by Wild, Suzy
Unnoticed I started to dress.
“Ooohhhh!” screamed Kat as she came hard, her legs and arms trembling, struggling to hold her off John. Brad grunted. “No!” shouted Kat, pushing back and hopping off. Brad stood at the end of the bed and she stood to one side grasping his cock, pumping it furiously. To his red-faced shame John came again, covering himself in goo, then Brad was coming, his spunk pumping out of his thick tool like it was exploding from a fire hydrant, covering John. Kat started laughing hysterically.
I picked up my bag as Kat let go of Brad’s tool and stepped away from the bed.
“Well that was fun,” she gasped, reaching for her clothes. Brad looked exhausted, but I hurried him into his clothes and pushed him to the door.
He turned to me, “Suzy, look, don’t leave, I...” I shut him up with a long deep kiss.
“Me too Brad. I’ll call you when I’m back from Europe.” Then I propelled him out the door.
Kat was fully clothed she had her arms folded looking down at John who looked absolutely deflated. He made for a pitiful site.
“Come on Kat, let’s go.” I had to pull her to the door. She stopped and turned to blow him a kiss. We left the door open. My last site of John was of him tied to the bed covered in spunk with “I love cock” scrawled in bright red lipstick across his chest.
We left the door open and our laughter echoed down the corridor as we headed off on our next adventure. Little did I know what an adventure that would be...
Confessions of a Chalet Girl
As my own orgasm subsided she was sliding up my body again. Her mouth met mine and I could taste my juices on her lips as we kissed deeply. This time it was my hands struggling with her trousers, with a flex of her hips she wriggled free and I could see a thin strip of blonde hair above her glistening slit. A natural blonde! I slid two fingers into her snatch, hearing her moan. I pulled them out coated in her juices and offered them up to her mouth. Her lips closed greedily around them and she sucked on them hard looking deep into my eyes. But I’m getting ahead of myself...
College hadn’t exactly worked out as planned, but that was fine, I’d learnt a lot, and now I had a job at a high end chalet in the European Alps for the winter. College could wait, the snow and good time couldn’t. If I’d known then that I’d end up sleeping with one of my friend’s dads and doing unspeakable things with a faded celebrity, would I still have gone? Definitely! And let’s not forget those oh so smooth ski instructors and the other chalet boys and girls...
After an interesting but slightly unfortunate end to my first term in college, I’d leapt at the chance to spend winter as a chalet girl in the European Alps. A friend of mine had set-up the interview and I got the job no problem. We’d be looking after the clients in an expensive chalet in a resort, basically cleaning in the mornings, preparing breakfast and cooking an evening meal. That meant that the days were free for skiing with our complementary season long lift passes, and we could party at night as long as we could drag ourselves in to do breakfast in the morning. What wasn’t to like about the deal? Well, as I found out, lousy pay and sharing a dark bunk room under the chalet, at least it wasn’t far to work though.
The resort was like a film set, very traditional, all steeply shelving roofs, stone and timber houses, log cabins and fairy lights. Plus great bars and nightclubs! There were about ten of us spread over five chalets, with two girls to each chalet. I was paired up with a pretty upper class English girl called Isabella, or Izzy as she preferred. She had a cut glass accent, blonde hair scraped back in a pony tail, bright green eyes, and she was gorgeous, with a knockout figure. I know this because we got issued with our uniforms and we were a little surprised: two pairs of tight skinny jeans, four skinny, figure hugging polo t-shirts, a fleece and a pair of sheepskin boots. The polo shirts seemed to have been cut to maximize the swell of your chest and the tightness of your waist, and I noticed at the first team meeting, that all the girls were above average looks, and all with great figures. I guess it must have saved on the uniform costs to be able to get skinny, small sizes... The shirts were a lovely blue that brought out my eyes and made my blonde hair look more golden, and I noticed that the shirt really strained across my chest, and when I stretched for anything rode up to exposed my tight midriff. That wasn’t such a bad thing, it would be good for tips if nothing else.
Anyway, Izzy turned out to be a great laugh, an amazing skier, a prodigious drinker, but very uptight about sex. On the first night, after we got back from our welcome drinks, staggering to our dark whole a room, I tried to talk to her about boys, because we’d both noticed the tanned and hunky ski instructors hanging around the bar. She’d loved talking about the boys, but once I’d started teasing about what we could do with them she got all sniffy and said that sexual matters “were not something one discusses”. I decided she was a regular ice-maiden, but as I was to find out, even ice-maiden’s can thaw.
We had a few days before our first guests arrived to familiarize ourselves with the chalet, the shops (for the food), the resort and the ski runs. We were expected to be able to talk to the guess about runs and routes so we were actively encouraged to get out and ski which was great. The manager Tarquin was a floppy haired English public schoolboy with cut glass cheekbones, stunning looks and the arrogance to match. It was his job to meet and greet the guests, make sure everything was okay, and manage us. He didn’t seem interested in any of us though, and I wondered if he might be gay.
The other thing we had to do was to get up to speed on our cooking. Fortunately, Izzy turned out to be a whizz in the kitchen. It turned out that they do a lot of cooking classes at these fancy schools, and she had a weekly menu worked in no time that had great tasting and looking dishes on that required the minimum of time in the kitchen. I let her take the lead in the kitchen, having perhaps exaggerated my own culinary skills just a little.
Thank fully the chalet was well equipped with a dishwasher, heating, a roaring gas fire, hot tub and small sauna. Unlike our room, which didn’t have much more than a bunk bed, shower, and toilet.
Of course, with us ten girls all socializing together, it wasn’t long before friendships were forged, and the first resort romances began to blossom as we honed in on the local ski instructors. Perhaps romance is the wrong word, there seemed an unspoken rule that this was a temporary thing for the season only, and that any point either party might, and probably would go off with someone else, but that didn’t matter. I guess basically, the workers started to hook up with fuck buddies.
Personally speaking, after the disaster of my college sex life, I wasn’t looking for love or even a relationship, just some fun, and that’s what I got. It was less than a week in and we were all downing shots in a bar when I got talking to one of the hunkier ski instructors in there. His name was Anton, he told me he’d been a professional ski racer, and looking into his deep blue eyes I’d have believed anything he said.
An hour later and he’d have believed anything I said. Had my mouth not been full... Knowing Izzy might be around we’d gone back to his small apartment and barely made it through the front door before we were tearing each other’s clothes off. I was slightly disappointed to find his tan extended only to his face and that the rest of his body was a pale milky white. I wasn’t so disappointed by his lean athletic frame or his hard to attention cock. I’m guessing that means he wasn’t too disappointed in my ex-gymnasts body. If I’d been expected foreplay I was wrong. We ripped each others clothes off in a frenzy of messy kissing and I’d reached for his cock, but after only a cupel of tugs he’d hoisted me up into the air, pushed inside my wet pussy and started banging me as he carried me around the apartment on his muscly thighs. What stamina the guy had! I guess he was a professional athlete after all. He started hard and fast and I was convinced we’d be heading for an early finish before a rerun, but twelve or fifteen minutes alter he was still pumping hard, the sweat pouring form our bodies, his arms and legs showing the strain of supporting my lithe
for as his hip kept going like a jack hammer. The hammering on my clit brought me an amazing earth shattering climax, and still he kept going. I locked my ankles around the small of his back and hung on for dear life as he worked away, his hard glistening cock pumping in and out of me. I felt a second orgasm building, and this time as I came again, my love muscles squeezing and contracting around his cock inside me as my juices flowed, I felt his own explosive orgasm inside me. He held me panting for a moment then gently carried me through to the bedroom and laid me on the bed. He flopped down beside me and we both struggled to get our breath back.
After a while I turned to him and started to nuzzle against his chest, when I heard it, a snore! I couldn’t believe it, I mean the guy had given a great performance, but was that it? I ran my hand over his muscled thighs and up to his cock which lay curved and glistening in a short neat patch of pubic hair. I idly started to play with it, and it responded, slowly growing. I moved my head down and took him in my mouth. I could taste his salty cum and my own juices as I took the warmth of him in my own hot mouth. I closed my lips and whisked my tongue around the head of his cock, feeling it grow in the haven of my mouth.
As it grew I adjusted my technique, now gently sliding my mouth up and down his near erect length. As he came to full attention I looked up the bed, His eyes were still closed his head to one side, and I was sure he was still asleep. This was unbelievable. I looked at his cock, all swollen and hard, and made my decision. I straddled him and slipped his length into my still juiced up cleft. I’d thought that would wake him, but he murmured and moved his head to the other side but didn’t wake up. I slowly started to grin my hips backwards and forwards along his body, feeling his shaft buried deep, pushing my clit against his hardness. Still he didn’t awake, but the snoring stopped. I pushed hard and increased my tempo. His eyes flew open and I could see a moment of confusion in them before he smiled, grasped a hold of my hips and urged me on.
I didn’t need any encouragement though and I started to grind on him harder and faster. I could feel my orgasm building when he gave sudden cry and I felt his cock spams inside me. He’d come already. I wasn’t ready so I rode on. He cried out and bit his lip, I didn’t care if I was hurting him, I was so close, then it came crashing waves of orgasm as he cried out and rolled me over and off. I lay there gasping. After a few minutes I rolled over to face him. He was asleep again, even as I looked at him the snoring started up. A man that snored? This was never going to work. I scribbled him a quick note to that effect, got dressed and left.
When I got back Izzy was in bed, she had the top bunk and she looked at me sleepily as I crept in.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“Off-piste.” I giggled.
She gave a groan and rolled over, “I don’t want to know. Turn the light out will you.”
It was a little disappointing not to have someone to share my experiences with. I tried to relate the nights events to Izzy n the morning but she held up her palm firmly and said she didn’t want to know. I guess she was even more uptight than I’d thought. Events were to prove me wrong though.
We were having a lot of fun, and the work really wasn’t that hard, with plenty of time for skiing, the only downer was the lack of money from our wages. Sometimes groups that stayed in the chalet left good tips, and sometimes they didn’t. We had just about enough to go out and get drunk a couple of times a week and that was it. Luckily I was about to get the chance to make some extra money. Just thinking about it now I blush though. It was the first and last time I took money for, well, inappropriate activity.
We always got a head up on our rosters about the next guest to come, so that we’d know numbers and could shop and prepare accordingly. One week though Izzy and I were handed a sheet with only one name on.
“There’s got to be a mistake?” Izzy asked Tarquin.
“I thought so, but I checked with the office and it’s right. Just one. He’s hired the whole chalet for himself for the week. Likes his privacy apparently.”
We thought it was odd, but it made life even easier for us, then, just before the guest was due to arrive Tarquin updated us.
“The office have been in touch about our guest,” A smile played at the corner of his mouth, “turns out he’s a bit of a celeb. Or was.” He said the name, we laughed.
“Really?” Asked Izzy
“Really.” Confirmed Tarquin. The guy was a minor Hollywood actor who’d been a heartthrob about five years ago, but the roles had dried up. It looked like he still had plenty of money though if he was renting a luxury chalet to himself. “He’s paid extra to buy our silence. He was never a guest of our company, never stayed here, and none of us are to mention it to anyone. If the press try to get in touch you know nothing.”
“He wishes.” Izzy commented dryly.
“Indeed. He’s obviously a little paranoid, and who can blame him after the stories we’ve heard,” that had been lurid tabloid headlines about the guy, a reason for his box office demise, “nevertheless, our company has signed a confidentiality contract, and as employees of the company we’re bound by it. There will be a bonus in your pay packet this month to reflect this. I hope we’re all clear.”
“Yes,” we both nodded.
After the meeting we were so excited, genuine film star, albeit a washed up one, staying with us. We were burning to tell our friends. But couldn’t, so it was a late night as we lay awake chatting and wondering what he’d be like in the flesh, and more importantly, whether he’d be a good tipper. He turned out to be a lot more than that...
Of course we were excited, and we weren’t let down. I’m going to call the guy Harry (not his real name), and despite his star having faded he was still gorgeous. He came alone and we were careful to be extra attentive, but strangely the excitement faded. Harry was polite, but too polite, like he was guarding his true self. He got up, had breakfast, went out skiing in big goggles and a hat with ear flaps so that he could ski around unmolested, came back at the end of the day, had dinner, and, so far as we knew (and we listened out hard!) went to bed early.
If we’d been hoping for a touch of the wild living and scandal we’d heard so much about we were sorely disappointed. Until his last night.
Harry hadn’t drunk the entire time he was with us, but on his last night he started with a glass of wine, that became a bottle. He was still quiet but gradually as we served his dinner he grew more talkative, and for that, read lewd.
At first it was comments about how pretty we were, then what great bodies we had, by dessert he’d slapped Izzy on the butt earning a stern look from her. He’d retired to the sofa with a tumbler of whisky on the rocks and we were tidying away. He just watched us, sipping his drink.
“You girls really are hot, you know that?” He beamed at us, turning on that legendary charisma. It seemed Izzy was immune though.
“Why thank you.” She replied coldly.
“You know what, you’ve looked after me so well. We could have a little last night party and maybe I could look after you a bit?” He had an eyebrow cocked and a gleam in his eye that left us in no doubt what he meant.
“I don’t think so. We’re not meant to fraternize with the guests.” Was Izzy’s ice cold reply.
“Aw, c’mon. You’re bound by a confidentially agreement, I’m sure as hell not going to tell anyone, let’s have a little fun.”
“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” Izzy relied in her cut glass accent. We’d almost finished clearing everything away.
“Okay, okay. Indulge me though. How about you two snuggle up and give each other a kiss. For me.”
He watched us, I looked at Izzy, and she laughed and shook her head. “ I really don’t think so Harry. Maybe you should lay off the drink a bit.”
“Five hundred Euros.”
“Sorry?” I asked
“Five Hundred Euros for you if you give each other a nice long kiss.” There was a short, very still silence which Izzy broke, her voice frosty
enough to send a chill down my spine. She fixed Harry with a withering stare.
“Are you proposing that we kiss each other for your enjoyment in exchange for money from you?” She managed to adopt a tone that made it sound like he’d just asked the Easter Bunny to come back with Christmas presents instead of chocolate eggs.
“Each. Five hundred each.”
“Sorry? If we kiss each other you’ll give us five hundred Euros each?” I blurted out. That was nearly a month’s pay.
“Suzy!” Spat Izzy turning her icy glare onto me.
“Exactly!” beamed Harry. “Come on. No one will ever know. Just give each other a good, long kiss and,” he reached in his pocket and peeled out a thick wad of notes, “It’s five hundred Euros each.” He waved the paper in the air.
I looked at Izzy, she was biting her bottom lip. “Izzy...”
“If it will make you happy and stop you staring at us, then yes, we’ll give each other a kiss, then leave.”
I was shocked to hear the words leave her mouth, but she was nothing if not determined and she already had the notes snatched into her hand. She stepped towards me, and without any further ado slipped an arm over my shoulder, closed her eyes and tilted her head towards mine. Her full lips parted and gently bumped mine, her hot tongue probing my mouth. Her body pressed close to mine, and I responded, leaning into her. She was a hell of a kisser and fleetingly I wondered where she’d learnt this. I could feel her curves against me and her tongue swirled around my mouth, then she darted in and out, before, as suddenly as she’d started, stopping and pulling away. She thrust some notes towards me and stuffed the rest in her pocket.
