It was getting late and I was tiring of my colleagues. The Manhattan bar was stuffy and I could tell the guys I worked with wanted nothing more than to ditch me and head out to a more "exciting" bar. I had no problem with that – I was tired from the long meetings that day and anxious to get back to my hotel room. I told them I would settle the tab since I was senior manager and off they went.
Being married with a demanding three year old son at home, I had little chance to get away. The thoughts of relaxing in a hotel room alone seemed the height of luxury and I wanted to take advantage of that before I got too sleepy to appreciate it. My overnight bag contained a trashy novel and my favorite vibrator.
It was a short walk from the bar to the hotel so I didn't mind being alone. It wasn't late and the air was warm and humid as I stepped out of the air conditioned bar. We were staying in mid-town and the lights of Times Square overwhelmed me as I pushed through crowds of tourists. I made my home in rural Connecticut and the hustle and bustle of New York City was a bit much for me.
As I neared the entrance of my hotel I found myself blocked by a group of girls. They were college-age, maybe nineteen or early twenties. Something was obviously wrong as they were yelling at one particular girl. Most people ignored them but as I had to somehow navigate around the crowd, I couldn't help but become intrigued in the little drama.
There were four angry girls upset at one of their crowd. She was a slim girl with long, dark hair. She looked Asian but perhaps mixed with something else. I could tell she was clearly scared and I wondered if I should intervene. Before I could say anything, one of the girls hit the Asian girl and pushed her to the ground. She let out a cry and fell.
"Hey, leave her alone!" I yelled.
"Fuck off," one of them said. That pissed me off.
"Don't tell me to fuck off, you little tramp. Get out of my way!"
I pushed by the girls, ignoring their looks of shock and stooped next to the one they pushed.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
"I scraped my knee," she said, trying to hold back tears.
"Let me help you up."
I got her to her feet and looked at the knee. It was scraped pretty bad. She was wearing a short skirt so there was nothing to protect the skin. Being a mother, I had plenty experience with scraped knees. It would sting but wouldn't be too bad.
"Don't bother with her, she's a slut!" another one of them yelled.
"Why don't you all just run along," I said in a low voice.
I realized they all basically looked the same – tall, slim, long hair. They all wore the same clothes too – short skirts, tank tops and flip-flops. Typical, I thought.
"She's not coming with us," said one of the girls. "Fucking slut!"
Again they tried to hit the girl, but I got in the way.
"I said, run along." And I meant it. I was tired and annoyed by the whole incident. They were ruining my evening.
After some more name calling, the doorman came over and threatened to call the police if they didn't disperse. This did the trick and they finally left, but not without some parting shots. We helped the injured girl inside.
"Do you have a first aid kit?" I asked the doorman as we eased the girl down on a couch in the lobby.
"Yeah, hold on," he said.
When he returned with the kit, I opened it and found just what I needed. I applied some antiseptic cream and she winced.
"That's exactly what my son does," I said smiling. "It'll feel better in a moment." I pressed a bandage to the scrape and sat next to her.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Emily."
"My name is Jennifer...or Jen if you like."
"Thanks Jen," she said and smiled at me.
"Can you get home now?" I asked.
Emily looked down at the ground. "Well...I'm supposed to be staying with those girls tonight. My home is in Boston."
"Oh," I said and glanced at my watch. Too late for any trains going to Boston. "I'm sure they've gotten over it by now. Can I get you a cab?"
A soft sob escaped Emily. Shit, I thought, not that.
"What's wrong?"
"Dany is mad at me because I stole her boyfriend."
I rolled my eyes. "Did you?"
"Not exactly..."
I didn't want to know. Girls at this age were overly dramatic. Now I just wanted to sit in the hotel bar and have a drink but I didn't want to abandon her.
"Look, I need a drink. Are you old enough?"
"No, but I have a fake ID," she said through the sniffles.
"Oh...well, I guess that's ok. Come on, let's go inside."
We walked into the hotel bar and took a seat at a table with a nice view of Broadway. No one questioned Emily's age and soon we were both sipping martinis.
"So, um, do you go to school down here?" I asked trying to think of what I would say to a nineteen year old.
"I go to Yale up in New Haven," she said.
"Oh...nice."
I looked at her more closely. She was definitely part Asian but her eyes had more of a Caucasian look. She was cute with her dark hair, perky breasts and long legs. It made me wish I was ten years younger.
We drank our martinis and got to know each other. Apparently the incident with the stolen boyfriend was really the guy's fault (it always is). As she grew more comfortable, she smiled more and said "like" a lot.
After the second martini she excused herself to use the bathroom. As I watched her walk away I noticed those long legs again and was suddenly presented with an image I had buried in my mind years ago. When my husband Jeff and I were still in college – we weren't married at the time – he convinced me to have a threesome with another woman. As it turned out, she was a slim Asian girl, not unlike Emily. It was probably one of the most erotic nights of my life. Over the years of marriage, work and raising a child, I had forgotten it. But seeing Emily stirred up the feelings I had suppressed.
I took a large gulp of my drink and set it down just as she returned to our table. I needed to figure out how to get rid of her.
"So you think this little disagreement with your friends has blown over by now?" I said, feeling the affects of the alcohol.
She shrugged. "Maybe, but they're probably on their way back to Dany's mother's house."
"Where is that?"
"New Jersey."
"Oh." That was a bit far for a cab.
I thought about the suite I got because they screwed up my reservation. It had two bedrooms. I looked at Emily.
"You could stay with me," I said suddenly. "I've got a suite."
"Really?" she said, eyes lighting up.
"Yeah, why not? You can take the train home to Boston tomorrow."
"Thank you, Jen. That would be awesome."
I shrugged. "Whatever."
We both laughed.
An hour later I was getting sleepy and I didn't want to get drunk so I suggested we go up to the room. As I wobbled over to the elevator I couldn't help notice Emily's firm little ass and those long legs. I tried not to stare but it was hard. If Emily noticed at all, she didn't let on.
Once the doors closed on the elevator I turned to her. She looked at me and smiled an odd little smile as if she knew what I was thinking. Throwing caution to the wind, I took one step towards her and kissed her. She immediately opened herself up to me. There was no resistance. Our mouths opened and her tongue snaked out to touch mine. I broke the kiss and pulled away.
The elevator stopped and we got out.
"I'm not a lesbian," I said lamely. "I'm married..."
"I know, you told me," she said, still smiling that odd smile.
"Are you?"
"No."
"But you've been with other women?"
"Yes."
The silence closed over us and we walked to my room. I opened the door and we went in.
"Nice room!" she exclaimed.
It was indeed and I was glad for the second bedroom. I needed to go to sleep and sober up.
"You can have that bedroom over there," I said, pointing. "It even has its own TV."
I watched Emily check it out and was glad for the door that would separate us both that night. She thanked me again, used the bathroom and then settled into her room. The door shut and I heard the TV go on. I sighed with relief and sat at the desk where my laptop waited. Even though it was late and I was tired, tipsy and a bit horny, I needed to check email. At least it would take my mind off the thoughts that were running through my brain.
I sat there for an hour and immersed my mind in work. I hadn't bothered to undress yet and I began to feel uncomfortable in my skirt and blouse. Eventually I shut off the laptop and stared out the window for a while.
"Jen?" said a soft voice.
I snapped out of it and turned around. Emily stood there in her tank top. I could tell she had taken off her bra as her breasts had a pointy look to them. My mouth went dry.
"What is it Emily?" I asked, fighting for composure.
"Are you ok?"
"Oh, sure...was just finishing up some work."
"Ok, I'm just going to use the bathroom again," she said.
And when she turned around, her top rode up and I saw that she was wearing a thong. Her firm ass was displayed to me for a few seconds before the bathroom door closed. Sweet Jesus, I muttered. I gulped some water from the bottle on the desk and stood there and waited for her to come out.