What She Needs

by Lacey Alexander

  So that was it. While she was at the Hotel Erotique, she’d indulge in whatever Brent wanted—she’d give him all of herself. And when it was over, she’d be sad—but ready to move on with men, and sex, and life itself.

  When she awoke the following morning to find an envelope under her door, she was eager to learn about her next fantasy. What she’d found, however, was another handwritten letter from Brent that had nothing to do with that.

  Dear Jenna,

  Since I’ve left you with extra time on your hands, I thought of something you might enjoy. Think of it as a little reward for surviving the dungeon. ☺

  You might have seen a location on resort maps called the Grotto. It’s a small, private swimming area designed to look like a natural tropical pool with rock walls, a small waterfall, and thick foliage surrounding it. It was created for fantasies—being secluded, it’s perfect for fucking. But when not reserved for that, we make use of it by offering it to a few guests at a time. It’s a great place to relax and soak up the sun with more privacy than you get at the other pools. There aren’t even any waiters—but you can pick up a carafe of rum punch at the main pool’s bar on your way.

  Only two other women have reservations this afternoon, both also single guests—and they might not even be there at the same time as you. Since a spot was open, I wrote in your name—the time slot starts at two and I’m enclosing a map. Feel free to indulge in some topless sunbathing or skinny-dipping if you want.

  An invitation to your next fantasy will be coming soon. But for now, enjoy the Grotto.

  Brent

  P.S. I’m imagining you topless there, even though I know you won’t be daring enough to do that. ☺

  Despite the thoughtful invitation, Jenna couldn’t help being disappointed. Having quickly gotten used to a steady diet of kinky fantasies, she was ready for the next one and didn’t want any more recovery time. She wanted to see her man, wanted to see what he’d planned next for her.

  But at least the letter meant he was thinking about her, too. Which, despite the differences between them, made her heart flutter in her chest. So if he’d been considerate enough to plan a relaxing afternoon for her, she’d certainly show up for it.

  And if it was as lush and beautiful as he said, maybe it would be just the thing to take her mind off her emotions. After all, hadn’t she come here to bask in the sun? Even if she’d ended up getting much more in the bargain, once she managed to clear her mind of sex and Brent for a moment, the Grotto actually sounded like a lovely place.

  Of course, she was aching for him by the time she picked up the carafe of erotic rum punch he’d suggested. It was hard to believe how fast she’d grown accustomed to naughty sex.

  But she would drink her punch and luxuriate by the Grotto, and . . . maybe be bold enough to go topless and surprise them both. Well, if the other women he’d mentioned weren’t around, of course. She would love telling Brent later that she had, just to see the look on his face.

  Brent waited patiently at the Grotto—although not out in the open. He’d dragged a lounge chair back into the bushes and wore a Hotel Erotique baseball cap, pulled low over his eyes.

  A day had passed since he’d seen Jenna, but he was still reliving their most recent night together. The truth was—her dungeon fantasy had gotten out of hand. He’d gotten too caught up in the role, in the power struggle, and taken things too far. As a facilitator, he’d never lost control of a situation before, ever—so he wasn’t sure how to explain it to himself. But she’d handled it like a trouper—she’d turned out to be so much stronger than probably either of them could have guessed. There was a lot more to Jenna Banks than he’d expected.

  As for taking her back to his house . . . that part of the night also left him shaking his head. What the fuck had that been about? He concluded that he’d just been brain-dead after the dungeon scene. He’d followed urges without thinking. He’d simply . . . wanted to keep being close to her, not ready for the night to end.

  Which was stupid, stupid, stupid. And he was getting stupider with her all the time.

  He couldn’t help wondering what the other facilitators had thought when there had obviously been more going on between the two of them than a normal dungeon fantasy. Would he lose their respect? Would everyone suddenly think it was okay to get involved with a guest?

  So he was creating problems with her here, multiple ones. Damn it.

  You have to stop this shit, once and for all.

  Of course, he kept telling himself he was getting too close, feeling too much, but did he manage to get it under control? Not very well.

  Yet he’d decided there was only one way to look at this. She had another week of fantasies, so during that time, he’d try to make the relationship less personal. And if he kept fucking up—well, it was only a week. And then she’d be gone and things would get back to normal.

  God, why had Mariel had to be called away now?

  But then he drew in his breath at the thought. If Mariel’s father hadn’t suffered that heart attack, Brent wouldn’t know Jenna—she’d be just another girl by the pool. She’d have convinced Mariel she didn’t want any fantasies, so he wouldn’t even have encountered her as a facilitator. She wouldn’t be growing, freeing herself, replacing those old, unhealthy perceptions of sex with new, better ones.

  And as for him—well, for him the effects of her stay wouldn’t be nearly as profound, but if things hadn’t happened this way, he would have missed out on knowing someone whose company he enjoyed very much, and on a woman who, it turned out, excited the hell out of him. And after fifteen years here, that was saying a lot.

  In fact, he was excited right now, his dick making a tent in his cargo shorts. Because it was time for Jenna’s next fantasy—only she didn’t know it.

  Unlike her previous fantasies, however, he was simply here to privately observe and see how she reacted—not to take part. And though the opportunity for this fantasy had come up only yesterday, he thought the timing was good. This was a great point for him to step back, to let her spread her sexual wings without him there to push her.

  Just then, a striking blonde in a pink bikini entered the Grotto area—and he could see immediately that she was just as beautiful as her pictures, and sexy as hell. He hoped Jenna would feel the same way.

  He knew from Roxanne—the only female guide on the premises this week, who’d been too overbooked to take Jenna—that Chrissy was a twenty-eight-year-old lawyer on a fast track to the DA’s chair who, despite being straight, had long fantasized about being with other girls. But her social circle didn’t offer the opportunity, nor did she feel she could risk her professional reputation at home where so many people knew her.

  She’d come here strictly for girl play, and so far had done very well in her first two fantasies. In one, Kirsten had guided her through some soft experimentation on the beach; then yesterday she’d lived out a courtroom fantasy, being seduced by two powerful women, the opposing counsel on a pretend case she’d just won, getting it on atop the judge’s bench in the resort’s on-site courtroom.

  Now it was Chrissy’s turn to seduce. She knew only that she was supposed to be at the Grotto in her bikini, that at least one of the other parties didn’t know a fantasy was taking place, and that this was her chance to try her hand at tempting another woman into sex. Also on hand a little later would be Natasha, a facilitator who would keep things on track for both guests if required and also partake if it worked out that way.

  As for Jenna’s progress, there was no more discipline needed. She’d learned to give and to take when commanded, allowing Brent to acclimate her to wilder sex than she’d ever had, and teaching her to accept and follow her body’s desires.

  Of course, inducing her to obey him, while being a necessary evil that he’d personally enjoyed, had also reinforced her tendencies to please people, particularly him. So this fantasy—other than the added benefit of getting him out of the picture—was about encouraging her to be bolder, o
n her own. To respond to pleasure with ease. To choose to give it in return.

  If she indeed followed her impulses, he’d know his tutoring was succeeding. After which he could advance her further, giving her new types of fantasies based more on her personal tastes—even if the actual content of the fantasies would be designed to continue expanding her limits.

  And if more discipline came into play later, so be it. At least one of Jenna’s future fantasies contained such elements because he’d been unsure where they’d stand at this point and he’d, frankly, underestimated how malleable she’d be. But for today, that didn’t matter. Today was all about hoping Little Mary Sunshine was ready for a full-blown lesbian encounter. Hell. His cock was as hard as the rock walls of the Grotto, stiffening almost painfully when he envisioned what he hoped was about to happen here. Ah well—that was apparently how things would be for him until Jenna’s stay was over. He was going to enjoy monitoring this fantasy far too much.

  It was after Chrissy spread her towel at the edge of the pool, sitting down to dangle her feet in the water, that Jenna arrived. And Brent’s heart nearly stopped. Damn—hot bikini, babe. He wished he could tell her. She looked fucking amazing. Not that the sight of her in a leopard-print bikini should get him that worked up, considering every other way he’d seen her. But there it was—Jenna just plain turned him on now.

  As she lowered her carafe of punch onto the grass, then laid out her towel on a chair, all of Brent’s senses heightened. It wasn’t, by far, the first fantasy he’d monitored—guides sometimes watched fantasies to make sure everything went as planned—but it was probably the first fantasy he’d ever monitored with such intense, prurient interest. He was doing his job, but at the same time he was just another horny guy hoping to see some girl-on-girl action from the woman who’d been driving him to distraction the last few days.

  Come on, Jenna, do this for me. Let yourself go. Let yourself play.

  The Grotto was everything Brent had promised in his letter and more. Well off the beaten path, it was close enough to the beach for Jenna to feel the breeze and hear the calls of seagulls, but remained so isolated that it delivered the sense of being on some remote South Pacific island, as opposed to the grounds of the Hotel Erotique.

  Only one other woman had arrived and, when Jenna approached, she turned to look up from her spot by the pool. “Hi,” she said, flashing bright eyes and a friendly smile. She was extremely pretty, with long, blond, model-worthy hair.

  “Hi,” Jenna said, then looked around a bit more—toward the small waterfall Brent had mentioned, tumbling from a small rocky cliff built into the verdant landscape. The pool itself wasn’t any larger than you’d find in the average backyard, but that somehow made it feel all the more like a secret utopia. Bright pink bougainvillea and other tropical flowers flourished near the waterfall and all around the area’s perimeter, and though a few palm trees dotted the soft grass, the space was sunny and bright. “This place is beautiful,” she heard herself murmur.

  “I know,” the other girl said, appearing just as in awe. “I’ve been sitting here taking it all in. I’m Chrissy, by the way.” She gave her head a pretty tilt, leaving Jenna struck by how naturally vivacious she was.

  “Jenna,” she introduced herself, lowering herself to the edge of her lounge chair, then bending to pour some rum punch into a plastic cup.

  “Yum,” Chrissy said with a smile. “Lucky you. I just brought some water.”

  Given that she hardly needed to drink a whole carafe, Jenna said, “Want some? I even have an extra cup.” The bartender at the main pool had given her two, in case one blew away in the breeze.

  “If you’re sure you don’t mind. It looks delish.”

  Jenna widened her eyes as she filled the other cup. “You haven’t had any erotic rum punch yet? It’s great—I can’t seem to stop drinking it and will probably be five pounds heavier by the time I get home.”

  Chrissy gave her a quick perusal and said, “With pretty curves like yours, five pounds won’t hurt—you’ll still look totally hot.”

  “Thanks,” Jenna said softly, flattered but—even after her experiences here—not used to having girls compliment her body in a sexual way. When she stood to pass Chrissy’s cup down to her, that’s when she noticed the other girl’s tattoo—a white and yellow daisy in the small of her back, just above her small pink bikini bottoms. She’d never seen a tattoo look at once so innocent yet sexy, and she thought it suited Chrissy well. “Nice tattoo,” she said. Though she’d never felt much one way or the other about them, this one appealed to her.

  Chrissy smiled over her shoulder. “Thanks. A gift I bought myself for passing the bar.”

  “You’re a lawyer?” She didn’t look like a lawyer. She looked like a swimsuit model.

  Chrissy nodded easily. “Don’t let the friendly exterior fool you—I’m a tiger in the courtroom.”

  “I’m impressed,” Jenna said, leaning back in her chair, and—mmm, the sun felt incredible on her skin. There was something special about the privacy here—even in the presence of someone she’d just met, she felt completely at ease. She stretched out, even lifting her arms up over her head.

  And when she glanced back to Chrissy, she almost got the impression her new friend was taking in her body—again. “Oh, come on—I’m sure you do something equally impressive and fabulous.” Then she added, with a laugh, “You’d have to, to afford this place.”

  “Actually,” Jenna informed her, “I won the trip in a contest.”

  “Wow—lucky girl.”

  “As for being impressive and fabulous, you’ll have to be the judge. I write historical biographies for a living.”

  Chrissy gave her head a speculative tilt. “So you’re an author?” she asked to clarify.

  Jenna nodded. “But don’t let the occupation fool you. I’m doing well, but I’m not living in a mansion or driving a Mercedes just yet.”

  Chrissy shrugged. “Still sounds pretty fabulous.” Then she kicked up her feet, splashing lightly in the water, and leaned her head back. “Mmm, this is so nice.”

  “Is the water warm?”

  “Just right,” Chrissy assured her. Then she patted the grassy spot next to her towel. “You should join me.”

  Okay, so this wasn’t going to be a quiet or introspective sort of afternoon. Jenna hadn’t really planned on chatting, but she liked Chrissy and decided it could be nice to just . . . hang out with another girl for a while. In fact, it might be enlightening to get to know another guest—she’d hardly spoken to anyone here besides employees. The guests tended to keep to themselves or the people they’d come with, and she’d actually been very glad to discover it worked that way—but given her curiosity about the sort of person who paid to come here, and that Chrissy wasn’t what she might have expected, maybe this would be interesting.

  So Jenna moved her towel, smoothing it out next to Chrissy’s.

  And as she sat down beside her, Chrissy said, “I just have to tell you—that’s a rockin’ bikini. Your tits look amazing in it.”

  Jenna tried to ignore the blush warming her cheeks and hoped Chrissy wouldn’t see it. Maybe it made sense that girls who paid to come to the Hotel Erotique were more comfortable talking openly about bodies than she usually was—so she would try to go with the flow. “Well, thanks. I was actually admiring yours, too.” She punctuated the remark by dipping her feet in the water—the perfect temperature, as promised.

  “My bikini or my tits?” Chrissy asked on a laugh.

  Jenna caught her breath, but still tried to act as cool as she wanted to be. “Well, I meant your bikini, but your tits look pretty awesome, too.” She hadn’t really seen them before, but her new vantage point revealed that Chrissy possessed enviably perfect breasts—large, round, and so firm Jenna wondered if they were real. Real or not, though, they looked worthy of any men’s magazine.

  In response, Chrissy gave her chest a little shimmy, making her boobs jiggle provocatively. “Glad you like
’em,” she said with another attractive smile. And for some reason, the move made Jenna aware of her own breasts, held snug in her Lycra top, and a surreptitious glance down revealed that her nipples were erect. Then again, they were usually erect these days, just as Brent had noticed earlier this week—the effect of him plus kinky sex.

  “Oh, damn,” Chrissy said, snapping her fingers. “I forgot to put on sunscreen.” With that, she leaned back to reach for her beach bag, at the foot of another lounge chair just out of arm’s reach. She ended up lying nearly all the way over on her side, stretching one shapely leg across Jenna’s thighs. Jenna bit her lip uncertainly until Chrissy returned to the usual upright position, giggling. “Sorry—it was farther away than I realized.”

  For some reason, Jenna made a point of not watching Chrissy apply her sunscreen, but as the scent of coconut met her nose, she couldn’t help observing from her peripheral vision: Chrissy smoothed it sensually over her arms, then her chest, including the round curves of her breasts. After doing her stomach, she rubbed more lotion across her thighs, massaging it in slowly and parting her legs to get the inner areas as well. Then she held the tube of lotion out to Jenna. “Do my back?”

  If this were Shannon, it would be nothing—they’d been doing each other’s backs since high school—but with Chrissy, it felt different. As Chrissy faced away and lifted her long hair, Jenna wondered how it would feel to rub the lotion into Chrissy’s tan back as sensually as Chrissy had in front. So, with tiny butterflies fluttering through her stomach, she worked the fragrant sunscreen slowly and thoroughly into Chrissy’s skin—although she hoped it wouldn’t seem like she was . . . into her. “All done,” Jenna said, snapping the cap shut and setting the tube down between them.