Chapter 1: Room 214 (Taking the Plunge and Finding Friends)
I stood in front of the hotel, more than a little intimidated. Across the way, I saw my husband walking toward me; his face a mask of containment. We stood outside and looked at the empty parking lot.
We had walked through this place at least two dozen times, wondering how, if, when.
It started, I guess, years ago, in our swinger's fantasies with writing stories and dreaming of what it would be like to swing. We made up all kinds of stories for each other about what it might be like to visit a hotel for swingers. So when in our forties both of us found ourselves out of work, him with a large bonus and me with my unemployment, and a smaller fee, with pensions and some savings, we bought what was a steal, a motor lodge, near an interstate, in an upstate central US state. I am half afraid to write the name of the state...would we fail?
In the beginning we decided to open the hotel ourselves and keep one wing unused, and to do all the maid work, maintenance and desk work together. We are both fairly handy and had for years worked for someone else. We were thrilled and scared to do this on our own. In the first week, we redid one wing, created a breakfast room and closed the pool. By the second month more and more people pulled off the interstate, checked in, ate breakfast and checked out. We now had enough business to pull in some money and find out what it was like to run a motel.
By the end of the third month, we had one full wing, both floors finished with the rooms taking on a nice coziness. Everyone feels comfortable talking to my husband and me and people seemed to like a growing 'petticoat junction' mom and pop atmosphere. With nice flowers, plants and the constant running of the vacuum cleaner, we were making a small number of people happy. But not in the way we planned.
From time to time we would walk through the upstairs wing on the other side and make plans for our fantasy hotel secret wing. We thought, 'one room at a time'. We decided to install windows from the room to the hallway, with curtains inside and out. This required a carpenter. When we found one we liked he was a bit quizzical when we explained what we wanted.
"Most folks" he informed us, "do not want a view to the hall."
We nodded and said, "We thought it would bring in light."
I was just beginning to regret having called in a carpenter, and thinking this wasn't going to happen, when I saw the twinkle in his eyes. The next day he brought his wife in to help. They were both in their 40s and nice looking. Our carpenter, because of the nature of his work, was lean and muscled, and she was small, curvy in all the right places, and sensual. Her top was spaghetti strapped and it was clear that she wore no bra, the outline of her nipples was clear. And hot. She had short shorts and was quick to find excuses to bend over in front of my husband. She had very cute legs and ass, and I could tell he thought so too, as he kept close by. I looked at him and smiled and he smiled back and touched the front of his pants zipper. That was our language for 'the game is on.'
If my husband thought it was important to spend some time helping with the carpenter couple, I didn't blame him. She was flirting with him, and her husband didn't seem to mind. It got me wondering, so I decided to take the plunge and pulled off my blouse, to my black stretch undershirt,
As I slipped it over my head, I said "Boy it gets you warm to do this."
I was not braless, but I am fairly well endowed, so there was plenty of cleavage and perhaps a little nipple show. The carpenter looked at my husband who kind of smiled at him and returned to his work nonchalantly. At this point we were flirting with each other but no one had taken the bait. While we were working our carpenter introduced himself as Max and his wife as Leslie.
We laughed and chatted about kids, past jobs, and then Leslie said, "You know some people use these windows to kind of share personal experiences, like exhibitionism or voyeurism."
