The Grande Futapest Hotel Ch. 06

Layla gently shushed her.

"Are you shushing me because I said 'black' or because I said 'pussy?'"

"The second one."

"I won't know which one you mean unless you say it."

"ANYWAY. You were saying?"

"Once I heard that there was some subsection of my fans for whom it was important that I hadn't had a black male costar, I immediately asked some people at the studio to find me a suitable candidate for such a release.

"And eventually, they found me one, and I met Ray." Selena smiled. "Well, I shouldn't say his real name. His porn name is Azrael Spencer, but I call him Ray, because when I flew out to meet him, he said, 'Howdy, I'm Ray.' We started talking, and we really hit it off. We never talked about sex or about work. We just talked and had fun. We didn't even flirt, because he's married to a lovely woman who doesn't work in the industry at all. I knew it would work. We scheduled a session for a few weeks later, and... what was supposed to be a ten-minute segment went for almost two hours and got its own release."

"Did you end the video with both of you giving the double deuce to the camera?" Layla asked.

"No. That sort of stuff can offend even those who weren't the target." Selena said. "Even calling them out specifically would have been too far. It would give them too much importance to dignify it like that. So we shot a conclusion to the video. We were on set, in bathrobes, right afterwards, where we both agreed to give our fees for the day's work to some charities. I actually forget what I chose, but Ray suggested something that would really get under a racist idiot's skin without being super obvious about it."

Selena chuckled to herself. "So yeah. I did this enormous porn shoot with my new friend... for free... just so I could shake the trunk of my fanbase and knock the deadwood off. There's still some bad apples and anti-fans, who will hate me no matter what I do, but my fans are almost all excellent."

Selena looked into her lap for a moment, and then back into Layla's eyes. "I mean... look at you."

Layla grinned.

The plane lurched forward suddenly.

Layla tensed and leaned back in her seat.

"Have you ever flown before?"

"It was a long time ago..." Layla croaked.

Selena put her hand over Layla's.

"The beginning's the hardest part." Selena comforted her. "Just like anal."

--

Layla had offered to switch seats so Selena wouldn't be on the aisle and get bothered by a potential fan. Selena was grateful, but she insisted that didn't generally happen in first class. Their seats were all the way to the back, the ever-impenetrable curtain separating First Class and coach right behind them. Sitting this far back meant almost nobody in First Class would walk past them to get to the lavatory.

As it was, only one person other than the flight crew or Layla actually spoke to Selena the entire flight. A handsome gentleman in his mid-thirties that Selena might have recognized from somewhere. He referred to her as "Miss Grande," which Selena snickered at.

All he wished of her was to answer one question that had been gnawing him since he'd seen her. Selena braced herself for an impertinent question about her career or her sexuality.

Instead, he asked why she wasn't flying on a private jet.

It was a question that Selena had not been asked before. She explained how she very rarely left California, and didn't see the need to make the greater impact on the environment or her bank account. If she were in a predicament and absolutely HAD to get somewhere, she might charter a private flight somewhere, but that hadn't happened yet.

It was an interaction Selena found completely benign. Sitting in the aisle also meant she got her drinks first, and they were just a teensy bit colder, though that was surely just her imagination.

Either way, Selena survived the aisle seat for the duration of the flight. She would not deny Layla the privilege of watching as the lights of the city and the airport came into view. Hundreds of tiny faint orange lights grew brighter as they approached and the plane returned to the ground.

Layla wasn't sure if it would be like the movies: a woman in a grass skirt throwing a necklace of flowers over her head once she deplaned. Nothing like that happened. They entered the Maui airport, which looked like any other, and waited for ten minutes around the baggage carousel. Those ten minutes seemed to make Selena apprehensive, as if she was afraid someone would cry her name across the entire airport and she'd get mobbed at any second.

Once they retrieved their luggage, they walked to the car rental desk. To Layla's shock, they had produced a practically identical car to Selena's. The only difference was the Hawaii state plates. Selena insisted it wasn't exactly the same car, as this was the 2017 model; hers was the 2016. There were surely some incidental differences in headlight shape to tell them apart, or some other vagaries that even her trivia-tuned mind could not possibly care about.

From there, it was a short drive to their hotel, a long white building of maybe seven stories that barely poked above the palm trees. It was surrounded by white tile flooring lined with crimson, multiple red hibiscus flower plants at the edges of walking paths, and umbrellas with thatched roof surrounding chairs and external bars.

It wasn't quite as exotic as Layla was expecting. But if Selena selected it, it must be nice. She knew what she was doing.

They drove under the canopy and relinquished the car keys to the valet. A veritable battalion of bellhops extracted their luggage and wheeled it into the hotel.

The interior of the lobby had understated lighting, dark polished woods and a shiny marble floor with a circular red rug in the middle. Layla thought she might see a fountain there, but the rug seemed to occupy its space. Putting an artificial water feature in a hotel so close to the ocean seemed silly until she realized this hotel almost certainly had a pool.

Selena handled the check-in at the front desk, and they were swiftly off again. Layla turned towards the bay of elevators and pressed the UP button before she realized she had lost Selena without meaning to. For a moment, terror struck Layla's heart, like losing her buddy on a school trip, or realizing the black skirt you were following at the supermarket wasn't your mom after all.

Selena quickly appeared around the corner and told her, "We're on the first floor."

That surprised Layla. She thought Selena might get the biggest, fanciest penthouse on offer. It was the closest thing to her own living situation that this hotel would have. The pool was probably bigger here, but she didn't have to share hers with families and drunk people.

The bellhop unlocked a door and opened it, pointing his arm into the room to let the guests step in first. It had a large living area with a couch, two separate bedrooms with their own bathrooms, a small kitchenette that seemed to lack either an oven or dishwasher... and a porch leading to a secluded beach. The curtains over the sliding doors waved about in the gentle breeze like the legs of jellyfish. The air was gentle, cool and just a bit salty.

This was something you couldn't get on the umpteenth floor. Suddenly the choice made more sense.

Selena tipped the last bellhop and he left. Finally alone, Selena opened her arms to the accommodations. "What do you think?"

"I like it." Layla looked to the ceiling. "It's... smaller than I thought. It's like if my apartment had another bed and bath."

"That means we can spend more time together." Selena said. "Both of us in my giant house, we could go days without seeing each other."

Selena led Layla out by the hand to the porch, where two chairs awaited them. The coast was a scant few hundred feet directly out, the surf lapping the wet sand in a constant metronome. The breeze swept through the porch constantly.

"How do you like this?" Selena asked.

"It's beautiful." She smiled

"It is."

"It's cold."

"It IS kind of cold right now. This will be more useful in the afternoon."

Layla pulled her arms up to her chest. "Let's go back inside."

"Yeah, I want to take a shower." Selena said. "Whoever finishes first... we'll sleep in their bed."

Selena walked into the larger bedroom. Layla rushed into the other one, finding the en suite bathroom and showering as fast as she could. Sitting still in an airline seat for six hours hadn't exactly made her break a sweat, so she didn't see the need for a 'deep clean,' so to speak. If she had to use the airplane's lavatory... then she would have felt differently. Maybe the first-class airline bathroom was a sterling example of sanitation. She doubted it.

Layla nearly tripped over the bathmat as she rushed over to Selena's room. Layla stopped in the doorway, seeing Selena already sitting in bed, looking at her phone, as perfectly put together as always.

"Damn it." Layla cursed. "How do you do it so fast?"

Selena smiled as her eyes fell on Layla again. "I don't think I'll ever get bored of you running and standing in doorways naked with an erection."

"I can do it again if you like."

"No. Just get over here."

Layla flew into the bed and they made out, as if it'd been weeks since they'd last had the opportunity. Layla nuzzled her face against Selena's soft breasts, grasping one hand against Selena's cock. Selena took Layla by the back of the head and brought it closer for more kissing.

With Selena underneath her, Layla rolled her hips and positioned her tip on the aperture of Selena's pussy.

And Selena's hand interceded, cupping against her groin and shielding it from Layla's future thrusts.

"What?!" Layla asked, looking lost.

Selena looked up from within Layla's arms. "I need to know."

Layla flushed suddenly. "K-know what?"

"I need to know for sure if you were right last night. Maybe I don't need to hold back for days at a time to have big orgasms. So... I know we're on vacation, but I'm going to refrain from orgasm for a few days and see how I compare to when I save it up for a whole week."

"OK." Layla said immediately. "Then I'll hold back, too."

"You don't have to. I'll give you all the blowjobs you can stand. You can even practice not coming too early by fucking me."

Layla whimpered, arms shaking as they could barely be convinced to hold her up and apart from Selena. "Don't tempt me."

"I'm a porn star. I'm in the tempting business."

"Can we still kiss?"

"I wouldn't agree to anything that stopped us from doing that."

Selena and Layla kissed until they fell asleep in each other's arms.

--

On the first full day of the vacation, Selena woke bright and early. Whereas Layla woke an hour or so before she normally would. This didn't sound like Layla's idea of a vacation. Selena suggested they should walk down the nearby beach before it got crowded.

Layla reminded her that she didn't yet own a bathing suit.

The itinerary was immediately changed. Selena called the concierge and asked where the finest swimwear shop was within a reasonable distance of the hotel. They were directed to a boutique that made custom-fitted swimwear. It was a ten-minute drive from the hotel.

They were brought into a private dressing room with three mirrors. Selena sat on the provided bench. Their design associate entered the room, a man of indeterminate age, probably between thirty and fifty-five. He was mostly bald, but his hair was light blonde, lighter than Selena's. His eyebrows and mustache were slightly darker. He wore a red velvet suit and turtleneck, what looked like the absolute warmest thing to possibly wear in Hawaii. He must spend his time ducking between air-conditioned buildings and cars, as if the rays of sunlight were bullets.

"I'm Rod. I'll be making you look even more fabulous today."

He opened up a book filled with sketches and photos of models wearing different types of bikinis. He let Layla flip through the pages, but nothing jumped out at her. Rod made a few comments about shapes and color combinations and other fashion talk that meant absolutely nothing to Layla.

Maybe it was a lifetime of dressing down to not attract too much attention, maybe it was her upbringing as a farm girl who got her hands and clothes dirty constantly, or maybe it was the fact that all her 'cute' clothing was lingerie and other costume stuff that she only wore on stream... but it was dawning on Layla that... besides her beloved yoga pants, she just didn't dress very girly.

"What kind of swimsuit do you recommend for someone with my body shape?" She asked.

"Oh, honey..." Rod looked at her, leaning forward and pressing a single finger down on the book. "You can wear anything. And this isn't something I say to anyone. Remember, all the fashion designers like to work on skinny women, so everything they design makes them look good. There are ways to emphasize a small butt, or cover a big one, or emphasize a big one, or whatever. But two kinds of body types can wear whatever swimsuit they want. The column..." He gestured to Layla. "And the hourglass." He gestured to Selena.

Layla continued to look at the book as if it was the instruction manual for something she'd never heard of. "I think I'll trust you to put me in something nice."

"Do you mind if I take measurements?" Rod held the flexible measuring tape in both hands like a garrote wire.

Layla swallowed nervously. "Um... I know that you're not doing that just for fun, because you're... pretty obviously gay."

"What? Who squealed?!" Rod blurted out with mock panic. "Don't tell my dad! Or my husband. Whom I call Daddy."

"I'd ask for a same-gender associate, but... I don't think you have one."

Rod looked at her across his nose. "I'm not following, honey."

Selena finally spoke up. "I hate to say something like this but... you don't know who I am, do you?"

Rod squinted at her over his glasses. "Oh God, you're not one of the Kardashians, are you? New Kardashians keep popping up like groundhogs."

"I'm Selena Grande."

Rod blinked. "Oh."

"So... you see what we're getting at?"

Rod held up a finger. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared through the red curtains.

To fill the silence, Layla turned to Selena and said, "We've found the only person in the world who hasn't seen any of your porn."

"I don't think you're a column. Columns don't have great asses."

"Well, I'm using it right now to sit, so maybe he didn't see."

A new woman entered the dressing room, clearly a local Hawaiian woman. She had a round face, high cheekbones and prominent, dark red lips. She was dressed in a plain black blazer and skirt. Both Selena and Layla smothered a gasp as she entered the room.

"I'm Kakalina. I can do the measuring if you're tired of hearing Rod's stories."

"He had stories? Darn."

Kakalina took her tape and dispassionately measured Layla's parts, which was not as playful as when Selena did it the first day they had met. She took notes on a mini notepad in her right hand.

"I'll pull up some of the swimsuits in this range that we have ready and let you pick the ones you like. We can do alterations as well."

"Before you go..." Selena put up her hand. "May I ask when you were born?"

Kakalika looked at her. "That's a bit of a personal question."

"It was either that, or just directly asking if you are a futa."

"I know who you are, Miss Grande." Kakalika put the notepad in a breast pocket hidden by the blazer. "And I really must say, your continued and growing fame is part of the reason everyone thinks that futa are all sex-obsessed nymphos. Your star power distorts how everyone looks at futa across the world, even in places with less sexual freedoms than America."

Layla's eyes widened. It had never occurred to her that a futa might not want to be perceived as being 'like Selena.' It certainly wasn't her experience. Even before she met her, her chat comparing her favorably to Selena made her heart swell.

"I understand." Selena responded softly. "I really thought someone would have taken the throne from me at some point in the last few years, but... maybe I've got too much momentum to catch. I don't know if things would be different if I were to step aside or not. But if I've made trouble for you or someone in your family, I really am sorry."

Kakalina's gaze softened. "I believe you."

A pregnant pause. "Do you have... a futa sibling?"

With her left hand, Kakalika pulled up her skirt and slipped her fingers into her panties. From within the patch of silk, she produced a substantial flaccid cock that wobbled as she dropped it.

"No. I don't."

Selena grit her teeth involuntarily.

"What's wrong?" Kakalina asked. "You like it?"

"Yes, I do." Selena nodded.

Kakalika put it away. The slightest hint of a smile appeared on her face. "Well... that's as close as you'll ever get."

She exited the dressing room.

Selena stared out into space, taking deep breaths. For now, her skirt stayed where it was.

"You OK?" Layla asked.

"I should make a movie themed around denial."

Layla could almost see it appear before Selena's eyes. "What do you call your whole week?"

"Who am I normally denying? Myself? Who wants to see that?"

Layla chose a somewhat modest dark green bikini. The top was shaped more like a sports bra, and the bottoms had a large seat. The dark colors of the bikini seemed to hide her bulge except from direct profile.

When they returned home, Selena changed into her beach outfit. "Bikini" was probably not be the right word. She wore a white triangle bikini top, a sarong around her waist and a floral print chiffon shoal over her shoulders. In her left hand, she held a tropical-patterned parasol.

"You ready?" She asked.

Layla's heart began beating faster. "I'm ready."

No matter how much she steeled herself, Layla never really felt like she was.

--

Because of the delay brought on by the shopping trip, it was approaching 10:30 before they stepped out onto the beach... which was now filled with other vacationers. They began their gentle stroll down the beach, weaving through the crowd and trying not to get in anyone's way.

One man got up from his towel and walked up to them. He asked if she was, in fact, Selena Grande. She confirmed this, they took a picture together, and he went back to his towel. She requested that the fan not post that picture to social media for a little while, so people wouldn't find out where she was and seek her out. He agreed to this condition.

As they left, Selena asked for Layla to keep her eyes behind them to make sure the man wasn't following them.

"That's the thing with my fans." Selena said. "He did it right, but some of them don't know when to back off. Or even how."

"What about me?"

Selena pulled her in close as they kept walking. "Why would I want you to back off?"

Having left most of the crowd behind, they came to a gap in the trees, with a circular space of untouched sand within. It looked like a naturally formed cul-de-sac among the palm trees.

"This should work." Selena turned and walked between the trees. "Nobody will bother us in here, I bet." She unfurled her towel onto the sand.

"Is this..." Layla swallowed nervously. "a nude beach?"

"No, it's not." Selena said, undoing the knot in her sarong with both hands. "But sometimes..."

Selena pulled the sarong off herself, her flaccid cock hanging free from her body. "Sometimes I just take my clothes off when nobody's around." Her arms snaked behind her to undo the clasp of her bikini top. "Normally, I get undressed with everyone watching. But you know about that." She took off her sunglasses and looked down at Layla's groin. Her bottoms had pulled away from her body, wrapped tightly around her erection like a green condom.

"Layla..." Selena smiled.