"Packed for
sun and kinky fun!" Brock cheered, inadvertently jostling his
girlfriend. "A week with no one to
disturb us! This’ll be great!"
PRICKLY HEAT
(2)
()()()()()()()()()()
Ash
moved his shoulders in violent circles – the cold line of sweat down his spine
was uncomfortable. He shot an irritable glance at Misty, peach coloured
sundress whipping against her legs in the warm breeze. Ash blew up his fringe
and chided himself for becoming so accustomed to the milder climate of Kanto –
even if he was tied down near Viridian now, he was a traveller at heart!
“We’re here,” Misty murmured, her voice low
and suggestive. Ash blinked against the harsh sunlight as he looked up at the
nondescript building.
“We are?” he asked, looking
disdainfully at the grey building.
“Mmmhmm. Isn’t it discreet?”
Ash wrinkled his nose in reply; Misty pretended not
to notice and skipped towards the tinted glass doors. Ash loitered a second,
dubiously looking up again at the dreary edifice, grey and looming against the
cornflower tropical sky.
“Ash!” Misty
hissed, one hand poised to push open the door. “Incognito
doesn’t involve standing on the street staring gormlessly. Move it.”
Ash threw her a pained look and lugged both
suitcases slowly in her general direction, while she shot coveted glances
suspiciously up and down the back street as if expectant of a veritable hoard
of paparazzi to stampede towards her.
“Come on, come on!”
she ushered him inside, the heavy glass doors catching him in the heel as they
swung together again. Ash knew the drill when it came to hotels – he stayed
back, with his gaze focused on the luggage – no eye contact with anybody. Misty
approached the grey-suited man behind the grey desk, the only warm thing Ash
could see in the room.
He rolled his eyes as Misty approached him, swinging
a key on a grey keychain.
“We’re in the Master Suite,” she
purred, “kinda fitting, huh?” Ash
shot her a smirk, before catching her around the back of the knees and fluidly
gathering her up in his arms.
“I’m not the Master this
week, remember? For seven days, I’m all yours.”
Misty blinked and smiled, touched, warmth in her
chest and behind her eyes. She pushed herself up for a kiss, more tender than
one would normally go in a public situation.
“Tstch,” sounded
an unimpressed maid as she skirted around them carrying a hamper of damp
towels. “Gedda room…” she
murmured, almost under her breath.
“Heh!” Misty
laughed, “don’t mind if we do!” Stretching
her feet down to the floor, she wriggled out of the embrace and frolicked
towards the lifts, leaving her beau to manoeuvre the luggage. Apparently Hotel
Peek-A-Boo thought bellboys too indiscreet.
()()()()()()()()()()
Ash had almost been expecting a room as drab, dreary
and discreet as the façade of the building itself. ‘Room Decadence’ the looping
gilt words on the door had introduced, before swinging back to reveal exactly
that – a sprawling sea of purples, crimsons and gold, a carpet of plush
cushions, velour and velvet as far as the eye could see.
Misty squealed and reached out to pat a fat velvet
cushion. “Oooh it’s a real ‘pad’!” she
proclaimed in delight, swinging her handbag off her shoulder and depositing it
on a strange half-hammock, half-restraining contraption that hung from the
ceiling. “It feels so luxurious!”
she cooed as she turned to face Ash. “It’s like some
sort of… sexy dollhouse! Just imagine! We can pretend it’s some sort of palace.
We can be Paris and Helen! Orsino and Viola! –“
“Drug dealer and hooker?” Ash
frowned around him, trying to set the smaller shoulder bag down and flinching
as it bounced back upwards due to the padded flooring.
“Aaaaash,” Misty
turned her pout on him as she backed seductively onto a golden chaise-longue. “Don’t be such a spoilsport. How can this room not make you feel…” She
chewed on her lip lightly, casting around for the right phrasing.
“Decadent?” Ash
offered with a smirk, scraping a gap in the desert of plush to deposit the
bags. “Awwww Misty, can’t we just go home? People
like us don’t belong here! It’s just not normal!” Misty
fingered the peach strap of her dress as if deeply contemplating her response.
Ash crossed himself for the onslaught.
“Nice weather here,” she
remarked, rising lazily from the chaise-longue. Ash balked. “Shame to waste it. I haven’t felt tropical sun on my skin for a while.
While we’re here, I may as well… strip down and have a little… swim?”
Ash narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re using that ‘S’ word thing you read in your girly magazine. It’s
stupid. Why is a specific letter supposed to turn me on?” Misty
gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look before drifting behind a caramel-coloured
screen. Ash rolled his eyes as she moved to remove her sundress; facing the
windows gave the screen a sheer effect. “What’s next?
Are you going to tell me to sssssslather you with sssssssuncream?” Ash
hissed before plonking himself down on the golden chaise-longue, amused at his
wit.
“You can if you want,” the
caramel-coloured shadow replied mildly. Ash cast a disapproving look around the
room again.
“Really love, this place is
vile. It’s worse than vile. It’s where porno-movie props come to die. Let’s
just go home, home to our bed! I’ll even… even… I mean, you can go on top, if
you want to,” Ash added with the air of someone granting an
immense honour. “But you’d have to keep your
top on! What if---“
Now
Misty was the only woman Ash had ever known, in the Biblical sense, and so he
had nobody to compare her with. Even a normal teenaged preoccupation with porn
hadn’t really happened with Ash so scarred had he been from a preadolescence
spent with Brock. But despite his inexperience and shyness, he truly thought
his lover the most beautiful woman to ever exist; an over-idealised Classical
statute come to life; perfection sans penis.
But
he didn’t know quite what to think right now.
“Don’t
you like it?” came
Misty’s voice from behind the tiny scrap of scary black leather shiny buckles
squeaking tight thingy argh.
Ash
exhaled. What had she done? Waltzed into a sex shop and bought the sleaziest
thing on offer? The image burned itself onto his retinas, the quote, outfit,
unquote, bold against Misty’s naturally pale skintone. It was wrong, it was
unclean – he’d have to wash his eyes out.
On
the other hand, he couldn’t quite bring himself to avert his gaze…
Misty
shuffled from one foot to the other, uncomfortable in the prolonged silence and
scrutiny. She also felt uncomfortable in the basque. She would have much
preferred a pair of matching pastel undies. Besides, it’s far easier to walk
into Anne Summers or La Senza than a shop proclaiming itself ‘SexToys R Us’.
But Cosmopolitan sets the rules, and the rules must be obeyed – if anything was
going to get through to Ash, it would be shock tactics.
“What
do you think?” she
prompted him again. Ash finally tore his gaze back to her face, his own
slightly flushed and dewy. Misty tried to straighten her expression back from
discomfort into Confident Vamp. Ash frowned at her.
“I
think you should take that thing off!” he huffed; Misty’s shoulders slumped slightly,
dejectedly. Ash couldn’t really help a sudden grin, pressing his lips together
as she arched a questioning eyebrow at him. “…for more ways than one…” he
finished his earlier sentence, the grin breaking out of his control.
In
the blink of an eye, Misty found herself lying on a pillow-laden bed, Ash
smirking as he stood over her. She smiled. When he wanted to be, the boy was
good! When Ash leant over to kiss her, Misty held him there until they were
forced to break apart for the necessity of oxygen. She couldn’t stop smiling –
it had worked! Her old Ash was reawakening, and he seemed to be better than
ever!
“Wait
a minute,” Ash
crawled back off the bed and stood up straight again. “I’ve gotta make sure
the room is secure.”
“Oh,”
was all
Misty could manage, panting slightly. “Oh. Well. Yeah, I guess that’s…
sensible. Yeah.”
Wading
through the cushions, Ash firmly drew the thick curtains shut. Misty rearranged
herself on the bed and held her arms out to him, invitingly. He shot her a
distracted smile.
“Not
secure yet. Just hold that thought, love, okay?”
Misty
sighed as Ash busied himself thoroughly checking under every bit of furniture,
muttering to himself, turning picture frames over and tracing all the
electrical wires.
Feeling
decidedly less amorous, Misty threw on one of the complimentary kimonos and
reached for her magazine, only pausing in her devout reading to throw scowls
over the top of it.
()()()()()()()()()()
“Ohohoh! Look darling! A SWING! WHEEEEEEE!”
A thoroughly excited Duplica launched herself at the
restraining apparatus.
“Now baby,” Brock chided mildly. “Don’t
wear yourself out! Come and help me unpack.”
Pouting, Duplica hopped down from the device. “Don’t
bother pretending,” she giggled. “I know all you packed is stuff to go straight
in the bedside cupboard!”
“Ah, but thus is the beauty of this hotel, my flower!” Brock
grinned as he tugged the zip on his suitcase. “We can leave stuff lying
around without fear that one of my brothers or sisters will pick it up! No
matter how filthy!” Brock’s grin widened; Duplica grinned impishly at him.
“Anything to drink?” she purred.
()()()()()()()()()()
“I’m
telling you, it was ridiculous,” Misty couldn’t help sniffing as she relayed her day
down the phone. There was a muffled sort of silence on the other end of the
line – she could only assume Violet was attempting to conceal her amusement.
“And
he was at this how long?”
“Oh,
I’d say at least an hour and a half. He even dismantled the bedside clock at
one point. And even then he was all jumpy, suspicious.”
Violet
sighed. “God, that boy needs like, therapy! And then what?”
Misty
hesitated. “Then we… he… well…”
“Well?”
Violet
prompted.
“He
couldn’t… get the… basque thing… off…”
There
was a confused silence.
“The…
basque? Was there no… like, zip…?”
“Apparently
not one suitably obvious for Ash. I think it’s offended his masculinity. He
went into a huge strop, stormed into the bathroom and he’s been in the shower
since.” Misty
sighed deeply. “It’s pretty clear that the closest I’m gonna get to sex is
peeling the complimentary mint off Ash’s cheek when he falls asleep on it.”
Violet’s
sigh matched that of her sister. “Well, you can’t choose who you fall in
love with. I think you should just leave him to his like, hour-long shower and
head down to the bar. There’s gotta be one, a hotel is like, a hotel. Booze is
never hard to find.”
“Yeah,”
Misty said,
decidedly as she glanced at the en suite door. “I’d feel better with a
little alcohol in me.”
“You
need like, something in you!” Violet giggled. Misty rolled her eyes.
“Okay,
heading down now. Thanks.”
“Okay
baby sis, like, have a drink on me! Ciao!”
Violet’s
voice was gone – back was the all-encompassing drone of the showerhead. Misty
frowned as she surveyed the room. Whereas before it had been exotic and
promising, it just looked crumpled and tacky. Her gaze lingered on the closed
bathroom door.
“A
woman has needs,” she murmured, forcing her expression into a scowl. Scooping up the room
key from the bedside table, she headed out of the door, slamming it behind her
for good measure. She didn’t even pause when the gilt D came loose at the top
and swung from its one remaining screw, rasping against the wood.