"ROOM 214" (Part 1)
My final paper in Mr. Teller's class had to be something innovative if I wanted to get that Journalism scholarship. Rumors had circulated about the supernatural occurances in room 214 of the Ashford Hotel. Staff and guests were always tight-lipped about their experiences in that particular room; only a smile would creep across their faces when asked about it. The few who would testify to their visits described some nonsense about a rejuvenation of the senses, like being treated to a waking erotic dream. This was supposedly attributed to the death of a glamorous starlet, Wendy Shine, who occasionally held lengendary fetish parties in that very room during the mid 40's. Urban folklorists theorized that the room was since populated by the ghosts of all her perverted guests, and that anyone who entered the room would be treated to their benevolent mischief.
The room had been locked for the last fifteen years, all of its contents preserved. Luckily, the hotel manager proved to be a dirty old man. A little flirtation and a plunging neckline won me his favor, and I was given the key to the mysterious room for one night. However, I had no intention of staying in room 214 for the entire night, so it took me nearly a week's pay just to check into the room next door. I was surprised to find that I was the only occupant on the floor; apparently the ghostly rumors had proven their longevity.
I felt a extremely defenseless, being the only person within earshot. If anything happened in that room, no one would hear my cries for help. This made me hesitate my exploration.
I was just stepping out of the shower when I heard a loud click from next door. I was surprised that I had instantly gained the nerve to check it out. All fear had left me, and I was so eager to investigate that I left my room wrapped only in a towel. I walked over to room 214 before I remembered I'd left the key in my room. Then I noticed that the room was slighlty ajar.
My mind wandered for an instant. I thought perhaps the manager had set up cameras in the room for his amusement. Maybe he was hoping the room's kinky reputation would get the better of me, and I would give in to masturbation once inside, for his visual enjoyment. I can't say that thought had not crossed my mind, and standing in front of the door now, I was a little nervous of what this room was capable of.
Only one way to find out.
I pushed open the door and was treated to a rush of warm air, intensely comforting. That pervert had been in there! He must have. Why else would he pre-heat this room except to provide a comfortable atmosphere for a girl with a curious itch? I didn't know whether to curse him or thank him, because the warmth was immediatetly taking its toll. And the rush continued, soothing my face and blowing up my towel.
I was suddenly reminded of times when I was home alone after a shower, crouching in front of the heater vents and letting the air blow up through my towel. Those sensations were so real to me now I could almost smell my mother's carpet freshener. The scent was coming from the room, a pleasant potpourri.
I threw the door wide open to the dark room, and the pleasant onslaught of warmth continued. I invited it completely, spreading myself in the doorway, legs apart. My towel balooned outward from the gust, giving the blissful air full access to me. The now torrid breeze lost no intensity as it brushed my pubic hair, rolled over my stomach, and cascaded over my nipples. I shuddered and sighed, being teased with a patience no boy had ever given me.
As I stretched my arms up to grab the doorframe, the feelings grew stronger, as if countless fingers were now exploring my flesh. I must be hallucinating, I thought. Then my eyes opened wide as these imaginary fingers found their way across my rib cage. I gasped as I was suddenly tickled by this sentient breeze. A giddy smile stretched across my face as I quickly looked back and forth down the hall to make sure I wasn't being spied upon. This wasn't the hotel manager's doing, I was being handed a full invitation to the legendary room.
While I decided whether to venture futher or not, the hot breeze continued to tease me with its almost tangible appendages. And the tickling persisted, my armpits, my stomach, my thighs. I was cackling in ecstasy, whipping my short hair around like a cheerleader's pom-pom. Then the sweet tickling wind took matters a step further, between my legs. All was brushed aside to expose my stiffened clitoris.
"Oh, no you don't," I giggled out loud.
But it did. Oh, it most definitely did. The absolute tip of my most sensitive spot was being rapidly flicked up and down by what felt like a pointed tongue. The bliss was maddening. I wanted to step away and protect myself from the almost unbearable enticement, but my body insisted on my staying, my hips thrusting as the invisible pervert had its way with me. I grunted and groaned like a whore. I bit my lip as the sweet moment gave its first hintful tingle. I was about to orgasm harder than I had ever dreamed, and not a hand had been laid upon me.
Then I noticed my towel being untied from under my arm. The fabric slid open, revealing my thrusting buttocks to anyone who might walk by. I suddenly realized the display I must be making, a prominent highschool senior humping the air like a slut with only a towel hanging on her large, proud bossom. I arched my back in both passion and a feeble attempt to keep my towel in place. But the towel began to fall. No, it was being pulled down ever so slightly. It wasn't enough that this room was treated to every inch of my flesh, but it wanted me completely naked. I was almost doubled over backwards, when the towel finally lost its sweet grip on my wet nipples. I finally convinced my arms to grab it and cover myself. I fell backwards into the hall and brushed the bangs out of my eyes.
The room was still open, still inviting. My legs shook from the impending climax I was suddenly denied. There was no doubt I was at the point of no return. I could either go back to my room and finish myself off like a good girl, or I could surrender my body to the merciless perversions of this room 214.
It took me less than a heartbeat to decide. I hadn't even passed the threshold of the room before, and it proved itself capable of pleasuring me. I couldn't even imagine what would be in store inside. I couldn't just enter something of so much power; I had to offer myself.
"What are you going to do to me?" I asked the room rhetorically. I expected no answer, and was given none. I would just have to find out for myself.
I stood up and looked up and down the hall one last time to avoid any spying eyes. Then I cast aside my towel. The suddenly helpless feeling I had brought forth a girlish giggle.
I took the last few steps inside and closed the door behind me. This fantastic room was going to enjoy me. And I was going to enjoy being enjoyed!
-To be continued...
My final paper in Mr. Teller's class had to be something innovative if I wanted to get that Journalism scholarship. Rumors had circulated about the supernatural occurances in room 214 of the Ashford Hotel. Staff and guests were always tight-lipped about their experiences in that particular room; only a smile would creep across their faces when asked about it. The few who would testify to their visits described some nonsense about a rejuvenation of the senses, like being treated to a waking erotic dream. This was supposedly attributed to the death of a glamorous starlet, Wendy Shine, who occasionally held lengendary fetish parties in that very room during the mid 40's. Urban folklorists theorized that the room was since populated by the ghosts of all her perverted guests, and that anyone who entered the room would be treated to their benevolent mischief.
The room had been locked for the last fifteen years, all of its contents preserved. Luckily, the hotel manager proved to be a dirty old man. A little flirtation and a plunging neckline won me his favor, and I was given the key to the mysterious room for one night. However, I had no intention of staying in room 214 for the entire night, so it took me nearly a week's pay just to check into the room next door. I was surprised to find that I was the only occupant on the floor; apparently the ghostly rumors had proven their longevity.
I felt a extremely defenseless, being the only person within earshot. If anything happened in that room, no one would hear my cries for help. This made me hesitate my exploration.
I was just stepping out of the shower when I heard a loud click from next door. I was surprised that I had instantly gained the nerve to check it out. All fear had left me, and I was so eager to investigate that I left my room wrapped only in a towel. I walked over to room 214 before I remembered I'd left the key in my room. Then I noticed that the room was slighlty ajar.
My mind wandered for an instant. I thought perhaps the manager had set up cameras in the room for his amusement. Maybe he was hoping the room's kinky reputation would get the better of me, and I would give in to masturbation once inside, for his visual enjoyment. I can't say that thought had not crossed my mind, and standing in front of the door now, I was a little nervous of what this room was capable of.
Only one way to find out.
I pushed open the door and was treated to a rush of warm air, intensely comforting. That pervert had been in there! He must have. Why else would he pre-heat this room except to provide a comfortable atmosphere for a girl with a curious itch? I didn't know whether to curse him or thank him, because the warmth was immediatetly taking its toll. And the rush continued, soothing my face and blowing up my towel.
I was suddenly reminded of times when I was home alone after a shower, crouching in front of the heater vents and letting the air blow up through my towel. Those sensations were so real to me now I could almost smell my mother's carpet freshener. The scent was coming from the room, a pleasant potpourri.
I threw the door wide open to the dark room, and the pleasant onslaught of warmth continued. I invited it completely, spreading myself in the doorway, legs apart. My towel balooned outward from the gust, giving the blissful air full access to me. The now torrid breeze lost no intensity as it brushed my pubic hair, rolled over my stomach, and cascaded over my nipples. I shuddered and sighed, being teased with a patience no boy had ever given me.
As I stretched my arms up to grab the doorframe, the feelings grew stronger, as if countless fingers were now exploring my flesh. I must be hallucinating, I thought. Then my eyes opened wide as these imaginary fingers found their way across my rib cage. I gasped as I was suddenly tickled by this sentient breeze. A giddy smile stretched across my face as I quickly looked back and forth down the hall to make sure I wasn't being spied upon. This wasn't the hotel manager's doing, I was being handed a full invitation to the legendary room.
While I decided whether to venture futher or not, the hot breeze continued to tease me with its almost tangible appendages. And the tickling persisted, my armpits, my stomach, my thighs. I was cackling in ecstasy, whipping my short hair around like a cheerleader's pom-pom. Then the sweet tickling wind took matters a step further, between my legs. All was brushed aside to expose my stiffened clitoris.
"Oh, no you don't," I giggled out loud.
But it did. Oh, it most definitely did. The absolute tip of my most sensitive spot was being rapidly flicked up and down by what felt like a pointed tongue. The bliss was maddening. I wanted to step away and protect myself from the almost unbearable enticement, but my body insisted on my staying, my hips thrusting as the invisible pervert had its way with me. I grunted and groaned like a whore. I bit my lip as the sweet moment gave its first hintful tingle. I was about to orgasm harder than I had ever dreamed, and not a hand had been laid upon me.
Then I noticed my towel being untied from under my arm. The fabric slid open, revealing my thrusting buttocks to anyone who might walk by. I suddenly realized the display I must be making, a prominent highschool senior humping the air like a slut with only a towel hanging on her large, proud bossom. I arched my back in both passion and a feeble attempt to keep my towel in place. But the towel began to fall. No, it was being pulled down ever so slightly. It wasn't enough that this room was treated to every inch of my flesh, but it wanted me completely naked. I was almost doubled over backwards, when the towel finally lost its sweet grip on my wet nipples. I finally convinced my arms to grab it and cover myself. I fell backwards into the hall and brushed the bangs out of my eyes.
The room was still open, still inviting. My legs shook from the impending climax I was suddenly denied. There was no doubt I was at the point of no return. I could either go back to my room and finish myself off like a good girl, or I could surrender my body to the merciless perversions of this room 214.
It took me less than a heartbeat to decide. I hadn't even passed the threshold of the room before, and it proved itself capable of pleasuring me. I couldn't even imagine what would be in store inside. I couldn't just enter something of so much power; I had to offer myself.
"What are you going to do to me?" I asked the room rhetorically. I expected no answer, and was given none. I would just have to find out for myself.
I stood up and looked up and down the hall one last time to avoid any spying eyes. Then I cast aside my towel. The suddenly helpless feeling I had brought forth a girlish giggle.
I took the last few steps inside and closed the door behind me. This fantastic room was going to enjoy me. And I was going to enjoy being enjoyed!
-To be continued...
