The Mystery at Faldor Hotel Ch. 11

Bess had to stifle a laugh after she left Suite 408. Strutting down the corridor, she had to wonder where Nancy thought she got off. Who was she to tell her how to dress? Who did she think she was? She liked Nancy, but the girl had quite an ego, making fun of her body for years and then having the nerve to expect her to conform to her ideals of decency. George wasn't any better. Nancy's little follower, laughing along with her at her own cousin's expense, laughing from the closet the entire time.

"Hypocrites!"

Bess truly hoped the two did get together, if only that she could point and laugh at them for a change, calling into question their morals. Besides, imagine what the straight laced denizens of River Heights would think if they ever found out that the almighty Carson Drew's daughter was licking George Fayne's hot buttered muffin?

This made her laugh, but also reminded her of how Mr. Drew had looked at her when he and Nancy had come to pick her up to go to the airport. She wondered if he would be as bold with her young body as the two patrons of Annabelle's Boutique were the day before. She somehow doubted it. Could she tempt him, lure his lawyer hands down her high school graduate panties? Of course, Bess wasn't particularly interested in him any more than she was Ned Nickerson, but the look on Nancy's face once she found out the girl she'd always made fun of had had sex with the two most important men in her life would be priceless!

On her way down the stairs, these fun fantasies passed from her mind as she felt the pleasure of her breasts bouncing with each step. She was deeply aroused and her thoughts of the two boutique patrons had brought back the memory of their swollen members, how they stroked and squeezed them as they fondled her body. Again, she wondered how they would feel in her hand, how they might feel in her mouth.

"Hello, Mr. Carmody!" she greeted the Desk Attendant and Hotel Manager

"Hello, Miss Marvin. Might I say, you're looking very lovely this afternoon?"

"Why, thank you!"

"My pleasure, Ma'am," he replied, going back to whatever it was he was writing before Bess had disturbed him.

At the sight of the crystal Columns, Bess stopped, remembering what Nancy had said about them. It seemed crazy, but Nancy, while an egotistical know-it-all, was far from stupid and her perceptions were pretty much always on the mark. Out of sheer curiosity, she diverted from her path to the dining room and approached one of them. Not worried about looking suspicious, considering what a beautiful oddity the structural supports were and how anybody might want a closer look, she held her hand up to touch one. While hesitating, her palm less than an inch away from the crystal, she felt heat emanating from its surface. It was only a little, but it was there. When she did touch it, she lay her hand full on it, palms and fingers flat. The heat became greater and, closing her eyes, Bess 'listened' with her body and thought she could feel a faint throb that Nancy had described. It could have been her own hand, the pulse that ran through her body throbbing against the solidity and heat of the crystal, but she didn't think so. She was sure it came from the column itself. She placed her other hand on the column and concentrated, smiled without realizing it as a faint, but unmistakable sense of affection reached her.

She lingered, surprised and intrigued at what she was sensing, but also wondering if this wasn't merely the power of suggestion, the result of having her mind conditioned by Nancy's claims that the columns had some kind of draw.

Letting go, she studied its carved design, somewhat reminiscent of paisley, before moving to another. It looked the same, also radiating a feel when she touched it, inhaling sharply before putting her other hand against it. Closing her eyes again, she allowed her perceptions to drink in the faint, but raw sexuality it put out. She felt herself becoming more aroused as the paisley like designs seemed to crawl and writhe under her hand.

Pressing her forearms, upper body and face against the glowing cylinder, her round bottom stuck out as she started to think about cock. A nice, big, hard penis to slowly fill her up and maybe another one to play with while being so satisfyingly-

"Quite fascinating, aren't they?"

Jerking back to reality, Bess found Mr. Carmody standing at her side, smiling professionally as he regarded her, then the column she'd been warming up to.

"Y-uh, yes, they- they're very um... interesting," Bess replied, feeling a flush work its way up her body as she attempted an innocent smile.

"Most of our guests comment on them, take pictures and such. Some argue that they're the most remarkable aspect of the Faldor."

"Aren't they?" Bess asked, idly wondering how big Carmody's penis was.

With a smile, the hotel manager replied with, "It depends. Some prefer to shoot the exterior architecture with the sea as a backdrop. We've had many a guest extend their stay while waiting for some particular weather conditions for their pictures."

"Well, the outside of the Faldor is certainly quite an attention grabber. I would say that it's because of how it stands out in such a small town as Cinder Bay, but it's more than that. It's so..."

"Unexpected," Carmody finished.

"Yes, I suppose," Bess agreed with a wider smile as her hand found its way back to the column to rest as she spoke. "I mean, you come around the corner and there it is. I'd imagine a lot of people end up checking in just because they've stopped to look at it."

"Not as many as we'd like," Carmody admitted. "We're quite out of the way here, but yes, many people who decide to take the seaside scenic route do stop and stay with us because they've been struck by the Faldor's, um... grandeur, shall we say."

"Mmmm..." Bess replied, her gaze dropping to the tall man's midsection for a long moment.

"Are you enjoying your stay?"

"Yes, I am. Cinder Bay is a great place to be."

Carmody's professional smile showed satisfaction at this comment as he went on to inform, "I'm so glad you feel that way, Miss Marvin. By the way, a party of return guests have checked in earlier today for one of the hotel's cultural events. Please feel free to introduce yourself. We here at the Faldor do try to promote a certain level of class, but not at the expense of open friendliness."

Eyes back on his face, Bess promised, "I will, Mr. Carmody."

With a slight nod, he bade, "Have a pleasant day, Miss Marvin, and please don't hesitate to be a little slut should you feel the desire."

Bess wasn't sure she'd heard him right. Even her jaw needed time to process the Hotel Manager's outrageous comment, sagging after he turned to walk back to his post behind the desk. Once there, he briefly glanced up at her, his professional smile almost a polite dismissal before picking up a pen to attend to whatever work was before him. In her minor state of shock, her hand had fallen away from the column, the subtle lust it had implanted in her mind still there, but the crystal structure itself forgotten in the face of Carmody's unexpected comment. With his dismissal, however, there seemed little else to say or do except to resume her original course for the dining room and, by the time she reached its entrance, her open mouth was smiling incredulously, taking a last look behind at Carmody.

Barely noting the rather grandiose décor of the dining room, her thoughts of Carmody's last words were slowly pushed out of her mind by the tall black man behind the long bar at the far right of the room. He looked to be in his early thirties and was so black that his teeth seemed impossibly white by comparison, the whites of his eyes the same. Presently, his teeth were showing in a wide smile that welcomed in a way that any owner of any hospitality establishment would pay big wages for.

"Hello, and welcome!" his deep and richly accented voice greeted.

Still smiling, Bess's eyes were locked to this not unattractive, bald bartender as he polished a glass with a cloth as white as his teeth. There was nobody else in the dining room and, as she approached, his smile remained while his eyes defiled her young body.

"Hello," she said, climbing up on one of the stools that lined the front of the bar.

Offering his hand, he backed up the nametag on his white, button up shirt by stating, "My name is Junior, your bartender."

Taking it, she shook, replying, "Pleased to meet you, Junior. I'm Bess."

"A very pretty name," he commented, looking at her stark nipples.

"Why, thank you," she returned, her wide grin left over from Carmody's advice.

"What would you like, Bess?"

"Well, I really came in for something to eat."

"That is fine," he assured, "you may eat here. I will get you a menu."

He came around the end of the bar and headed across the dining room. Turning on the stool and watching him retreat through a door with a round window near the top, Bess couldn't help but admire the bartender's bottom in his belted, black dress pants and had to stifle a grin at the sudden, wicked thought of kissing it. She wondered if the naughty rumours about black men were true as she alternately remembered Carmody's last words to her in the lobby.

Presently, he returned and, with some difficulty in concentrating, she managed to order a seafood platter. He took her order and the menu back to the kitchen, then returned to again offer her a drink while she waited.

"I don't see why not," Bess agreed, "but I don't know what to have. I've never really..."

"Ah, I understand," Junior assured, holding up his hand in a gesture that suggested she need not explain further. "I will make you something so delicious that you will beg for more."

Two minutes later, she took a sip from the pink concoction he'd mixed and indeed found it to be very good.

"Mmmm. Much better than at the boutique."

"But of course," he chuckled. "Now, Bess, you must tell me... why does a beautiful young woman such as yourself come to a place like Cinder Bay?"

"My friends and I thought we'd get away for a while," Bess replied, "Sort of a graduation gift to ourselves."

"I understand," Junior nodded, then asked, "but why Cinder Bay? Surely there are other places that you would find to be much more exciting?"

"Actually, a friend of ours is, or was staying here. She told us how nice Cinder Bay is and what a nice hotel the Faldor is, so we thought we'd come here and join her. Unfortunately, we haven't seen her since we arrived yesterday and we're not even sure if she's still here."

"And Mr. Carmody will not tell you," the bartender assumed.

"Right. He says it would violate the hotel's privacy policy."

Junior nodded with a sympathetic expression, glancing again at her nipples and related, "This is true. All hotel employees are bound by this policy."

Taking a sip that led to a gulp, Bess returned, "So you won't tell me if she's been in here?"

Raising an index finger, he corrected, "Can't tell you. I surely would if I were permitted. As you may have guessed, there are not many jobs in Cinder Bay and, among them, this is one of the better ones."

"I understand," Bess told him with a smile.

"So, you are enjoying your stay?"

"Yes, I am. I wish we could find our friend, but I love Cinder Bay. It's a really nice place to be."

Junior's smile seemed to reflect some understanding of her reply, some agreement with her statement that went beyond the statement itself as he continued to polish the bar's glasses.

"Mind you, it's quite different here," she further noted. "The people are friendly, but they seem very... sexual."

Shrugging, Junior explained, "It is a small town. Smaller than small, even. There are not many things here for the people to do and sex is one of those things that people do not become bored with. This is why Anna has made such a good living with her boutique. Small population, but big business."

"I did wonder at that," Bess admitted, her eyes straying to Junior's midsection as she vaguely wondered once again about those naughty rumours. "I mean, a person wouldn't expect to see a sex shop in a town this small, but I guess it makes sense the way you explain it. So, there's a pretty free and easy attitude towards sex here," she assumed more than asked.

"Yes. Sometimes too free and easy, at least according to Mr. Carmody."

"You might be surprised," Bess refuted before taking a drink.

Chuckling, Junior amended, "Do not misunderstand, Bess. Mr. Carmody understands the situation and even encourages it to bring return business, but also seeks to keep people from fucking in the street."

Bess almost choked on her drink, eyes widening at the bartender's choice of words as he continued.

"Of course, he is correct in this. One cannot allow a complete breakdown of morality because this would sooner or later attract the wrong type of attention to the town. This would be just as damaging to Cinder Bay as an austere environment would be. Mr. Carmody understands that a constructive balance must be maintained."

"It sounds like Mr. Carmody carries a lot of authority in this town," Bess noted.

"This is correct. He is the Mayor. The Faldor Hotel serves as City Hall when the need arises and it is he who sets the town's policy, he who appoints official town responsibilities and he who sits in judgement of those who sometimes break our laws. This room provides the setting for our court during these times. Most importantly, it is his final responsibility to help attract new residents to the town. Residents who can bring with them opportunity and life, jobs and growth."

"No offense to your Mayor, but he doesn't seem to be doing very well with that."

"As you might imagine, it is a very difficult thing. I assure you, nobody else would want his job if it were offered. Even so, he has attracted Anna Phillips, who has opened her boutique, and Derek Lang, who has recently opened a small bar. He has also encouraged retirees to the hotel as a residence. They not only pay their way, but provide valuable and experienced council to the Mayor."

Junior went on to explain that these personnel acquisitions were essential to the survival of the town and that he himself had been recruited almost five years before. He'd recently immigrated to America from South Africa and ended up at the Faldor after some miscommunication with the driver of a car he'd hitchhiked a ride with on his way to Florida. Carmody liked his demeanor and his command of the English language, and offered him a job. Almost out of money and, with a room plus meals as part of Carmody's generous offer, Junior decided to stay. His actual name, he revealed to Bess, was quite difficult for westerners to pronounce, a curious 'kluk!' sound making it awkward besides. However, without the 'kluk!', it sounded vaguely like 'Junior' and this is how the South African had come by his western name.

Bess had just finished her drink, wondering for the umpteenth time at the size of Junior's member, when the kitchen door opened and a voluptuous, middle aged brunette appeared with her meal on a round tray. Bess couldn't help but notice the size of her breasts, lightly bouncing beneath the crisp, white blouse she wore as she approached the bar.

"Hello, Miss Marvin, my name is Elora Sasser. I'm your Dining Room Hostess, at least for the next forty-five minutes."

"My friend, George, spoke of you."

"Lovely girl," Elora commented in a dark voice that almost purred, her perfume as intoxicating as her presence. "And so are you. I love your dress."

"Thank you." Bess replied.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you."

Very well, then. I'll leave you in Junior's most capable hands."

Turning from Bess's side, Elora walked back through the dining room to the door with the round window, her full and shapely bottom swaying erotically the whole way as the young blonde watched, almost mesmerized. Before passing through, she turned, fixed Bess with a sexy expression and gave her a seductive wink.

Turning back to face Junior, flushed and aroused even further, she found the bartender still showcasing his perfect hospitality industry smile Taking a fearless look at her excited nipples, he only chuckled as he continued to polish glasses.

Bess found there was little else to do but begin her meal, the attention on her plate giving her a way out of the awkward situation of having so obviously and unapologetically watched the sensual Elora Sasser walk away. There was something about the woman that exuded sex and she couldn't help but wonder what lesbian George thought of her. Elora had even said that George was a 'lovely girl' at mention of her cousin's name, but said nothing about Nancy.

While she ate, her mind returned to the sexual attitude and behaviour that Junior had told her was acceptable in Cinder Bay. Remembering how Carmody encouraged her to be 'a little slut' if she wished made her flush again, though she couldn't help but also remember how she'd been lately thinking of how that behaviour would be fun and personally acceptable for her.

The thing of it was that walking around dressed the way she was and feeling aroused and flirtatious was one thing, but actually participating in sexual acts with strangers, actually being a slut, was quite another. She knew it wasn't her normal behaviour and, while it certainly was alright while in Cinder Bay, a part of her mind kept asking if that was truly who she was. As things stood, how would she feel about her behaviour so far once she left Cinder Bay? How would she feel about herself if she did things that proper young women ought not to be doing, things far worse than dressing the way she had been. Even her encounter with George wasn't as bad as some of the things she really wanted to do, things that were obviously completely fine in the little seaside town, but not so much in River Heights. But didn't the bigger question have more to do with something she'd already touched on? Wasn't it really about who she was rather than how location determined appropriate behaviour? And when did her morals suddenly take such an abrupt and radical left turn anyway?

Sudden half memories of an interview that she may or may not have experienced, may have been some sort of dream, were abruptly replaced by thoughts of what a beautiful girl she was and how Cinder Bay was such a nice place to be... a nice place to be such a filthy little slut...

"Did you enjoy your meal, Miss Marvin?"

Bess jumped, letting out a startled cry at the sound of Elora's voice just behind her. Turning, she found a dark, tricky grin painted across the woman's entire facial features as she spoke.

"Oh, I've frightened you. I do apologize, Miss Marvin."

"It's okay, I just... I'm alright," Bess assured, suddenly a little overwhelmed at Elora's proximity, the soft, seductive scent of her perfume.

Placing her hands on Bess's shoulders, Elora gently rotated her on her stool so that she was facing Junior, then reached down over her shoulders and brazenly grabbed her nipples through her thin dress.

"(Ga-asp!)"

Junior watched, smiling as Elora pinched and rolled Bess's nipples, the young blonde taken so completely aback by this that she allowed it. Her hands did raise in automatic resistance, but only to stop in mid-air, slowly settling on the bar top, her back arched while she looked down and watched this appallingly pleasurable violation of her young body.

"Uhhh-hh!" Bess moaned. "O-oh my...!"

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" the hostess purred in her ear.

"Ohhh, yesss!"

The heavenly sensations Elora was producing at her nipples were shooting right down to her groin, turning Bess's body on to an incredible degree when the stacked brunette stopped.