A Strea in the Night

Chapter from my current novel, which has the occasional erotic theme. Hope you enjoy.

-B_F

16 / Anna: A Streak in the Night

Truth be told, Special Agent Anna Parker had not given any thought to her expectations for the reminder of the night. In hindsight, she would blame the evening's events on that. Her lack of planning. Her lack of initiative. It was like playing strip poker without paying attention to the flop, turn, or river -- in the end she was just asking to be exposed. All the cards had been laid on the table, it was her who didn't realize she had a pair of aces.

Special Agent Harrison Burns had left Special Agent Parker and Special Agent Gennie Green at their door. They watched him travel to the far end of the hall, where his own room waited for him. Each woman had a different comment in mind.

I wonder if I will end up on that end of the hallway later, Special Agent Parker thought with a smirk. There was a first for everything, and she felt the heat from her doppelganger downstairs in the dining room. Special Agent Green, however, was lost in wondering if the tub in their room would have jets.

Special Agent Green removed the key from her Special Agent Parker's frozen hand as she watched her partner grow smaller down the hallway, and inserted it into the door. Neither female special agent could believe they were staying at an inn that used actual keys. Anna followed her through the doorway, noting the warmth she felt in her face and the tingling she felt elsewhere.

As they closed the door to their inn room, Special Agent Green was the first to speak. She wasted no time in committing the formal niceties as they took in their room for the night.

The room was a modest size; the furniture and décor did its best to imitate a hotel environment, despite the family inn reality. The walls were a honey yellow, transitioning nicely into the dark brown wooden floors.

Likely the original flooring.

Immediately to the right was a closed door that led to the bathroom. A small wooden desk and matching chair, both a lighter shade of brown than the floor beneath them, was in the far corner of the room. In the front of the room stood a slim television stand with a flatscreen from early 2010s that would make the current model of flatscreens look anorexic. On each side of the television stand, and at the foot of each of the queen beds were wooden dressers, a shade like the desk and chair.

All of the furniture was before either special agent was born, but the dressers themselves seemed to be the most antique. It was likely they inherited their stubbornness from the carpenter that bore them each. The two queen beds took up a large portion of the room and shared a large, purple rug that was the only thing in the room more out of place then the women themselves.

Special Agent Parker was relieved the room, despite reminding her of a stay with her grandparents, was nothing akin to camping. She did question the legitimacy of the plumbing, however.

"That's my favorite color purple," Special Agent Green remarked excitedly as she stepped out of her dress shoes to feel the rug on her feet. Special Agent Parker noted the young woman had kept her socks on and waited in anticipation as she watched Special Agent Green's dark hair introduce itself to static electricity.

"I should have seen that coming," Gennie mumbled in disappointment as she turned to her mentor, long strands of straight hair reaching for the ceiling above them. Special Agent Parker could not help but laugh immediately at the sight.

"How bad is it?" Special Agent Green asked as she raised both arms to feel her electric porcupine hair.

"It's a stay-in night for you," Special Agent Parker smiled as she dropped her laptop bag and travel bag onto the closest dresser.

As she began to unpack what she needed for the night, Special Agent Parker heard footsteps coming from the bathroom floor. She turned to find the door open and smiled at herself. Her theory was confirmed when she heard feet scampering and Special Agent Green hurried out of the bathroom. She was beaming ear to ear. Maybe as close as physically possible, Special Agent Parker noted.

"The tub has legs!" the rookie special agent spoke excitedly. Special Agent Parker shared another smile with her roommate. She would not be taking a turn in the clawfoot tub.

It's the simple things in life.

Then, as if she had been struck by real electricity, Special Agent Green morphed herself into a remorseful version of herself.

"But we could totally have a girls night! I bet that woman, the 'gorge' one downstairs, would have a bottle of wine. I'm sure we could find a movie," she said excitedly as she pointed to the minimum ten-year-old television. Her facial expressions indicated that she was unsure if the last thought would be possible.

Special Agent Parker was not going to take the time to explain to her that unless she had brought the physical movie with her, they would not be watching a movie tonight. She doubted cable offered more than local news, and if so, a movie channel was unlikely.

I just turned 29 and this girl is making me feel like a fossil...

Special Agent Parker knew the young woman's heart was set on a birthday bath. She had been gripping the bath bomb that she was gifted in the lobby like it was a winning lottery ticket their entire way to their room. She was not sure how she felt about a girl's night with Gennie Green. Such nights were a coinflip with her own group of girlfriends. And so, Special Agent Parker had thanked Special Agent Green for her niceties, but told her to enjoy herself in the tub.

"I will go find us a bottle of wine," she announced in a determined fashion as she scooped the archaic metal key the closest dresser. In her right slack pocket remained the keys to one black FBI Explorer. One thing Special Agent Parker had never been surer of, she would not be returning to that room without alcohol.

She found the door to stairwell without trouble, using the stairs for a second time in less than a fifteen minutes. When they had received their keys for rooms on the third floor, she was slightly annoyed that there was no elevator. It was just another difference from a hotel stay, which appeared more luxurious every minute. She had come to the conclusion now, however, that she would not have used an elevator anyways. The inn was run by two people, an old man and his daughter, no doubt the maintenance help for the inn was third party, and at least an hour away.

That would be a long wait in a stranded elevator.

Special Agent Parker descended the stairs quickly, hoping to locate a bottle of wine and return to the room so she could finally settle down for the night. Like everything Special Agent Parker did, she did this efficiently. She made it down the two flights of stairs in record time, the heels of her tan, pointed toe Chelsea boots announcing each step and echoed off the concrete walls. She ripped opened the stairwell door to the lobby. She was surprised to find a middle aged couple at one of the tables, playing cards -- both faces were turned in her direction.

"I thought there was a tap dance recital going on in the stairwell," the woman said, either trying to be funny or intending to be rude but appear funny. This was not a mystery Special Agent Parker needed to solve, she decided.

"Please don't mind my wife," the man said as he returned his study to his cards. Special Agent Parker passed the table, embarrassed by her childlike antics in the stairwell. She could hear the woman muttering under her breath, "Mind my wife. Mind my wife..."

The 'gorge' woman, as Special Agent Green put it, was nowhere to be found. Special Agent Parker retrieved a bottle of sauvignon blanc. She took her younger colleague for a Merlot gal, but the only other red option was a pinot noir.

Pinot noir, more like 'please no', she thought to herself as she recalled the night her and her best friend, Jewel, journeyed through three bottles of that red nectar. Ever since that following morning, when she relived her share of the three bottles all over again, just hearing the words resulted in a reflective gag.

Before passing the table again, the man asked her, "Are you looking for the bathroom key?"

Admittingly, Special Agent Parker was trying her best not be seen in passing and was quite phased by the question.

"No, sir. Getting a bottle of wine," she said as she lifted the bottle to show him.

"Then the bathroom!" the woman smiled, amused by her own joke. The man ignored his jester of a wife.

"My apologies. Two boys were down here before and were looking for the bathroom key. It's on the check-in counter if you need it," he said as he motioned to the bathroom in the corner of the lobby and to the counter where they checked in earlier.

Special Agent Parker thanked the man kindly and finally accomplished passing the table. As she did so, she heard the woman speak in a softer tone, not for her to hear.

"If you are going to flirt with her, can I flirt with Elton John at the concert tomorrow?"

Special Agent Parker wondered if this is what she was missing in a long-term relationship. Before she closed the stairwell door behind her, she heard the man retort, "It's SIR Elton John, and by all means if you can get his attention from Row 18..."

By the time Special Agent Parker returned to their inn room, Special Agent Green was sitting on the bed farthest from the door, a fluffy white robe hugging her body.

"These are super comfy!" she said as she hugged herself in the robe. She then pointed to the white folded fluff on Special Agent Parker's bag, as she said excitedly "I found one for you, too!" Special Agent Parker assured her she would be comfortable in her own loungewear. She could not recall wearing a robe in front of anyone except a boyfriend a time or two. Those were motives she would not have with the younger female special agent.

...

Half an hour later, Special Agent Parker found herself with a paper cup of sauvignon blanc, her third of the early night, in one hand and her phone in the other as she scrolled through a blur of social media. She leaned comfortably against the headboard, allowing her legs to stretch to the bottom of the bed. Her Chelsea boots were placed neatly at the foot of the bed.

The work clothes of Special Agent Parker had been removed with celerity after she poured herself a cup and did the same for her mentee before ushering her away into the bathroom, cup in hand. She was planning on retiring into the night in her most comfortable pairing of leggings and a large t-shirt.

As she sipped her third cup, wishing she had a different vessel choice than the paper cups that are left on the sink, likely for coffee or water, she stopped her phone scrolling on a picture of a bright-smiling Harrison Burns. He had posted it the night before, it looked like he was at dinner. The alcohol had numbed her mind, and she liked the photo without a moment's hesitance.

It was then the alcohol began to whisper thoughts that she had never actually envisioned possible.

When will it be me on the other side of the table, taking his picture? Or even better, someone taking a picture of us both?

She immediately shook her head, turning to the comforter she had ripped off of the bed and discarded in the corner of the hotel room. She tried to focus on the thought of the last time that comforter had likely been washed, but it was her partner that dominated her intoxicated mind.

Yes, he's handsome. Very handsome. And yes, his physique is something I would typically crave on my own body...

Again, Special Agent Parker shook her head. They were partners, this was dangerous. Crushes were just that and meant to be that. Crushed. She had a crush on Kevin Bacon but she would never tipsy-toe herself to his end of the hall after 11:30 at night.

Would I though?

She threw her phone into the bed in frustration and stared into her empty cup.

I'm going to need another if I am going to do this.

A fourth paper cup was filled and sipped competitively until empty. As alcohol prominently does, it elicited from Anna Parker something that was rarely ever done -- she giggled. She checked her hair in the mirror outside the bathroom and thanked God she did not remove her makeup yet.

Then, without any plan to what she would say to her special agent partner, to whom she was his senior, or how she would appear to him blitzed at his door in the middle of the night, wearing leggings and a long t-shirt that read, "Anti-hero", she grabbed the long metal key off the dresser. As she closed the door behind her, she heard Gennie yell from behind the closed bathroom door, "I'm on a boat!"

After shuffling half the distance of the halfway, Anna heard a gentle, rhythmic tapping paired with feminine sound of excitement. In her inebriated state, she couldn't help but mumble with entertainment,

"No more monkeys jumping on the bed..."

As Anna reached the end of the hall, she realized she did not know which room was Harrison's. If she had to guess, it was the last door on the left, but how well could she have seen all the way down the hall? It very well could have been the second last door on the left.

This thought was interrupted by a more distinct melody, one that any being, intoxicated or not, could conclude it was not a case of primates being let out of their barrel and onto one of the inn beds.

From what sounded like tapping a few seconds ago, was now very clearly more of a pounding. In rhythm with this impact, she heard the excitement of the female voice, which she thought could have been laughter before, was now more feral in nature.

Even still she could not help but think, Poor Harrison, there is no way he is sleeping through this.

How welcome her company would be!

One-word sobered Anna Parker like a few hours passing and a strong, black cup of coffee.

"Harryyyyyyyy," the voice yelped in a high-pitched moan.

Intoxicated and therefore without shame, Anna placed her ear next to the door, and for a moment the only sound she could hear was her quickening heartbeat. Then she heard the woman cry, "Harryyyyyy...ohhhh...Harryyyyy," followed quickly in what sounded like a high pitched exhale, "Just like th....atttt."

The last phrase acted like a command to wake her from hypnotism. She backed away from the door, stunned. Shock turned to anger, and she was in her room again pouring another cup. It might have been two. Despite the tears she watched in the mirror, she noticed her emotions had shifted again. Was it the long day tormented by the thought of lost trust from her own mentor, more wine than she had drank in a couple years combined, or the animalistic noises of another woman being pleasured by the man that should have been hers? That pleasure should have been hers.

Call it ecstasy, delirium, or hysteria -- it was sheer caprice that Anna stripped out of her long t-shirt and leggings and wrapped her naked body in the robe Gennie left for her.

Anna checked herself in the mirror and was surprised to find the robe fit her much differently than the petite Gennie. Where it looked comfortable on Gennie, it looked snug on her. The bottom of the robe barely reached mid-thigh, and where on Gennie only her collar was visible, on Anna there was heavy cleavage. Care she did not, she had a memory from college when she was in a similar state, and she was out to achieve its climax. Before she left the room, she grabbed the key again and stuffed it into her robe pocket.

She opened the room door hesitantly, peeking out only her head to check for other occupants who might be up to something a quarter before midnight. The hallway was empty. It was her quick tip-toing through the hallway and down the cold stairwell stairs that Anna realized she was barefoot. She still would not be deterred.

Once at the bottom of the stairwell, she opened the door a crack and peeked into the lobby. It was dark. The table that was occupied by the middle aged couple was empty. Slowly, she left the stairway and dashed across the lobby floor. She tugged at the bathroom door a couple times before she remembered the man's words. Anna tore across the check-in counter until she found the key. She unlocked the door, fumbling the key in the insert, and pulled the door closed quickly behind her.

It was a tiny room, fit with a toilet and sink. A small mirror hung erect on the wall behind the sink. She watched herself gasp for air, taking deep breaths. In all of her adrenaline she had neglected her own arousal. She was now aware of the wetness of her thighs. How she ached.

She looked at herself in the mirror and found the determined face she was looking for. She took the key out of her robe pocket and placed it on the top of the sink by the faucet. She splashed water on her face as to give herself one last chance to exit her current state. She did not.

Anna disrobed and let white fluff hang on the mirror. With the bathroom key in hand, she opened the bathroom door again, locking it from the inside. When she was sure of the stillness, she darted from her position towards the back door of the inn by the garden that caught her eye when they checked in. She did not care that she slammed the door behind her. It was a dimly lit spot, the brightest light was from the moon in the sky above her.

A stark-naked Anna Parker sauntered through the garden and into the darkness before the woods. She slowed her pace to a creep, watching around her to see if anyone was around.

Just the darkness.

She felt the night air nip at her areolas, she was drunk on the goosebumps on her arms and legs. She basked in the moonlight there for a few more moments, before darting into the woods. As she raced through the trees, she felt fallen branches and pinecones bite at the soles of her feet.

She did not know how long she had been in the woods during her shameless hour before deciding to turn around. As she sprinted back to the garden, the 'dim' lights she saw before sobered her now as being much brighter. Like Eve had discovered during sin, Anna became well aware of her vulnerable state. She covered her breasts and groin area, unshaved for the last several months, as she crept back through the garden.

A thought terrorized her as she reached the backdoor, crouched as low as her knees would allow her.

What if its locked?

The idea seemed to freeze her. Where would she go? What would she do? How would she explain it? All of these questions faded as she turned the doorknob and felt the inside air. Anna was full of regret as she reached the bathroom door. Even more regret found her when she saw her own reflection in the mirror.

Where is my robe?

Fuck!

Only her room key remained, placed on top of the sink where she left it. Her hyper state did not allow her to even be thankful for that. Her overcome mind sped until it felt like she was only wasting time. She knew the solution. She was going to run the entire way. She was too tired and nervous to sit and wait.

Anna grabbed her key off of the sink and ran through the lobby. She tore up the stairs, and through the hallway towards her room door. A few doors before hers, she heard a door unlock behind her and a man's voice, unfamiliar to her, said in surprise, "The Red Flash!" His voice again found her further down the hall with a chuckle, "The carpet DOES match the drapes!" It was a statement that would make her shudder anytime she considered dying her hair in the future.

She reached her door, almost inserted her entire hand into the door with the key, and shut it loudly behind her. The room inside was pitch-black dark. From the far side of the room she heard Gennie mumble, "Where have you been?"

"I took a walk to clear my head," Anna said quickly as she slid her bare boody under the sheets of her bed before any light found her and exposed her sin to her mentee.