By the middle of the afternoon on the next day, Erica and Jolene were quite tipsy. They had started the day with good intentions and swam for a while in the large, indoor pool. Fitted out in their hotel-provided, one-piece swimming costumes, they both had their share of admiring looks from fellow guests and staff, although Erica had to concede that her newfound friend drew the greater amount of attention, as her costume had the greater struggle to contain the flesh of her ample breasts and the rounded cheeks of her arse.
After their swim, they had sweated for a while in the steam room before moving to the Swedish sauna, but their good intentions began to falter when they accepted glasses of champagne before and after their aromatherapy massage. This seemed to have whetted their appetites for several glasses of wine during their light lunch of roasted cauliflower salad with a creamy avocado dressing. Then, thinking it wouldn’t be wise to be seen drinking so early by their partners, or other employees of the Corporation, they retired to Jolene’s bedroom and had room service bring them a bottle of Bollinger in an ice bucket.
“What was Hargreaves saying to you last night?” asked Erica. Both young women had kicked off their shoes and were sitting on the bed drinking the champagne while the television played music videos on mute. Jolene was…
