(Author's note: This "just for fun" story was inspired by a recent news report regarding a hotel in Turkey where the male employees had been sacked for "accommodating" the female guests. It's also a nod of appreciation to the stories by New Forester.)
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Beatrice was sitting on the divan in her comfortably appointed room. Tears meandered down her pretty face. She still felt breathless and as if she was in free fall. Hearing James answer the phone a short while ago was like being pushed out of an airliner with no parachute. It not only had been his voice, it had been his "bedroom voice," that verbal tone he hadn't used with her in years. She heard the little slut too, telling him to give her the phone just before Bea had pressed the end button on her cell without speaking a word.
It was now screamingly obvious to her why he had been so enthusiastic and insistent about her accompanying the girls on this ten day holiday to the Turkish 'Riviera,' women she knew but with whom she really wasn't that close, wives of other execs at the corporation. Mags was right. James was bopping that little twenty-something slut from the secretarial pool, whom he had referred to as his 'girl Friday.'
Bea had called home first. With the time difference, it was after 11:00p in London when the telephone rang there. No answer. She hadn't left a message. She had then called the number Mags had gotten in the afternoon, after telephoning another woman from the secretary pool whom Mags referred to as her 'little confidential informant.' Mags had made a point of getting the number after Bea had said her James would never cheat on her. Mags had been two sheets to the wind on the beach when they had their little discussion, just short of an argument about Bea not partaking of what the local "boys" had to offer. That's when Mags dumped the news of James' infidelity on her.
Bea had been upset even before Mags' shocking statement about James. She didn't like how the other women with her were partying every night so far, staying out to all hours, bringing young men to their rooms, and blatantly cheating on their husbands. Bea had gone to bed early both nights, mostly to get away from the goings on.
As a child, Bea had been brought up not to be stingy or a penny pincher, but frugal, especially regarding her own extravagances. She had thought the trip cost a small fortune but James had insisted she deserved it. Their rooms weren't in the hotel proper. They were letting a very comfortable and modern vacation house right on the shore, one of four which were part of the new beach front hotel complex. They had access to the pool, game room, tennis courts and everything else the hotel offered. Each woman had her own private bedroom and private bath. Even though Bea had tried to get to sleep early each night, she had heard sounds from both sides of her room - laughing, clapping sounds, a glass or two breaking, headboards of beds thumping against the walls, even a few orgasmic grunts and squeals of delight.
She had gotten up the second night, dressed and walked down the beach when she hadn't been able to take the sounds coming from Mags' room. No one else had been in the house. It had been before midnight so she hadn't thought the short walk on the beach to the hotel would be dangerous. She had passed many couples along the shore, walking arm in arm, or holding hands. She had a drink at the outdoor bar on the hotel's terrace.
When she returned to the house a little before 1:00a, she had stepped into the lounge and Colette had been slouched on the couch, her long legs spread wide, only wearing a short silk robe which was open, as a kneeling, dark, handsome, young man had his face buried between her thighs, his tongue and mouth obviously attending her sex. Colette had laughed and said, "Whoopsie!" The young naked man pulled his head up and laughed too. Bea had hurried past them up to her room. The noises of fornication coming through the walls again, Mags and Delores doing what Colette undoubtedly would be doing soon.
She had lain awake half the night, not being able to rid her mind of the sight of the handsome, swarthy, young man's face buried between Colette's thighs and how clearly she had been enjoying it. Bea hadn't been able to remember the last time James' tongue had touched her down there. She exercised religiously both anaerobic and aerobic at the health club and she watched what she ate, even all the girls here said she had the best body of their little group. Mags of course said that was because she was the youngest at 37, but then admitted she was just envious.
Mags and the other girls all exercised at health clubs too. They had very attractive, even sexy, if not quite sizzling hot, bodies for being women in their early 40's. Bea thought how little difference her fit figure made to James. She had been so sexually frustrated for years now. She had never believed women reached their sexual peak in their mid-thirties. She thought that was just mumbo jumbo, some feminist nonsense to somehow imply getting older had some benefits, giving women something to look forward to before entering menopause. She now knew it was true.
She recalled how Colette had commented that Bea should have the best figure, because she had never had her body stretched out with the inconvenience of childbirth. That was Bea's biggest disappointment in her life. She took no solace in the fact that it was James' low motility and not her eggs or uterus. She had brought up the idea of adoption to James, but he didn't even want to discuss it, let alone consider it.
And now his lousy sperm was filling some tramp at the office! When she heard his "bedroom" voice on the other end, she really hadn't been that shocked about his infidelity specifically, it had more to do with her hopes and marriage being viciously crushed. She admitted though that when she pressed the end button on her cell, she was still stunned about James, even though in her heart she had guessed Mags was probably right before telephoning. His sexual disinterest now made sense. When the shock had started to wear off, she had thought she'd start sobbing, and she did cry, but more of a gentle whimpering shedding of tears. Another tear ran down her cheek.
She took a deep breath, then rose from the divan and went into her private bathroom. She pulled some tissues from the dispenser, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She gazed into the mirror. She was still relatively young looking at 37. Her hair was touched up but it had always been blond, her muff attested to that fact. She really was in great shape, maybe better shape than she was when she married James at 23. She had used exercising as a way to dull her sexual desires. Her muscles were toned but not bulging, her tummy was flat. She needed to work more on her hips but her bottom was tight for a woman approaching forty. She was slender, her boobs weren't huge but they weren't small either. She had always taken care of her skin, used sun block all the time, got her tans sprayed on at the health club. The girls called her skinny. She weighed fifteen pounds less than the charts said was appropriate for a woman of 5'- 6."
She knew 'skinny' was an exaggeration, just a compliment, but damn it, she was thin, attractive, and according to the girls again, she had a body most men would drool over. She never watched for it, but she knew men took notice of her sometimes, even young men, they certainly did the past couple of days around the hotel beach and in the bar. She shouldn't count the hotel staff, because she had realized yesterday they were probably just looking for side work being 'escorts' for woman like Mags, Colette, and Delie. She turned in profile to the mirror. She ran her hand over her bum. It was tight, firm and curvy. Mags said she had a bustle. Another exaggeration but it was sexy arse, maybe even sexier than that American pop singer who was trying to act in movies now. Her own hips weren't as wide as that younger woman's.
As she checked her image out, her anger started overpowering her sadness. She deserved better than James. She deserved the attention of a man who would give her what she had been craving for the past handful of years. She was horny all the time and James never even picked up on any of her hints, wasn't interested, was tired whenever they went to bed. How many times had she just been frank and asked him to make love, and he responded, Not tonight, darling. I'm a bit exhausted. Hard day at the office and all that. Fifty times? A hundred times?
She kept the house for him, did all the little things and errands he needed done, even set out his clothes every morning, and then he got his kicks, his sex, his intimacy outside of the home with some tramp?! No wonder he was always exhausted at bedtime! Well, she'd keep his house, do all the nice things she did for him every day that he took for granted now, and keep up the pretense of being a happily married couple, but she'd get her sexual needs met outside the damn home too!
She went to the closet and pulled out her tightest, smallest tank dress. A nice light blue to draw attention to her blue eyes. She'd go to the bar and just see how many offers she got and maybe, just maybe she'd have a little Turkish affair, tit for tat! Why should she care about a cheating, lying, tired, fool of a husband?! How long had her marriage been a sham?!
She considered wearing her high heeled wedgies which she thought made her legs look more alluring, but knew she'd be getting smashed tonight, and she always found it difficult to walk in them when she was a bit snockered. Instead she chose her thin strap, flat, leather sandals, those would be safer footwear. Tit for tat, James! You bastard!
She had sat with the girls for an hour in the hotel's outdoor restaurant, until her 'friends' all left with their escorts. She had moved to the inside bar, hoping to attract some man, even a German, but the bar crowd wasn't what it had been the previous two evenings, it looked more like a 'couples only' night. She had asked Amand, the barman, why it seemed there were so few single people around.