“It’s nice to meet you, Caitlin,” Jess says, smiling at me, “Officially.”
My pussy throbs lightly as I think about how less than 12 hours ago, I was listening through the wall as this woman rode her husband to orgasm. While I masturbated. And encouraged her.
“Honestly,” I say, “I can’t believe this is happening. But I’m glad.”
Jess nods, “I know. The odds right?”
A pool service boy, in khakis shorts and a white button up t-shirt, stops at the foot of our chairs. “Room 711?” Jess nods toward the little side table between our chairs. He steps between us and sets down two mimosas, a plate of fries, and a plate of fruit. “Enjoy. Please let us know if there’s anything else you need, or anything else we can do to improve your morning.”
I snicker to myself hearing those words.
“Thanks. Will do,” Jess replies, as the young guy walks away. She turns to look at me, tilting her head curiously, “What’s so funny?”
I’m imagining the guy who delivered my breakfast, wondering if his erection has subsided. “God, I should be embarrassed to even tell you this,” I say.