Pixies Place Forums - View Single Post - A Story with Sea Chelle

I lay naked on the bed, listening to the muted sounds of the city and the low hum of the air conditioner. I didn’t mind the heat, but sleep was still elusive. There was no real reason for my insomnia. My meetings had concluded earlier in the day with positive, even above average results. I had accomplished all of my objectives and them some. While those back-pats and the accompanying ego boost weren’t the reasons I did my job well, they were appreciated, and I looked forward to them. Despite all that I was restless, edgy—revved. That’s it. I was still humming, burning off the adrenaline rush of success.

Experimentally I stroked my own hand down the length of my naked form pausing to cup the full weight of my breasts, hovering over the planes of my stomach. I felt the slight, anticipated shivers of pleasure of my own touch, but it wasn’t what I wanted, and my fingers faltered before they slipped between my legs, to stroke the warm, slightly damp folds of my sex. I needed more than the good healthy orgasm I could give myself. I needed that breathless feel of being taken, of having lost control completely.

With a laugh I shook my head and rolled off the bed, landing lightly on the balls of my feet. It really was funny, me, here by myself in a strange city, in a nondescript hotel, wishing for a good hard bout of sex. “Not in the cards tonight girl,” I told myself as I looked at my reflection in the mirror across the room. I’d have to find some other way to burn off a little excess energy before I drifted off into sleep.

What did one do in a strange city at 3:30 am? Idly I picked up the hotel services brochure, thumbing through it, shaking my head at the idea of the nightclub, flipping past the local attractions. The sparkling water in the pictures of the pool caught my attention. I imagined the cool water sliding over my skin, arching my back slightly as I imagined the stretch of muscles as I moved through the water. Not hot, greedy sex, but maybe a swim was just the thing to take the edge off.

For a moment I considered not even bothering with a suit, I mean who else was going to have the sudden urge to swim in the roof top pool in the wee hours of morning? But modesty and common sense won out. I’d hate to cap off a very successful week by getting arrested for skinny-dipping in the hotel pool. The bikini was brief, and I chuckled to myself as I realized the black thong, and the small squares of material covering my breasts weren’t much of a concession to modesty. Enough to keep me from being arrested though, and thus attired I grabbed for my robe and headed for the roof.

The air was still warm with the heat of the day, and humidity kissed my skin making me sigh as I drew in deep breaths of the moist air. I stopped at the top of the stairs, growling a little when I realized there was already someone in the pool. I stepped into the shadow of the building, watching for a few minutes, hoping maybe he was just finishing up, that maybe I could still have the pool to myself.

As I stood in the shadows I watched the man in the pool, my lips curving as I took in the breath of his shoulders, the smooth muscles of his arms as he cut through the water. My interest peeked; I stepped a little closer, letting my eyes wander down the curve of his spine to his hips. It was just too delicious when I realized that my view was not obscured by even the briefest of swim trunks. “Well, well,” I murmured as I moved soundlessly down the steps to a seat near the pool's edge, “what have we here?”