I'd been flat out for eight or nine months and I was beat. When a chance came for a week up on the Gold Coast I jumped at it. I left as early as I could on the Friday evening, driving through the night and most of Saturday, arriving at the Gold Coast in the middle of the afternoon.
It was a blistering hot day when I pulled into my motel. I was sweating like a pig, tired, hungry and thirsty. It was my intention to find my room, have a shower, eat, and retire early, knowing I'd be able to wake early the next day for the first day of a restful week.
I checked in and was handed my key.
"Go out that way and it's the third door on the right," the receptionist told me.
I nodded my thanks and went out that way and turned right, counting the doors. Just as I reached the third door it opened and a maid stepped out, lugging a vacuum cleaner with her. I politely held the door for her, nodded at her thanks, and closed the door behind me.
I didn't bother unpacking. Hot, sweaty, and smelly, I needed that shower. I just dumped my suitcase on the table and headed for the bathroom, stripping as I went. I wasn't wearing much and I was naked by the time I hit the bathroom door, walking right on in.
When I entered the bathroom I was surprised, but not shocked, to find someone in the shower. It's an old scam for beach bums and students temporarily short of the ready. You hang around a motel until you see room service going into one of the rooms. You enter at the same time as though you're the guy renting the room. Room service aren't going to check your ID. If you wave at them to just keep going they're happy to do so at it means one less interruption. Meanwhile you take a quick shower and then you're out of there. No harm done.
I assumed that this was a guy doing the same thing and I flipped open the shower door to tell him to get dried and get out. It wasn't a guy. It was a lovely young blonde woman and she was really something. That really pale hair and bright blue eyes. She had cherry red lips and a bright red face as she stared at me. She was too surprised to even cover up, not that her hands would have been able to hide breasts like that. She was gorgeous.
It was immediately plain to me that I wasn't quite as beat as I thought. It also came plain to her, because she looked down and her flush change to a white face so fast I thought she was going to faint. Surprising really. I was nicely endowed, but I wasn't that large.
She just stood there, everything on display, pointing at me and stuttering, apparently not knowing what to say. I did.
"Hey, don't get knickers in a knot," I told her. "I'm just having a shower. I'm not going to jump you right here and now. We can make with the bed buddies after we're cleaned up."
She found her voice at that stage.
"Are you nuts? Get out of my room. You can't just barge in here like this. I'll report you. Just get out."
"Whose room?" I asked cynically. "I can just see you going to the receptionist and complaining about being interrupted during your free shower. They'll just bounce you out on your pretty little bottom. No need to panic, though. If you don't want to be bed buddies I'm not going to force you. Be a pity though. These are delicious."
The 'these' I referred to were her breasts. I made sure she knew this by touching a nipple lightly, pleased at the way it promptly responded.
"Just get out of my room, and I mean MY room," she snapped. "We've been staying here for a week. My father will kill you if you're still here when he gets back."
"Father?" I asked. Staying here with her father? I'd thought she was around nineteen, probably twenty, and a twenty year old probably wouldn't be going on a holiday with her father. So either she was running a good bluff or there was a mix up in the rooms. How old was she, anyway.
"Ah, just how old are you?" I asked, running my eyes over her delectable body.
"Eighteen," she said and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Almost," she added and there was a real "Oh, Shit," moment.
My magnificent erection drooped with the shock of it. What was worse was she saw it droop and giggled.
"What do you mean, almost?"
"I mean I'm nearly eighteen. Another few days and it's my birthday."
Bloody hell. I was back in the main room fast and dressing in my old clothes, not taking the time dry or to get out clean clothes. She came waltzing out of the bathroom while I was scrambling into my clothes, wearing a towel, a smile, and a smug look.
"Have you checked your key yet?" she asked.
"You're implying that I might have made a mistake?" I asked, almost snarling at her. "Third door on the right I was told and this is it."
She picked up my key from the table and looked at it.
"One out," she observed. "You're next door. That's the third door on the right." She jerked her thumb back towards the reception area.
What the hell? I'd counted them. One, two, three. How can you miss a complete door?
"Did you count the reception door as number one?" she asked, blandly looking towards the ceiling, a great smirk on her face.
I bloody hadn't. Why would I? I'd stepped out and counted out three doors without even bothering to look at the numbers. Idiot.
I grabbed my case and my key, politely apologised for intruding, and left, heading towards my own room. It did nothing for my ego to hear her giggling as I left. Really, had the girl no modesty? She'd been the one caught naked. She should have been blushing and embarrassed, not giggling her head off.
I got my good night's sleep and woke up feeling refreshed and ready to face my holiday with enthusiasm. I had some breakfast and stepped out, ready to take on the world.
It's amazing the irritant effect some people can have on you. I was just walking towards the reception area to pick up some brochures about the area when I heard a girl singing. Do you know the ABBA song, Dancing Queen? There's a line in it that goes 'Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen'. Whoever was singing started on that line. Not at the start of the song. On that line. I knew damn well who was singing it.
I rose above such a petty annoyance and headed on out. For the next few days I had a good time. I knew some people in the area and I hooked up with them for a while and also visited the tourist traps and the beach, doing my share of flirting with the beach bunnies.
I have to admit that I saw the young lady from the next room several times. She always seemed to have a subtle dig ready. Actually, I don't suppose you can say that looking pointedly at my groin and then lifting her eyebrows a couple of time is exactly subtle.
And again, walking toward me with arm upright, bent at the elbow, fist clenched. She saw me, put on an exaggerated look of shock, her fist unclenched and her arm drooped limply back to her side. She passed me, giggling her fool head off.
