Unplanned Vacation Ch. 06

Chapter 6: Cottage

As Eric reached the front door of the house, he tried the knob and discovered that it was locked. He stood there puzzled as to what he should do next and, eventually, it occurred to him to look inside the folder. Clipped to the inside, he found a key, which he promptly tried in the door's keyhole. The door unlocked and he stepped through into a small entryway with a closet on the left-hand side and a standard 1950s style living room with a flower print couch, loveseat, and chair arranged amidst one polished wooden coffee table and two side tables.

The house appeared to have short (i.e., non-shag) wall-to-wall deep red carpeting on the main floor, other than the black ceramic tile floor of the kitchen, which was partly visible through an archway directly ahead of where Eric was standing. Despite the retro feel of the living room furniture, the kitchen appliances were stainless steel and modern. Beyond the living room, Eric could partly see a dining area through another archway that contained a large polished wooden table surrounded by matching wooden chairs.

Eric took his shoes and jacket off and placed them in the closet of the entryway and stepped further into the house/cottage to do some exploring. He walked along a wall on the left-hand side for several feet, encountering a hallway in alignment with the archways that led into the kitchen on the left and into the dining area further to his right. He stepped briefly into the kitchen and peeked into the dining room to admire the appliances and accommodations for entertaining. Through a rear door off the kitchen, he noted a concrete patio equipped with lawn furniture and a large grill for barbecuing. Beyond the patio was a flawlessly groomed green lawn. Eric was pleased with all of the space and options to recreate many details of a middle-class, suburban environment that he was very familiar with from growing up in Scarborough, Ontario.

Eric turned and walked back out into the hallway off the kitchen and turned right. Several feet down the hall, there were two sets of two doors facing each other on the left and right side, and another door stood several feet beyond the furthest set of doors at the end of the hall. He approached the nearest set of doors and found that the one on the left-hand side was locked. He tried the knob of the door to the right, and it turned. Opening the door he discovered an unusually large bedroom. Just to the left of the door in front of him was a wooden four-poster bed that was twice the width and about the same length of a standard king size bed. Windows flanked either side of the bed, presumably providing a view into the back yard. Each window was set into the wall just above a bedside table made of the same dark wood that was used to construct the bed frame. Along the right and left walls stood wide wooden dressers, each with large mirrors attached that completely covered the wall from the top of the dressers to the ceiling. In the far corners of the room from where Eric was standing, there was a door just to the side of each dresser. Eric stepped fully into the room, bringing into view a 60-inch flat-screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed. Eric and Sandra's luggage was stacked at the base of that wall, just below the TV.

Eric was surprised at how much space they would have during their stay. Despite all of the furniture, the bedroom did not feel crowded by any means. Indeed, there was enough space to accommodate six comfortable-looking, cushioned chairs at various points along the four walls. Eric looked at his watch and discovered that it was just before 11:00 AM. He wondered why it was taking Sandra so long to check in, but felt a bit weary from the trip and the events of the morning. He decided to lie on the bed for a spell and see what was on the TV. He hopped on to the left side of the bed, leaning against the mountain of pillows piled up against the headboard. He reached over to the bedside table and grasped the TV remote. After searching briefly for the ON switch, he clicked the TV to life.

The TV screen flared into multi-coloured bursts of fireworks that looked like a computer screen-saver. He pressed an upward-pointing arrow to change the channel and an image appeared, consisting of a bed that was identical to the one he was resting on. Side-by-side in the middle of the bed, two female members of the resort staff rested against pillows, much like he was doing. The only difference was that he was lying with his legs crossed in front of him and they had their knees angled apart and bent, such that he had a clear view of their transparent black underwear. He recognized the woman on the right as his Asian coffee server, Kira, from earlier in the day. The woman on the left was unfamiliar. She had shoulder-length reddish-brown hair that was divided into two long braids that hung on either side of her face. She was strikingly pretty and her face was dotted with freckles, which led Eric to wonder whether her name might be Pippi. She was athletically fit-looking, much like the rest of the resort staff that he had already encountered.

The two women were obviously engaged in a cheerful, animated conversation, alternately directing their gaze to one another, their toes, or at nothing in particular toward the space in front of them. When they weren't smiling, they were laughing uproariously; in some cases, they held their sides from laughing so hard. Eric was frustrated that he couldn't hear any of what they were saying. He assumed that the volume of the TV must have been muted, so he pushed the up arrow on the button labelled "Vol". He watched a line on the TV screen appear above the word "Volume" and watched it grow to the right, but still no sound of their voices emerged from the TV's sound system. Eric contented himself for several minutes, taking in the two women's several attractive body parts and felt his penis stiffen from semi-hard to pulsating granite. His cock had been within that range ever since he had taken his first sip of Kira's coffee more than an hour ago and he was beginning to experience some irritation about it. He was going to need to rub one out very soon, if events refused to allow it to soften entirely.

As much as he hated to remove these two sexy women from view, he was curious about what else he could find on the TV. He changed the channel again and discovered that the image of Kira and her friend remained on the screen. He kept pressing buttons and succeeded in switching to different channels, based on the number that appeared in the upper left-hand corner of the screen. Still, the image of Kira and her co-worker remained. He decided that their channel was a more than satisfactory visual for him, so he gave up trying to switch away from them. Now, with all of his entertainment options limited, he was left with an irresistible urge to strip out of his bottoms and relieve the intense throb between his legs. He shifted his legs to the edge of the bed, stood up, and undressed from the waist down. If he was going to really enjoy a masturbation session, he preferred not to wear shoes and socks, even though their removal wasn't technically necessary.

In the process of half-disrobing, Eric noticed a little book sitting on the shelf below the drawer of the bedside table to his left. His attention had been attracted by the cartoon image of a nude woman on the title page. The woman had long, flowing blonde hair and large, firm breasts. Her legs were spread and she was on her knees, staring provocatively straight into the eyes of anyone who gazed at the book's cover. She held a long leather whip in her outstretched hands, with her arms thrust a bit to the left and her booty thrust a bit to the right. Eric whispered aloud to himself, "Nice pose..."

He picked up the book and silently read the title: "EROTIC STORIES OF REVENGE FROM A TO Z: 26 True Tales of Penetration-Filled Payback". He thought, "This book kind of seems like a perfect stimulation tool for stimulating my tool." Then, he looked at the back of the book and noted a phrase, in quotations, "A perfect stimulation tool for stimulating your tool or your button, as the case might be." The quotation was attributed to Erotic Letters Monthly, which was a publication that Eric had never heard of before.

Eric flipped to a random page in the middle of the latter half of the book to a story entitled, "Snooze Loser". The story was numbered 19 for "S". Eric crawled back up to lean against the pillows on the bed and started reading with his erect penis poking against the spine of the book. This was what he read:

19 SNOOZE LOSER

To keep things confidential, I'll just call myself "C". This letter is the first erotic one I've ever wrote, so I hope people like it. I don't know why I decided to write it. Having done so, I'll probably write more, if something as interesting as the story I'm about to tell ever happens to me again. I'm sure that it will. I'm a girl who finds erotic adventures, if they don't find me first. I should be honest and admit that I didn't write this story to help anybody. There probably won't be anything in this story that people find useful. If I'm wrong about that, I guess that's good, but I really don't care. Mainly, I wrote this story because I like the idea that some man or woman might be able to bring themselves to a nice orgasm by reading about a situation that I found myself in/put myself in. That's the kind of joy that I hope to bring people.

It might help the reader to know what I look like. I'm a petite, 22-year-old Latina woman. My hair is dark brown, straight, and hangs just a few inches past the height of my shoulders. I have firm, but natural, B-size breasts. I seem to have a constant naughty expression on my face, thanks to the twinkle in my big, brown eyes and the perpetual smirk on my full, puffy red lips. I don't want to seem full of myself, but it's important to be honest. I can't go out in public without causing jaws to drop either with lust or envy. I suppose part of these reactions have something to do with my insistence on wearing the hem of my skirts above mid-thigh and tops with necklines that plunge somewhere between the middle of my cleavage or lower. If the weather is warm, when I'm not wearing a skirt, I'm probably wearing tight bicycle shorts that end less than an inch below crotch-level. If the weather is cold, I tend to wear tight jeans or stretch pants that provide excellent views of my little tight behind and my thin, yet muscular, legs.

I grew up in Texas, but moved away from home to study English at Brown University. I just graduated a few months ago. I wanted to experience what it's like to live in New York City, so eight weeks ago I decided to take a job as a bicycle courier, since there really aren't that many jobs for English majors in Manhattan. I've really enjoyed it, so far. My work allows me to meet people all over the city and it's great exercise. It pays pretty well, too. Since I'm very efficient at making my deliveries, it's enough to pay for my little one bedroom apartment in the Village. I guess my only complaint has been that I really don't know many people in the city and I've been a bit lonely.

At Brown, I got used to having lots of girlfriends and, well, having regular sex was nice and something I have missed very much. Since graduating high school, I haven't been at all interested in tying myself down to one guy. I chose to find a group of hot guys at Brown who were ok with sharing casual sexual encounters with me, whenever it made sense for me to hook up with them, according to chance encounters with them at convenient times or to my own whims. The system worked out very well, even though many of the guys were involved more seriously with other girls. For the most part, I seemed to have a talent for picking guys who liked to get together for a fuck session, but would keep it on the down low. That way, I was able to have my fun without being Public Enemy #1 among the female students. Now, things are different and it has been frustrating. I've been working so much and it has been surprisingly difficult to meet people in this overcrowded city. It doesn't help that I'm very picky about who I get involved with, even casually.

Just a few weeks ago, the tide turned a bit. I made a delivery to a 34-year-old anthropology professor at NYU and took the time to ask about his research on the Mayan civilization. I took some courses in human anthropology at Brown and found it all very fascinating. Intelligent men, when they talk passionately about their discoveries and search for knowledge, seem to send an electrical pulse directly to my clitoris. I couldn't resist asking whether he'd like to go for coffee with me sometime. Usually, I hate to be the one to make the first move, but I made an exception in this case. He agreed to meet me on Sunday afternoon, which was my only day off, at a Dean & Deluca close to the university. We really had a good time. He was very funny and smart, so we decided to go out for dinner a few days later. On our third date, he kissed me goodnight before I went up to my apartment, but then we seemed to get stuck halfway to first base.

On our fourth date, we held hands and he kissed me at the end of the night. Then, it was the same on the fifth and sixth dates. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy his company. It's just that things didn't seem to be progressing at all. I found it all very frustrating. I thought it was ridiculous that I hadn't had sex for three weeks. At Brown, and back home in Austin, I had sex at least three times per week. I think it was making me a bit crazy. By the end of our seventh date, I decided to take charge of things more. When he walked me home to my building, I asked whether he would mind walking me to my door, since there had been some issues with break-ins at my building, recently. That part was a lie, but I thought that I could get him into my apartment and then into my pants if I could get him up to my door. When we arrived at my door, I thanked him for a fantastic evening, kissed him on the lips, and invited him in for coffee. To my horror, he told me he was very tired and needed to get on back home. It was only just after 8:00 PM!

Angry, insulted, and sexually frustrated, I left him to enter my apartment. I stormed into my bedroom, tossed my handbag onto the bedside table, and threw myself onto my bed. I keep a long vibrator/dildo in my drawer that, I'm sad to say, I've had to use quite a lot over the past several weeks. I grabbed it, hiked my mini-skirt up to my waist, lifted my knees up, and spread them at a 45-degree angle. I twisted the switch on the dildo to make it vibrate and sucked and licked it until it was sufficiently lubricated. Then, I used my left hand to pull my panties to the side and, with my right hand, I guided it slowly into my pussy. It felt so good, but I couldn't shake my resentment for having to resort to an electrical device to maintain my sanity. I just didn't think it was reasonable to expect someone as hot as me to find it so difficult to get laid.

Leaving the dildo vibrating away inside me, I reached over to the table and retrieved the phone from my purse. When I moved in, I ran into a man from the upstairs apartment. He had given me his number and told me that I should call if I ever needed anything. He was reasonably attractive, but I hadn't really seen him much, since then. We passed each other in the lobby a few times, but that was all. I know it seems a bit desperate, but I thought that it was worth a try. I called his number and said, "Hi, S., this is C. calling. I don't know if you remember who I am, but I live in the apartment just below you and..."

He interrupted me and said, "Of course, I remember. What can I do for you?"

I asked, "Are you at home right now? If so, are you alone? I mean, are you busy at all?"

"I'm just watching TV right now. Yes, I'm alone. What's up?" he replied.

I said, "That's great news. I know this might sound a bit strange, neighbour, but I have a big vibrator inside me and I'd really prefer that the thing inside me were attached to a man, if you get my meaning."

After a few moments of silence, his response was, "Of course, I'll be right down."

I put the vibrator back in the drawer and heard a knock at my door just a few seconds later. Opening the door, I discovered him dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt and he had bare feet.

He said, "I'm sorry for how I'm dressed. I promise that I'm clean. I just didn't expect to be going anywhere tonight."

I smiled and reassured him: "No, it's totally fine. I think you look very good to me." I wasn't lying. He was a tall and good-looking guy, who just happened to be very casually dressed. Also, my hope was that he wouldn't be wearing clothes for very long. I took him by the hand and pulled him inside. Closing and locking the door, I guided him into my bedroom.

I was worried that he didn't think I was serious, so I told him, looking intensely into his eyes, "Please stand here in the doorway. Once I'm in position, I'm all yours, baby." With that, I crawled up onto my bed on my hands and knees and pulled my skirt up onto my back, giving him a clear view of the red, bikini-style panties that barely covered my ass. I turned my head around to look at him and wink as I pulled my panties to the side to reveal my ass crack and my pussy, which was still glistening and engorged from working it with the vibrator.

I will never forget the look of joy on his face as he realized he wasn't dreaming and that he was experiencing the best surprise of his life. As I watched, he stripped completely naked with lightning speed and then made a gesture with his hands that I interpreted as: "Is this ok?" I nodded, sincerely, since he was in obvious great shape and his large and gradually increasing erection looked so delicious to my sex-starved mind. He stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around the sides of my panties, pulling them down to my knees. He positioned me at the edge of the bed such that my ankles were hanging off and then I felt his cock sliding easily into my slippery opening.

I couldn't help moaning, "Oh, God...", as he thrust eight or so hard, thick inches into me in one stroke and started fucking me in and out so hard that I could hear his balls slapping against me with each stroke. Although I was well lubricated, his cock was thick, so I could feel my pussy stretching with each stroke, especially as the large knob at the end partially popped out and then in again as he slammed the length of his shaft fully into me. He seemed to notice and gasped, "Oh, my God, you're so tight."

After a couple of minutes, S. slowed his thrusting a bit, obviously wanting to enjoy every second of his good fortune. Now, I felt him sliding in and out of me very gradually. Meanwhile, he used his hands to grab and smack my ass roughly, but not causing any serious pain. It was wonderful, since it allowed me to feel every inch in both directions. I thought I would cum at any moment, when I was suddenly distracted by a knock at the door. Instinctively, I knew who it was and I admit that I still harboured some resentment from the events that took place earlier in the evening. I told S., "Wait, stop. Just pull out for a few moments. I'll be right back."

I got up and let my panties fall the rest of he way to the floor. I also wiggled out of my skirt and took my bra off, which left me naked except for the little white tank top I was wearing that did a bad job at hiding my nipples from view. I closed S. behind my bedroom door before I walked to the door of my apartment. I put on a phony smile as I answered the knock, encountering (as I expected) my anthropology professor standing on the other side.

I pressed a finger to my lips to discourage him from saying anything and then I used my finger as a signal for him to follow me into the apartment. It was very gratifying to see how wide his eyes got when he saw me practically naked and I will forever enjoy speculating about what he must have been thinking was going to happen as he watched my naked ass as I walked him to my bedroom door.