A short tale about about parcels?
Or maybe not.
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It was an evening like any other evening when I was away on business. After a pretty busy day seeing three or four clients, I'd booked into the hotel, one of my preferred ones, freshened up, had dinner and a few drinks and was back in my room.
It was then that I remembered that I hadn't picked up the parcel that had been left for me in reception.
Damn it!
Didn't know what was in it, but I guessed I had to go see even though it was late. So go see I did, but I never actually got there. I got to my door, opened it and even stepped out.
Then I stopped dead in my tracks, mouth gaping open, eyes goggling, hardly believing what was there before me.
She was bloody gorgeous.
She was slim and trim with a mess of red hair, and the most perfect pair of long slender legs that you could ever wish to see.
She had on a pair of sexy strippy-strappy high heels that may have bought her up to a full five foot seven or so.
She ...
Well that was it really.
Other than those high heels the girl was totally naked!
I'd heard of such things and even watched a few videos, but never really expected to witness such a sight in real life, any more than the girl by the look of near panic on her face had been expecting to be caught doing it. She'd snapped her hands up into the classic ENF pose, one arm across her breasts and the other tucked down between those shapely legs hiding her bare pussy from me.
Not however, I have to add happily, before I'd glimpsed the treasures that she was then hiding from me. Short indeed, but very, very sweet.
What does one say?
Is there an etiquette that covers that situation?
'Good evening miss. It's a pleasant evening out,' would hardly seem to suit the occasion, any more than 'Nice pair of tits miss," would. Would it?
For her part the girl, pretty as she was, wasn't making my job any easier. She never uttered a word to me, simply stood there, desperately covering her nudity as she blushed furiously, looking as if she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. I was glad however that it didn't!
"What's going on?" was all I could manage. Not exactly very original in the circumstances, but one hell of a good excuse to keep her there for me to look at.
"It's a dare," she whispered, hardly audibly, not using a lot of decibels, but not offering any more information.
"Who dared you?" I asked. Couldn't give a damn really, but more talking meant I could do more looking.
"Errr ... My husband," she croaked, looking past me hopefully, up the corridor that I was blocking. "He's a bit like that."
Now I consider myself a gentleman, and a gentleman would recognise the pretty young lady's plight and would move aside to let her pass. A gentleman would no doubt avert his eyes when doing so. A gentleman might have even stepped back into his room and closed the door.
Then again, relatively few true, blue blood gentleman had ever been in the position that I'd found myself in, and besides ... Well you know ... She was so bloody gorgeous. Damn it; when they wrote the rules, attractive young women probably didn't run around hotel corridors in the nude. I doubt if the sport was even thought about then.
No!
Gentleman or not, I was going to make the bloody most of it, and anyway her hand had slipped slightly, and a cheeky, little, pink, erect nipple was peeking out at me teasingly.
"Your husband dared you to do this," I asked, amazed that any man would let a creature like her out of his sight clothed, never mind naked.
"Well ... err ... He's a bit like that," she repeated, fortunately not noticing that the majority of her left breast had by then slipped out from its captivity. "I really think I ought to be getting back to him."
"Right!" I flustered, my gentlemanly side battling with my more basic emotions.
The gentlemanly side won.
I stepped to one side, reluctantly I have to say, but knowing that I'd feel the better for it.
Christ, if only I'd known quite how right I'd been.
"Thanks," the girl mumbled, sliding carefully passed me with an embarrassed smile, and then the unthinkable happened!
Unthinkable?
Well only in a world of complete fiction could the timing have been so perfect.
Ding - Ding -Ding it went. She gasped out in fear, and even I turned round in that direction.
It was the lift, the elevator, whatever you want to call it, and the ding-ding was announcing its arrival at our floor and just twenty feet or so up the corridor from where we were standing.
"Oh shit," cried the girl in anguish, realising with dread that her escape path was about to be invaded by whoever was about to emerge from the lift. Realising that she'd found herself in a somewhat unenvious position.
It was then perhaps that maybe my military training came to the fore. No, my six months in the sea scouts when I'd been fourteen hadn't been wasted, even though they had thrown me out because I couldn't swim.
"Run!" I shouted.
"Bugger that," she squealed, shoving me bodily out of the way and darting past me into the safety of my bedroom, without so much as asking my permission. I guess she was only twenty or thereabouts, and they simply don't have the manners that they used to.
