I laughed as I came to my senses early the next morning. The sheets were in a wad around my upper half, my naked butt poking out from the tangle of sheets. My pillow was wet with drool. I must've slept well! In the bathroom, I saw in the mirror that my skin was etched with the impression of the knotted bed clothes, and my hair was a mess.
I wanted some exercise before I did anything else. I reached for my new workout clothes, but remembered the pact that I'd made: First time changing into anything new had to be done somewhere "unprivate," leaving my previous outfit right there wherever I changed. I didn't want to give up my summer dress yet, so I wrapped myself in a bath towel, picked up my workout clothes, and cracked open the door to my room. I could hear people stirring in the room above me, so even though it was Sunday morning, I'd have to be careful. As I peeked out, I heard someone coming, so I quickly let the door close. The sound of footsteps and a rolling suitcase passed by.
I thought of chickening out, of making an exception. After all, I really wasn't completely awake yet! But the thought of not going through with it disappointed me. Deep within, a voice said, "No, Lisa, you must."
"I must," I parroted in a whisper. "I must." And then the feelings from the day before came over me, and I knew that I would obey the voice. It was as if i had no choice. Taking a deep breath, I peeked out of the door again, and, hearing nothing, opened it, flipping the door lock to keep the door from closing behind me. I scampered as quickly and quietly as I could down the hall toward the small recessed area for the vending machines.
Once there, I dropped the towel from me. My naked body was reflected in the glass of the junk food machine. I could see clearly my dark nipples and pubic hair. I struggled getting the bra on over my head – fortunately with my hair the way it w, I didn't have to worry about it. Then I wiggled into the shorts. On the way back to my room, I heard voices behind me as a door clanged open. I ducked back into my room.
Giggling quietly, I was immensely glad at what I'd done. My breathing was shallow. Their was a deep craving and resolve to continue my pact to the end of my vacation. It shocked me, really, because in the moments before I drifted off to sleep only seven or eight hours ago, I'd considered whether I'd gotten my fill of the reverie and freedom, as I'd come to call it. Clearly, I had not gotten my fill. With the voice came an important epiphany: This was a compulsion, something I had to do. Leaning on the inside of my hotel room door, I realized that I enjoyed the risk for an important reason – that I didn't want to be in control, and the risks I was taking had to do with wanting to feel base, degraded and dirty. I would obey the Voice in my head no matter what, I decided. I must trust it.
I went into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My new microfiber sports bra did little to hide anything. My nipples poked out through the thin, unlined turquoise material, and the dark areola of each breast shown through faintly, but clearly enough. The shorts were low-rise, so a lot of skin was on display between my breasts and hips. In the bright light, I could see the shadow of my public hair contrasting with my pale skin through my shorts. Both bra and shorts were skin tight, leaving no doubt as to the contours of my body. Turning, I saw how the shorts showed off the roundness of my ass.
"God, Lisa," I said, staring in disbelief.
Gazing at myself, I brushed my hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. About to turn for the door, I heard the Voice say, "Roll down your waistband." I looked again into the mirror and complied, turning it down an inch or so, baring the points of my hips.
My trip down to the workout room and the workout itself were uneventful. Few people were up and about yet, it being Sunday morning. No one came in the room while i worked out. i ran on the treadmill for a half hour, working up a shiny sweat that made my nipples more visible. On the way to the breakfast room afterwards, I did pass a man in the hallway, who seemed to dwell on me during our short encounter. I blushed and couldn't bear to look at him.
The breakfast room was surprisingly crowded, however. I almost decided not to go in, and wouldn't have if I were not so hungry. I felt eyes from all directions while I hastily acquired a bagel, a packet of cream cheese, and an orange juice. My sweaty face turned hotter. I left with the food in my hands and hurried back to my room. Inside, I sat at the little table and ate, sweat pouring off of me, reliving those moments of embarrassment. I couldn't understand why I felt aroused, and fought the urge to strip and rub myself to an orgasm.
Finished eating, I brushed my teeth. I was about to hop in the shower, but the Voice said, simply, "No, pack your things and go on your way." I obeyed.
Four hours later, I parked at a fast food restaurant and found a cabin in the mountains online while I ate a salad in the car. I made reservations for three nights. It was another four hours' drive. Heading out of town, I spotted a mall, and changed into my summer dress (since I'd already worn it, I could change in private now), finally peeling off my workout clothes. In the mall, I found a pair of nylon shorts with deep pockets, a loose fitting white cropped tank top that would be comfy in the heat, a small, floral backpack and some plastic water bottles for the hiking I was planning to do.
Nearing the mountains, I decided it was time to change into my new clothes – the Voice had told me not to use the air conditioning in the car, so I was sticky and craving the feel of fresh clothes. Passing through a small town, I spotted a narrow walkway between two frame storefronts on Main Street. I found a parking place and, carrying the bag containing my new outfit, I did a little window shopping. The stores had just closed for the day. Gradually, the street became empty, and I went to investigate the walkway.
I peeked into the shadows, then looked around. No one was coming, at least along Main Street. I walked the length of the walkway; it was only a few feet wide. Reaching the other end, I saw a near empty parking lot. This was perfect.
I walked to the middle of the walkway and was about to remove my dress. But I had an idea that I knew came from the Voice. I continued to the Main Street end of the walkway and set down the bag containing my new clothes. Then I turned and made my way to the other end. There, I stopped, my heart pounding. I reached back and unzipped the dress, and pulled it off, dropping it to the concrete. Now wearing nothing but my sandals, I walked slowly toward my new outfit. Two-thirds of the way there, a couple walked past the entrance to the passageway. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt so terribly vulnerable. Reaching my clothes, I put the top on first, and as I stepped into my shorts, a man walked quickly by, unaware that a few feet from him in the shadows was a half-naked, sweaty but attractive woman.
My heart pounded in my chest for the next hour as I completed my long trip. I picked up the key to my cabin and some groceries at a general store, acutely aware that it was pretty obvious that I wasn't wearing a bra, not to mention the fact that I was beginning to smell like a person who hadn't showered.
It was beginning to get dark ten minutes later when I drove up the gravel track to my cabin. It was a cozy little thing, a one-bedroom shanty with a porch nestled in the woods in a ravine. I could hear voices a hundred yards off or so, which I presumed to be my nearest neighbors.
It was much more humid in the woods, so the heat felt almost oppressive. Already, my new clothes were most with perspiration. On the front porch, I took everything off and hung my top and shorts on a nail to air out. My body was shiny, my hair flat and dull. I hadn't shaved my legs since Friday morning, so they were beginning to feel prickly.
But for some reason, it felt good.
I fixed a banana sandwich in the dim light of the kitchen, and sat in the rocker on the front porch as the day faded into night. I spread my legs obscenely over the arm rests and tweaked my nipples as I ate. As I chewed my last bite, I slipped a finger into my sweaty, smelly pubic hair, between the folds of my pussy, and found my hungry clitoris, moaning as I hit the bull's eye. I came four times, my ecstatic cries resounding in the darkness. I smelled and tasted my fingers ravenously, the mixture of pungent, salty sweat and erotic juices filling my senses. I was in heaven.
