Holly’s First Night Ch. 02

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This is the second part the story of how I became what I am; my autobiography. It may help to read Holly’s First Night first, and if you wish to make a comment please do.



As we came out of the bathroom Zoe and I were wearing matching dressing gowns with the hotel logo on. There was a tray of sandwiches on the table, all traces of the coke were gone.

It was clear that our services were not going to be required again tonight as we made small talk, well Kwaze did most of the talking, we laughed politely at his jokes, made oohing sounds as he told us of his exploits on safari, and boasted of his father’s power and influence in the government of his home country. At about four o’clock he stood, took Zoe’s hand and led her to a bedroom, saying goodnight.

I looked at Jamal, he smiled and did the same, taking me to his room. The bed was bigger than king size, I watched him as he climbed between the sheets, suddenly feeling shy about undressing in front of him. He was a real gentleman, because he held the quilt open for me and switched the lights off. I shed the gown, then climbed into the bed beside him, laying my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

The bed was empty when I awoke, the weak winter sunlight visible as a faint outline where the drapes were. I went into the bathroom to relieve the pressure in my bladder and then, putting on the robe I had left on the floor by the bed, went through to the main part of the suite. Zoe was there, dressed in a simple, but very flattering black roll neck top and pair of tight jeans with some Nike Air trainers. She looked up as she heard me enter the room.

“Hey Holl, sleep well?” she asked, putting the glass orange of juice she’d been drinking, down.

“Ungh,” I stifled a yawn and nodded, “where are the guys?”

“Oh, they left an hour or so ago. Here, have some juice, or coffee.” She gestured at the table, there was now a small tray covering the place where…we’d snorted coke last night.

I looked at her.

We’d had sex last night.

I’d had sex with a man and her at the same time last night.

She’d let two men fuck her in front of my eyes last night.

She’d ground herself against my face last night.

She’d made me cum more often than I’d thought possible last night.

We’d taken (a lot of) money from two strangers for sex last night.

I flopped onto the white sofa beside her, the sofa that had been the site of all that sex.

“Zoe, did we…?” Suddenly I was feeling unclean, dirty somehow.

She looked at me with those big black-brown eyes, but said nothing. I could feel tears starting to well up as my chest tightened. She reached out to hold my hand and I began to sob.

She gathered me to her, comforting me as the tears wracked my body.

How could I have been so stupid? This wasn’t a one night stand, it was me prostituting myself, selling myself like a hooker. Would I end up on street corners, soiled, addicted to drugs and riddled with the clap?

I felt so ashamed of myself, and resentful of Zoe; after all, she’d gotten me into this mess.

“Look Holly, I think we should go home, don’t you?” she suggested.

I nodded dumbly, sniffing back some snot before pulling away from her.

“How do you do it?” I asked her.

Shrugging her shoulders, she looked me in the eye,

“Do what?”

“Don’t mess with me you bitch; last night, you, me, those two men!” My internal shame was turning into self-righteous anger. We’d done things together I’d never imagined, or rather, had only ever imagined.

“Have you any idea how much you earned last night?” she asked simply, adding “That’s how I deal with it.”

“Don’t play with me.” I snapped. She stared at me. “You, or…or someone thought you could turn me into a…a whore!”

“Shhh! Keep your voice down Holly.” She leant close in to me and took both my hands in hers. I could see it in her eyes as she stared me down; an unfamiliar hardness to her that I had never witnessed before.

“How do you do it?” I asked, snatching my hands away and standing up.

“I tell myself it’s a business transaction; one contract at a time. I have a goal, one I’ve nearly reached in just eighteen months, then I can stop. I’ll have enough to buy a house, I won’t have any debts, and I aim to have no regrets.”

“A few days ago you accused me of thinking you were a prostitute, for fucks sake, you gave me a hard time over it,” I waved at the tray, “you, you even said you didn’t do fucking breakfast!”

I needed to get away from here, away from Zoe, to think. I left her sat there, as I left I heard her say something I knew was true.

“Nobody made you go and see Alexandra, did they? Nobody made you come and join me, did they? You came because you were curious to see if you could do it. And you did. Very enthusiastically didn’t you?”

I stepped into the shower, needing to cleanse myself of the giresun escort degrading sense of filth I could feel on my skin. As the water sprayed over me, I soaped myself, imagining it was washing away the shit of last night, purifying myself in a ritual.

As I dried off I thought about what I should wear and realised that all I had was last night’s clothes: the slightly too small black dress, lacy matching lingerie and a flimsy bolero jacket.

Looking at myself in the mirror I realised I hadn’t even brought out much more make-up than I could fit in my clutch bag. Zoe on the other hand, that oh so professional tart and former best friend, the deceitful cow, Zoe had clearly thought to bring a change of clothes, and even shoes, the bitch. No wonder I’d never caught her doing the walk of shame; the whore didn’t have any.

I finished dressing, and with a confidence I didn’t feel, walked back into the main room of the suite. I was about to ask Zoe to call me a taxi so I could go to my flat, to our flat. She stood, lithe and elegant as she always did, her African ancestry shining through every dignified movement, no wonder I’d thought of her as a queen last night.

“Holly, I know it’s difficult, hun. Please can we start again?”

“I don’t know Zo, everything’s changed, it’s all different, I’m different, we’re different. Perhaps you should just call me a cab so I can go home.”

“Okay, you’re a cab.” she said, with that oh so beautiful grin.

“That’s not even funny Zoe.” I think that hurt her because her smile was suddenly gone, extinguishing the humour in her eyes.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with her, I wasn’t too sure I wanted her telling me that I had chosen to whore myself out even if, technically, she was right.

“No, thanks, I don’t want anything to eat.” I was stood at the foot of the stairs when she came and took my hand again.

“Holly, this will work itself out, you just need a bit of time.” I snatched my hand away and ran up the stairs to my room, flung the door open and threw myself on the bed as a temper tantrum surged through me. They were all a bunch of shits, every effing one of them, playing with peoples emotions and thoughts just to manipulate something way out in the future. Tears of anger were replaced by tears of self-pity as I thought through the recent days, trying to make some sense of my role and responsibility for everything that had happened.

‘Nobody made you go and see Alexandra, did they? Nobody made you come and join me, did they? You came because you were curious.’ Zoe’s words chased their way through my head, every time I thought I could slap them down they just got right up again ‘…because you were curious.’ because I wanted some of her glamour and poise and outright happiness.

Nobody could call it whoring I told myself, just a girl living life to the full, right? But you were going to take money, take a ‘gift’. Yeah but that’s different isn’t it? Guy takes you out for a nice meal he probably expects something in return, that’s why you dress up, to look good, to do him proud, let his peers see he can pull a girl. I was beginning to lose myself in my amateur psychoanalysis when there was a gentle tap on the door.

“Go away,” I shouted “leave me alone”

“Holly,” Zoe’s head appeared around the edge of the still open door, “Holly I’ve made you some sandwiches, can I come in?”

She didn’t wait for a response but came in anyway holding a small plate of sandwiches and two mugs of something, tea probably. She placed the plate and a mug on the bedside table then, holding her own mug she sat at the foot of the bed. I kind of pulled my knees up to my chest and leant against the headboard, trying to keep as much distance as I could between us.

“Thanks.” I said as the feeling of hunger stole into my stomach. There was nothing delicate about the thick slices of white bread encasing even thicker slices of ham. As I bit into one there was a subtle tang of horseradish, just as I liked it.

“You know Holly, you’ve had a tough time over the last day or two,” she said “but life goes on, you need to unwind a bit”

I looked at her, at the sincerity in her eyes.

“Look, why don’t I give your shoulders a rub, ease the tension out?” she asked, “come on, I won’t bite, move down here a bit.”

The thought did sound good to me so I placed the plate on the bedside table again and shuffled down the bed, turning round to face the bedhead, and sat cross-legged as she put a scrunchie in my hair, making a pony tail.

“Wait a moment,” she said, walking out and into her own room. When she came back out she had a couple of white towels and a bottle of jasmine scented oil from the shelf in there.

“May as well do it properly.” she smiled placing the towels next to me.

I felt the bed move as she knelt behind me and her hands were cool on my shoulders as she rested them either side of my neck. Her movements began gently enough, yalova escort but she soon had both thumbs drilling into the space between my shoulder blades, the pain almost pleasurable as knot after knot seemed to crack under her ministrations. She’d been right, I had had no idea just how tense I was.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations, on her thumbs alternately circling around my shoulder muscles before finding and drilling into more taut muscles, on my skin warming beneath her touch, on the little burst of warm breath on my shoulders when she put extra effort into a particularly unyielding muscle.

“Why don’t you take your top off and lie on your stomach, and I’ll give you a proper back rub?” she asked.

The suggestion seemed right and she got up off the bed to spread the big towel out like a sheet. I peeled my vest top off, but left my bra in place before lying face down on the towel.

“Now just try and relax.” was all she said.

I felt her climb back on the bed, straddling my hips. Her hands went to the small of my back before stroking up the length of my spine to the nape of my neck, out across my shoulders then down my sides continuously in a pair of elongated ovals.

She did this five or six times then said

“If you let me unsnap your bra I can use a little oil, it’ll feel much better.” I mumbled my assent, already feeling the tension easing exponentially.

There was a pause as she unhooked my bra, moving the straps away from my shoulders and back. I heard the spout on the lid of the bottle being snapped open, her hands rubbing together as she warmed the oil, then her softness, repeating the motion from earlier but oh so much more smoothly.

I’d never had a massage before but I made a mental note to make it a regular item on my calendar. The sensations were exquisite, heightened I suppose by the scent of the oil and I found myself wondering whether Zoe would do something. Right now that seemed to be a very pleasant thought as her hands brushed the sides of my breasts.

She shuffled down the bed a little further and seemed to rise up on her knees, allowing her to put more weight on her arms as she continued to massage me. Occasionally I felt her rub across the top of my buttocks. I could hear my breath and my heart beating as I lay there, becoming more and more relaxed.

I woke in semi-darkness, a towel draped over me. Zoe had gone, taking the half eaten sandwich and the mugs of tea with her. For the first time in ages I felt relaxed, refreshed, replenished, rejuvenated…whatever, it felt good to be alive here and now. I rolled off the bed, untangling myself from my bra and drew the drapes.

I wondered where she was.

Should I?

I wondered; it was a form of acceptance, coming to terms with what I might do in the future. And of silencing, at least temporarily, that little worm that took me to the hotel last night.

With my decision made I went into the shower room, I didn’t take long, this couldn’t wait. After making sure I was clean and tidy I put on my pyjama bottoms and a crop top, covered by my not really silk dressing gown and left my room, heading for Zoe’s.

She was asleep in her bed. Her room was much tidier than mine, she’d mastered the art of putting things away neatly. I slipped into the room, tiptoeing as quietly as I could to the far side of her bed before shedding the dressing gown and sliding into the bed beside her. She stirred for a moment then turned on her side, facing away from me. I crept closer, spooning into the warmth of her body.

She had on a white cotton tee-shirt night-dress which kind of surprised me for some reason. I thought she seemed smaller now she was relaxed. Lying quietly against her, I draped my arm over the quilt covering her body. I was drifting off into that twilight world of semi sleep when she spoke.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said, “I’m glad you did though.”

We lay there, companionably, she took my hand in hers and drew it under the covers, our fingers interlaced. I kissed her shoulder. She half turned to look at me.

“Do you really want to do this?” she asked.

I could only nod. She shifted her weight to roll over facing me properly, that half smile playing over her lips. Her eyes looked deeply into mine, searching for confirmation of my assent. I touched my lips against hers, the slightest brush, nothing more, but enough to remove the doubt.

She raised herself on one elbow and stroked the hair away from my ear before leaning down and kissing me fully on the lips. Her tongue lashed over mine. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with need as I placed a hand behind her neck. She broke the kiss suddenly, pulling away, and I could hear our passion coming in big gulps of air.

Somehow she managed to have her hands on both my breasts, rubbing the nipples into firm nubbins of pleasure as she moved south. Soon her tongue was licking the upper valley of yozgat escort my boobs, then, oh my god, she took a nipple in her mouth, somehow suckling and nibbling at it through the thin material of my top. When she bit it hard with her teeth both my girls responded, stiffening into rigid little up-stands.

Looking into my eyes she placed her right hand on my thigh, the electric sparkle caused me to gasp as her hand cupped my sex through the thick material of the pyjama bottoms. I suddenly felt scared about what was so clearly going to happen, but my body betrayed me as she gently stroked the cleft between my legs. I closed my eyes and let out a silent sigh. I felt like a rabbit must at night when it freezes instinctively in the middle of the road to avoid the car that’s going to hit it.

My hands folded themselves across my chest as Zoe became more firm in her ministrations, sending those happy little jolts you get when you play with yourself. My legs inched apart without conscious thought or effort from me as she pressed a finger into the cleft of my pudenda. I brushed the hair away from my forehead as my heart-rate started to increase and my breath shallowed out.

She removed her hand momentarily to slip it under the waistband of my pyjamas, the touch of skin on skin causing me to gasp as she moistened her fingers in the wetness that was oh so obviously coating my nether lips. In contrast I had to keep licking my lips as they dried out out due to my increasingly rapid breathing. I could feel my nipples crinkling up even more tightly and standing out against my crop top.

She moved in closer, nuzzling my bare shoulder and I felt the overwhelming urge, the need to pleasure her as she was pleasuring me. I placed my right hand on her pussy; her night-dress had ridden up and there was her smooth flesh against my finger tips. As she stroked my clit I resolved to mirror her actions by doing the same. My index finger sought out the sensitive little bead of flesh that I knew would thrill her as she was thrilling me.

Hearing her moan increased my own arousal and my hips started to rise and fall, she pressed harder against me and suddenly a small orgasm was followed by a series of big ones that washed through me. I grasped the duvet in my free hand as that blast of pleasure made me forget what I was doing to her. She rolled closer, trapping my hand between her thighs, squeezing it as I rode my cum.

Zoe took pity on me at that point I think, she lay beside me and cradled my head on her chest as I slowly came down, every so often little aftershocks would rush through me, each trailing a slowly decreasing level of pleasure. I’d never experienced anything like it, even when I’d tried that coke with Zoe, whatever Zoe had done to me I wanted more. She gently stroked my perspiration dampened hair tenderly as we lay there.

Eventually I started to breathe again, panting and seeking her lips. We kissed passionately as she drew her hand from my pussy, when we broke the kiss she wiped her fingers across her lips, coating them with my juices so I could smell myself on them which made me even more excited as we kissed, more gently this time, once again.

Now she was kneading my breast again, chafing her thumbnail over my nipples through the material of the crop top.

I realised I was seriously overdressed for this as she rolled into the dominant position. She sort of scrambled to her knees and pulled the duvet away, her soft lips on mine, she put her hand back on my pussy again, stroking me with the whole palm of her hand, as my legs parted automatically. Pausing, she knelt back onto her heels, pulling me upright into a sitting position and pulling my crop-top off, over my head. Her boobs were right in front of me as I placed my head against them, the soft mounds inviting pillows. I grasped the hem of her night-dress, raising it up to give me access.

This was my chance to see her; toned arms, firm high breasts, the gold stars replaced by little bars, the flash of silver from the spangle in her hard flat belly, her slim hips flaring from the waist. Little details; a mole in the valley between her breasts almost impossible to see against her chocolate smooth skin, the little crows feet at the side of her eyes that hinted at a readiness to smile.

There it was at eye level; a hard, dark brown nipple, surrounded by a slightly lighter aureole, just begging to be suckled. I licked at it with the tip of my tongue eliciting a small shudder from Zoe, then I took it between my lips, sucking it into my mouth. That got me a moan of pleasure from her. I ran my tongue over the metal bar.

“Yes.” she gasped as I scraped my teeth over the puckered hard flesh of her teat.

I looked up into her half closed eyes as I nibbled, sucked and teased both of her nipples. She held my head against her tits, small moans encouraging me to be more forceful in my attentions, her breathing causing her breasts to rise and fall in a wonderfully sexy way. I rose up to kiss her once again, our breasts crushing together in passion, her hard nipples prominent against my skin.

My hips were moving of their own volition, trying to get that little extra stimulation I was beginning to desperately need to cum again, but she continued to keep me on the edge for I don’t know how long.

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