room if it comes to that in a couple of days? I'm afraid that's all I can offer you, my dear," Beatrice said.

"There's two beds?" I asked. I never share rooms, but this was an emergency.

"No, just one Queen size bed, I'm afraid," she said.

"And you've asked this other woman, Ashley?" I said, surprised, because when could she have asked the other woman?

"No, but I'm sure she'll agree," Beatrice said. "She listens to the nymphs and they'll tell her to share."

"I'm sorry?" I asked. This was the second time the innkeeper appeared to be speaking nonsense. This however was bleeping strange nonsense.

"Basically, do not worry, my dear. Would you like to see the room?" Beatrice said.

**********

I was surprised by my reaction. Only minutes after I entered the room I knew I absolutely had to stay inside it. The artwork was exceptional, and the collection of dildos on the pillows intrigued me. I fell in love instantly with the room. It called to me somehow. This sounds strange, but the room seemed to speak directly to my soul. It also spoke to my darkest, most secret, desires. I had never been in any room, anywhere, that was like this room.

Beatrice explained that the dildos belonged to the hotel and they were cleaned after every guest, "of course." They were provided free of charge to guests of the Eros Room. She showed me the vibrator too, tucked away neatly in the nightstand drawer.

"The dildos are provided even to male guests?" I asked.

"Yes, of course," Beatrice said, and only then did the lightbulb in my head illuminate.

"Of course," I mumbled in agreement.

I put my suitcase in the room and went to dinner. When I returned later I saw there was cake, cookies, and port wine available for guests. How nice! Too bad I was on my perennial diet. The cake in particular looked really good. A little taste wouldn't hurt, right?

I took the thinnest slice the knife would cut for me. Then I had a second. I cut a third. A man also staying at Twilight House was watching me and he said, "Isn't that less satisfying than cutting a nice good-sized piece from the get-go?"

I don't embarrass. I turned to look at him and said, "No. This way it's less fattening."

"Of course, it is," he said, smiling broadly. He stuck out his hand, "Moses," he announced.

"Miriam," I said. "I guess we're brother and sister."

Clearly Moses did not get my joke. I hate explaining jokes. "The Bible. Miriam is Moses' sister in the Bible."

"Right," Moses said. I knew he would keep his distance from me after that. He probably thought I was 'one of those.' I wasn't, you know. I just knew lots of shit. He got a strange smile on his face. He was clearly checking me out. I enjoy it when men check me out. It doesn't happen that often back home in Indiana.

"So, we're brother and sister? Do you like Biblical incest?" Moses said.

Now it was my turn to give him a wide berth. I smiled, said goodnight, and went upstairs to the Eros Room. He walked up the stairs right behind me.

"You're staying in the Eros Room? I've never even seen it. Mind if I take a look? It has quite a reputation," Moses said.

"What do you mean, 'quite a reputation'?" I asked.

"Everyone who stays in it ends up having sex," he said, and he practically drooled over the possibility of enjoying my body, or at least that's what it seemed like to me just then.

"I'm sure that's not true, Moses. Goodnight," I said and the way I said the word 'goodnight' was definitive, or so I thought.

"Just a peek in the room? Please? Pretty please?" Moses entreated.

"With sugar on top?" I asked.

"Absolutely," came the reply.

"Sure," I said, "Just a peek is okay," and I opened the door, gesturing for him to enter. I came in too and to my surprise the door immediately closed, seemingly of its own volition. As Moses wandered around the room checking the numerous little details, I stared at the full wall sized painting of water nymphs and centaurs in a beautiful pastoral setting. It captured my attention. I became riveted to it.

One of the water nymphs looked straight at me. Her eyes followed me as I moved about the room. I was impressed. Apparently, the artist had used the trick Leonardo da Vinci used with the Mona Lisa where her eyes follow you around as you move. Here, however, it was not just the water nymph's eyes, it was her entire head that was moving to follow me as I moved.

As Moses became lost among the books of the bookshelf I felt as though words from the nymph were entering my ear.

"Moses, do you hear a water nymph from the painting speaking to us?" I asked. I was just a bit freaked out by my hallucination.

Moses seemed not to hear me. He was lost in the book The Story of O. I noticed he was reading the French version. I went over to Moses and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Time for you to go, my friend," I said.

"Oh, yes, yes, of course. Thank you for letting me see the room. Maybe I'll see you at breakfast," he said.

"Yes, maybe," I said. He would have to be an early riser to see me at breakfast, but who knew if he was or not?

With Moses gone I went over to the painting. I was disturbed by the illusion of having a nymph from the painting speak to me. I stood only inches away from the painting and stared at it. As I stared at it one nymph glided over to another nymph. They began to converse.

"She's a virgin," the first nymph said.

"That complicates things. Is her hymen intact?" the second one asked.

"No, it's long gone. I think she's never had a climax given to her by another person."

"Excuse me," I interrupted my own hallucination of the two nymphs conversing. "Are you speaking about me?"

"You can hear us?" the first nymph asked.

"It's my hallucination, so yes, I guess I can," I replied.

"Remarkable! She's just like Ashley!" the second nymph remarked, now turning to stare at me.

"She's not a true submissive like Ashley, though. Plus, she's afraid of sex. This one will be a challenge," nymph one said.

"More's the fun," the second one said. The two nymphs giggled.

I was worried. I had never hallucinated before. I was taking some new meds for my migraine headaches and I wondered if this could be a side effect? The hallucinations were so vibrant, so real! Maybe that's often the case with hallucinations? I would have to go online later and look into that.

I was already angry at my doctor for prescribing the meds and not warning me about the hallucinatory side effects! He would get a piece of my mind when I returned. I made a mental note to go online and see if hallucinations were listed as a side effect. They should be!

I changed into my nightgown. As I undressed, after my hallucination, for modesty I turned my back to the painting. That was false modesty, because there was a ceiling mirror over the bed and using optics I could tell the nymphs and centaurs of the paintings would see my nude body in the reflection of both the wall mirror and the ceiling mirror. That is, of course, if the nymphs of the painting, begin animated by my hallucinations, would use the two mirrors to examine my naked body. How ridiculous I was being!

Get a grip! I thought. I'm worried about exposing myself to a painting?? I was being a baby. I put on my nightgown. The nymphs were right. I had never had sex and I was indeed afraid of it, except of course in my fantasies which tend to run on the wild side. I think the more sexually frustrated a person is, the richer and wilder her fantasy life becomes.

One of my many concessions to my chaste but sexy fantasy life is to have and to wear a sexy nightgown. It's very short, a little transparent, and offers great peekaboo glimpses of my boobs. This benefits nobody of course, since nobody sees it. The lone is exception is myself in my own imagination. I faced the painting, saying "I hope you like my nightgown." Silence met my remark. Good. Maybe the hallucinations were over!

I checked out the room. I found the book Moses had been leafing through, "The Story of O." I had heard of it. It was a 1950s version of Fifty Shades of Grey but much more hardcore. I took it to bed with me and fell asleep engrossed in the book and its images of bondage and submission.

I had the most erotic dream of my life. This time I was not being gangbanged or cleverly seduced, or even raped, but instead this sweet young thing, looking exactly like the water nymph of the painting who had been speaking to me earlier, climbed into my bed and began to eat me out. My first ever cunnilingus experience was in a dream! In my dream I was driven to an orgasm and it was a truly powerful one. What a wonderful dream! I slept wonderfully after that dream until suddenly at 3:30AM I was wide awake.

I felt a compulsion to go downstairs to the sitting room and imbibe a little more of the delicious port wine. In a half-awake daze I tiptoed down to the sitting room. Everyone was asleep and the Twilight House was as silent as a tomb and I did not want to disturb anyone. I entered the sitting room only to see Moses sitting there, a glass of port wine in his hand.

"Couldn't sleep either, Miriam?" Moses asked.

I don't embarrass easily. I know, because I should have been embarrassed as I was barely dressed in my revealing nightgown. It was the type of nightgown a wife might wear in the bedroom to re-ignite the marital flames of her husband. Moses seemed not to need any help at all in igniting his flames! He already had a lump growing in his pajama pants.

"I slept wonderfully. I've never slept so well before," I said.

"Then why are you down here, pray tell?" Moses asked.

"I felt a sudden compulsion to have some more of that delicious port wine," I said.

"Allow me, my dear," Moses said, and he grabbed the bottle of port. He poured me a healthy glass and topped off his own.

"Thank you. Here's to your good health," I said, raising my port wine in the gesture of a toast.

"And yours," Moses joined. We clinked, and we drank. We drank some more. We were both silent and just looked into each other's eyes as we drank. I could not turn my gaze away. It was as if Moses' face was all consuming. Nothing else was worth looking at.

Moses in contrast let his eyes occasionally wander to the peek-a-boo parts of my nightgown to get glimpses of my breasts. His eyes would then quickly return to mine.

Moses finally spoke and broke the spell. "You know, I think the artist got something wrong in the painting on the wall of your room," he said.

"It's an amazing painting," I said.

"Yes, it is," Moses agreed. "It almost exerts power over a person."

"You noticed, too?" I asked. "The painting speaks to me."

"To me as well, but something's wrong with it," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"It's the breasts of the nymphs. They don't fall the way a real woman's breasts fall," he said.

"Really? I had not noticed," I said.

"Let's go to your room then. I'll show you," he said.

"Okay," I said, although at the time I thought this was strange. Was I really inviting a man to my bedroom in the middle of the night, dressed only in a flimsy, highly alluring nightgown?"

We walked to The Eros Room in silence. I opened the door and Moses walked right in. I followed.

"By the way, Miriam, you look beautiful in your nightgown," he said.

"Thank you," I said.

"Your partner must ravish you whenever you wear it," he said.

"I don't have a partner," I replied.

"How lovely! Neither do I," Moses said.

"I don't see anything wrong with the painting," I said.

"If you don't mind, you could remove your nightgown and we could compare how your breasts fall with those of the nymphs. I'm sure you'll see the difference," Moses said.

"If I do that I'll be naked in front of you," I said, in a rather matter of fact manner.

"Is that a problem?" he asked.

"Well, it's improper, isn't it? A woman undressing in front of a man she just met a few hours earlier? And in a hotel room where the double bed is the dominant feature? Rather suggestive, wouldn't you say?" I said.

"First of all, it's a Queen size bed. Not a double bed," he said.

"Really? That's your reply to what I just said?"

Moses smiled. "No, I was just teasing. My real reply is that yes, I guess it is suggestive. It would however answer the question. Two questions, moreover," Moses said.

"The one about the painting, yes, I suppose it would answer it. What is the other question?" I asked.

"Are your breasts as beautiful as I imagine them to be," he said.

I giggled. "You're a flatterer, mister. Reality is never as good as the imagination. You'd be disappointed."

"Prove it, then," he said.

At that moment a nymph from the painting seemed to enter my head and she tried to take control of my mind. I have no other explanation for what happened.

I said, "Okay," and I slowly lowered the nightgown until my boobs were exposed. I could not believe I was doing this! It happened so quickly, just as I felt an overwhelming compulsion to obey whatever Moses ordered me to do. I was shocked at myself. It was as if I were a spectator watching myself expose my boobs to Moses.

"The answer to the second question is yes. Your boobs are just as beautiful as I imagined them to be. Forgive me for this," Moses said, as he approached me and kissed me.

I had not been kissed for over a year, and I had never been kissed so wonderfully before. The nymph told me to put my arms around his neck and to drop my hold on the nightgown. I complied. The nightgown fell, pooling at my feet.

Moses and I stood there, kissing, for quite some time. When we finally came up for air, I realized that somehow Moses had become naked below the waist and his erection was spectacular. He led me to the bed and he lay me down on my back. He pushed slightly at my thighs and my legs parted like the Red Sea had done for his namesake. He got on the bed between my legs and kissed my boobs, then tweaked my nipples, and then resumed kissing my lips.

My breathing changed and I was scared. A better word to describe how I felt just then is that I was terrified. I was too afraid to speak. I just lay there kissing Moses as his lower body adjusted.

I felt this pressure and then his erect cock slipped inside me! OH MY GOD a man had entered me for the first time in my life! My goodness, it felt wonderful. I could not believe how good it felt. He began to pump and it felt better and better. I began to kiss him more frantically and my body rose up to meet his thrusts.

"Oh, Holy Moses this feels so good!" I managed to say in between gasps of pleasure as his cock pumped inside me like a car's pistons in its engine. I had not intended the pun but what the hell I acted as though I had. I could see a smile form at his lips.

I could not believe I was making love. I was having intercourse. Oh God Damn It, Miriam, just say it! I couldn't believe I was actually fucking! FUCKING! After all these years, somehow in this Eros Room, with the strange painting and its talking nymphs, the magical port wine, Moses himself, and everything combined had led to my getting laid for the first time in my life.

Of course, every woman has a first time. In that sense I was just like every other woman under the sun. How many women, though, have their first time when they're 28 years old, and with a man they had met only hours earlier? How many? Well quite frankly I don't know, but it's surely not a lot.

It just felt so good! I could feel the arousal building and building. It was heading towards a boiling point. Was I going to climax during my first ever fuck? God, I hoped so! Oh no, what's happening? Moses has stopped and he's plunged in all the way inside me. Deep, way deep inside me!

Oh, oh! - he's ejaculating inside me! Oh no, this can't be! What if I get pregnant? Oh, my goodness it feels so wonderful. He's doing it again! And again! Wow, it feels so special when he does that.

Aaah. He's done. Well, I didn't cum, but it was wonderful. It was totally, completely wonderful. It feels so nice to have his exhausted body resting on me, squashing my boobs in such a sexy, precious way. My man. He wanted me. He had wanted me from the get-go with his incest remark after my Miriam and Moses one. I knew that. I guess I had played along. I guess maybe I had wanted him, too?

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