Hotel Exhibitionist Ch. 02

"I'm happy to try to help, whatever it is," he said. He swept his arms around him in a broad gesture. "But we do have a round to finish, and the light's fading. What's up?"

She paused, and then sucked in a big breath to buck up her courage to say what she had to say.

"My husband, who is not here with me, has dared me to do something. And I need you to help me do it."

She could tell they didn't know what she was going to ask, but that they were keenly interested. They drew closer to her and didn't say anything, although the man in front made a soft gesture with his hand toward her that said, "Let's get on with it, then."

"I need you to take a picture of me," she said.

"2:00."

Stop it, Robert! she thought.

"That's no problem," said the man in front. "That's simple. Here, let me take your phone."

She approached him and handed him the phone.

"But there's one other thing," she said. Could she make herself say it? Yes, she could.

"I need to expose myself. I need to have you take a picture of me when I pull up my dress. Naked."

Kymberly had never seen three mouths drop open in unison more quickly and deeply than she did now.

"Seriously?" one of the guys in back spoke up for the first time.

"Seriously," she said. There, she had said it. Now she had to hurry.

"Can you help me?" she added, quickly.

"Sure, I guess so," said the man in front. A grin that defined "shit-eating" spread across his face.

"Let's do it over here," she said. Kymberly was mortified at the words that had just come out of her mouth, but she was thrilled, too, and now that she had said it she was eager to fulfill her end of the bargain. Her pussy tingled with pleasure and anticipation, too. As ridiculous and embarrassing as this task was, now that the deed had been named she wanted her pussy to be seen.

She skipped on polished toes to the lead man's golf cart and jumped into the empty seat on the driver's side. She turned and looked back at the three men. All three were staring at her bare knees, waiting, though she hadn't parted them yet.

"Are you ready?" she said to the man with her phone.

"Sure," he said, recovering his senses and holding up the phone in front of him. "Ready when you are."

She looked very quickly in every direction to see if anyone else could see them. She saw no one, and she could only barely make out the patio area, now some distance away and screened off by trees.

She tossed her purse and shoes lightly on the fairway grass. She parted her legs. "I seem to be parting my legs a lot today," she thought. She pulled the hem of her short dress up, so it was above her waist and her bare bottom was on the seat. She spread her legs as wide as she could in her awkward position, to make sure the camera would leave no doubt about her exposure and her fulfillment of the task.

She heard a soft ping coming from the phone and knew it was Robert's signal that only one minute remained.

The two men not holding the camera simultaneously said "Shit!" and "Holy fuck!" when her legs opened.

As evening drew closer the temperature fell, and a soft breeze now blew over the course and could be heard whistling faintly through the trees. The air currents, eddying and swirling, teased and tickled her labia, which were now damp with arousal and exertion. She savored the touch of the cool air on her skin, and she ate up the ravenous looks of the men standing and staring at her. She thought, momentarily, that she could just sit there, indefinitely, with their eyes on her, as evening came and the air cooled and the breeze stiffened and tickled her nether lips with growing vigor. If she sat there long enough, she might come, eventually, she thought.

But she didn't have time for that. Instead, she spoke up to keep things moving along.

"I know it's a nice view," she said. "But I'm running out of time. Can you take the photo?"

"Yes, ma'am," said the man with the phone. He pushed the button.

"Did it turn out O.K.?" she asked, her voice cracking a little with the tension.

He paused a little, then squinted at the phone, then a smile spread over the width of his face and he gave her a deep nod.

"I'll say. Hell yes, that turned out."

She sprang from the cart and sprinted toward him.

"Please, I need the phone," she pleaded.

He didn't pull it back but he didn't hand it to her immediately, either. The other two men were crowding around him to see the photo. "Can't we see first?" one of them said.

"Yes, but please wait because I have to send it to my husband," she said, the urgency rising in her voice.

She took hold of the phone and the man let her have it. Her fingers punched the screen in desperation to beat the clock. She heard a whoosh that confirmed that the text with her photo had been sent.

She clutched the phone, looking at it and waiting and hoping she'd beaten Robert's countdown.

He pinged her back.

"Damn, baby."

He pinged her again.

"That's better than I expected. There must be some happy golfers standing next to you right now. You did it with 7 seconds to spare. You like to cut it close."

She exhaled a big breath. She couldn't believe how wrapped up she had become in Robert's game, but she had.

"So --," she heard one of the men standing near her say. "Did you get it done? Whatever your husband wanted you to do?"

She looked away from her phone at the men with eyes shining with excitement and gratitude.

"Yes!" she said. "With seven seconds to spare. Thank you! And, gentlemen," she added. "I'm sorry I interrupted your game."

"Oh, don't be sorry on our account," said the man who'd taken her photo. "This was the highlight of our round, I assure you."

"That was the highlight of my golfing career," said one of the other two.

"Can we see the picture now?" one of them asked.

"Oh, of course!" she said. "That's the least I can do."

She pulled up the photo on her phone and turned the screen toward them so they could see the photo of her, displayed in all her glory on their golf cart.

"Damn, you are gorgeous," said one.

"Thanks," she said in a low voice. She held the phone and let them look more. They were in no hurry to stop looking.

Coming down from the high of completing the task, Kymberly became embarrassed again as she thought about what she had just asked these men to do and what she had let them see.

"Thank you, guys," she said. "I appreciate it. I know it was a crazy request. There was no one else to help me."

"Well, thank God there was no one else," said the leader. "My name's Chet, and that was something I'm not going to forget . . . ever."

"You're sweet," Kymberly said.

"How about one more picture, now that your thing with your husband is done?" one of the two in back asked.

"I don't know, guys, I need to get back to the party."

"I'm sure they miss you," said Chet. "But how about one quick one, with you and my buddies here."

"Guys, this was for my husband. I can't let you keep naked photos of me."

"That's too bad," said Chet. "I'll tell you what. I'll take a photo of you and the boys here next to the cart on your phone. You can decide later if you want to send it to us. Come on, you owe us that much for helping you out in a pinch."

"You did delay our golf game," said one of the other two with a laugh.

"O.K., but let's be quick," Kymberly said.

She walked back to the golf cart and sat in the same position as before in the seat. She hiked up her skirt, and Chet's buddies took a place on either side of her.

Kymberly was feeling naughty and emboldened by Robert's game and thought she'd take this a step further. It was a step Robert would not have anticipated, and she wondered how he would react to it.

"Why don't each of you boys hold on to one of my thighs, and spread my legs apart?" she suggested.

Her idea was a big hit. Each of them, standing to the side of her, got behind and held on to one of her thighs from behind. She felt two pairs of hands grab her thighs. One pair was soft and small, and took hold of her thigh chastely and near the knee. But the other pair was rougher and stronger, and grabbed her more tightly, close to her butt and the junction of her legs. The hand that was lower on her was no more than a couple of inches from the exposed damp gash in her middle, and she thought with excitement that it would take no more than a slight shift in her position to bring her dampness directly in contact with his rough, strong fingers.

While focusing on the touch of the two men holding her thighs, which were starting to tremble, she'd lost track of Chet. When she paid attention to him once again, he was busy snapping not just one but multiple photos of her.

She had to regain control of herself, and of the situation. She had a party to get back to, and she needed to do some more networking before Robert gave her another task.

"O.K., boys, that's enough," she said. The two that were holding her released their hands while Chet appeared to be busy scrolling through the photos he had taken. At least they were gentlemen, she thought. They weren't taking advantage of her.

She grabbed her shoes and purse, and reached out to take her phone back. After taking a last, longing look at the screen of Kymberly's phone, Chet handed it back to her.

"What's your name?" Chet asked.

"Kymberly," she said without hesitation. At this point, having revealed so much, she didn't care if they knew her name.

"A pretty name for a pretty lady," Chet said, and his friends nodded. "Kymberly, Chuck and Mario and I are going to be playing again tomorrow if you'd care to join us. I think it could be a very memorable round."

"I'm not much of a golfer, I'm afraid," she said.

"I'm sure that wouldn't matter one bit," said Chet. "Here's my card if you are interested. Oh, and you can text me at that number, too. Messages, photos, whatever." He handed her his card. Chet Dipensky. It said on the card that he had some sort of contracting business.

"Thanks," she said. "I have to run, guys. I hope you enjoy the rest of your round."

"See you later . . . Kymberly," said Chet.

She turned away from the three men and scurried back through the pine tree stand, the mat of pine needles pricking her feet again.

She hurried back to the patio and the party. The light dimmed as night drew near. She was determined to make some headway networking and schmoozing potential clients even while she vowed to complete Robert's one remaining task. "Then I'll be done for the night," she thought.

When she returned to the concrete path she put her shoes back on. She touched her finger to her skin; despite the gathering coolness of the evening a thin film of sweat lay over her skin. She wondered if people would notice, and, if so, what they would think she had been doing. They wouldn't be able to guess what she had been doing, that much was certain.

Back on the steps to the patio, which still was buzzing with conversation and brimming over with people, she gathered herself and squared her shoulders and walked back into the party. Outdoor lamps were lighting up around her to offset the evening gloom.

"Kymberly!" an unwanted voice rose above the din of the party. It was Kristin, again, with her new toy Roger still in tow. Their relationship had progressed, Kymberly could see, because Kristin was in front pushing through the crowd and he was following her carrying both of their drinks.

"Where have you been?" Kristin asked, her eyes darting over Kymberly but lingering on her exposed arms and cheeks. "You have a healthy glow about you. Are you just enjoying the party or is it from something else?" Her voice was light but her face shined with predatory purpose.

"I had to run back to my room for something," Kymberly said, thinking quickly. "But I ran back. Don't want to miss the party." Kristin said nothing but didn't look convinced.

After an awkward moment of silence Kymberly turned away from Kristin and her new friend. She went looking for Samuel. She didn't find him, but over the next fifteen minutes she worked her way into three conversations, told a few jokes, and connected with five possible new customers.

She was on a roll. And it wasn't just because she was on her game at the party. Completing the last two tasks had left her feeling confident, even a little drunk with exhilaration. She knew Robert's third challenge would come soon, and, far from dreading it, she looked forward to it.

In the meantime, though, she had a job to do, so she circulated around the crowd, doing her best to win friends and influence people.

At last, her phone pinged again.

"Hello darling. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. Making lots of friends and doing business. And I learned something about a competitor."

"Sounds like you have been able to balance your work and my play with success," he texted. "I have just one more task for you. Are you ready?"

Kymberly had just removed herself from her last conversation. She had time to play again.

"Yes, I'm ready."

"Good. Then here is your last task. You will have 10 minutes to complete this one as well, starting from the moment I text the word GO. Here is your task: You must find a place somewhere on the hotel grounds, not in your room, and not in a bathroom or any other private room, and you must take off all your clothes and get naked, except your heels, and take a photo of yourself and send it to me. It can be outside, or inside the hotel, but if it's inside the hotel it must be in a public space. One other rule: it cannot be more than 200 feet from where other people are. So, you cannot run back in the dark onto the golf course and get naked. Finally, the photo must be a full body shot, so you will need to set it up at least ten feet from you and put it on a 10 second delay. GO."

Oh, Robert, she thought. How would she complete this task? His directions prevented her from choosing any of the places that she reasonably could expect to complete the task. Getting completely naked would be a lot riskier than taking an upskirt photo or pulling up her skirt for another person. She would be completely exposed and vulnerable for at least a few minutes while she removed her clothes and put them back on.

She surveyed the patio and its outdoor surroundings. People were everywhere, drinking, talking, spilling off the patio. There would be nowhere to get naked outside without going far away, and his instructions prevented her from doing that.

She turned the other way, toward the double doors of the hotel. There might be an out-of-the way corridor or alcove somewhere -- a place that was public, but not currently in use.

She saw Samuel out of the corner of her eye as she strode to the door. She knew she ought to have been schmoozing with him, but she was determined to see her husband's game through, regardless of the inconvenience. In the other direction, she Blaine, trying to catch her attention and moving slowly toward her through the crowd. She couldn't afford to let him catch her and slow her down, so she quickened her pace.

Once through the doors she headed left. The corridor was unfamiliar. She didn't know where it led, but she knew it led away from the party on the patio and away from the lobby. A sign on the wall to her left, adjacent to several large doors, read "Grand Ballroom." She pulled on one of the doors and it gave way. Inside lay a vast room with many tables covered and ready for dinner. It was where the main event was to take place. Hotel staff were setting the tables and sound crew were on the stage working on pieces of sound equipment. That room wouldn't do.

She walked further, and a small corridor opened on the right. She walked down it, looking for some empty, unused place that as near enough to other people to satisfy Robert's conditions. Kymberly found what looked like such a place -- a little alcove with a low table and a few chairs. No one was around. She stepped into it.

"8:00."

The clock was ticking. She didn't hear anyone or see anyone. Thinking this might be her only chance, she set her purse and phone on the ground and grabbed the hem of her red dress. She took a few deep breaths and prepared to pull it quickly up and off her.

Then she heard fast, heavy footsteps and voices, and three waiters walked by the corridor not 20 feet from her. She pulled the dress back down and took her hands off it before they saw her. She let out a fast puff of air.

That was close. People were coming and going along the corridor between the grand ballroom and elsewhere in the hotel, probably the kitchen. She couldn't undress there.

She left the alcove and hurried back to the corridor off which one entered the grand ballroom. Instead of returning along the corridor she hurried along the other way. She reached another set of doors, with the sign "Small Ballroom" next to them. Taking yet another deep breath, Kymberly pulled the door open as another ping announced the number "7:00" on her phone screen.

The door was open, but the room was only half lit, with a few overhead lights turned on but most of them off. The room was empty. Kymberly walked in.

This ballroom was like the other one, but a lot smaller. It was mostly empty. A few tables were scattered around, some with tablecloths spread over them, but they were not set for anything. A low stage perched at the far end of the room, and off to one side sat what looked like a portable bar about 10 feet long.

It was obvious that the room wasn't going to host any events that night. No one was in it, and there was no reason for anyone to enter it. But other people, walking the hallways and getting the other ballroom ready, were less than a hundred feet away. She had as good a chance of getting naked here and not getting discovered as anywhere else she could think of.

It would do. It would have to.

She walked deeper into the room, toward the tables and the bar and away from the doors.

"Where are you?" Robert texted.

"I'm in the small ballroom," she replied, still walking to the tables. She reached them and looked around, trying to figure out what was the best spot to take off her clothes.

The room was bare, and no part of it seemed to offer any more privacy than any other party.

"That should do perfectly," he replied. "Better get going."

"6:00."

She picked a spot on the side of a table opposite the doors, about twenty feet from the bar. Some of the tables were covered with linen cloths that extended most of the way to the ground, offering screen from the doors. She pulled a chair half way out and set her purse and phone on it. She remembered that Robert wanted her to keep her heels on. That left only the short dress and bra to remove.

Here goes nothing, she thought, and she pulled the dress off in a single grand sweep. She folded it once and set it on top of her purse on the chair. Then she reached behind her and unhooked the bra, and she tossed it atop the dress.

Kymberly now stood fully naked, save for her four-inch black leather heels, in a cavernous and half-lit ballroom. She was alone, but all the doors to the room were unlocked and could be opened at any time.

She wanted to work quickly and to get the task done so she could return to the patio. She picked the phone up from her chair and looked around for a good place to take the picture. She saw the bar. She could set the phone against its side, put it on time delay, and then sit naked 10 feet from the phone while her photo was taken. She'd be done in 30 seconds. This task wasn't going to be so hard, after all.

She walked to the bar and bent over, happy that her three tasks were nearly done and confident that this one would be completed in a minute.

Then she heard voices, and the heavy metallic sound of one of the doors being opened. Someone was coming in.