The Mystery at Faldor Hotel Ch. 17

Part one

Eloise Drew was still perspiring as she sat at the bar in the dining room lounge, sipping a rather strong glass of cognac and cola, her second since parking her slim, yet shapely behind on the bar stool. The ice in her glass rattled as her trembling hand lifted it to her mouth, and it wasn't the potent mix that she wiped from her upper lip after she put the glass down on the bar top in front of her.

The bartender, a man named Junior who was as black as her drink was strong, seemed to understand that she wished to be left alone after his first attempt at friendly conversation fell flat. He was currently polishing glasses at the far end of the bar while she tried to avoid her reflection in the mirror behind it. She felt bad. The young man seemed friendly enough, but she wasn't in the frame of mind to speak of casual trivialities just then.

The mature schoolteacher's mind reeled from shock at her behaviour with the three indecently dressed girls to repeated, lustful memories of their tight, young bodies and uncontrollable images of herself doing all sorts of very improper things with them. These images even included her niece, Nancy, but most especially young George Fayne, whose panty hidden vagina was so wet...

With a sharp, but subtle shake of her head, she removed her mind from George's crotch, suddenly remembering the way she'd almost hiked her skirt to show them her panties at audacious Bess's challenge, her hand twitching to do so before her mind finally stopped her body and mouth from her own excitingly disgraceful behaviour with the three desirable young girls. She wondered if she should have done it after all just to prove to Bess that she was indeed wearing panties the way proper women ought to. What would they have thought of her black lace thong? Would George have stuck her hand down her own panties as Bess had? Would they have demanded that she show them her bra as well? If she'd refused, would they have forced her down on one of the beds to look for themselves, the two cousins pulling her breasts out of her sexy, black lace bra to begin sucking at her breasts while her niece pulled her thong down to feast on her wet-?

Once again, she jerked her mind away from such improper thoughts, her lungs emitting a small gasp that even she barely heard. Taking another sip, she suddenly remembered some curious looks that George had given Nancy while she was dressing the three girls down, quite literally, as it had unfortunately turned out. There at the bar, hindsight was twenty-twenty and those expressions could stand by themselves in her mind, propped up for inspection without (for the most part) the distraction of the ongoing moment.

The expression in George's face was certainly one of fear and guilt at being caught in shameful behaviour. This was a given, but there was also a fear in her eyes as she regarded Nancy. It was the fear of someone who was about to lose something she cherished, something she loved. And Nancy had looked at George with unmistakable guilt in her eyes more than once, as she had with lust at the slim brunette's figure, so like her own.

Were they both lesbians?

This wouldn't have surprised Eloise where George was concerned, but it would definitely come as a surprise where Nancy was concerned. Her brother's daughter had always been so upstanding, so perfect as to be almost sickening and, had she not been her own beloved niece, Eloise had always known that she wouldn't have much cared for the girl. The fact was that she was a know-it-all, like one of those young people who act older than what they are, looking for respect and equality from elders that they hadn't yet earned, but the truth was that Nancy, while very intelligent and quick witted, was also quite naïve in many ways and, if she and George were in fact a couple, Eloise was forced to wonder what a fine girl like George could ever see in Nancy.

Yet, thinking back to how George had always been with Nancy, the unquestioning loyalty, the staunch devotion, that way she had of looking up to the girl who was actually a year younger than her, Eloise wondered if she shouldn't have seen a deeper connection between the two long before.

Thoughtfully, she finished her drink, its leftover ice falling against her upper lip before she put the glass down. Junior was already moving to make her another, passing her a smile that questioned his actions as he did so. She nodded her answer to his unspoken assumption while someone sidled up on her left.

"One for me too, Junior," a familiar voice requested.

It was Bess, still wearing the whorishly indecent little red dress, climbing up on the stool beside her as Junior nodded again in answer to the young woman who had no business drinking at her age. Both women looked at each other, Bess carefully smiling at her elder while Eloise was just as carefully blank faced.

"So, uhhh..." Bess began with the same careful smile, "quite the scene up there, huh?"

Eloise returned a grimace before facing forward again, declining comment and trying not to think of the scene Bess referred to and how she'd handled it.

"Well, you should have seen it after you left," Bess hinted.

"Shook things up, did I?" Eloise asked with a sarcasm that she hoped covered the light tremor in her voice.

"I'd say, yeah."

"I suppose my arrival is quite inconvenient for whatever you three have been up to here."

With a careless shrug, Bess replied, "Maybe. Maybe it's for the best."

Looking to her left again, Eloise regarded the young woman who, beyond her scandalous attire, seemed somehow different before asking with a cold tone, "Oh? And how is that?"

" ... A lot more was said after you left. There's been a lot going on here and your arrival has brought some things to the surface that... Well, hopefully things will work out well. Especially for George."

"George?"

"For all her bravado, she's quite vulnerable. I suppose we all are when it comes to the things we really care about."

"And what does George really care about that makes her so vulnerable?" Eloise asked with a neutral tone that hid her suspicions of the answer to her own question.

"That's for George to say, not me," Bess stated with an easier, more congenial tone. "All I'm saying is that things with the three of us are more complicated than you might think, and have been for a little while. Our arrival in Cinder Bay has brought some of these complications to light and- Oh, thank you, Junior," Bess interrupted herself with a smile for Junior as he set their completed drinks in front of them before she continued. "And maybe that's a good thing. Maybe these things are best faced up to before we go on."

"So, how is it that Cinder Bay has brought these things, whatever they are, to light?" Asked Eloise, lifting her third cognac to her lips as her glance helplessly found its way down the front of Bess's little red dress. Her tone had become more curious than reproving, yet her demeanor was still careful.

"Well, Cinder bay is a little more relaxed than River Heights. I think one could say that people who come here feel free to be themselves, even if they might not know who or what that is at first."

"So, you three found yourselves to be exhibitionists?"

At first, Bess only smiled as she took a drink, aware of Eloise's glance at her thighs. Putting her glass down, she thought a moment before answering with, "I am. I think Nancy and George are too, but not so much as me."

"Well... you certainly seem very different than the young lady I knew in River Heights. Must be quite a little town for such a change to happen so fast."

"I wouldn't say I've changed," Bess countered, returning a casual look at Eloise's bust line before moving her eyes to the schoolteacher's face.

"I would," Eloise contradicted. "And I'm willing to bet your parents would agree with me."

" ... Like I said," Bess replied, her demeanor congenial in the face of Eloise's repeated implied threat, "I've just felt free to be the person I am. I like dressing like this. I would have back home if conditions allowed but, as I'm sure you're aware, River Heights is a little too uptight for some preferred lifestyles."

Eloise's eyes widened, heartrate speeding as she glared at the bold teen who circled the rim of her glass with a finger and a carefree smile on her face. With it in mind that Bess was only on a fishing expedition with this comment, her own implied threat, she decided not to rise to the bait.

"Yes, I am aware. I grew up there, and it's not hard to imagine how you'd be labelled if the people there could see you now."

"Perhaps. Maybe I should move to New York?"

Ignoring Bess's further implication as to why Eloise had moved to New York, she retorted, "Dressed like that, I'm sure you'd soon find a street corner where you'd fit right in."

Bess turned to regard Eloise, yet without a trace of upset at the older woman's insult. With the same carefree smile, she seemed to be evaluating Nancy's aunt, deciding on a course of action before her eyes dropped pointedly to her bust line as she spoke.

"Has anyone ever told you what an attractive woman you are?"

" ... What?" Eloise almost stammered, her heartrate rising again at the unexpected compliment as the effects of the cognac began to take hold.

"You're very pretty. I'm sure Susan must have told you."

"Why would she?"

"You are friends."

"She's never mentioned it," Eloise carefully lied.

"How is it that an attractive woman such as yourself has never found a husband?"

With another involuntary glance down Bess's deep cleavage, the schoolteacher replied in a clipped tone that almost hid her nervous tension, "That's none of your business, young lady."

"I'm just asking, Eloise," Bess defended, her manner still congenial as her thighs parted ever so slightly. "I mean, a woman as pretty as you are, and with such a beautiful body, must have had a lot of proposals from her suitors over the years. I'm surprised you've never found someone, especially in a city as big as New York."

"We're not talking about me," Eloise told her in what she hoped was a firm tone. "We're talking about you, Nancy and George dressing like prostitutes. In fact, I've seen prostitutes dressed more appropriately."

"Are those the ones you take home?" Bess asked with a dirty, leering smile.

Eloise's jaw fell as she stared at Bess. The girl only giggled at this reaction, running her eyes over Eloise's body with an undisguised approval that spurred Eloise's already errant hormones. Did Bess really know of her sexual preferences? And, if so, was she making a pass at her or only teasing her? Threatening her?

She finally replied in hissing outrage, "Why, I-I'll have you know, I've never had a prostitute!"

Bess, still tipsy and aroused from her time at the boutique earlier, giggled and took a drink from her glass before explaining, "Well, you seem to go on about them so... Would you like to pretend that I'm a prostitute? Maybe take me upstairs and take my dress off? Maybe suck on my titties until I cum in my panties?"

Recognizing her own earlier words to George didn't help Eloise to form any reply to the subtle accusation, as she could somehow sense a real offer behind the taunt. She flushed again, swallowing as her eyes once again helplessly took in the curvy teen, a flood of sexual images of herself and Bess streaming through her mind along with an almost certain knowledge that they were all possible and at hand.

"Bess," she whispered, "you... you're a very naughty girl..."

"You have no idea. Maybe you should spank me..."

"Oh, god...!" Eloise moaned so low that Bess barely heard, a desperate reaction of her now racing hormones to the teen's suggestion that she carry out one of her own favourite sexual fantasies, one which George Fayne had been the star of so many times as to be uncountable.

"Mmmm... Struck a nerve, have I?"

"Bess..." Eloise managed in a throaty whisper, staring right into the eyes of the bold blonde girl beside her as she marshalled whatever was left of her will, "Get out of my sight."

"I think we both know that's the last thing you-"

"Right now, young lady!"

After a dangerous pause, during which time Bess's leering smirk felt free to once more travel Eloise's body, the teen threw back her drink before addressing the bartender, a person whose presence Eloise had completely forgotten about.

"On my tab, Junior?"

"Of course, Miss Marvin," he agreed with a blinding white smile.

With a last, tricky grin for Eloise, the curvy teen slipped off her stool and started for the exit, wiggling a perfectly round bottom that hung out of the bottom of her dress as Eloise helplessly watched, forcing herself not to follow, not to take Bess up on her all too tempting offer to spank that lovely bottom. Alone with the bar tender once again, she downed her own drink with trembling hand and signalled the tall black man for another.

Part two

The beautiful Atlantic view was blurred by tears that George couldn't keep her eyes clear of. She feared to think what her makeup must look like as she quietly cried by the rear veranda's railing in the early evening light.

In one day, she'd gained what she'd always wanted, then lost it again. It was a cruel twist of fate that the tall, slender brunette could barely understand, let alone accept, and she wondered if she would have been better off if she and Nancy hadn't had the sexual encounters she'd so cherished. For all her loyalty, all she'd said while pouring her heart out before she'd retreated from their suite, Nancy didn't seem to understand her feelings for her. The love of her life simply didn't seem able to appreciate what all her words were really saying, how valuable her feelings were and, for the first time, she was forced to re-evaluate the friend she thought she'd known so well, to look at Nancy Drew in a very different light.

Nancy, as it seemed, was a two dimensional, emotionally shallow person who had little use for others beyond how they could serve her interests, namely those of solving mysteries. This wasn't to say that she was a user, or even self centered, as such a determination would indicate, rather that she was almost completely incapable of living outside of her interest in mystery and adventure. As George thought of it, Nancy had no real interests, no friends other than herself and Bess, and this was only because the two of them would often accompany her on said adventures. Outside of these, neither of the two girls ever really saw her.

And Ned, regardless of his cheating, was the same. Nancy rarely actually dated him and maybe it wasn't so much that he didn't have time for her as it was the other way around. Maybe it was no wonder that he cheated on her. Maybe he was only looking for a girl with some personality to offer. Then again, maybe the two were much alike and well suited to one another in the sense that they both only served a purpose for one another.

Was any of this true? All of it? It was hard for George to believe that she could be so deeply in love with such a person, one who was such an emotionally blank page, but it did explain how she was able to take such easy intimate control of a girl who seemed so authoritative otherwise. Nancy was no more than a half developed character in a badly written novel that was her life.

Looking at her in such a light, George felt a fool for not seeing this of her un-requiting love before but, at the same time, she couldn't help but feel bad for her. What must it be like to be so single minded? What kind of person would Nancy be if, for whatever reason, she was no longer able to solve mysteries, to indulge in the dangerous adventures that dominated her interests to the exclusion of any real passion, or true love for another? The fact was that, if Nancy never saw George or Bess again, she would simply go on solving mysteries by herself if need be. Yes, they would be missed, but only as companions that served this adventurous pastime.

So, now what? Would she try to ignore her feelings for Nancy? Find some other woman to love, one who could and would appreciate the feelings she had to offer and return them, or would she fight for Nancy? Would there be any point in such a fight? Could Nancy ever be made, or taught to see the true value and importance in such things as what George had to offer her?

She heaved a heavy sigh as the weight of a depressive sadness she'd never known began to settle on her shoulders. She sniffed, blinking more quiet tears away before hearing the service door open, then slam shut behind her. She didn't turn to see who it was, barely registered the sound of heels approaching her, but started at the sound of Elora's sultry voice.

"Why, hello, Miss Fayne. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, dear."

George failed to respond apart from quickly stepping away to her left in order to open a three foot distance between herself and the voluptuous beauty to her right. She stared with wide eyed mistrust and fear, though the latter had abated somewhat since their meeting in Suite 305. Though she couldn't have explained why, George felt there was no real need to fear Elora as someone who meant her harm. These feelings now stemmed more from a fear of the unknown due to the woman's obvious involvement in whatever was going on regarding the crystal columns and, of course, that writhing, unnatural tongue that had taken her virginity. Yet, the memory of that event, again, seemed to tickle her curiosity and her sex drive as much as it touched on her natural fear of the unknown and, as she stood to Elora's right, she couldn't help enjoying how her nipples hardened.

Elora, meanwhile, didn't seem to notice, or at least mind, the less than subtle distancing of George from her side. She only looked at her with an apologetic/probing expression before directing her eyes out over the waters of the great Atlantic, speaking in a relaxed, almost content voice.

"I met your friend, Bess Marvin, earlier today."

George offered no answer to this, only continuing to stare as though she couldn't rip her eyes from the woman she feared, even while harbouring a subtle, yet undeniable attraction to.

"Pleasant girl," Elora judged, adding with a smile, "Horny girl. I like her. Not the same way I like you, though."

George wanted to ask why this was, but it was as though her voice couldn't find the breath to do so. Elora, in any case, was willing to explain.

"You're so brave, so... alive and passionate about life. I could tell this from the first moment I saw you in my dining room. And you taste... so delicious. And I very much enjoyed watching you and Miss Drew with your hands down each other's panties, though your reaction was much more enjoyable. Tell me; did you two play with each other further when you got to your suite?"

Again, George seemed unable to find the breath to reply until Elora turned to look at her with expectation in her features.

"A- (ahem) I... yes." She managed in a small voice.

"Mmm. Did she lick your pussy, George?"

George shook her head in the negative.

"That's a shame. She'd have very much enjoyed the taste. You should tell her to lick your pussy the next time you see her."

Incredibly, George only nodded, mouth slightly open and dumbstruck.

"A very pretty girl, Miss Drew. Somewhat of an overly proper little bitch, I think, but you chose well. Of course, she doesn't hold a candle to you in any way. ... Take your blouse off."

She'd said it with her Hostess smile, yet there was no mistaking the continued expectation behind the directive any more than the anticipation in her eyes. Yet, George could only stand, paralyzed in shock as her lower jaw sagged further, eyes opening wider at the woman who she now sensed was used to an authority much larger than what the confines of the dining room afforded her.