Hotel Summer

'Miss Nina, what did you do on your summer vacation?' I’m so glad you asked. Well my sweet dears let me start by saying that I recently spent a few nights dressed in nothing more than a hotel sheet.

I ask you, is it true? Do hotels really provide the stage for torrid sexual fantasy? It’s a rhetorical question because I, like you, know the answer. The answer is an enthusiastically moaned, yes, yes, yes (I’ll have what she’s having).

The sexual charge starts from the minute I walk into the lobby and ask if there’s room at the inn. I can tell almost immediately that the desk clerk knows something’s up. I mean really, if she didn’t clue in that things were going to get X-rated why else would she ask if I needed a room close to the ice-machine? I’m not sure what gives me away; it’s either the gleam in my eye or the height of my stiletto heels. Either way, no matter my attire, or my gleam, I gather I exude a sense of mischievousness, and to this I say, good for me… and whomever I’m with.

Once inside the assigned chamber I test out the bed—you know, to see if the springs can take the action they're about to abet. If they don’t squeak and the frame doesn’t creak I know all will be fantastical. Then, being an adventurous sort, I look for additional options; sex in bed is so suburban. Are the walls sound proof? Is there a window sill ample enough to provide support? Are there picture windows from floor to ceiling, and if so, do they provide a good view (not of what I can see, but of what I can present for others to see)? Is there a couch, a chair, an ottoman? Does the bed have posts or is it frameless? All these are important considerations when planning out the choreography for the evening: from the window, to the desk, to the ottoman and finally, to the bed (with or without restraints).

With equipment checked and options sussed it’s time to beckon in the evening’s caller. A quick call to the cell phone and lickety split, they’re past the desk clerk and in the room in two shakes of a frisky lamb’s tail.

A welcoming greeting is always best, for I do want to provide pleasure from the moment our eyes meet. As mentioned previously, I mix a mean cosmopolitan and the elixir has been known to work magic on whoever sips it. So, I pour.

With my evenings partner in sexual fantasy happily sipping their beverage, it’s time for me to utter the classic line (and yes, it’s classic for a reason because sometimes it’s all that fits), “excuse me while I slip into something more comfortable.” I take my leave and slink off into the bathroom to freshen up, so to speak. After mere moments, ever so freshly and suggestively, I present myself back on center stage, where the action is about to take place.

Remember my darlings, I’m on vacation while all this wanderlust is taking place. I’m an adventurous girl, but a practical girl. I pack light. Some would say very light, so light in fact that my ‘something more comfortable’ is usually nothing more than a smile. Oh the comfort and confidence a smile provides. A smile, always in fashion and it goes with every hue (Hugh?).

My co-star for the evening, if at all qualified to play against me, has taken their cue by now and disrobed as well. To my glee they know their role. We reunite on center stage wearing nothing more than our smiles.

With both players in costume, and in the mood, the curtains are drawn and unlike a normal play, this is when the action begins.

Now, I’m not going to go into detail about what takes place behind these drawn curtains, or under the crisp white sheets, or on the ample window sill. I do tell tall tales of my adventures I know, and you my sweet dears and I have developed quite an open relationship over these past few months. But for now, I feel I must hold back a little—tease you if you please. It’s time that I let you wander down the path I’ve laid before you and let your own imagination guide your mind, hands, tongue and lips. After all, it wouldn’t be nice for a lady to kiss and tell. And Miss Nina is, if nothing else, a lady.

Plus, if this is a tale of what I did on my summer vacation it must remain only half told, as summer still has its other half to give up.

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