In Washington D.C. with Ellen’s Sister

I never expected to find Ellen’s sister naked in my hotel suite. It was a surprise, to walk into my EXECUTIVE WATER VIEW SUITE at Mandarin Oriental Hotel and then suddenly – wham! – it happens. I had arrived early and I put my briefcase on the hall table and walked through to the bedroom. The suite is ‘L’ shaped, and as I move down the carpeted hallway I look to my left, as I go down the corridor. The bathroom door is open and Jenny stood at the sink, her back to the door and naked. Janice is a tall woman, probably about five-ten and she’s slim – well proportioned, if you know what I mean. She is bent over the sink doing something with her hair and her legs are splayed out a little to get her down to the height she wanted without having to bend her knees. It is a very erotic sight, I can tell you: long shapely legs, firm and well toned, and impossibly long – they just seem to go on forever, up and up, each thigh a model of perfection until they reach the neatest little ass I’ve ever seen. It is firm and round, each cup-cake buttock beautifully defined…just begging to be grabbed – framed by the flare of her hips and the tight curve of her waist. The flesh of her back is as smooth as alabaster, a sort of creamy-white color, marked only by the faint outline of where her bra-straps had been. Her head is down, hidden behind her shoulders, and the sound of running water drowned out my gasp of surprise.

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes glued to the view. My mouth dropped open-in shock and surprise. Shock because one moment I’d been thinking about work and the next I had this vision in front of me, only a dozen paces away. Surprise because I’d meet Jenny when Ellen would visit her here in D.C. or when she came to Dallas for a visit. I never realized just what she had hiding under the jeans and baggy sweaters she liked to wear. It was like finding a pile of money under the floor that you never knew you had. I don’t know how long I stood there, gawking at her. Long enough to pick up the small details: the thin gold chain around one shapely ankle: the dimples behind her knees; the smooth warmth of her skin, good enough to eat; the little curve under each buttock that defined their roundness, and the neat little crease above them where the crack of her ass began. Best of all though, was the sight of her pussy peeping back at me from between the cheeks of her ass as she bent forward. It is in shadow but I’m close enough to see it clearly, hiding like a little furry animal in a cave with a few wisps of hair around it, as fine as spun gold – testimony to the fact that she is a genuine blonde.

She must have sensed my gaze, as I stood there staring at her. She stopped all movement and is still for a moment, listening, and then she pushed herself up and turned her head slowly, her eyes peering backwards through the little gap between the smooth skin of her waist and one of her arms. For a moment she is motionless, her eyes on my face. I feel the hot flush of embarrassment staining my cheeks at being caught – but I just couldn’t move: and then she stood up slowly and turned towards me – just standing there, front on. Her breasts are bigger than I had imagined, sitting firm and upright on her rib cage, the nipples thick and protruding. Her pussy hair was neatly trimmed back and the lips of her vulva are slightly open, revealing a gleam of pink wetness behind them; and her hair is wet, a dark blonde, lying around her face as she regarded me. For a long time we stared at each other. Her eyes are grey and steady, neither embarrassed nor angry. She allowed them to roam over me – moving over my body slowly, resting on my crotch for a few moments before sliding back to my face. I can see a gleam of amusement in them, an awareness of the sudden impact she had made on me, and her mouth curled slightly in the faintest of a smile: her teeth so white behind the softness of her lips. I caught the sound of her chuckle: a throaty little laugh that promised almost as much as the sight of her body had – and then she leaned forward and quite slowly and deliberately closed the door, shutting out the best thing I’d seen in a decade.

I’m reading a book in the library and the words are a shapeless blur. My mind is filled with the vision I had just seen… the golden skin, the teardrop breasts and her little furry pussy – and the calm grey of her eyes as she watched me looking at it. Pink Wet. Slightly open. And all this time when she visited I had never noticed. I heard her footsteps on the tiles in the kitchen and them she walked in. Her hair is still damp, but tied back in a little pony tail that lay across the vivid blue material of her blouse like a strip of gold bullion. I looked up at her guiltily. ” I’m…sorry, Jenny. I – I didn’t expect to see you here. I was surprised.” She stopped and looked down at me. ” You sure took your time being surprised.” I’m silent, not knowing what to say. ” Well, what have you got to say?” ” I’ve said I’m sorry.” She leaned forward a little. ” Sorry for what, John, for catching me, or for standing there for half an hour perving when you did?” I stared up at her. She is still looking at me, her eyes bright. ” I wasn’t perving.” She laughed. ” Well, you sure gave a good impression of a perve.” She turned her head on the side and fixed a glassy look on her face, poking her tongue out of the side of her mouth for a moment in an expression of imbecilic attention. ” Just like that, John, for half an hour. I surprised you didn’t drown in the drool that was sliding down your chin.” I laughed with her. ” I wish it had been half an hour. Anyway, its your fault.”
” Me? How’s that?” ” Well, you looked – um, I mean, well – you were worth looking at. What are you doing here?”

” So you’re saying that you liked what you saw. I want to thank you for getting Ellen her new job here.” I looked her in the face. ” Sure.” ” How much?” ” What?” ” How much did you like what you saw?” ” I don’t know what you mean.”
She laughed again. ” Sure you do…in fact, I saw how much you liked it… a lot, judging by the reaction. A huge amount.” I feel myself coloring again. ” So why are you asking me, if you already know?” ” Just checking.” She turned away but stopped by the door and looked at me again. ” It was a perve, you know. Now you owe me.” And before I can answer she had gone in a flurry of skirt, leaving a trace of her perfume and a disturbing memory of that long, golden body. That night when I lay in bed and played the tape in my head again – but the clarity of the image gradually diminished. I never really connected it with going further, either: she was Ellen’s sister, and I didn’t do that. It had been a pleasurable few moments of my life, and time needed to move on. I guess it would have died altogether, like a faded photograph that is finally thrown in the trash, had she not come by my room that night. It is stinking hot: one of those heavy, oppressive days when the air is as thick as a wet sponge. You can almost feel the oppressive air crushing down on the town, robbing everyone of energy. All you wanted to do was to lie down. I had went to bed early and I stripped off and lay on my bed with my eyes shut listening to the occasional growl of thunder and feeling the trickle of sweat on my skin. It was as if the world had stopped and I was the only survivor, lying in bed in a stupor with my eyes shut. I can hear the muffled tick of the old grandfather clock in the hallway and then the faint clunk of its mechanism as it reached the hour and prepared to chime: the crisp click of the gearing, lifting the hammer, drawing it back…and then the first chime, too loud to be through a closed door: and I opened my eyes and see her.

Jenny had opened the door and moved silently across the room to stand next to the bed. She is leaning forward slightly, her weight balanced on one foot as if ready to flee and she is dressed only in a sleeveless sports top and panties. I see the gleam of perspiration on her skin and the hair at her temples is discolored with sweat, darker than its normal shade of pale honey. Her breasts are full and round, pushing against the material of her top, and I can discern the outline of her nipples against the weave of the cloth and the dark shadow of her aureole around them.