Chelsea Enjoys Being a Tour Guide

It wasn't a great climax, but it was good enough to satisfy me. I'd chosen well. He'd been eager and enthusiastic, and because he couldn't believe his luck, that somebody like me wanted to have sex with him, he'd been determined to show his gratitude by making me come. Thankfully, he'd been successful, and on a scale of one to ten it had been a seven, but when he asks, and I know that he will, because he's a nice guy I'll make his day by telling him that it was a nine. And so when he leaves me, it will be with his head held high, proud of himself because of what he's done.

However, surprisingly, he didn't, but he did ask a different question, one that many men in this situation have asked me before. And as always, it was going to be a no.

"Can I see you again?"

I'm a kind-hearted person so I always let them down gently. While giving him my best smile, and tenderly stroking his arm, I shook my head. He took it well, doing his best to hide the disappointment, but he couldn't fool me. I could see it in his eyes.

After giving a deep sigh, he said, "I'm leaving in the morning. If only we'd got together sooner."

Then he left, to go back to his wife.

I poured myself another glass of the very expensive wine that he'd brought with him, and then I smiled. I'd only allowed him to come to my room because he was leaving in the morning!

To understand that cryptic remark you need some background information.

I'm Chelsea, and at twenty three years old I'm in the prime of my life. My body will never be better than it is now. My big tits are firm, with the nipples still pointing upwards, and my pussy, even after a lot of sex, hasn't lost any of its tightness. That should be enough for any woman, but I'm fortunate, I have more to offer. I'm beautiful. And that's not just my biased opinion, men have said that to me often.

Of course, because I'm attractive, with a charming demeanour, I get a lot of attention from men. All of it is welcome, but only a select few are lucky enough to have me. It's because I'm very particular. Older men turn me on. For me to be interested, you need to be at least forty years old, and preferably, in your fifties. As far as I'm concerned, youth is overrated. I prefer my lovers to have experience, both in life and in the bedroom. Men my own age are usually more concerned about their needs, rather than the needs of their partner, whereas older men tend to be more generous lovers. It's important to them that their partner is satisfied.

However, as much as I enjoy my liaisons with men, I don't want a relationship. For now, one-night stands are enough for me. That used to be a problem, having to constantly find suitable older men, but not anymore. My current job brings me into contact with more than enough of them!

I started working at The Paradise Resort just over a year ago, and I soon discovered that it was the perfect job for me. I'm a Tour Guide at the resort. We are at the top end of the leisure industry, catering for wealthy people that want to stay at our luxurious mansion, where, for an eye-watering amount of money, they will be pampered. It's situated in the South of England, in a rural area, but not far from numerous tourist attractions. It's my job, as a Tour Guide, to accompany them when they go to those places, so that I can dazzle them with all the facts and figures about the attraction that they are visiting. Without wanting to boast, I must say that I am rather good at it.

Our clientele is mostly middle-aged couples, and that's easy to explain. Most young people can't afford it. A lot of them have been together for a long time. They're still in love, but over time, the intensity and excitement of the sex has diminished. That's to be expected, and most of the women accept it. However, a lot of the men still yearn for what it was when they were younger.

Those are the men that I choose!

I take my time. To me, it's a game, and it's one that I like to win. I flirt with them, but not overtly. I make it clear, but in subtle ways, that I'm attracted to them. If I get a favourable response from them then I continue. It culminates, on their last night at The Paradise Resort, with us becoming lovers.

So, my latest conquest, the one who has just left my room, will, together with his sour-faced wife, be leaving in the morning. That avoids any complications. And for the next few days, perhaps even weeks, when he's with that woman, that nothing seems to please, he'll be thinking about our brief time together, and that will put a smile on his face.

The next day I was up early, eager to get to work, and even more eager to continue my pursuit of Edward, the next man that I wanted to seduce. He was definitely interested in me, but he was proving to be quite a challenge. The problem was that he wasn't as desperate as they normally are, that was because he has a wife that was only twenty five years old. And it pains me to say, that she was probably more beautiful than me. However, I do have bigger breasts than her. That should help, but it will be my personality that wins him over. I don't want to be unkind, but to be brutally honest, his wife is an airhead. I've talked to her and it was painful. If I was him I'd lock her in a cupboard, only taking her out at night so that we could fuck. When we'd finished she'd be back in the cupboard, preferably with a gag on to stop her talking!

I didn't see him until he was on the coach. He was sitting on an aisle seat with his wife next to him. Today's destination was a medieval castle. As soon as we set off I stood in the aisle, microphone in hand, to tell everybody about the day's itinerary. I'd deliberately stood near to him, so close, that my leg was almost touching his. My skirt was short, on the limit of what the company allowed, so I was displaying a lot of leg. And of course, he was taking the opportunity to admire the view. As I was finishing, I moved closer to him, putting my leg briefly against his knee. I glanced at him, and he was smiling.

If we'd been alone then I would have done more than that, perhaps even being bold by sitting on his lap. But for now, with his wife sitting next to him, that was enough to keep him eager.

An hour later we arrived at the castle. During the visit to it his wife was always with him, except for a brief period when she went to powder her nose. That was my opportunity to talk to him without her being there.

"I hope you are enjoying your stay with us?"

"I am, and I'll be giving it a good review."

There was more small talk, all completely innocent, but within our casual conversation there was sexual tension. When I saw his wife approaching, but still far enough away so that she couldn't hear me, I moved closer to him, and then I said, "My room at the resort has a great view of the countryside, you should come and see it. Tomorrow evening is better for me. Is eight o'clock OK? It's room 410."

Then, without waiting for an answer, I walked away so that I could mingle with the other guests.

For the rest of the day I kept my distance from him. I'd invited him to my room, not to admire the view from the window, but to have sex with me. He wasn't stupid so he knew that. It was now for him to decide if he was going to accept my generous offer, or if he was going to remain faithful to his wife.

The next day I'd didn't have a tour, but Edward and his wife did. They spent the day walking in the nearby hills with another Tour Guide, while I was at my desk catching up on paperwork. That's the part of the job that I hate, and I always leave it until the last minute before doing it.

I finished at six o'clock, and then I showered. By seven, I was ready, but was all my preparation going to be in vain? It was a difficult one to call, and it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't turn up.

When it got to eight thirty, and he still hadn't arrived, I shrugged my shoulders, and then I muttered under my breath, "You can't win them all."

I was disappointed, but it wouldn't take me long to get over it. As they say, there are plenty more fish in the sea. Every few days new guests arrive, so there's never a shortage of suitable older men.

Then the doorbell rang!

He was late, but I didn't get an apology, and he'd come empty-handed. No wine or chocolates. Not a good start to our illicit sexual liaison. But then he suddenly kissed me, and all was forgiven.

What had first attracted me to him was his self-confidence. He was comfortable in his own skin. And from seeing him interact with other people, I could see that he was a man that liked to be in charge. In personality, but not appearance, he was a lot like my Father, who I adored.

While we kissed, his hands suddenly moved onto my breasts. He was roughly groping them, like an overeager teenager that was doing it for the first time. That was disappointing because I was expecting a lot better from a man of his age and experience. Then, as he thrust one of his hands between my legs, the other one went towards his trousers. I looked at him wide-eyed. I'd suddenly realized that he just wanted to fuck, to get it over and done with as quickly as possible. He wasn't interested in having any sort of foreplay or intimacy. And I knew that making me come would not be a priority for him.

"Slow down."

His response to that was to pull my panties to one side, with such force, that they ripped. That's when I pushed him away from me. This was only going to get worse. It was time to end it.

"I think you should leave."

That surprised him, and the look on his face said, what did I do wrong? Then it changed, he was angry. I needed to quickly act before it got out of hand.

"NOW!"

I'd shouted it out, to make it absolutely clear that I meant it. And he'd got the message, because he was walking towards the door. I was expecting him to slam it on his way out, but he didn't. Instead he said a few words, and none of them were complimentary. Cunt being one of them.

Tonight, I was supposed to be fucked to an epic climax, by a man that I thought was a gentleman. That now wasn't going to happen, but I could still come. I was going to finger myself. It wouldn't be the same as having a cock inside me, but it would do for now. And to make it even more exciting, while doing it, I would close my eyes and immerse myself in my favourite fantasy.

That I was being fucked by my Father!

In the morning, as far as I was concerned, last night's bad experience was history, and I wasn't going to dwell on it. That was until I saw Edward coming towards me in the corridor while I was on my way to breakfast. When he got near to me he spoke.

While sneering, he said, "I'm going to give you the worst review you've ever had."

But I wasn't worried, because I knew the perfect response to his threat.

"And if you do, then I'll tell your wife."

That made him wince, and because he didn't have a retort for that, he just walked past me while muttering obscenities under his breath. All of them directed towards me, the woman who hadn't been willing to accept his bad behaviour.

In the evening, while relaxing with a large malt whisky, I thought some more about Edward, that dreadful man. Was he like that with his wife? I hoped not. I'd been so looking forward to it, and it had been a disaster. I vowed that next time I would be more careful with my choice of men.

The next day, while greeting the new guests, I wasn't just welcoming them, I was assessing the men. And one of them had potential.

Philip was in his fifties. His face was rugged rather than handsome, but when he smiled his face lit up, and that made me like him. He could do with losing a few pounds, especially from his waist, but that didn't put me off. And most important, from his body language, and the way that he kept looking at me, I knew that given some encouragement, he would eagerly come to my room.

For the next three days there wasn't any opportunity to talk to him. When he was at the resort, I wasn't, and when he didn't have a tour, I did. It was as if we were fated to never be together. However, I wasn't concerned. There was still plenty of time, and unless I was mistaken, it wasn't going to take a lot of interaction between us for it to be successful.

On the fourth day, after I'd finished work, and purely by chance, I found myself in the same room as him. As soon as I saw Philip I smiled at him, and he invited me to join him and his wife at their table. I sat down next to him.

Both of them were good company, especially Penelope who was amusing us with her rude, but also very funny, stories. I was having a good time. Then something happened that took me completely by surprise.

He'd put his hand on my thigh!

Penelope was on the opposite side of the table, so she couldn't see what he'd done, but it was still a risky move. And he wasn't content with it just being there, it was now slowly moving upwards.

To a casual observer, standing away from us, it would look completely normal. The three of us were engaged in a lively conversation, the topic being the forthcoming general election. Philip wanted the Conservatives to win but Penelope was supporting Labour. However, if that observer was to be more vigilant, then they would discover that something was going on.

My legs were now apart, enough for his hand to be able to get to my pussy. And that's where it was, slowly teasing my swollen clit with his fingers through my panties. I was excited, and it was an effort to keep that excitement from showing on my face, but somehow I was managing to do it. But for how long? Then he stopped, but only so that he could pull my panties to one side. I desperately wanted his fingers inside my pussy, as deep as he could get them in, but that would be too much for me. There was only so much that I could take while staying silent. Thankfully, I was sober, so I was going to be sensible.

Reluctantly, I briefly closed my legs, trapping his hand. He got the message, because as soon as I opened them again he removed it.

I stayed with them for another fifteen minutes and then I went to my room. As soon as I was in it I started to get ready. He was coming to me, probably when his wife was asleep. When he did, I wanted everything to be perfect.

And him coming to my room wasn't just wishful thinking.

Towards the end of our time together, Penelope had told me how good their room was. That had given me the opportunity to tell her about mine. That's when I'd mentioned my room number, and when I had, I'd made sure that I was looking at Philip. To her, it was just a number, but to him, it was a message, and it was one that I was sure that he'd understood.

It was, 'come to my room so that we can fuck!'

When I'd left them in the bar it had been ten o'clock, it was now just after eleven. Very soon he'd be here, just thinking about that was making my pussy tingle. I was breaking my golden rule because this wasn't his last night at The Paradise Resort, but I didn't care. If he was as good as I hoped that he would be, then I wanted him in my bed as many times as possible before he departed.

When I heard him at the door my heart skipped a beat. As I opened it I was smiling. I was eager to see his reaction to what I was wearing. My large tits were almost bursting out of my flimsy top, and my skirt could not be any shorter. If I was to bend down, even slightly, then my panties would be showing. His eyes were going to pop out of his head.

My daring outfit had produced the desired effect, because when he saw me he did a double take. That should have amused me, but it didn't. And for one of the few times in my life I was actually speechless.

"Can I come in?"

I just nodded, and then I moved aside. I couldn't believe it. He wasn't Philip, the guest that I wanted to have sex with, he was my Father!

"I wanted to surprise you."

He'd certainly done that, and while I was wearing clothes that my Mother wouldn't approve of. But why was he here? My parents weren't supposed to arrive for another two weeks. Then he spoke again, and I got an explanation for why he was now in my room.

"I had to change the dates," and then, while shrugging his shoulders, he added, "You know what it's like."

I did. He was a successful business man who made a lot of money, but his time wasn't his own. Growing up, I'd lost count of the number of times that we'd had to make changes to a holiday at short notice because of his work.

I was glad to see him, it was a nice surprise, but his timing could have been a lot better. Any second now, Philip would be at my door, and that was going to be awkward. But there was nothing I could do about it. When it happened I'd just have to deal with it as best I could.

"Somebody is being a naughty boy."

When I looked at him quizzically, because it was a strange thing to say, he said more.

"There was a man in the corridor. He had a bottle of wine in his hand. He was nervous, as if he was about to do something that he shouldn't. While I was waiting for you to open the door, I smiled at him, but he just walked past me, looking straight ahead as if I wasn't there. He must be going to see a lady, and I'll bet that she's not his wife."

That was a relief. But tomorrow I'd have to convince Philip that the man at my door was my Father and not my lover.

I was calmer now, able to enjoy my Father's company.

"Would you like some wine?"

"It's late, I should..."

I didn't let him finish.

I interrupted him with, "Please stay," and then I gave him a look that he hadn't seen from me since I was a child. It was a sad face, and in the past it had been effective in getting me my own way.

"It's late, but your Mother is asleep so she won't be waiting for me. One glass of wine and then I'll go."

It was nice to know that it still worked!

We than talked, catching up with all that had happened to both of us since the last time we'd been together. That was over three months ago, so there was a lot to cover. When he'd finished his wine I poured him a second one. I was already on my third, and it would have to be my last, because I was already tipsy.

My Father was the perfect gentleman, always doing the right thing, but when I noticed that he was now looking at me in a way that he shouldn't, I couldn't blame him. The clothes I was wearing were very revealing, and unlike me, he wasn't a big drinker. That second glass of wine must have gone to his head. If I'd been sober then his attention would have made me feel uncomfortable. Tonight, it didn't. It amused me. And it was also arousing me, making me want to play out my fantasy for real. Philip's hand between my legs had started a fire in my pussy, and it had been smouldering ever since then. Now, because of the alcohol I'd consumed, and the attention that I was getting from my Father, it was stronger, and very soon it would be out of control. I needed a cock, and I couldn't wait until tomorrow.

That's why I opened my legs!

I was well on the way to being drunk, but I'd still done it subtly. He'd be able to see my panties, but just a small part of them. I was testing him, to see how far he wanted to go. It was up to him now. He didn't have to look, nobody was going to force him to do it. And he could easily end this, without any embarrassment for either of us, by simply leaving.

He didn't just look up my skirt, he moved his head slightly so that he could see better. I pretended not to notice, and I carried on talking, but my pulse was racing, and my juices were starting to flow. My pussy had been moist, but now it was wet. And to entice him even more, I moved my legs again, revealing more of my panties. That's when he placed his hands on his lap so that he could hide his expanding cock.

The look on his face said it all. He was a man dying of thirst that can see water, but it's beyond his reach. He wants it, with all his heart and soul, but he knows that he is never going to have it.