Click. The door swung open, revealing a neat, organized hotel room. To her right was a bathroom and to her left a closet, both of which she walked by, entering the main room. It was nice – not overly fancy or showy. The king-sized bed took up most of the room, with a nightstand on either side and a TV on a dresser at the front of the room. In the corner, by a pair of large curtains she assumed led to the balcony, sat a desk. She placed the room key, her purse, and her phone on the desk.
She had been in hotel rooms, before, of course, but never by herself. She dropped her backpack on the floor and looked to the bed, kicking off her sneakers. The brown and gold comforter was perfectly folded and tucked under the corners of the king bed, fluffy pillows sat at the head. She'd never had a king bed to herself before, either. Playfully, she jumped onto the bed, enjoying the bounce as the mattress springs handled her weight easily and silently. She laid down on her back, spreading her limbs out to each direction, like a star. Studying the ceiling intently, she let the situation rush over her. Was she really going through with this?
The clock read 12:26 in glowing red letters. She turned her attention back to the ceiling, mentally reviewing the constant list of responsibilities she held. Biology homework, chemistry review, Spanish paper, prep for her lab courses, talking to that professor for her research study. She sighed, shaking her head to clear it. That wasn't what tonight was about. Sitting up, she grabbed her backpack and pulled it to her, rummaging through it quickly. She pulled out a plastic grocery bag filled with travel-sized bottles, a toothbrush and toothpaste, two razors, and a small poof – her first task, of course. She set the toiletries next to her and dipped her hand in again, pulling out a pair of panties and a night gown, lacy and sheer. She smiled at the lingerie in her hand; the contrast of her pale skin against the bright blue color was beautiful. Peering in the bag, she saw a pair of strappy black high heels sitting on regular clothing. Yes, she knew she packed all this, but seeing it in the hotel room made it more real. Lastly, she pulled out two bottles of nail polish and placed them, too, on the comforter.
She stood and began to pull off her clothing: a pair of tight blue leggings, a baggy tank top, a push up bra, a simple black thong, and her socks, which didn't even match. Typical college girl apparel, she thought, stuffing the clothing into her pack and zipping it shut. She gathered her toiletries and polish and walked to the bathroom, tossing her backpack in the closet as she went. Flicking the light as she entered the bathroom, she paused, taking in her surroundings. The counter of the sink was lined with the little freebie soaps, and white, fluffy towels were on every rack, piled high on the shelf above the toilet. The shower seemed clean, the curtain partially open and dry.
She shut the bathroom door behind her, locking it for good measure. She pushed the curtain to the corner, plugged the drain, and started a bath, adjusting the water to be quite warm, but not hot. She turned back to counter, looking herself over in the mirror. She caressed her body, her hands tracing up the curve of her sides and over her breasts – they were large, with soft pink areolae that barely stood out on her white skin. Her nipples were tiny and usually unresponsive, they did not perk at her touch. She studied her face, taking in the naturally dark lips that had formed a small smile that always bordered on a smirk. Her eyes were a deep blue-green and her face was flushed. Anticipation, she supposed. Her hair was somewhat wavy, curling at the tips which hung by her breasts. She was a brunette, she supposed, or an incredibly dirty blond. She grinned – maybe she wasn't blond, but she was certainly dirty!
The room was beginning to steam from the bath as she turned, looking at herself in profile. The stretch marks on her hips and breasts were faint on her fair skin, but mildly noticeable. Her breasts barely protruded past her stomach, which was rounded and soft, normally a point of insecurity for her. She turned more, so she could see her butt in the mirror. She flexed her legs, pleased at the way her ass bounced and moved. For a white girl, she had an awesome butt. She looked down, taking in her legs which could not be seen over the counter. Her feet were wide, but small, leading to her ankles – the only part of her body that was without scars, she knew. Her calves were heavily tapered, and grew wider as her eyes traveled up her leg, tucking in at the knee and leading to her thighs. She ran her hands over her legs, reveling in the sensation of her coarse hair bristling against her fingers. Her knees were heavily scarred, which explained why she could not feel them any longer. Her thighs were bright white, pressing together tightly when she stood with her ankles together. As her hands ran up her thighs, she felt the soft hair, so light and blond it was nearly imperceivable on her skin. Her left hand dipped between her thighs and met her mound, slowly stroking the thick bush of hair. She smiled, tugging lightly at the hair that had taken weeks for her to grow out. Her smile turned into a grin as she realized that she was probably one of the very fewest girls at her university that had a full bush.
She turned to the water, which was filling a third of the tub. Grabbing a bottle from her bag, she poured bath soaps into the running water, watching it bubble instantly. She added a fizzing crystal that she had stolen from a gift basket at some point. This was all about her, she had decided – she was in a luxurious hotel and she was going to have a luxurious bath. She hoped it would calm her nerves, too.
Using the hair tie that was always on her wrist, she pulled her hair up into a high ponytail, hoping to keep it out the bath water. She doubled up the tail, making a bun that hung to her ears. Sufficient, she thought. She laid out her soaps, razor, and polish on the edge of the bath, hanging the poof on the water knobs. The water filled half the tub and she stepped in, letting her feet adjust to the sudden onslaught of heat. She sat down slowly as her body acclimated to the heat; she enjoyed watching the water level rise and the bubbles slosh from her movements. She turned off the water and sat back with her eyes closed, her short body fitting fairly easily in the tub. She soaked for a few moments, her thoughts churning.
Was this actually a smart idea? She had never met this man before... There were many ways this could go badly. He was older, after all, at 28; she was just 19. Horror stories of girls meeting the "perfect man" from online that turned out to be murderers flooded her mind. No, that wouldn't happen to her. She had seen him in the pictures and videos – talked with him on videochat even. He was so honest, he couldn't be lying. She had given him nothing but her first name, yet he gave her both his first and last and never pushed her for more information than she willingly gave. Surely her internal creeper-alert would have gone off by now if something were wrong... and her instincts seemed to tell her the complete opposite. No, this was okay. It was right.
Her thoughts drifted to this man, to his body... the way his words affected her. Idly, her left middle finger traced circles on her clitoris and she bit her lip. How had he convinced her to go through with this? To meet him in a hotel room... To spend the night with him. Her hand combed through her bush as she thought of the sexy texts they had exchanged, the snapchats that she had told herself she wouldn't send but did anyway. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, his thick member pressing between her legs. Her mind replayed the memory of his hand stroking his cock as he watched her masturbate for him, the image changing to his cum sprayed across a mirror...
She sat up, grabbing the side of the tub and panting. She had been on the verge of climax without realizing it. Her clit throbbed and her body was flushed pink. No, she wanted to save that for him.
The bubbles had faded and the water had cooled significantly while she was lost in her thoughts. She let some water drain from the tub, refilling it with hot water. She dried her hands on a towel that was barely within her reach, and then picked up her nail polish. One was blue, to match her lacy outfit that awaited her on the bed. The other was a clear coat which she methodically brushed on and waited a few minutes for it to dry. Next, two coats of blue, and a longer waiting period. She was careful with the last coat of clear, which made her nails shine. After a few moments she added cold water to the tub, letting the water rub over her fingers, hardening the polish. She quickly added the hot water back and then picked up a razor.
She toyed with the purple disposable razor in her hand, looking at her body through the water. Her toes were getting wrinkled from her extended stay in the water. The biology of skin pruning ran through her mind and she smiled, lifting a leg into the air. Setting down the razor she picked up a bottle, squeezing a scented body wash into her hand. Fruity and flowery – not normally words she used to describe herself, but a scent she enjoyed all the same. She slathered the soap on her left calf, working it into a thick lather that clung to her skin. She picked up the razor again and dipped it in the water before bringing it to the inside of her calf. She always started on the inside ankle. She dragged the blade smoothly up her leg, watching as her pale skin was revealed through the lather. She inspected the triple-bladed head, then rinsed it in the water and began again.
The act of methodically preparing herself for a man turned her on; she loved to watch herself transform. The razor ran over every inch of her skin on her calves and knees, revealing slick, warm skin. She shaved her quads, ignoring the backs of her legs where the hair grew soft and thin; it was too much work and she doubted he would notice or even care. She rinsed her legs and then ran her hands across them, feeling for bits she may have missed. Any such patches were quickly remedied by her razor, which then made a pass under her arms. She looked at the second razor, realizing it as superfluous. Her hand ran through her soft bush for the hundredth time, glad she wouldn't have to shave it.
She let the tub drain before standing and removing her hair tie, letting her hair fall down to her shoulders. Relaxation was over; time to get down to it. Pulling the curtain across, she turned on the shower and let water run over her face and chest before dipping her head into the spray, thoroughly soaking her hair. She scrubbed shampoo into her scalp, letting the foam fall into her face and onto her body. She rinsed her face and picked up the poof, squeezing the lovely scented body wash onto it. She began at her left shoulder, traced down the arm to her hand, and back up the other side. Then from her shoulder to her chest, starting on her left breast and moving to her right, then on her stomach. The loofah made its way around her sides and lower back, switching hands as it went. She washed her right arm similarly, then scrubbed her neck. Resting a foot on the corner of the tub, she scrubbed down and up one leg, around her foot, and then rinsed. She treated the other leg equally, her back to the spray while she gently washed her mound and between her legs. Turning to rinse, she washed each butt cheek and then hung the poof on the water knob to dry. She turned about once again, taking suds from her hair and rubbing them into her bush.
Her head tossed back, letting the water comb the suds free. Her hands shook free loose bubbles and dragged through the tangles. As she faced the water again she picked up her conditioner, squeezing a large dollop into her hand. She spread the conditioner through her wet locks, massaging her scalp deeply at she enjoyed the water on her face. Her hands, coating in conditioner, stroked through her hair to untangle it. The remnants of the conditioner were similarly worked into her pubic hair, which she played with. She rinsed her hands and stepped back from the spray, pulling out face wash. She washed and rinsed gently before pulling out an exfoliating scrub, which she nearly ground into the skin on her cheeks, chin, nose, forehead, chest, and neck. Satisfied, she stepped back into the water and let it cascade over her face, washing away the gritty scrub. Ducking her head under the spray, she let the conditioner run out, leaving her hair silky and untangled.
