Part one
Nancy wasn't saying much and George knew why. She was completely unhinged at Bess's behaviour with the lecherous bellhop, but felt uncomfortable about bringing it up with George, and the reason for this was quite simple: While she was at no fault in the matter, being Bess's cousin practically brought some responsibility for Bess's indiscretion home to roost on George's front step. George could certainly sympathize with Nancy where her shock at Bess's behaviour was concerned, could even understand the discomfort she was feeling with her on account of it but, for George, the situation was yet more complicated.
George was a self-confirmed, one hundred percent, card carrying lesbian. While still in the closet, however, this was something she'd known about herself for quite some time, around about the same time, in fact, that she'd realized she'd fallen deeply in love with Nancy. Of course, Nancy had no idea of these facts and only had eyes for 'Mr. Perfect', Ned Nickerson, (who George suspected was a little
too
perfect to be real) and had absolutely, positively no interest in her own gender, including the most loyal friend in her life, that being George Fayne. Yet, George held out hope that someday something would change, that Nancy would lose interest in her overgrown boy scout, would come to her senses and see in her friend, George, the loving adoration and loyalty that she could never have in Ned, who was half the time more involved in his own concerns than he was with Nancy anyway.
For this reason also, George was quite put out with her cousin's behaviour and the resulting rift of discomfort it had created between she and Nancy, but even that wasn't all there was to the current situation.
While both she and Nancy had been teasing Bess for some time about her weight, the way her younger, pretty blonde cousin had been dressing lately had been turning the eyes of a lot of boys and, as much as she hated to admit it, those of George's as well. Bess had proved that there was obviously nothing to be ashamed of in being a little pudgy and, though Bess's display in front of the bellhop was completely inappropriate and had created the current discomfort between her and Nancy, George found herself having trouble getting her cousin's incredible breasts and nipples out of her mind. It wasn't that she was suddenly feeling anything for Bess, but more a base sexual reaction towards her voluptuous cousin, and that made her feel like she was cheating on her very real and meaningful feelings for Nancy.
Finally, and perhaps worst of all, George couldn't help but notice how Nancy herself couldn't take her eyes from Bess's chest. While George was still sure (at least reasonably so) that Nancy had absolutely no interest in girls, she couldn't help but feel some jealousy towards her cousin anyway, couldn't help but wonder if she could get Nancy's attention if she had a body like Bess's.
All in all, Bess had created a mess and George wasn't even quite sure of how she should feel about it, let alone what she should actually do about it.
Stopping at Suite 510, Susan Quinn's suite, Nancy barely glanced at George with an expression that spoke of personal hesitation. It wasn't about knocking on the door, which she did, but rather hesitation around George. The awkward space between them was almost intolerable while they waited. Finally, when it was clear that nobody was in, at least not anyone willing to answer the door, Nancy took another glance at George, then up and down the corridor before trying the knob to find it locked.
"Now what?" George asked.
"I think we should go down to the main level and look around," Nancy replied, forcing a light, airy tone. Maybe we can find someone, perhaps another guest who remembers Susan and has some information we could use."
"Good thinking, Nancy," George agreed, her positivity just as forced.
From behind the reception desk, Mr. Carmody smiled politely at them as they passed through the lobby on their way to the sitting parlour. Just as politely, they smiled back before passing through the open French doors, looking around themselves at the richly appointed reading area, also done in mahogany and copper. Quite remarkable to Nancy was the fireplace. The opening was at least five feet high, its width approximately the same with a heavy mantle of mahogany with ornate, inlaid copper trim and polished, inset crystals. There was presently no fire, however its very presence somehow warmed the room with the thought of what kind of fire such a maw could support.
Still seated in the overstuffed, wingback chair, the man they'd seen earlier placed a bookmark between the pages of his hard covered tome, closing it and putting it aside as he smiled at the two girls, his eyes glancing appreciatively up and down their bodies as his verbal greeting came in a more gentlemanly manner.
"Why, hello, ladies."
"Hello," Nancy politely returned, although having noticed the man's roaming eyes.
George echoed Nancy's greeting and the man, who George guessed to be in his late fifties, introduced himself as David Marks. He stuck out his hand in the customary way, which Nancy took and shook, introducing herself. George did the same, noting his firm grip and a certain officious way about the man that suggested authority.
"Folks here at the Faldor call me Colonel," he informed, "though I don't know why. I keep telling them I'm retired, but they still do it anyway. I think they just like the idea of having an officer kicking around, retired or no. They probably figure it gives the place class."
"My," Nancy replied, "the Faldor certainly seems to have enough of that. We've never seen a place like this."
Marks hissed a short laugh and said, "Gaudy and stuffy, you mean. Still, it's nice that such pretty young ladies can appreciate an older generation's style. Most people your age think plastic furniture is classy. Both of you, please have a seat."
They thanked him and took a seat on a couch opposite him, George noticing his eyes taking another quick tour of their bodies, resting on their legs as they settled before looking at their faces when he addressed them again.
"So, where are you from?"
"River Heights," Nancy replied.
"Say, I once knew a Private from River Heights," the Colonel recalled. "Glendon Creamer. Used to always insist his name was pronounced
Craymer.
Idiot. So, what brings you lovely ladies so far from home?"
"A friend of ours asked us to join her here on vacation," Nancy replied. "Perhaps you've met her; Susan Quinn?"
"Yes, I have," Marks said. "Damned fine looking woman, I must say. The sea air certainly agrees with her."
"Oh?" George prodded.
"It does with some people," he explained with a shrug. "You'll notice how all the locals are quite attractive and bright- well, with the exception of Billybob, but that's not their fault. Their parents were brother and sister, you know."
"Billy... I'm afraid I don't understand, Colonel," Nancy admitted.
"Billybob Boyle," Marks went on to explain without any sign of resentment at Nancy's reference to him by his rank, retired or no. "There's two of them, Billy and Bob Boyle. They're identical twins and nobody can tell 'em apart but, since neither of em are any good for anything, it doesn't matter, so folks just call 'em both Billybob. Reverend Stephens more or less looks after them since their parents died."
"Oh, I think we've seen one of them," George said. "When we first got here."
"They're mostly harmless," he said, glancing at Nancy's legs again before she got conversation back on subject.
"Actually, Susan hasn't answered her door since we've been here and we were wondering if you've seen her."
"Not lately."
"When was the last time?" George inquired.
"Last time I saw her? Well, that would've been a few days ago. Sunday, I believe... Yes, it was. She was swimming."
"Swimming?" George asked. "In the sea?"
"Sure, right out back here. Had on this little black bikini that was... well, little. Really little. Heh! Poor old Billybob just about jerked his dick raw watching her sunbathe on the beach, not that I blame him."
Both George's and Nancy's eyes widened at his callous choice of words as his mind seemed to drift off in what was probably some totally pornographic thoughts.
Nancy managed to stammer, "Uh, th- that doesn't really sound like Susan. I wonder if you could describe her?"
Shifting in his chair and with another glance at Nancy's and George's bodies, especially their chests, he replied, "Late thirties, long, dark brown hair, hazel eyes. Maybe about one hundred and thirty-five pounds with a nice, round ass and kinda big tits. What they call 'torpedo tits', if you know what I mean. Pretty face, too. Reminds me of a whore I once knew when I was stationed in- well, never mind."
Nancy could only nod at the Colonel's perverted description of Eloise's friend, somehow maintaining her composure while George could only goggle as the retired officer volunteered a little more information.
"I actually met her in here. She was sitting right where you are and reading when I came in one morning. She introduced herself, said she was a teacher and that she loves books. Of course, I was only too glad to have her company. Heather looks damned good for her age, but her conversational abilities are a little too scientific for my tastes. Have you met our good doctor, Heather Bolton, yet?"
Both Nancy and George replied that they hadn't before Marks went on with, "She's retired and lives here like I do. One hot looking retiree if you ask me but, like I say, the sea air here does a lot for some people. She's got a nice set of tits too. Not overly big, but they got a nice round shape and her ass looks like it's beggin' for a-"
"I'm sorry, Colonel," Nancy desperately interrupted. "It's been very interesting chatting with you, but George and I really should go try to find Susan. Maybe we'll meet up again sometime."
"I'm sure we will," he returned, seemingly unoffended as the two girls awkwardly stood to take their leave of him, his eyes once again briefly roaming over their young bodies. "I'm usually here reading. Drop by if you want some company, or a history of the hotel if you're interested. If I'm not here, I'm probably up in my suite- 207. Come on up and we'll have us a drink or three. I'll tell you some old war stories and we'll get to know each other better."
"That sounds like fun," Nancy told him with a pasted smile. "Goodbye, Colonel."
They said nothing while crossing the lobby, Nancy taking them in the direction of the dining room. Carmody didn't look up from whatever it was that he was writing as he stood behind the reception desk, and it wasn't until they were just beyond the threshold of the opposite set of French doors that the two girls even looked at each other. Their expressions were that of mutual disbelief mixed with slightly flushed embarrassment at the retired Army Officer's behaviour, but the man's frank and colourful way with words at least had the effect of nullifying the discomfort over Bess's earlier behaviour between the two friends.
The décor of the dining room followed that of the rest of the hotel, surrounding its diners with the now expected dark mahogany and crystals embedded in copper trim. Against the right wall was a long bar, also of mahogany and copper. Directly opposite the French entry doors was another extra wide door, most likely a portal to the kitchen, with a classic, inset round window. In the classy dining room, the carpet was a medium to deep brown and about twenty round tables with perfect, white tablecloths were well spaced throughout the room. A crystal chandelier that was approximately half the size of the one in the lobby hung from the center of the ceiling, but the lighting from the currently unmanned bar added to the room's cozy décor.
Choosing a table towards the center of the room, the two sat in nicely upholstered chairs, their expressions still incredulous as they began speaking in lowered voices.
