Katelyn’s Awakening — Katelyn Spencer Travel Girls Series (Book 1)

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— This excerpt is the first chapter of my new series Katelyn Spencer, a Travel Girls Series erotica story. —

I was already fifteen minutes late getting out the door — juggling make-up, coffee, and driving — I spent too much time online this morning looking up things to do in Europe. A few months back I was partying with my girlfriends, my best friend Jessica brought up the idea that we all should tour Europe for a few weeks. It was a great idea, and I could use the break. We were so jazzed that we all committed to three months traveling and bought our plane tickets the next day. Our departure date was getting close — a week from today — and I just needed to finish up with this last client before I said good-bye America and bonjour Paris.

Jessica and I have been friends since we were in high school, and she hasn’t changed much since then. She’s always been beautiful whatever she’s doing. Once, after a twelve mile hike, Jessica was barely sweating, I would say she was glistening in the sun, while I looked like a swamp monster. A crew of firefighters had been running the desert trails behind us and when they caught up to us, the hunky first-responders did what they do best, respond. The next thing I know, against all my embarrassment, we were all getting fruit smoothies. A week later Jessica was gushing with dirty details about her date with the lieutenant. “Forbidden fruit is the sweetest squeeze.” She would say to me

Jessica has always been there for me, we know too many of each other’s secrets, so I know we’ll be best friends forever. Actually, I know a lot of her secrets, I don’t have many, my life has been, well vanilla. She’s my most encouraging friend, even if sometimes her encouragement stands on my shoulder dressed in a sexy devil outfit. Sometimes I’m reluctant, but even when I was hesitant to go to Europe, she convinced me that travel is just what I needed. I’ve been working on opening up my shell, and to dispel my reservations. I wouldn’t say it’s a big problem, but sometimes I have difficulty handling what needs to happen. Like handling Mark.

“Jess!” I said into my phone. She was heckling me about Mark. I’d already agreed that I wasn’t into Mark, and that we needed to split, but I was dragging my feet. First, he was immature, and the sex was well, high school. And I knew I was too soft to directly confront the situation.

“Hey girl.” Jessica said. She was in the salon getting her mani-pedi, I could hear the gabbing ladies over hairdryers in the background. “You’ve said you’re not really into this guy. Okay, Katelyn, he’s a dumbass. And you haven’t had an orgasm in weeks.”

“I said Mark is a nice guy and I feel bad that he’s sort of limited.”

“Katelyn Spencer, I command by best friend decree, you need to let him go. Cut him off. Adios babes!”

“I guess I need to just tell him.”

“Yes you do. But just in case, let’s be practical.” Jessica put on her lawyer tone. “Imagine running into a tall and dark man who’s just fresh from a shower after a workout, after saving a cat from a tree, and volunteering at an orphanage, all at the same time. Because it’s going to happen. Do you want to pass up this incredible hunk for someone you’re not going to be with when you come home? Better now than later.”

“Sounds convincing Jess.” I laughed.

“Let him down gently. Tell him your time together was perfect, but — ” She drew out her last word. “You know. And then give him some breakup sex that will make his future girlfriends jealous. That’s what I would do.”

“That’s what you did Jessica!” I retorted.

“Oh yes. Travis. So strong. Screws like a rabbit. But honey, he’s just one dumb bunny.”

I laughed again. An image of Travis’s muscular body flashed across my mind. I never spent much time around him, but I knew Jessica’s relationship with him was just physical, and given Travis had his baseball career to focus on, we all knew it was just a fling. She once told me that he was a professional ball player, which qualified him as a professional at handling big wood, I’ve heard the details.

“Do it like a band-aid.” She said.

“Okay, like a band-aid then follow up with mind blowing sex, and then run.” Sounded like a perfect plan to me, at least Jessica convinced me. “I’m at the house. I’ll let you go, got to get to work.”

Thanks to a friend, I’d fallen into a professional house care-taking job, she started a business and needed employees, luckily for her, I needed a job.

“Okay sweetie. Chat later you little minx.”

“Who’s calling who a minx?”

Jessica laughed playfully. “No boys over Katelyn.” And hung up.

I parked my small two seater in front of the client’s home, pulled out the agency account envelope, a key and some instructions were inside. I was very happy that the house was in a nice part of town, quite neighborhood, affluent architecture. The house was modern on the outside, recessed from the street, and look like the yard had been manicured on the regular, it was in perfect condition. I had a few things of my own to do before the trip, and it was a godsend that there wasn’t a long list of tasks to manage.

I stepped up to the front door with my rolling luggage, I wouldn’t have been surprised if a grand piano could easily slide through the entrance. I turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door of steel and smoked glass.

I stepped into the vestibule where I came face to face with my reflection in the walled mirror opposite the door, surrounded on both sides by nude and headless marble statues, a voluptuous female, and a matching male, the details were astonishingly real. You’d be surprised how many of my clients installed nude figures in their houses. But what caught my eye was how I missed half my makeup in the rush over here.

I quickly found the alarm and punched in the security code, then wheeled in my rolling luggage which I planned to live out of for a week. All my earthly belongings were at Jessica’s place, waiting for me until we left.

I looked down at instructions from the agency envelope, it was filled with standard requests. I looked around the house and started to check off the duties and familiarize myself with the place. I was finishing my scan and read the special requests section of the instructions, “Please refrain from entering the study.” That should be no problem, why would I need to go in there?

Passing the vestibule into the vaulted living area, a sudden sense of good feelings came over me. I loved modern houses. If and when I ever owned a house, I wanted it to be chic and modern like this place. I started fantasizing about holding my own parties here, I imagined we would all gather around sipping wine, with some jazz playing in the background. I would wear that black and gold silk dress that I found, but didn’t buy, the other day with Jessica. All of us dressed to show off, but no plans to go out, instead to be catered to by a butler. What bliss.

I moved further into the house, counting the few plants in the living room that needed tending. I admired the beautiful fine velvety white furniture, impossible for me to sit on, I was afraid of leaving any mark on them. Three sofas surrounded the sides of a thick white shag carpet. A chandelier descended from the ceiling below the second floor loft and seemed to float in the center of the room like an iridescent saucer. Looking out through the glass rear wall into the backyard area a stunning aquamarine infinity pool shimmered in the sun.

These were the perks. Every time I walked into my clients homes it always made me feel good. It was like moving into a new place every job. I’d just wound up treating my studio apartment as a closet while I slept on my clients Egyptian cotton sheets. And I’d watch their cinema style entertainment systems. I was getting paid to live in luxury and I could live with that.

The kitchen was spotless. I set my purse, papers, and coffee down on the counter. I checked the stainless steel refrigerator, it was stocked. That was nice of them, I thought. Actually, I didn’t even know how many people lived in this house, there was just one contact on the sheet, a Mr. Lamar.

Who was Mr. Lamar? If experience watching houses had anything to say about it,he was likely an older work-absorbed man, a banker, business man, or lawyer. It was just never my luck that my client happened to be a celebrity.

This house, so far, looked relatively sparse and clean, probably no children. The kitchen had high quality cookware, and a quality knife set, a stocked wine cooler, and a stainless steel stove to match the refrigerator.

I moved on from the kitchen, peered in the comfort room downstairs, and made my way up the floating staircase with my luggage. I peered into the master bedroom, clean, and large enough to park a car, but it was cold. It was decorated with a table and chairs, two night stands next to the king size bed, it looked very unlived in, but expensive.

The view from the master bedroom balcony was gorgeous. I could see right off the cliff onto the cityscape, right over the inviting infinity pool. The weather was supposed to be “a scorcher” according to Todd the weather guy. I snapped a few photos with my phone and shot one off to Jessica. She liked it so much she suggested organizing a party, but she knows I can’t do that in a clients home, which of course never stops her from trying. I had to reminder her that I play by the rules, they’re there for a reason, and in true Jessica fashion she said “Jess, rules are meant to be broken.”

The spare room which would be my room for the week, was the last door on the second floor. I made my way there passing what I thought was the study, the door was slightly ajar so I just took a quick peek through the gap, it looked study like. I rolled my luggage into the spare room and set it up next to the door. There was a vase of dandelions on a table and a note saying thanks for keeping house and to make myself comfortable. What a cute touch.

I grabbed my toiletry bag headed into the attached bath and I was giddy. It was like being in a classy hotel. There was a separate shower with rain nozzle and tub, huge back-lit mirror, and beautiful modern fixtures. All this was perfect.

I found myself quickly comfortable in the house and wanted to relax before getting to the work on the agency’s to-do list, so, I decided I should take a dip in the gorgeous pool. I grabbed my white and purple flowered bikini, not sexy, but so cute and on sale. I disrobed in front of the wall mirror and put on my bikini. Not bad Katelyn, I’d been sporadically attending yoga, and I thought it showed. But that bikini has got to change, I couldn’t take this horrid style to Europe.

I grabbed the top towel from the stack of fluffy white towels in the bathroom and headed out to the pool. A sound from the study caught my attention as I walked through the bedroom door.

“Hello?” I said at the study door. “Anyone there?”

There was no reply.

I tried to see through the gap in the door, but could see very little, maybe there were some bookshelves. My curiosity did not abate.

“Hello?” I called again and waited.

No reply.

I nudged the door open a little bit. I should investigate in case something fell. I sure didn’t want to be held accountable for any damages.

“Hello?” I asked one last time, but there was only silence.

I pushed again on the door, it opened a few feet. I stuck my head inside. My nose tingled, a musky fragrance caught me off guard. I took another sniff to figure it out, but the more I sniffed, the more it took me over.

It was like an old aroma, like a cigar shop, a citrus undertone, a manly whiskey scent. The aroma was like a hand reaching out lifting and pulling me inside by my nose.

I was already maybe ten feet in the study before realizing I was even inside. This room did not belong in this house, there were wooden bookshelves crammed with books, a globe sat in the corner, and artifacts cluttered the tables and spaces on the bookshelves that weren’t already filled. And there was an overwhelming number of picture frames on the walls, like a photo journal of Mr. Lamar’s life. The whole room felt warm and comfortable, even if the temperature hadn’t changed. I’d started looking at the photos, completely absorbed, and I had simply forgotten I was wearing a bikini intending to swim.

Every photo had women, gorgeous women in them. And a recurring man, either in a tuxedo, or swim wear, in ever one. He was a handsome older man, with salt and pepper hair, a defined face, and a very attractive lean muscular body. He seemed classy, and serious, but all the woman, who looked half his age were jovial. If this was Mr. Lamar, I approved, he was a hot piece of ass, Jessica would say.

I continued to peruse the study, it was like antiquing, and I could be sorting through this stuff all day. I wasn’t even looking for what had fallen at this point, I’d forgotten about that too. The room was just filled with too many interesting things.

I came around to the couch centered just a few feet in front of a desk that looked built from an old corsair ship. The couch looked inviting, soft velvety leather, unlike the white couches in the living room, this one looked well-worn in. I’ll just try it out.

I sat down on the couch and a similar alluring fragrance billowed up around me. I took a moment and closed my eyes to enjoy the aroma that was turning me on, like I was nuzzled into the body of a strong sexy lumberjack in front of a fire on a cold day.

Let’s try that character guessing game, again, I thought. Who are you Mr. Lamar?

I sat back into the couch, piecing together what he looked like from photos around, and started day dreaming what he was like. In that moment he came through the door, I imagined. And he was beautiful, his body in loose clothes, bronzed from too much sun. He moved on top of me, supporting himself above with his arms. I was held prisoner against the couch, a willing prisoner.

My eyes closed and I slid to my back on the couch, imagining his body consuming my space, he pushed with his powerful leg to separate mine. Without thought, I parted my legs and slid my hand over my bikini, I imagined his thigh gently rubbing over my mound while I massaged and felt myself moistening.

A thought flashed through my mind, reminding me that I was violating his rule, don’t enter the study. It was innocent trespassing, right? But my imagination had run wild, he was on top of me naked, telling me it was okay. My hand slid under my bikini, I parted my lips and massaged at the pace of his throbbing cock pressing against me. The heat rose in my cheeks and set my chest afire, my back arched. His head dipped down, I could smell the fragrance on his skin, I inhaled and he whispered in my ear, I can feel you inside. My fingers dipped in, he was inside of me, he was hitting all the right spots, stroke after stroke, after stroke, after stroke. My eyes rolled up I was close to climax, but how I wished for a real cock to just bring me all the way. He continued to thrust, reaching deeper inside me, I continued to play with myself yearning for the real thing. He gathered me up into his big arms, hugging me against the couch and I came into shudders and then convulsed into orgasm.

Slowly opening my eyes I saw the room, my life was back as it was, but his fragrance still lingered. That was exciting, I thought. I fixed my bikini top, a little embarrassed of what just happened. That was so hot, I definitely need to cool down.

I took a quick shower then passed back by the study on my way to the pool, I stole a last look inside for memory’s sake, I didn’t imagine visiting the study again but I did want one last sniff of the musky fragrance. I closed the door exactly how I found it. Jessica would tell me that I would be in Europe in a week, never having met Mr. Lamar, not to worry, she’d say. Who would ever know you were inside the study?

The weather was shaping up despite the news forecast, the mid-morning sky was perfect with just a few clouds racing between the sun and earth, and their shadows spotted the pool. I explored the patio backyard and listened to the palms swaying in the wind while the birds merrily chirped away. This had to be a slice of paradise.

I was astonished by the pool area, more than before, a small catwalk led to the center of the water to a covered island sitting area with a low table and outdoor couches, it was sunk a few feet into the water, the pool overflowed into the island but disappeared at the bottom. It would have been a perfect backyard brunch spot.

I imagined having the girls over for a sip-and-bitch session, I’d serve mimosas and little finger foods, and we’d lounge on the pool island in those comfortable poolside chairs. I’d even bet there was an outside sound system. I’d bring that same butler from the living room party to wait on us outside all day. I chuckled.

I put one foot in the water, expecting a cold shock, but the water was cool and inviting, especially after my self-service upstairs in Mr. Lamar’s study. I stepped into the pool and then plunged in, the cool water flowing through my hair, and the feel of the pebbly smooth bottom, all my worries disappeared as if the water washed them away. I smiled, what a great mini-vacation before my vacation. Then I swam out towards the city.

My mind wandered as I looked out across the infinite distance to the cityscape along the horizon, imagining all the places we’d soon go to: Paris, London, Rome, Berlin, the Swiss Alps, Budapest, Croatia, and everything in between. I filled up with excitement, day dreaming about all their wonderful and intriguing differences.

I floated around for another half hour or so, enjoying the sun, day dreaming of Europe, but my mind kept thinking of Mr. Lamar, wishfully, I was imagining him inside me.

It was time to get to work on the house so I could get to my own. I was out of the pool grabbing my towel and inside before I notice, standing in the living room, a hooded black masked figure. I froze in shock.

The house was being robbed and I was standing there dripping wet in my bikini.

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