How to Fix a One-Star Review

I let my gaze carefully drift across the sun-soaked surroundings. Behind my sleek, black shades, no one could tell exactly where I was looking. I'd been assigned a very important task, and hell, I was determined to prove myself. My mission? Find that guy--the one who left a one-star review after just a single day at the resort where I work and didn't even leave a reason why. My manager took it personally, and when we take things seriously, it usually means a low-paid worker like me gets stuck cleaning up the shit.

I decided to take a different approach. There was no way in hell I was going to march up and talk to a pissed-off customer--confrontation just wasn't my thing. Nope, I was going to be creative. That's how I ended up lounging by the pool in my tight bikini, pretending to be just another carefree guest.

I strolled around, doing my best to look casual--not suspicious in the slightest. Just another girl in a thong, flaunting a sculpted ass that still had its charm. Sure, my modeling career fizzled out after a brief five minutes of fame about two years ago, but hey, the assets are still working overtime.

As I wandered around the sunlit pool area, I spotted him, at least I assumed it was judging by his looks. Sitting on one of the lounge chairs, utterly absorbed in whatever was happening on his phone. My target. My problem. My victim.

I took a breath, adjusted my tiny towel, and moved in a little closer, careful not to draw attention. Slowly, I perched myself at the edge of the pool, letting my feet slip into the cool water. The view in front of me was postcard-perfect--a vast, azure ocean stretching endlessly under the clear sky, the sun perched high and bright. The air was thick with the blend of salt and chlorine, that classic vacation aroma that almost had me convinced I was on holiday. Almost. But let's not get distracted--I wasn't here for the palm trees or the postcard-perfect skies. My real focus was the male in his 30s, lounging right behind me.

Settling into my spot, I kept my gaze fixed on the ocean, all while sneaking glances in his direction. I was trying to figure him out. What was his deal? What made him tick? I've always been good at reading people--better than most, actually. And the best part? I didn't have to say a word. Talking wasn't exactly my strong suit anyway; my anxiety made sure of that.

He raised his gaze from his phone and his eyes drifted over me, lingering just a moment longer on my body than I expected. I froze. Wait... was he checking me out? Did I blow my cover already?

Without giving it much thought, I tried to get up and shift away, hoping to avoid any attention. But of course, the ground was slick, my body was sweaty, and next thing I knew, my clumsy ass slipped out from under me. I took a dive, letting out a high-pitched squeak that luckily was quickly drowned out by the water that followed.

That's it. I failed. I thought to myself, sinking further into the water. Let it swallow me. I didn't even know how to swim. How was I supposed to finish the mission if I couldn't even stay afloat? I've really messed up this time, haven't I, manager? I've failed you.

I closed my eyes, ready to just sink into my humiliation. But then, someone grabbed my arm and hauled me up to the surface. I gasped for air, my lungs desperate, and when I opened my eyes, everything was bright. I couldn't make out the blurry silhouette of a man in front of me since the sun was hitting my eyes.

„Hey! Are you okay?" He asked with worry, and a slight gentleness that made me shiver. I nodded and tried to smile. He looked lower, lower than my eyes. And I felt it too. My bikini top was all over the place and well. I unintentionally have given him a full view of my perky boobs.

That's it. It can't get worse. I want to go back underwater.

„D-don't look!" I yelped, hastily covering my breasts with my hands as he hauled me out of the water. He couldn't stop grinning, not even hiding that he enjoyed what he saw.

I coughed, my cheeks blazing as I fumbled for composure. "Thank you... I--I don't know what happened. I can't explain it," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper, all the while adjusting the tight triangles of fabric clinging precariously to my chest.

He nodded, grabbing a towel and handing it to me with an easy smirk. "You looked a little distracted back there. Happens to the best of us," he teased, settling himself beside me like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I swallowed hard, suddenly more nervous than wet.

"I'm Jean. Jean Moreau," he said smoothly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "And you are?"

Jean. Of course. My target had walked right into my trap. All part of the master plan, obviously. The slip? The wardrobe malfunction? Totally scripted. Executed to perfection.

"I'm... I'm Zofia," I replied, figuring honesty was the safest play. No point in lying; there was no way he'd recognize me from the reception desk--there, I was just another overworked employee, not this exaggerated caricature of a poolside sexbomb I was trying to pull off.

"Zofia, huh?" he repeated, the faint curiosity in his tone immediately making my overthinking brain spiral. Was he confused? Judging me? Did I look too ordinary, too out of place for a place like this? Before he could say anything else, my nerves took over.

"Ah, you know! I came here for a little break. I, uh, usually work as a model--things have been rough lately, so I figured a holiday might help." The words spilled out faster than I could stop them, and as soon as I saw his raised eyebrow, I knew I'd overdone it.

"A model?" he repeated, chuckling. "I was actually just going to ask if you're enjoying your holiday, but thanks for the life story, I guess!"

My face turned red as the sting of embarrassment hit. Did I just completely misread him? Of course, I had. Damn it, I wasn't used to talking to hot guys.

He must have noticed my flustered state because he placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch unexpectedly gentle. His smile softened, and I felt my skin burn under his fingers--not in a bad way, though.

"Why so nervous? Are you here alone, or have you got some friends with you?"

I sighed, twirling a strand of my hair around my finger as a distraction. "Ah, life's so hectic that I barely have time for friends. This holiday was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. How about you?"

He smiled knowingly. "Needed a breather. Work's been a real pain in the ass lately." He sighed, his gaze shifting to the view in front of us for a moment before looking back at me.

A spark of excitement ran through me. He seemed genuine, and he didn't know who I really was. I decided to test the waters. 'So, are you enjoying your stay? You look a little... bored,' I said, squinting at him as I took a guess--though he didn't seem to notice.

"Bored?" He smirked, shaking his head. "Not exactly. But I've got nothing to do right now. Maybe you'd like to keep me company? We could grab a drink."

Got it. Nothing to do. Clearly, that was the reason for his bad review. I smiled, nibbling on my nail as if I were considering his offer.

"Hm, I mean, it doesn't sound bad..." My voice trailed off as my brain caught up with the situation. Drinks at the bar were outrageously expensive, and the bartender would instantly recognize me as staff. That'd blow my cover before I even got a chance to salvage this situation.

He tilted his head, a mischievous chuckle escaping his lips. "Oh? I know it's not. It's my treat." He winked.

My heart skipped a beat. Great, now he's flirting.

"Oh, no need to. But if you insist..." I stood up, wrapping the towel around my shoulders, trying to act casual even though my pulse was racing. I forced a smirk, hoping it looked confident. "Do you have a favorite bar? I could recommend something! The one on the top floor has a pretty view."

Smooth, Zofia. Real smooth. I didn't know anyone from the top floor bar, so no one would recognise me.

He swept his gaze over my body, completely unbothered by how obvious he was being. It was clear as day he was interested in me. And I was more than willing to use that to my advantage. I watched as he grabbed his things from the lounge chair, glancing back at me over his shoulder. "No, I haven't been there. I just arrived yesterday, so I haven't had much time to explore." He ran his fingers through his hair, giving me a lingering look. "We can check it out. But first, would you like to stop by my apartment? I need to drop off my stuff."

I blinked, my mind racing for a second, before I nodded. "Sure... your apartment. Please, lead the way."

And he did. I followed him through the familiar corridors, nothing about the path feeling out of the ordinary. But the moment we stepped into his suite, I couldn't help but smile. It was stunning--luxurious, even. A large window framed a breathtaking view of the ocean, a king-sized bed sat elegantly in the center of the room, and a small but modern kitchen was tucked away in one corner.

He quickly moved to put his belongings away, and I took the opportunity to pace slowly around the room, letting myself soak in the details. Everything about the space felt special, far removed from what I was used to. Usually, I wasn't allowed in places like this--my job kept me at the edges, not in the heart of luxury. To actually take it all in without rushing felt like a guilty pleasure.

My gaze drifted to his nightstand, one of the drawers slightly ajar. Inside, I noticed a wallet and, tucked beside it, a small ring. It was striking--large diamond glimmering in the soft light. My stomach churned. I couldn't help but snort, shaking my head. Being rich really makes you weird, I thought. Who keeps a ring like that in a wallet? It was a strange choice. And yet, there it was, like it had just been carelessly tossed aside. I bit the inside of my cheek thinking that I wouldn't mind having it...

While I was absorbed in the surroundings, I realized he was watching me, I could feel his glances on my skin. It was making me tingly in the right places.

"Zofia... I can't quite place your accent. Where are you from?" he asked, his voice smooth yet genuinely curious.

I raised an eyebrow, momentarily caught off guard by the question. That he even noticed felt... unexpected. "Oh, I'm from Poland," I replied, biting my nail absently as a small wave of self-consciousness washed over me. "Does it matter?"

His lips curled into a soft, knowing smile that made his features even more attractive, as if he was entirely aware of the effect he had on people. "Not at all. I was just curious," he said, his tone light but sincere. He reached out and casually brushed his fingers through a strand of my hair, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "I'd like to know more about you. Are you enjoying your stay?" he asked, leaning in just enough to blur the space between us.

The warmth of his touch and the soft pull in his voice made it hard to focus. Still, I couldn't let myself lose sight of my real purpose here. Smiling, I leaned into his touch slightly, letting just a hint of coyness creep into my expression. "I am," I said, biting my lip before continuing. "This place is really fun, and there's so much to do. You should explore more--I can even recommend a few things."

He stepped behind me, his hands sliding onto my shoulders in a way that was almost too intimate. My heart jumped at the unexpected gesture, and I tilted my head back to glance at him.

"Fun things, you say? Speaking from experience?" he teased, his voice dropping slightly, as though testing the waters.

I matched his smirk, letting my lips curl into a playful smile. "You can trust my judgment," I replied, my voice light and teasing. "I'm very good at knowing what people enjoy."

He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on me with a heat that was impossible to ignore. "Oh? I don't doubt that," he murmured, leaning in just a little closer. "I bet you're good at a lot of things."

I blinked, surprised by his sudden closeness. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me in gently. "You're a sweet girl," he said, his voice low, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're making me feel like I've drunk too much--and we've only known each other for a few minutes."

I tensed when his palm slid over my stomach, moving lower, dangerously close to the line of my still-drenched bikini bottoms. The only thing I could manage to say, barely able to breathe, was, "Alcohol? You can't drink at the pool... It's against the resort rules."

I tried to keep it serious, but the way my heart was racing betrayed me.

He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if he couldn't quite believe what he heard. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, but I wasn't backing down. I was just trying to save myself from a situation that was quickly spiraling out of control. Sleeping with random guys wasn't my thing--at least, not usually. But... maybe I deserved to make an exception. Let a girl have a little fun. After all, I didn't get this kind of attention often, and there was something about the way he looked at me that made my heart race.

"Fuck it," I whispered with a giggle, wrapping my fingers around his hand. I arched my back, pressing my firm ass against his bulge, feeling his hard response. Curiosity flickered--what else did he have to offer?

But hey, it's all for the job, right? I mean, if I can satisfy my manager's impossible standards, maybe it'll keep me from getting fired.

I was just trying to justify my sins, but I couldn't help myself, he really was an attractive guy.

He chuckled, sensing my eagerness. "You know, I'm not trying to be pushy, and I don't mean to come off as a creep." His breath lingered in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "You're the most stunning woman I've met so far, and honestly, you're fascinating. I'd love to hear more about your modeling career, what you like... but I think the bed might be a more comfortable place for our little chat, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes at that. "Oh, so you're saying I can just leave if I'm not interested, huh?"

He smiled and nodded, his hands pulling away from my body as if he wasn't sure if I wanted him to keep going. But I was already hooked--there was no way I'd let him slip away that easily. Had nothing to do? Oh, I'd make sure that changed.

I grabbed his hands and placed them back on my body. His slightly wet, chiseled abs rubbed against my slippery back, his hands exploring my burning skin, and the texture of them--it was like a pleasant, slow burn, sending sparks through every nerve. When his fingers slipped under my bra and removed that piece of fabric from the way, I simply gasped. He circled my nipple with his thumb and rubbed the skin around it, earning a needy whine from me. I guided his thumb right on my nipple, showing him to pinch it, while biting my lower lip. Then I giggled.

"You've already seen them, so why the surprise?" I raised an eyebrow, teasing him as I caught the shift in his expression.

He grabbed both of my boobs in his palms, groping them, while kissing and biting on my neck. I'd always considered myself modestly endowed, but in his hands, they seemed to be just the right size, like If they were made for his enjoyment. It made me slightly proud, especially considering that they captured his attention.

Jean gently, with no hurry, guided me toward his bed. I followed, my fingers grazing his bulge just enough to catch his subtle reaction. I didn't need anyone to tell me what to do--I knew exactly what I wanted. Now, I just hoped my date wouldn't disappoint me.

I climbed on the soft mattress, positioning myself on all fours, watching his expression over my shoulder. It was making me more aroused than I wanted to admit. I arched my back like a cat, purring as I tugged at my bikini bottoms. "You mentioned being bored here," I said with a smirk. "I can't believe a handsome man like you has no one to play with. I guess I'll have to step in, huh?"

After all, a part of my job is keeping the guests entertained. I felt like taking my job seriously for once, alright. It was a one time thing.

He was flabbergasted, to say the least. Maybe even blushed a little bit, but from my position it was difficult to notice. I pulled down my panties, letting them pool around my knees. There was nothing to hide, my nicely shaved pussy was on full display and I knew that he was hungry for it. I couldn't stop myself from smirking, when I grabbed my buttcheeks to spread them, taunt him more.

Jean gulped and licked his dry lips, his eyes scanning me with reverence. Then he stepped closer, his fingers lightly grazing my skin as if to confirm I was real. "Damn," he murmured, his voice low. "You're like a work of art. Hard to believe you'd share it so freely."

His voice was teasing while his hands got playful - exploring my buttocks and that little playground between them.

„I never said it's free. For access I expect an outstanding performance" I murmured and winked at him. Soon after my words I could feel his fingers entering my pussy, stretching my walls and getting me to roll my eyes up. His fingers were thick and calloused, making me shiver and moan while he looked for the places that made me act up. His other hand gripped my ass, squeezing my soft flesh, playing with it as if it were jelly.

His hands roamed over my body, deliberate and unhurried, igniting a slow burn wherever they lingered. His lips brushed against my neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made my skin tingle. When his mouth moved to my shoulder, I tilted my head to give him more access, a quiet sigh escaping my lips.

I turned in his arms, wrapping mine around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer until there wasn't an inch of space between us. His warmth, his scent--it was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and danger.

My fingers slid down his chest, tracing the ridges of muscle. They lingered at the waistband of his shorts, teasing the edge and pulling on it softly. Slowly, deliberately, I let them dip just beneath the material, brushing against the hot skin there.

In my head, I justified every inch I crossed as part of the mission--after all, anything could be, right? Or at least, that's what I told myself as my fingers ventured lower. And I was getting way more excited about it than I anticipated. My imagination ran wilder than I ever thought possible, the heat of the moment fueling thoughts I barely dared entertain before. I wanted to know--no, I needed to know--what he was hiding beneath that fabric, what he'd been holding back from me.

But just as I was about to reach my goal, his hand caught mine, stopping me in my tracks. The sudden pause sent a jolt of surprise through me, and I let out a soft, involuntary hum of annoyance.

My gaze flicked up to meet his, and I gave him a pleading look, my lips parting as if to protest. He smirked, clearly enjoying the power shift. "Patience," he murmured, his voice a low, teasing whisper that made my skin prickle.

His thumb brushed over my wrist. "You don't get everything all at once, Zofia," he said, leaning in close enough for his breath to warm my cheek. "Some things are better earned."

I rolled my eyes, leaning in closer to blow softly against his ear. "Earn it? How?"

What else was I supposed to do? I'd already bared myself completely, letting him touch and explore as much as he wanted. What was his deal, huh?

But he didn't answer me. Instead, his lips found mine again in a sudden, heated kiss that left no room for argument. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him as if to remind me of his control.

A soft moan escaped into his mouth, unbidden but undeniable, as I melted into the kiss. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer, refusing to let go this time. His fingers found my nipples again and he rubbed them in slow circles, getting me to whimper in his arms. One of his hands slid down my tummy to reach between my legs. I smiled in pleasure feeling his finger playing with my clit. I really wanted to return the favor, but the bastard had other plans, keeping my hands at bay. Frustrated but unwilling to let the moment slip away, I decided to surrender--just this once. I leaned back, letting him take the lead, and focused on the way his skilled hands moved over me.