Go to reception
From Create Your Own Story
(Created page with 'You reach for the remote and turn on the TV. A quick surf through the channels reveals nothing more than just the usual crap. You pause to catch up with the news, just in case yo…') |
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You: | You: | ||
| - | *[[Go | + | *[[Go to get something to eat]] |
*[[Jump the counter and push her into the back office]] | *[[Jump the counter and push her into the back office]] | ||
*[[Steal the van]] | *[[Steal the van]] | ||
Current revision as of 11:57, 4 February 2019
You reach for the remote and turn on the TV. A quick surf through the channels reveals nothing more than just the usual crap. You pause to catch up with the news, just in case your parents have reported you missing. There's no man-hunt reported. It's a little soon for that though. You're about to switch off when the weather report comes on. You watch, not because you're interested in the weather, but because the presenter is fit. Three minutes of titillation later you yawn and get up.
You have a quick shower, dress in the same clothes as earlier (well, you'd barely warn them!), and make your way to reception.
As you walk into the cramped room Sandy is serving a middle-aged man with ragged facial hair and clothes to match. The threadbare carpet and flaky yellowing paint that surround you really doesn't do much to give an impression of quality. She turns to get a key from the safe without acknowledging you. You once again admire her figure and round ass. A scratching of rough stubble draws your attention to the guest. He's also admiring her. You smile smugly. He can only imagine what lies beneath that cheap, tight-fitting uniform. You have it freshly etched into your memory.
Sandy turns to hand the key over as notices you. A flush of pink runs through her cheeks as she's momentarily distracted from her job. Tucking an errant curl of hair behind her ear, she focuses on the man and smiles. "Here you are, Mr. Baites, number 12. Out of the door, turn left, and up the stairs."
"Thank you," he says in a broad Texan accent before winking at her and leaving.
Sandy waits for him to be out of earshot, then wrinkles her nose and goes, "Yuck!"
"I hope you don't do that when I leave the room," you say.
"Never." Her smile is sweet and genuine, her eyelashes flutter as she speaks. "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn't wait to see you," you say, leaning across the counter and kissing her softly on the lips.
"It's a good job my boss is on lunch. She'll be back in 10 minutes to cover for me when I go for mine. You'd better not stick around."
You:
