Deja's Surprise

Drifting in the half world between dreams and reality, felt soft lips brush my forehead, a hand on my shoulder and heard a voice.

"Come on sleepy head, rise and shine, Greg."

I concentrated on forcing myself back to reality and slowly opened my eyes.

"Good morning, Lisa," I mumbled. "Hope you slept well. It can't be time to get up; I only just went to sleep." I glanced at the towels wrapped around Lisa's head and body. "I see you've showered."

"Yep, I'm all fresh and clean." Lisa winked mischievously. "Been up ages, tried waking you but you were out for the count." She winked again. "Remember my name after my blitzkrieg of cross and self examination and whirlwind whorishness last night then; haven't come to thinking it was dream or nightmare." She glanced over to the window. "Beautiful day, it's very warm already. All starts an hour earlier here, shops open and all that, so breakfast or we'll be fed overcooked leftovers or told our orders are off the menu. I thought stuff ourselves then we'll last until dinner, we'll only want a very light lunch."

I forced a leg over the side of the bed, clambered out of it lethargically and stood up, hard-on to the forefront. "Course I remember your name," I mumbled and shook sleep from my head. "I dreamt about you."

Lisa giggled. "Dream cause the iron rod, is it just pleased to see me or is it a men's wake-up stiffy?"

"First two," I grunted, ambled to the bathroom, clambered into the shower and warm water cascading down my body finally brought me fully back into the real world. En suite activities complete, I wrapped a towel round my waist and headed for the bedroom. Lisa had neatly piled my clothes on a chair and the penny dropped – clean ones were in my room. "Have to put on my shirt and trousers to get clean clothes from my room, Lisa." I took the key from her bedside cabinet. "Got the key, I'll let myself back in."

"Whatever," drifted disinterestedly across the room.

When I turned, I saw Lisa's interest was fixed on her clothes. Standing back to me staring at neatly hung clothes in her wardrobe, she reached up to swish something this way or that occasionally and nudity proved her indecision included underwear. A shudder, thrill, swept through my body; delight she was so at ease naked and in seeing her body. My eyes left her glossy jet-black hair and wandered down pale gold tapering to her waist, arching outward at her hips and tapering inward in long gilded columns resting on heeled pedestals. I walked over, felt her jump of surprise as I kissed her neck softly. I reached round and ran my hands gently over her firm breasts and flat stomach to her thighs. On their return journey, a fleeting brush of her crotch with my right hand before symmetry with my left on her hip as I crouched and kissed her bum cheeks. I stood, let go and went back to the bed to dress for my clean clothes foray.

Back to Lisa and buttoning my shirt, I was suddenly aware she was behind me and turned to face her.

A frown furrowed Lisa's brow and a lone eyebrow arched upward quizzically. "Why did you do that, Greg, the kisses and touches?"

Her question bewildered me and I sighed. "Disinterest in your 'Whatever,' I turned, saw you were lost in deciding what to wear, looked at your gorgeous body and couldn't resist a silent message expressing appreciation of you and your beauty. It was meant to be caring, loving, not sexual, you said 'No barriers' last night and I thought it'd be okay but your face says it wasn't. Certainly wasn't meant to upset you, sorry if it did."

Lisa's brow furrowed deeper. "Hasn't the way you think. All as you said but you omitted the possessory aspect. What you did is what a guy would do in an established relationship or marriage, we're not in either and I didn't expect it."

"Oh," I gasped. Anger rose and I battled to restrain it in my tone. "Prattle on last night that you were cramming it in perchance I dump you, implying you want to possess me and be possessed. I had the irresistible urge to deliver my message and sure as hell wouldn't if I felt it was a one-night stand but you interpret it as my being a possessive control freak. It's my worry; seems I misinterpreted you last night, you meant you want to possess me but not be possessed."

Stung by my anger, Lisa recoiled but managed a smirk and tease, "Ooh, temper tantrum," before her frown reappeared. "You got to know my bod last night but not me. 'Mach One,' your words in Deja's when I rattled off my info and proposed a room share and I carried on at that speed in my cross and self examination and the sex here. I'm a Virgo, don't believe in astrology but it says traits include analytical, critical and exact, I possess them, they're why I became a lawyer and I told you my nickname is 'BVBW.' Believe I've only had sex with my ex and that my room share proposal was totally out of character or not, options were as I said, date or room share, had the hots for you, so Virgo and BVBW traits cut the bullshit and get straight to the nitty-gritty."

Lisa glanced at me and her brow furrowed deeper. "Said you felt I'd surrendered to you last night, I had willingly but Virgo and BVBW traits lurked under the surface assessing if I wanted more of you, the person, to which the answer was and is a definite 'Yes.' It makes me sound a cold calculating bitch but our brains work in the same way. You're reticent, not shy, just hold back, and you're not impulsive. You may not be a Virgo or BVBW but are a cop, suss people, cut the bullshit and didn't switch off in last night's sex; part of your brain assessing if you wanted more of me, the person. Impulsive in that you're quick to anger but probably my fault, bad pre-tantrum phraseology. I felt caring, love, not a grope or sexual act and wanted to know why you did it, which you explained." She smiled, leant forward and planted a peck on my lips. "Thanks for having the urge and for what I felt."

"Yes," I mumbled and looked into Lisa's eyes, dark, deep pools searching mine. "Okay, let's tell Reception before or after breakfast we're vacating a room, try to get a refund and get on with the day and our holiday as a couple. Our brains won't switch off whatever we do but a proper room share, only one room, will give the message we each want to possess and be possessed. Guess you hired a car same as me, next port of call, return one and get a refund. Is direct, feisty, gorgeous Virgo lawyer Lisa Adams, the BVBW, up for it or will she pussyfoot, is she chicken?"

"Don't pussyfoot, not chicken and you know it," Lisa growled. "Up for it but let me, the BVBW, sort the refunds."

"Fine by me," I confirmed and laughed. "I'll see the BVBW in action."

Lisa marched to the wardrobe and came back carrying two pairs of jeans and two white tops. "I'll dress, come to your room, check it out and make the bed look slept in while you dress. Opted for these, no idea what we'll do today, so which set?"

"I can't see any difference."

Lisa giggled. "You will." She put on one set, did some static poses and a brief catwalk strut. "These are loose-fitting." She glanced down. "Not loose enough to hide erect nipples, your fault, permanently turned on when you're around." She stripped and wrestled into the other pair of jeans.

"Hell you're gorgeous and sexy as hell," I gasped. "Tight blue jeans almost painted on, firm, proud, gold boobs, erect nipples, a heavenly vision, Venus. Unite the jeans' legs and add a fishtail, most beautiful mermaid ever."

Lisa flashed a smile. "Thanks. Obvious which jeans you prefer." She put on the top, did a hand on hip pose, took it off and put on the loose one. "Tight one on to go out, this one for a look down my cleavage if it's a man at Reception and I think it'll aid BVBW negotiations." She marched over to a drawer, returned carrying a thong and bra, unzipped her skin-tight jeans and wrestled them down over her hips and thighs. "Advantage of thongs tying in hip bows is they can be put on or taken off with my jeans still mostly on." She winked impishly. "It's one for you too."

I laughed. "I thought yesterday's thong was tiny, that's a gusset and shoelaces, thin ribbons."

Lisa shrugged her shoulders. "Covers all it needs to, no pubes to hide in a lacy triangle." She grabbed the bra, put it on and reached behind her back to tie the bows.

I laughed. "Breaches the Trade Description Act, a bra is support for breasts, no support, just transparent gauze nipple covers. It and the matching but devoid of gauze thong don't smack of high street retail, where did you buy them?"

Lisa looked at me dismissively. "Not in a sex shop as you think. Happy BVBW client cash reward spending spree, found a women's undies shop off the King's Road with a penchant for risqué and selling it at outrageous prices; you're looking at a hundred pounds' worth." She giggled. "Got my money's worth, hard-on was wood, a tree gently swaying in the breeze in time with breathing and pulse when I was naked, unyielding iron rod oozing pre-cum instant you saw me in my undies. Have to wait for one set or both of Lisa's lips to relieve it." She put on the loose top, tugged her jeans over her hips and zipped them up. "Come on, clothes on, your room, I'll make your bed look slept in while you don clean clothes, breakfast and sort a room refund."

I noticed Lisa's glance at the room tariff board on our way into breakfast and saw the wheels start churning, rapid mental arithmetic, convert rand to pounds and compare the tariff with what she paid in the UK. She launched into Mach One lawyer grilling as soon as we sat at our table. Not a package holiday per se but did I buy a package deal, ask the travel agent to sort flight and hotel or them and car? Did I know the breakdown, what each cost? When she paused for breath, I confirmed my travel agent sorted it all, I upgraded the hotel and that except for its extra cost, I had no idea of the breakdown. She said she had asked for one, checked the best deals on the Internet and found a cheaper flight but only more expensive hotel and car costs.

That grilling complete, Lisa opened fire, Kalashnikov at full burst, about our day ahead. What would we do after the long drive to the airport to return a car? Suggestions were explore the nearby town, check if there were any wildlife parks near it, if so, pay a visit, or a leisurely drive back along the coast road and stop off at a beach to swim, sunbathe, relax and chat. My saying decide when we had sorted the cars satisfied her and, finger off the gun's trigger, she calmed into idle chat.

Breakfast over, Lisa greeted the Receptionist with a broad smile, the name on her tag and a cheerful, "Good morning, Thandiwe, a pretty name for a pretty young lady and I'm sorry if I haven't pronounced it correctly." Without waiting for a response, the Kalashnikov opened fire. She told Thandiwe our names and room numbers and rattled off a yarn that we lived together in London for three years, broke up last year and had not seen each other since until we bumped into each other in Deja's last night. No break in the machine gun fire, her next burst was that we had chatted, mooted getting back together and agreed on return to the hotel to go to our rooms, decide about getting back together overnight and meet for breakfast for decisions about becoming friends who would meet regularly back in the UK or lovers again here and there. Final burst of gunfire was that we unanimously chose lovers, would vacate a room, wanted a refund for the other, I arrived the day before yesterday, so two nights, she arrived yesterday, so one night, my room had a sea view and we wanted to keep it. She finally paused for breath, smiled and said, "So, a twenty night refund on my room, please, Thandiwe."

Finally able to get a word in edgewise, Thandiwe recoiled from the onslaught, stifled a sigh and mustered a smile. "Good morning," she began. "I've never thought of Deja's as playing Cupid but it did last night; your meeting and making up so far from home." She paused, called up our room details on the computer, offered to refund Lisa ten nights and said it could mean a loss for the hotel; no guarantee it would resell her room.

Lisa laughed. "Nice try but you'll have to try much harder, Thandiwe." Amusement left her voice. "Town heaving, hotel full, turning prospective guests away, it'll resell the room before nightfall at board tariff, a hefty hike on the Internet price, much heftier one on what I paid, and make twenty nights at board rate plus ten at what I paid. I'm fair, won't rip you off and I won't be ripped off. Eighteen nights at the rate I paid or no deal, we keep both rooms, the hotel has a vacant one it could but can't resell and loses money. We paid up front, wrote off the cash, didn't expect to want a refund for any reason and certainly not that it'd be meeting and making up. We're just glad to be together again, not bothered about a refund and are trying to do you a favour; give you a room to resell at a huge profit. Eighteen night refund on my room and its resale profit or no room and no profit, you choose, final offer, take it or leave it, simple as."

Stung by bullets from unfriendly Kalashnikov fire, Thandiwe's eyes narrowed. She looked at Lisa and sensed she was not bluffing. Assessment of Lisa and her offer's merits complete, Thandiwe said she would ring the Manager and ask him to come to Reception. He arrived and huddled in the corner with Thandiwe for a tête-à-tête.

Secret session complete, the Manager, Barry, an Afrikaans, introduced himself to Lisa. "Lekker," he began. "Oh, Afrikaans, means 'Good' and I meant it's good you met and made up thousands of miles from home." He confirmed Thandiwe had explained matters.

"You overlooked critical factors in what you said to Thandiwe, Miss Adams," Barry continued. "First, overseas tourists book all accommodation in advance or one or two nights and then book ahead from the hotel they're at if they're touring; they don't arrive here on spec. Second, you may have noticed some very large houses and will see hundreds on the hilltops if you drive up the hill at the far end of the town beach. Cheapest cost five million rand, sky's the limit above that, very few locally owned, vast majority are holiday homes owned by our wealthy cousins from Gauteng, Jo'burg and Tshwane, new name for Pretoria, used a month or so a year at best and are being now, hence crowded town. Check the vehicle plates in town, as many 'GP,' Gauteng, as 'EC,' Eastern Cape, local, and all the pricey vehicles will be 'GP' guaranteed. Third, 'Vaalie' in Afrikaans are inlanders who drive to the coast, thousand kilometres plus if it's from Gauteng, don't book, can't find vacancies and have to find an inland hotel, break the budget by trying at five-star ones like this, prospective guests we've had to turn away, sleep in their vehicle or give up and go home. Vaalie influx is Friday to Monday, that's today, slim chance I'll resell your room, may when the next batch of vaalie leap in their cars or bakkies, um, pick-up trucks, on Friday, best I can do is risk I will and refund fifteen nights on your room at the rate you paid, Miss Adams."

"Can't argue with your points," Lisa conceded. "I'd noticed 'EC' and 'GP' plates and latter on pricey stuff. Nearest equivalent to 'Vaalie' in English is 'Grockle,' just means a holidaymaker." She stepped back from the desk, jiggled a skin-tight jeans clad leg and did a brief hand on hip pose. "Pull the other one, Barry," she breathed huskily, put her arms on the Reception desk and leant forward, hands clasped in an arrow formation pointing at him. "Do I look as if I was born yesterday?" she asked, fully aware her question invited his making eye contact and having a clear peripheral view of her cleavage and bra.

"Ag man, cut the kak," Lisa continued. "Afrikaans for 'Oh man, cut the crap' I believe, Barry. You admit turning away vaalie, grockles, by 'Slim' chance meant 'First rate' and know reselling my room to a vaalie on Friday is a racing certainty. It or a phone sale will be at board tariff, a huge mark up on what I paid, an Internet sale is still a hefty mark up and you and I know you'll be quids in, English for pounds, means you'll make a guaranteed hefty profit. Greg and I paid up front, wrote off the money, didn't expect to want a refund and I told Jack we're not bothered about one and are trying to do the hotel a favour by vacating a room it'll promptly resell at a huge profit. I told Thandiwe I'm fair, won't rip off the hotel and won't be ripped off, so eighteen-night refund and we'll vacate Greg's more saleable sea view room or my fairness becomes bitchiness. We'll keep both rooms, occupy mine and your blood pressure will go sky high every time you turn a vaalie away knowing you have a vacant, saleable sea view room you could sell at a huge profit. Take it or leave it and we both know you'd be crazy to do the latter."

"Direct, determined, don't mince words, Miss Adams," Barry remarked, half-complimentary, half wishing he did not have to deal with her and wholly enjoying the cleavage show. "Yes, 'Ag' and 'Kak' are 'Oh' and 'Crap' in English. You've done some Afrikaans homework and a lot more in economics, true I'll be quids in if I resell a room and a sea view is more saleable." He looked at Lisa and then me pensively, frowned and fiddled with the computer.

"Final offers as follows," Barry continued. "First, a sixteen-night refund at the rate Mr Harrison paid and you vacate his room. Second, vacate both and move into our island in the sky, true penthouse above the top floor suites we call penthouses." He paused, frowned thoughtfully, muttered, "Rand, pounds," and sighed. "Twenty nights on the suite and your room, nineteen on Mr Harrison's, I'll um, make a nineteen night refund on Mr Harrison's room, straight swap on cost of your room for the island, meet the fair Miss Adams half way in the hope it'll avoid my meeting her alter ego."

"Can't say until Greg and I know what the island is," Lisa said.

"I was about to tell you," Barry grunted impatiently. His voice softened. "Befitting rekindling your relationship, our honeymoon suite, was in general use, only used for its purpose now. Two reasons, keeps it pristine and the lift stops at the penthouses, need the key to go up, stop-start rattled established couples, newlyweds enjoy unlocking access to a private world."

"Think of it as a bungalow on the roof surrounded by a garden and terrace," Barry continued. "Garden is a small lawn, real grass, surrounded by flowerbeds and shrubs and trees in pots. More potted greenery around the terrace, which has lights, heaters for cool evenings, a Jacuzzi, heated eight-metre swimming pool, sunloungers, table with an integral sunshade and chairs for al fresco meals. Sitting room has a white leather sofa, chaise longue and armchairs, coffee table and so on, normal domestic furnishings and décor with a romantic emphasis. Dining room has a circular glass table, four chairs and unit housing china, cutlery, wine, spirits, champagne, fridge; everything for eating and drinking. Bedroom much bigger than your rooms, faces east so sunrises stream in, very large circular bed with tulle drapes above the headboard that can be closed, surround the bed with a diaphanous curtain, and a spa bath and wet room in the en suite. Bathroom has a massive circular sunken spa bath, bigger wet room than the en suite and hundreds of candles dotted around. All rooms have dimmer switches and separate concealed soft lighting, all except bathroom have French windows to the terrace, décor, furnishings and overall effect are relaxing and romantic, subtle not garish. Suite vacant throughout your stay, you get it for the cost of your room, huge loss for me on what it'd cost but profit on its vacancy and I make a profit on your rooms if I resell them. You're welcome to view the suite before you decide, Jack will take you up."