One ending that’s not (or maybe is sort of) to be….

The hotel doesn’t have a pool.

We have the room til 7. I have a call that I need to take – and for which I need privacy – from 5:30-6:20 or so. I had thought that I simply would leave at 5:15, and go take the call somewhere private elsewhere – and leave the two lovely ladies to have some time just the two of them.

But then, I had a brilliant brainstorm: Sarah and Charlotte could put on their bathing suits, and go to the pool! They could frolic together, and return to me, wet. We could spend a final 20-40 minutes feasting on one another. We (they) would lose the opportunity for them to have some together sexual time. But we would gain an extra few minutes of me enjoying their company. And, if you’re me, me > them.

Alas, the hotel doesn’t have a pool….

So. Plan B.

The two ladies will go downstairs and have a drink while I have my call. This, actually, though less visually hot actually is much hotter in totality. They will be talking. About the hours we’ve just spent together. About one another’s tongues. Clits. Tits. About my mouth. Fingers. Cock. That will be a fun conversation at the bar. For them. And for anyone who might overhear. (And, for me, during my call.)

I’m not sure if this is better or worse than my original idea. There are definitely advantages to each. And, certainly, I will decide what to do in the moment.


Either way.

They will bring their bathing suits. Or, if not bathing suits, panties and t-shirts. Because the room does have a shower.

(And, there’s nothing to stop them from continuing to play elsewhere after I leave….)

These two ladies forgot their bathing suits. Shame on them!

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