Seducing the Neighbor Ch. 11

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The Miami Sands Resort and Spa was a low-rise, two-floor, sprawling beach resort, complete with rattan furniture, lazily-rotating ceiling fans, leafy palm trees and a balmy stretch of beach. With one large and one small swimming pool, plus sauna, steam bath, jacuzzi, gym, spa, restaurant and buffet facilities, it looked like a relaxing getaway for the younger crowd, rather than the sixty-something, retired, conservative golf club set that usually populated places like Palm Beach.

I had seen the brochures, so had an idea what to expect when our four long-distance buses rolled up, the heavy wheels crunching on the circular gravel driveway of the property. An elegant fountain featured in the island in the middle of the driveway area, plus what looked like some rather nice tropical gardens out front.

The sun was setting as we arrived, and brilliant hues of orange, pink and red were painted on the sky like an artist’s summer watercolor. We heard the air brakes hiss as the pneumatic doors opened. There was a general hubbub of noise as people stood up, stretched their legs, groaned, then started opening lockers to get their baggage.

Presently, hordes of tired yet still beautiful people alighted from the lumbering vehicles and made their way through some double doors into a wide, cool, subtly-lit reception area.

The four tour guides from the different buses began yelling out orders and instructions, and the next half-hour was spent checking-in, with people milling around checking cellphones, calling family, bags and suitcases dotted around the area, receptionists busy with documents and papers, security guards barking orders into two-way radios, and all the usual stuff that happens when over a hundred people suddenly descend on a single location all that the same time.

Finally, the tour guides got us all quiet and paying attention, and told us the rules of the resort, health and safety regulations, then the times of various events. Dinner tonight was at eight, then a cocktail reception immediately after until twelve, then the nightclub would be open until 2am. Cocktails in the bar until midnight, the pool would close at 9pm but the beach was open all hours. Great.

I trudged my way to my hotel room with the room card. I was on the ground floor. Daniel was next to me (thanks, Jo!) but the three other women were upstairs at the end of the corridor because Jo wanted all the judges to be together.

“Well, we made it,” smirked Daniel, carrying his bags and one of mine.

“Thank goodness,” I remarked. “I’m beat. The first thing I’m gonna do is take a long shower.”

“Are you going to dinner?”

“Sure. I’m starving!”

“I’ll meet you there if you want. Eight o-clock?”

“Yeah — er, no. Let’s do 8:45. I think I’d like to lie down for a bit — no need to rush, eh?”

“Sure, no problem. I would be happy to wait.” Daniel squeezed my arm reassuringly. “See you later.”

I smiled. “Yeah. I’m looking forward to it.” With that, I watched Daniel enter his room next along the corridor, then brushed my card against the electronic lock to enter.

I found myself in a cool, air-conditioned room with a double bed, en-suite bathroom, flat-screen TV on a counter, with tea, coffee, a hairdryer, various condiments, an armchair, nightstand and floor-to-ceiling drapes at the windows, which also filled one whole wall. Intrigued, I dumped my baggage on the bed and parted the curtains with my hand.

Oh, wow. I saw a private garden area, with a sun lounger, leading to a cute paved pathway going straight to the large swimming pool. Beyond that was the beach and the star-sparkled surface of the Sargasso Sea. Fabulous! Smiling, I turned back inside to investigate the bathroom. Some rather nice beige vitreous tiling greeted me, with shower, bathtub, toilet and a mirror. Cool.

Alrighty, then, I thought. Let’s get comfortable! I spent another half-hour unpacking my stuff — I would need to borrow an iron for some of the gorgeous dresses I had bought for the fashion show — and basically pottered around.

Hmm, it’s 8pm already. I assessed whether hunger or tiredness was more pressing right now. The latter, I think. Stuff the long shower then. I opted for a quick fifteen minutes, then a half-hour lie down before dinner. No, scratch that. Crash now, then shower. My, my! My brain was addled. OK, good idea! Executive decision! I got undressed and lay down on the bed.

I was surprised to find that I nodded off almost immediately. It was a swoonful, power nap, one of those half-hour sessions when you wake up thinking, ‘how long have I been out?’

I checked my watch. 8:40. Bummer, I’m late. I felt a lot better, though — the heaviness had gone from my eyes for now, although I suspected I would need an early night still. No clubbing for me!

Stuff it, Daniel can wait. I swung my long legs off the bed and headed for the shower. After that, I changed into an elegant, brilliant blue evening gown. I planned to go to the cocktail party to mix and mingle, too.

At 9:00pm, I waltzed into the dining bonus veren siteler room area. The management had wisely decided it would be a buffet and among the Doric pillars and frond-like leafy potted plants stood tables of plates and tureens, white-coated staff in chef uniforms behind each one, a small window behind the wall revealing the large kitchens, where yet more chefs looked stressed and busy as they prepared flambe dishes, high flames occasionally making themselves visible through the small aperture.

Pleased with all this, my high-heeled shoes clicked confidently along the flagstone floor as I spotted my handsome hunk sitting at one table. His hair was neatly brushed, a pristine, crisp shirt, unbuttoned at the top covered his broad chest and he wore a lightweight dinner jacket over that, paired with immaculately pressed tight trousers that framed the impressive bulge in his crotch as he stood up to see me. His outfit was completed by some clean, black, leather shoes.

Daniel beamed as I approached. “Wow, you look awesome,” he said.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I responded, happily. Then I remembered. “Oh, I’m sorry I’m late — I overslept! I was out like a light.”

“No problem,” he said. “We’re on vacation, right? I’ve just been soaking up the ambiance.”

“Well,” I said, my stomach rumbling. “Let’s eat something! I’m starved!”

Daniel didn’t need telling twice. We got up, joined the line and loaded up plates full of steaming entrees and delicious side dishes. We sat back down at the table to eat. Later I even got seconds, then still had enough space for dessert. Finally, I downed two long, cool sodas.

“Wow,” remarked Daniel. “You must have been famished. You can put away quite a bit!”

“Yeah, I’ve got quite an appetite! Plus it’s free, right?” I said, my eyes twinkling. “Man, these sodas are great thirst-quenchers. The first one barely touched the sides! I’ve got a terrific thirst!”

Daniel smiled at me, leaning forward across the table. “You’re a woman of strong desires, Cathy,” he said.

Feeling in a good mood, I raised my eyebrows at him. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Very thirsty, with a hunger for experiences and a passion for desire.”

I was a little surprised at the depth of his remark. Thinking about it briefly, I replied. “Hmm. Well, I guess I am.”

“Sure you are. Ever since I met you, you’ve been nothing but a drinker of emotion, an eater of life and a desirer of passion.”

I laughed. “Your poetry is kind of clunky — keep practicing, Shakespeare!” I was surprised to find myself blushing, even though his choice of words wasn’t exactly the flowing lyricism I had dreamed about as a teenage girl.

“No, but it’s true. It’s been great for me, just to see it. You’re a fantastic woman. I admire you.”

“Stop it,” I said, with a small smile.

Daniel smirked. “Seeing you like this is amazing.”

Hmm, yes, I thought. This is his first time seeing me in evening wear.

“I can’t believe I’m dining with a fashion model. It’s like all my teenage dreams have come true.” Daniel thought. “Do you realize that this time last week, I didn’t even know you?”

It was true. Just a mere seven days ago, I had been lamenting my boring Saturday and my lame life. “You’ve been good for me, too, Daniel. Being with you has been so much fun.”

Daniel opened his mouth to speak, but then a loud voice interrupted our conversation. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, EVENING COCKTAILS ARE NOW ON IN THE LOUNGE,” it said.

“Oh, right,” said Daniel. “Are you going?”

I grabbed his hand. “Why not? Take me.”

Daniel stood up at the same time as me and, with his hand, led me away from the table and towards the elegant archway leading to the adjacent lounge.

Music was playing and there was a piano against one wall. Bar staff in bow ties and smart evening wear uniforms walked around and a hubbub of the young and the beautiful milled around.

“Shall we dance?” asked my handsome young man.

“I would be delighted,” I responded.

Daniel held me in the traditional way — one arm around my waist and one hand in mine, but I quickly noticed that he knew nothing about ballroom dancing. I didn’t mind, particularly, because I knew nothing, either. I was happy to be in his arms and we looked in each other’s eyes, speaking sweet nothings in each other’s ears, and enjoying the contact of each other’s bodies.

When the song was over, I decided to grab a drink. Heading over to the bar, I grabbed a glass of red wine. Daniel had a non-alcoholic spritzer.

“Not drinking?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “I’m not much of a drinker — another reason why I don’t want to live in a college dorm. Besides, I thought you might need me sober later.”

I smiled at him seductively. “Is that so?”

“If you behave yourself,” remarked Daniel.

He was learning fast, and his confidence was improving greatly.

“CATHY!” cried a male voice, the sound of which I vaguely recognized. I turned around to see a thin, skinny man, about forty-five, bedava bahis with thin hair, glasses and a business suit standing behind me.

“Oh, hello!” I said, not quite believing this was happening. My eyes widened as a man I hadn’t seen for a long time suddenly reappeared in my life. “Rupert, I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Yeah, I’m working for Fortuna Fashion now,” he said, with a grin. “I got out of the New York scene three years ago — I thought I would come down south for a quieter life.”

“I see,” I said, not exactly thrilled to see him. Then I remembered Daniel. Turning to him, I said, “Er, Daniel, this is Rupert Dalrymple, New York fashion agency executive.”

Daniel, looking a little taken aback, proffered his hand. Rupert shook it, rather limply. “Daniel Colston.”

Rupert fixed his beady eyes on Daniel. “So, what do you do?”

Daniel looked at him firmly. “I work in property management.”

“I see,” said Rupert. “Cathy used to work for me in the Big Apple, and I got her a big start in the modeling world.”

“Aah, well,” I interrupted. “I was already doing moderately well in a small way — mainly catalog.”

“Yeah, and I promised her she could go way further than that — you know, I made a few phone calls, talked to a few people I knew — the next thing she knew, I had booked her a front-row seat at New York Fashion Week.”

I laughed. “Well, huh, Rupert — it was just a normal ticket — I wasn’t on the runway.”

“True,” agreed Rupert. “I had plans to develop Cathy to become a bigger star, but she had her own ideas on how to achieve them.”

I flashed my eyes at him. “I certainly did.”

Rupert looked at the two of us for a few moments. “Well, it’s great seeing you, Cathy — and meeting you, Daniel. Now I must be getting back to my friends.”

“I’m sure,” said Daniel, quietly.

Rupert walked off.

I drained my wine glass and set it down on the bar. “Come on, let’s dance,” I said to him. Grabbing his hand, I pulled him back on the dance-floor, impatiently. We embraced once more and began swaying around the floor.

“Not your favorite person, I gather,” remarked Daniel.

“Definitely not,” I replied.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not now. Keep moving,” I commanded. Daniel did as he was told. Presently, he turned, and I was able to see behind at who else was standing around. Looking through the other dancers, my heart sank.

“Oh, no,” I murmured.

“What?” asked Daniel, his mouth close to my ear.

“There are five of them,” I said.

“Hmm. Do you want to get out of here?”

“Just a sec. Let me watch them for a moment. Keep dancing.” Daniel did so as I eyed up Rupert and his friends. They were laughing and joking and two of them (not Rupert) were a little the worse for wear for drink.

From their body language, they looked like they were sizing up the beautiful models on display, discussing their looks and bodies, and generally acting like a bunch of guys in a cheap dive bar. “Ugh, gross,” I muttered. “Come on, Daniel, I’ve seen enough. Let’s get out of here.”


Daniel broke our embrace, slid his hand around the small of my back and escorted me from the lounge. Determined, I strode up the corridor towards my hotel room, Daniel hurrying behind. In a flash, I produced my hotel room card, swiped, and the door unlocked. “Inside,” I said. We went in. “Close the door.” Daniel did so and the lock clicked into place.

I walked across the room to the floor-to-ceiling window. Sliding it aside through the heavy drapes. “Let’s go outside. It’s private — enough.” Daniel followed me out to the sun loungers, where I sat myself down on one in a huff. Daniel sat on the other one. Around us, we were somewhat hidden by the thick, tropical foliage, except for the pathway leading to the swimming pool. I looked at the greenery surrounding me intensely, then spoke. “The last person I wanted to see here was Rupert,” I began.

“Bad history?” asked Daniel, leaning forward.

“Kind of.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how bad? Really bad?” He looked at me.

I knew what he was thinking. “No, not that bad,” I replied, reassuring him.

Daniel pursed his lips. ‘But bad enough,” he remarked.

“More or less. Well — he didn’t touch me,” I explained. “But he was planning to. That’s why I left his employ.”


I sighed. Why did this have to happen? “This is my first vacation in years, and now look at it.”

Daniel looked at me but said nothing. He waited, attentively.

“Well, look -” I began.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” interrupted Daniel. “If it’s better to leave it until we get home so that it doesn’t ruin your vacation, we can delay this until then.”

I thought about it. Then I remembered the fashion show tomorrow night. I suddenly realized I might need Daniel to be around. “No, it’s OK, I need to fill you in.” So I did.

I told him how I was eighteen when I left home. I had ditched the idea of university about four months before graduating deneme bonus high school, when a chance encounter with a photographer had led to him introducing me to a local talent scout in my hometown.

After I had done a few photo shoots, the scout thought they were good enough to send to some New York contacts. A few weeks had gone by before I had been invited up to New York for an interview and further shoots. My mother had been interested in clothes and fashion, so had encouraged me to try my luck.

Upon arrival in the Big Apple, I had crashed on a friend’s sofa to attend these, and an agency had signed me. I had called my mom to tell her I would be staying in the city for a few months over the summer. I had begun doing some catalog work. Then one model at the agency had fallen sick and I was asked to attend a shoot for one of the big fashion labels. The shoot had been exciting and I really felt then that I was on the up.

That’s when Rupert had shown up. As the shoot ended, the photographer introduced me to Dalrymple and I went to see him in his office elsewhere in the city. At first he had been professional and pleasant, promising me I could work for some big names, but on my third meeting with him about four days’ later, he had basically propositioned me to say that he could guarantee a great career for me if I slept with him.

When I refused, he had then asked for oral sex. When that led to another flat refusal, he then attempted to grab my breasts. However, I had lurched my body away from him, then had turned to him to state in no uncertain terms that I would not work for him. I went straight back to my agency and reported him, but they had been dismissive, saying that these guys were endemic to the industry.

I spoke to some other models, who confirmed that Dalrymple had been ‘in-your-face’ and demanding about sexual favors with other women. He then started putting pressure on my agent to force me to leave the agency. After their already-dismissive attitude, I had decided that my first agency had been a bad choice and had asked around with some other models, to see if they could recommend a better one.

They did so, so I had jumped before being pushed, and, after some leg work and sidewalk-pounding, gained a new signing elsewhere and had progressed from there.

Daniel listened to all this carefully. It felt great to feel his attention. “So did you make it in the end?”

I smiled, ruefully. “I made enough money to be satisfied, but I’m not exactly a supermodel or a household name, am I? I could have got further if it hadn’t been for Dalrymple.”

“Agreed,” Daniel said. “However, in a way, I’m glad you didn’t.”

Surprised, I asked, “Why?”

Daniel gave a small smile. “I would never have met you.”

I smiled back. “I guess so.” Then I felt stressed again. “Yet what am I going to do now? He’s here. He might try something.”

“Do you think he would?”

“Who knows? I really don’t want him ruining my vacation, though — and I feel it’s already ruined, and we’ve only been here for three hours.”

“Not while I’m around he won’t,” announced Daniel, with a sudden determination I hadn’t seen before. “I fully intend to give you a good time.”

I laughed. Then I leaned forward and squeezed his hand. “Actually, I’m really glad you’re here; that I brought you.” Then I thought. “Anyway, as for giving me a good time — well, I seem to remember the girls and I were going to teach you how to do that.” I looked at my watch and gasped. “We’re late, too!”

We arrived upstairs five minutes later. Which door? I listened carefully to the three doors belonging to my crazy models. As always, it was Bonnie’s that had the moaning.

“Wow, is that what I think it is?” asked Daniel, smirking.

“Yep,” I replied. I knocked on the door. The moaning died down and there was some movement inside. Some seconds later, the door opened.

Bonnie was hiding behind it and poked her head around so we could see her. “Come in, guys!” she smiled.

We walked into her hotel room and Bonnie quickly shut the door behind us. She appeared, completely naked, behind Daniel, whose eyes widened when he saw her.

“Wow, Bonnie!” he said.

“Come on in,” replied Bonnie. “What took you?”

“We had a little issue downstairs in the lounge,” I explained.

“Oh, really?” said Bonnie, concerned. “Anything we need to know about?”

“Er, yeah, actually,” I replied. “Not right now, though. It can wait.”

On the double bed, Krystal was naked and lying face up, while Amelia was sitting on her, also naked, straddling her hips and stroking her hands up and down Krystal’s abdomen. She was grinding her hips against Krystal’s groin, and Krystal was the one who was moaning.

Bonnie mounted the bed and instantly bent over to grasp one of Krystal’s huge breasts, squash it together, then engulf the nipple and areola into her mouth. Sucking hard, she caused Krystal to moan louder, and the buxom model started breathing heavily.

I glanced at Daniel, whose wide-open eyes were taking in the scene. Looking back at the girls, I could hardly believe that last night at Bonnie’s house had happened, since the three of them moved with an urgency and need for desire that suggested they were already aroused, turned on and focused on their pleasure.

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