Chapter 02 - Mini Skirt Girl
It started pretty much by accident. Walt was sitting on the bench with his wife, Rhonda. They were enjoying the quiet evening, the weather was still warm, and the grounds of the hotel complex were so wonderful, you could just sit outside and enjoy it. It was around seven in the evening, and they were talking and sharing each other's company. Rhonda had to leave soon; she had packed, and they were spending their last hour or so relaxing before she headed for the airport. Walt would drive her there in the rental car, drop it off (he's have no need for it for the next few days) and grab a hotel shuttle back. Her flight was at nine-thirty.
They had been at the hotel two nights already. They'd arrived early Thursday, creating a mini-vacation around Walt's business meetings that would start the next day. They'd spent their time just being together, relaxing, and having great vacation sex. When they were away from home Rhonda just seemed more relaxed, more open, and her desires tended to rise, to be more compatible with Walt's. She'd even teased him about having sex with another man, a fantasy that had fueled their passion, talking about it while fucking, and when she sucked his cock. At the pool, and at the bar, she'd starting pointing out women to him, asking him he'd like to fuck any of them, describing their attributes, teasing him to horniness that made their sex hotter, more frantic, more urgent. But tomorrow was work for him, and home for her, and they were just enjoying the last of their time together.
Being a Saturday night, there were plenty of affairs scheduled at the hotel, and Walt knew that there were others, like him, who had used the business trip to take a few days before or after as personal time. Many people, from other companies as well as the vendors they worked with and the organization that arranged the meetings, took advantage of the opportunity to spend an extra night or two away.
What Walt didn't expect was to see someone he knew from prior meeting. So they were sitting on the bench, talking, watching the comings and goings of hotel guests, commenting on the notable ones. It was no surprise to see a young woman in a miniskirt emerge from the wing of the hotel, headed for the main building where the bars and clubs were. What he saw approaching was one girl in a miniskirt and two others in slightly longer dresses, club clothes, likely on their way to a night of fun, and he tried to divert his eyes, trying not to let Rhonda see him looking at them. He tried to talk to Rhonda, distracting her and himself from the view of the three hotties as they approached, chatting with each other animatedly, as young women do.
"What time do you land," he asked her.
"After midnight," she answered, "I'll text you when I land, and then when I'm back at the house."
"Hi, Walt," he heard before he could answer. He turned to the voice, and it was the miniskirt girl. She'd stopped in front of them. He looked at her, tried to place her face, but felt like he was seeing it for the first time, and struggled not to look at her long, slim legs stretching out beneath her skirt. The face was familiar. He struggled for a name, then found it.
"Vanessa?"
"Good, you remember!"
The sight of her made him uncomfortable to be talking to her in front of Rhonda. She worked for the organization that had arranged the convention, and he knew her slightly from past events. But he'd never seen her like this before. He only knew her in jeans and a loose company polo shirt, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. His imagination went into overdrive as he drank in her appearance and tried to form words.
"Yes, of course, but I almost didn't recognize you, you know, dressed. Dressed up." He swallowed. "You look nice." She was wearing a white spaghetti strap top that allowed some cleavage to peek out between her firm young breasts, with a black miniskirt that, while sitting, was almost at eye level, raised by strappy sandals with a four-inch heel. Her hair was done up, and she wore makeup that changed her pretty face to strikingly beautiful.
"Well, thanks," she said. "My friends and I are going to a Company event, a party before the real work starts tomorrow." She motioned with her hands. "This is Rachel, and that's Brenda."
"Oh, hi," he managed. "Nice to meet you." He heard a sound next to him, felt a squeeze on his arm. "Oh, sorry, Vanessa, this is my wife, Rhonda."
"Oh, hi," she chirped.
"Hi," Rhonda said, with a friendly tone, "I thought for a second there that he might forget I was here."
Vanessa laughed. "Are you staying? The weather's been great."
"Actually, no, I'm flying home tonight," Rhonda told her, "on a late flight, but we've been here for a few days already." Walt's eyes wandered over Vanessa slyly as she and Rhonda conversed. He was very conscious of Rhonda at his side, as she pulled his arm closer while she talked. "It was great, it was the first time we did this, coming down early and taking a few days together."
"It's too bad you're leaving, you could come to the party."
"I thought it was a company thing," Walt asked, trying not to sound like he was ogling. "For employees."
"Yeah, but everyone brings friends, it's okay."
"Sorry, but I have to bring Rhonda to the airport soon."
"Maybe you could come at the end."
"I'll be back around ten, I think," he told her, and felt a squeeze on his arm. Was he in trouble?
"Oh, it ends at ten," she said, frowning. "They don't want everyone up too late and tired and hung over when the work starts!" Her face brightened. "But if you get back early, stop by. At least you can get a free drink!" She turned to Rhonda. "It was nice meeting you."
