All too soon the convention was closing. Sadly, reluctantly, they made their way towards the exits. They made it to the train station in plenty of time to catch the last train home.
Or would have. A fatality on the line meant that all services had been cancelled until further notice.
“Fuck,” Claire expressed succinctly. “What the hell do we do now?” The convention was hundreds of miles from home, and they would be stuck in this town until the next day at best.
“I suppose we’ll have to find a hotel or something,” Simon muttered. Money wouldn’t be an issue, he thought – not with Claire’s family background – but availability was a whole different problem. People would have come from across the country to this event, and everything was surely booked out months ago.
They walked the streets, and true enough, hotel after hotel was full due to the convention. The sun was starting to go down; a chill started to creep into the air. The skin-tight Lycra costumes were somewhat unforgiving.
“Okay, look, let me try something,” Claire said, after they struck out for the umpteenth time. “Stay outside at the next place, let me talk to them on my own.”
Simon shrugged but let her do her thing. She was inside for ten minutes or more, but when she reappeared it was with a big grin. “Got one. It’s not much, but it’s something.”
“How did you manage that?”
“Played the little-girl-lost card. I’m all alone in a strange city, I’m worried about what might happen to me out on the streets alone. That kind of thing. The duty manager was a woman, she looked at my costume, understood, and made a room available.”
“Thank god Iron Girl only uses her powers for good, otherwise watch out world!”
They had a few drinks, probably a few too many truth be told, in a local bar. Then, giggling, they made their way through the hotel to the room Claire had managed to snaffle.
It was very much a last-chicken-in-the-shop sort of room. A single bed, a chair, and a dingy bathroom. A room used by staff on a late shift, not meant for guests.
To Simon’s mind, there was no question of what the sleeping arrangements should be. “I’ll take the chair,” he insisted, grabbing a couple of towels and a spare sheet from the wardrobe to wrap around himself.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive”, he said. It was the chivalrous thing to do.
It was late, they were tired. They agreed to turn in for the night.
“Um, Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“I, um, well I’ve not got any nightwear with me.”
“Nor have I. I’ll just sleep in my pants, it’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, well, about that. You know how tight this outfit is, right?”
“I am aware.” He’d spent most of the day trying to tear his eyes away from her ass.
“So, you must realise I’m totally nude inside it. I can’t possibly wear anything underneath; it would ruin the effect. So, I’m gonna be naked in a moment, and I’m gonna have to stay that way all night. I just don’t want you to freak out.” Not again.
“Thanks for the warning, but I think I’ll be okay. I haven’t exploded since the last time I saw you with no clothes on.” Not unless you count the mini explosions I have every night when I think back to it, he thought to himself.
“Okay,” she said, peeling the Lycra from her body. “Hey, turn round, stop staring!”
“Sorry,” he said surprised. He closed his eyes. He didn’t see how it mattered; her body had basically been on show all day, and she’d taken great pride in revealing herself to him last time. Was she regretting that, now? Didn’t she fancy him any longer? Simon didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. But he waited until he heard the duvet rustling before opening his eyes again. The light was out; he could only see shadows of her prone form under the sheets.
“Goodnight, Claire,” he said.
“Goodnight, Simon. See you tomorrow.”
He sat in the chair, trying to will himself to sleep, but it was just too difficult. The room was cold and getting colder; the towels and sheets completely ineffective against the draught blowing through the cheap lousy room. And he was extremely conscious of there being a gorgeous naked girl lying within arm’s reach of where he sat. He shuffled, trying but failing to find a comfortable position.
Claire lay in the bed, waiting. Any other guy she knew would already be beside her, if not inside her; poking her ass with their cock, feeling up her tits. She was grateful Simon wasn’t like that, and yet at the same time she was a little frustrated, insulted even. How dare he be so gentlemanly when she’d spent the day prancing and flexing in that bodysuit, right next to him. Reminding him that she was about to get naked, planting that thought in his head. Teasing him when he snuck a peek. She had to admit she was impressed with his self-control, but that kind of restraint was doing nothing for her libido.
Simon jumped as he felt Claire’s hands reach out to stroke his arm. Her touch was so warm.
“Jesus, you’re freezing!” she exclaimed. “Come here, get under the duvet,” she begged, impressed with herself that she managed to make it sound like a humanitarian gesture rather than the call of a horny teenager.
“I’m okay, there’s not enough room, you take it,” he insisted.
“That’s bollocks and you know it. Snuggle up beside me, we can both fit. It’s not like you’ve not touched me before.”
No, he admitted. But this is different. This is all night, our bodies pressed against each other. I have more chance of sleeping sitting over here.
But Claire insisted, pulling him from the chair. He relented, slipped under the duvet behind her, enveloped by the warmth. He spooned in behind her, trying to avoid touching her – partly because he was so cold and didn’t want to shock her, but mostly because he didn’t want to push his rock-hard cock against her ass. It felt rude, and presumptuous; he couldn’t take the risk that she’d assume he was trying to molest her, when his hardness was just a natural reaction he couldn’t control and that wasn’t his intention at all. He could restrain himself, but there was nothing he could do to quell the hard-on, no matter what he tried. It didn’t mean he was expecting anything.
Things only got worse when she reached behind, found his free arm, and drew it around herself, laying his hand against her taut stomach, his arm laying in the valley of her waist. He was very conscious that the slightest movement of his hand would cause him to touch her in what might be considered an inappropriate way – a fraction up and he’d be fondling her boob, down and it would slip between her legs. He daren’t move. He knew that if he felt that soft flesh, he wouldn’t be able to control himself.
Claire lay there, frustrated. For fuck’s sake, Simon, what’s it going to take for you to make a move? She started to wriggle, rub her ass backwards against his cock which she was delighted to find was at full attention, and shrugged her arms to force his hand up towards her tits. Eventually, his cold thumb made contact with her round firm chest; she shivered – from the cold, from the excitement – as she felt his hand almost involuntarily curl around the curve of her breast.