Tracy Stockton

She was definitely... She was definitely...

How would I describe her? Cute?

Definitely, I would call her cute. Was she beautiful? She didn't initially strike me as a beauty pageant winner's untouchable beauty, but she was definitely attractive, and there was something about her. Eye Candy? Hard to say. She would also definitely be attractive on anyone's arm, including mine, except that she was probably half my age. But that didn't keep me from admiring her from afar.

She was also Asian. I wasn't sure at first which country she or her ancestors originated from, although the majority of Asia is covered by China, and later I found out she was of Chinese ancestry. Beautiful almond eyes, a complexion to die for, and a Mary Poppins body... almost perfect in every respect. My first glance her way was returned by a second and third -- but never for very long, as I didn't want her to think I was ogling her.

Even if I was.

~

The plane had been right on time, the last flight of the day, which allowed me the most time possible at home, arriving at about 8:30 pm. Even with a normal hour-and-a-half drive, and picking up my rental car, with off-hours traffic and, for the most part, ignoring speed limits, I arrived at the JustLikeHome Inn and Suites about ten minutes to 10. Better than I expected

A pleasant-looking blond wearing a uniform shirt and a nametag was behind the counter, dealing with a less-than-pleasant customer. I'd seen this before, a customer arriving late, and somehow, because that customer hadn't arrived earlier as they planned, it was the hotel clerk's fault. I set my bag and computer down and just stood back, waiting. It was somewhat unusual to arrive at 10 pm and find other customers checking in, as the majority of people arrive long before then, but it wasn't unheard of.

I glanced over to the young woman sitting on the edge of a table and nodded. I received a pleasant smile and a nod in return, acknowledging in my mind that she was, indeed, cute. If I'd been facing a direction to let my eyes survey her more, I would have, but since she wasn't in my line of sight, I didn't want to come across as a perv and just turn toward her to ogle her outright. I figured I'd have a chance to examine her again after I checked in -- she definitely seemed to be waiting for something. I wasn't sure -- was she part of the troublesome customers now tying up the check-in desk, or perhaps waiting on something else? She didn't seem to be checking in, just waiting.

Although I hadn't stared at the young woman, I'd definitely assessed her in the few short seconds that I'd glanced her way and nodded in greeting. She didn't quite look Vietnamese, or Korean, or Japanese. Could she have been Laotian, Burmese, or Thai? Maybe. Probably Chinese, I guessed. She wasn't just out of high school at 18 or 19, and no way was she late twenties. My eyes caught the wedding ring on her hand, which had been displayed where her fingers were wrapped over the edge of the table as she was leaning forward. Her blouse, with ruffles on the shoulders, dropped down in front, leaving her upper chest bare, covering most of her smaller breasts until it dipped between them, leaving enough flesh exposed to be young and stylish and exceedingly sexy. The top stopped below her breasts, leaving her midriff bare; below her belly, she had a stylish pair of short denim jeans, cut off so the strings at the bottom showed. Not quite short-shorts where it would have been pulled up to her pussy, but still fashionably short. Her legs were otherwise bare, but tanned -- she spent a lot of time outdoors. 23, I guessed as I looked away.Cute, and quite sexy,I thought again, but despite wanting to take another look, didn't immediately look back. As always, the thought of a cute and sexy woman took me to the standardI wonder what she's like in bed, thought that most males unconsciously have when viewing a cute and sexy woman, but in this case, my next thought was,In your dreams, old man. Reality set in; there was no way this sweet thing would ever be any more than a figment of my imagination.

My eyes returned to the counter and the attendant having trouble. There wasn't anything happening that I felt a need to intrude on. It wasn't an antagonistic exchange happening despite that the customer wasn't happy; it just wasn't going smoothly. I have, on at least one occasion, stepped into an exchange at a hotel where a customer was trying to intimidate some poor woman who was just trying to do her job, and later she was most grateful. The following day, a manager, obviously after a report from the attendant, presented me with a comped meal at the hotel restaurant. Not needed, but appreciated. This interaction was nowhere near that, but I saw her eyes raise from her interaction to the young woman sitting on the table, and even I recognized the "Can you help?" roll of her eyes and tilt of her head. I sensed the woman on the table rise and head off down the hall, only to reappear seconds later behind the counter.

"Can I help you, sir?" She asked as she was pinning a nametag: "Tracy -- Customer Service" almost to the shoulder of her blouse. I recognized that pinning almost to the shoulder was necessary, as otherwise she'd have been trying to pin it to the top of her breast, of which the form-fitting blouse wouldn't have made that easy, as much of the tops of her breasts were bare. The pinning of the nametag drew my eyes to her fingers as well as her breast; otherwise, I'd have been looking her in the eyes and examining with my peripheral vision. As her fingers pulled away, I saw the two slight bumps of her nipples protruding through her bra and blouse. I hadn't seen the bra between her breasts, but a slight vision of a strap at her shoulder had let me know she had one on.

"Checking in," I said as I stepped forward toward the side of the counter where she was opening a computer screen.

"Are you Jim?" She stated, typing on the computer.

"I must be the only one still not checked in?" I laughed, sliding over my driver's license and credit card.

"Last one for tonight," she giggled.

"I take it you're not really on duty tonight?"

"Normally, I would be. I usually work from 10 to 7, but I swapped with Linda for tonight. She just got here a bit early, so I was on my way home."

"Well, I gotta admit your uniform is a bit sexier than Linda's uniform." I knew it was a flirt, but telling a young woman, whom I probably will never have another interaction with, that I think she's sexy has never been "out of line" as far as I'm concerned, and often it gives their ego a real boost.

Tracy blushed and glanced over to Linda, who was still concentrating on her troubles. "Shh! The manager would be livid if she knew I was back here without having changed into uniform. But I'm going home in just a few minutes; I only stayed to chat with Linda. No way was I going to change back into uniform to help out for a few seconds."

Along with the cute blush, my peripheral vision had seen Tracy's nipples perk up substantially to my comment. The barely visible buttons, originally visible through her blouse, were now quite visible. That she'd appreciated the sexy comment, I had no doubt. Now able to examine her without appearing to, I realized her breasts were larger than I'd first assessed. What I'd originally presumed to be a modest A cup was more likely a B, perhaps even a small C cup.Definitely not a waste, but not by much, I thought, running the adage through my mind about the perfect size for tits:More than a mouthful is a waste. Every time she moved slightly away from the desk, I could momentarily see her bare belly and her flawless skin. Nice.

"Ok, Mr. Ba... Mr. Bera..."

I laughed. "Don't even try it. It's not pronounced the way the letters appear. Everyone just calls me Mr. B, or better yet, Jim."

She laughed. "OK, Jim. We've got you in room 319 for 5 nights, checking out Friday morning. Is that correct?"

"Sounds like it to me," I responded, looking at the sheet she handed me, signing where I was supposed to and slipping it back. "So, you'll be on at 10 tomorrow?"

She looked at me, questioning why I would be asking, and then acknowledged. "Yes, that's when I'm supposed to work." She paused slightly and added, "Why?"

"Just curious about when I come in to flirt with you, what time I should do so." I smiled, letting her know I was teasing.

"Any time after 10!" she giggled.

"319?" I repeated, glancing at the paperwork, making sure it was correct.

"That's correct. You're back in the corner, the furthest room from the elevator, which is down the hall to your right," she said, gesturing toward the hallway. "When you get off the elevator, it's all the way to the left, and you've got the stairwell immediately adjacent to your room, so it should be a bit quieter. Breakfast is from 6 to 10 weekdays, and Monday through Thursday, we have free hors d'oeuvres and happy hour from 4 to 6 in the breakfast room."

I thanked her and headed to the room, just happy to be on the ground and to where I could get the few things done that I needed for tomorrow before heading to bed. I glanced at my watch.Probably 2 AM before I get there, I thought, and nearly 3 hours later I found I was almost right. Not unusual for me, I seldom got to bed before 2 am, and didn't need to get to the job site before 10 or 11, finding with my job it was best to let those crews doing the physical work to get going before I came in to upset the apple cart. Most of the time, hotels worked perfectly for me. Maybe I didn't get the "freshest" breakfast, but I seldom had a crowd, and leaving the job site in the evenings, I found that once I knew the local restaurants and their hours, I could slide in and have a pleasant dinner, uninterrupted by much noise. As with most job sites, I often accomplished more in a couple of undisturbed hours in my hotel room than I did all day in the job office.

It was 2 am before I finally shut my computer off and headed to bed. I hadn't thought of her in perhaps 2 hours, but now, naked and climbing into bed, my mind drifted to the exotic young beauty behind the front desk of the hotel. Just coming off several weeks at the office and having had sex with my wife multiple times over the last few days -- it wasn't normal for me to be dwelling on the image of a sexy young woman, but she was definitely on my mind as I crawled into bed, and apparently remained so in my dreams.

I'm not one to normally remember dreams. Occasionally, I'll have a vague recollection when I awaken, but seldom do I awaken with a vivid recollection. And seldom will I wake in the middle of the night with a raging erection -- but both happened this time.

In my dream I was back at the desk checking in, the troublesome customer still checking in with the other clerk, but this time, when Tracy came out from the back room she was bare-breasted. She arrived, pulling her top down to let her breasts spill out of her top, giving herself a little pad of clothing to pin her nametag to. She said she wasn't really supposed to come out without her uniform shirt on, and she hoped I didn't mind as she pinned it to her blouse just below her naked breast. When I said, "I gotta admit your uniform is a bit sexier than Linda's uniform," her nipples perked up before my eyes, just as they had when I'd said that when it really happened at the front desk, but they weren't hidden by her bra and blouse in my dream. "They kind of like showing off, don't they?" I said. Tracy smiled in return, first glancing down at her bare breasts and then said, "They like to be looked at, but they like to be played with even more." I extended an arm across the desk, my fingers closing on her nipple. "Like this?" I asked. "Hmmm, that's really nice, but the other one's feeling left out." Leaning forward, I extended both arms, tweaking both nipples at the same time. She smiled, "Nice," she said. I saw her eyes turn sideways, and I did the same, finding the unhappy customer, and the other clerk, not even looking our way. Turning back, I found Tracy was no longer topless, my hands were no longer on her nipples, and her blouse was now in place. "Darn, Tracy, that was really nice. Did you have to put them away?" She frowned just a bit and said, "Maybe next time you can take us dancing."

The dream faded away, and moments later I awoke, the dream fresh and alive in my mind.

I knew it was a dream, and although sometimes on business trips I'll find myself a bit horny and needing to masturbate, seldom does that happen on the first day away from my wife. The image of the desk clerk was in my mind as I took care of business. I imagined pulling her top down again, exposing her cute little breasts and her nipples that had barely been covered by the cloth of her blouse at the front desk. I imagined her reaching up two-handed, hefting her breasts, her fingers latching onto her nipples, a smile on her face, looking right at me. I imagined my hands palming that firm bottom hidden by the cutoff shorts, caressing her ass as my lips and tongue did their best to have her nipples swell. I imagined slipping those shorts down and off, laying her back on the bed, and diving between her legs and letting my tongue dance on her pussy.

I lay there panting for several minutes, wondering what it was about this exotic Asian beauty that had tweaked my imagination, before I got up and cleaned the mess off my stomach. I returned to bed and almost immediately fell sound asleep.

~~~

"Welcome Back, Mister, uh... Mr. B..." Tracy greeted me two nights later as I arrived about 10:30. I'd hung out for a bit at the bar after dinner, watching the end of the ball game, where my "good guys" pulled it out.

"Please, just call me Jim," I laughed at her stutter.

"Ok, Jim, whatever you say. How's your stay so far? Everything going well?" I noticed her proper usage of the word "well", so different from the average youth of today who substitutes and uses "good" when they mean "well."

"Everything is fine so far, although I haven't had a chance to look for the pool yet. I'm assuming there is one, after all, this place is supposed to be "Just Like Home, right?"

"Oh, absolutely... Jim." I heard the slight hesitation, and knowing that desk clerks are reminded constantly to refer to customers by their last name, or by Sir or Madam, she'd had to stop and countermand training with what I'd told her. "The pool is at the end of this hall, and turn right. It's right next to the gymnasium. Pool hours are from 9 to 7 pm for families and kids, and 7 am to 10 pm for adults, so adults can have at least a couple of hours without," she dropped her voice and looked around the otherwise empty lobby, "screaming brats". She grinned conspiratorially.

I smiled back, and then glanced at my watch, seeing the quarter to eleven time, and just said "Oh."

"Is something wrong?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, generally when I'm at home, I take a dip in my home pool before going to bed. But on the job, I seldom get back to the hotel before 10:30 or 11, and then with a couple of hours of planning for tomorrow and emails, I usually don't get into bed before 2. That puts a dip in the pool a couple of hours out of whack."

She stood quietly for a moment and then conspiratorially leaned onto the counter. "Well, Mr. Jim," she started.

"Just Jim," I smiled.

"Well, Jim, in actuality, the pool hours just mean we turn the lights off and put a closed sign on the door -- but in reality, your door key still works all night long. And since I work nights, any time you want to take a swim before bed, just let me know you're going to do so, and you're welcome to take a quiet swim in the dark any night you want."

"So, if the lights are off, I can swim naked just like at home?" I smirked, trying to get her goat. I must have done so, as although her face didn't blush this time, I did see the two buttons of her nipples barely perk up through her shirt. So far, her uniform shirt and bra had done a fine job of hiding her nipples from view. Much better than the blouse she'd had on that first night.

"It wouldn't be the first time we've had skinny dippers after hours," she giggled, the smirk saying she was just as much trying to call my bluff as anything. She shrugged, "As long as the lights are off, who's to complain?"

She now smiled at my response, knowing that she'd gotten my goat as much as I'd gotten hers. "Ok, so it is. Ground rules are no naked swimming until after 10. Got it!" I laughed, as did she. "Ok, Tracy, see you tomorrow," and I headed down the hall. I smiled to myself as I turned away. Tracy was definitely cute and sexy, and I was enjoying flirting with her.

The pool and gym were just as she'd indicated. With the lights out and the area dark, I hadn't noticed it the first two nights there. Trying my key, the door did indeed open, and I stepped in, finding the pool and an adjacent large hot tub. I bent and tested the water with my hand, finding the pool comfortable and the spa hot, as if the smell of chlorine and steam hadn't been enough to tell me that. I usually stayed away from hotel hot tubs -- one never knew what kids had been in there using it as an open toilet, but the sign, barely visible in the dark on the wall, said "No children in hot tub. 15 years and older only." Maybe this wasn't quite so bad, and perhaps some night when I needed to relax, I might try it. Followed by a shower of course.

~~~

"Good evening, Tracy," I greeted her as I entered about 10:30. There wasn't anyone else in the lobby, and I'd seen her predecessor climbing into a car parked in the "employee" space as I'd been in the parking lot, so I knew their "handoff" had finished.

"Oh, Hello Mr... uh, Jim! Welcome back."

"Had to go put your uniform on this time, eh? I think you were a lot cuter in that ruffled top that first night. Sexier at least." As I'd hoped for, she blushed.

"Don't be talking like that around the manager in the mornings. She likes us all to present a "united front" so we're never to be at the counter without our uniforms."

"I know, no worries about me, but I like to tease. I found the pool by the way, right where you said it was. I'll have to bring a swimsuit next week."

"What? Not going to skinny dip on me?" She laughed, and I recognized the tease in return.

"Yeah, probably not. Wouldn't want the cops to be called for some pervert skinny dipping in the hotel pool, would I?"

"Well," she giggled, "you wouldn't be the first, but I've never called the cops as long as people are behaving themselves."

I looked at her, questioning. Something in the way she said it told me she "knew" something, but I didn't know what. "You know, or you suspect?" I asked.

"We've got some swingers who come in about once a month. They rent the 'big suite' upstairs with the living room between the two large bedrooms, which gives them room for 8 with four king-size beds."

"How do you know they are swingers?"

She rocked her head to one side. "After a while, you know more about virtually everyone who comes more than once when you work in a hotel." I nodded in understanding. "A couple of times, some others have rented extra bedrooms at the same time, asking for the same floor, and they all knew each other when they arrived. On at least one occasion, a bunch of them decided to go skinny dipping at 2 in the morning, and I had to ask them all to leave."

"Oh my. Were they just swimming?"

'Well, they were mostly paired up in different parts of the pool when I opened the door, but nothing was going on that I could see. I don't think there were any couples that had arrived together either. I just turned the lights on and told everyone they had to get out and go to their rooms."

"They were all naked?" She nodded. "And of course, you waited to make sure they all left?"