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Hotel Arcadia | Edogawakun | 6 of the room. Once the majesty of the bathroom lost its shock value, the absence of practical resources - like soap - took precedence. Before alerting the front desk with a possible nonsense call, it seemed better to move under the light and take a quick glance around. On your second trip around, a small, golden circle in the wall flashes a gleam of light into your eye. Upon closer inspection, you find three connected breaks in the wall and the wall section they surround embedded slightly - the framework of a closet with a sliding door. Admittedly, it's a magnificent design for the room. It juts in only an inch or so, and the slits in the wall double as the outlines for two trees and their foliage, making the closet nearly invisible unless someone's right on top of it and looking for it specifically. Even the handle seems like no more than an additional berry sprouting from a bush. Slightly inconvenient, but the mystique and ambiance it aided more than compensated.

Conversely, the insides were nothing aesthetically pleasing, but no less surprising. In addition to the hotel basics (soap, extra towels, sewing kits, etc.), there was a whole shelf of bath salts, catering to every purpose imaginable, and on the door is a list of recommended combinations. That settled it, you think, I'm taking a bath. After the nonstop hours you spent driving in your cramped car, you thought it ludicrous to subject yourself to any further torturous strain, but were hesitant at the prospect of lying in a pool of your own filth. Now that these little items and a list of instructions were added to the equation, it wasn't even a debate. The aromas, the ease, the feelings; the thought alone has your head spinning and your outstretched hand frequently missing the bath faucet.

The full bath was radiating wisps of steam, yet the temperature felt ideal along every inch of your body. The so-called "house blend" was already earning its name and filling the room with a natural, slightly fruity scent. Now the scene adorning the walls seemed real to the nose as well. It almost seemed like the scents were emanating from the appropriate spot, even from the women and satyrs. The combination even suspended you in the water, stopping your plunge at about the halfway point as though you were as light and small as a canary feather. You would have called it the best feeling ever if your foot hadn't slipped during a slight adjustment: the fortunate accident triggered the water jets. Although, calling them jets was a stretch, strictly a technical term. Each one seemed to realign itself naturally, aiming the stream at your tense areas, and the contact felt nothing like water. It was more like hands, giving a full, proper massage from the most intuitive masseuses ever to walk this planet. Even your pussy was beginning to ache under the precise stimulation. With a content sigh, you throw your head back and gently close your eyes.

"You going to sleep on me, ?" a sultry voice whispers.

Surprised, you snap your eyes open and turn your head towards the voice's origin. As you roll, the texture against your head clearly isn't the granite of the tub, but also not the water. You don't want to say "solid" since it's spongy and bouncy in all but two spots, but it's certainly more solid than a liquid in its entirety. In fact, the whole room seems different. The scene along the walls no longer looks like an artist's sweat and toil manifest, but a deep, vibrant forest concealing the industrialized world. The natural pool has vanished from sight, though it must be close, the waterfall is still within earshot. Wait, sound? How could you hear an already dry painting? And is that...giggling? From someplace different than the voice from before?

Finally turned around, your visions is consumed by your strange substance: the loveliest pair of bronzed breasts you've ever spied. The curve was pronounced, but not suddenly and drastically jutting out of her chest in spite of being at least a D cup. Perfect for cradling someone, be it a lover or a child. The light pink nipples were clear against them, but not gigantic and detracting, and they were both pointing just over your forehead. Your tongue licks across your lips, eager to see the owner of this majesty, and freeing your mind of all prior confusions. It doesn't even shock you to see the familiar face of the woman herself.

The ruby red hair reaching to her shoulders would have been enough of a hint, even before seeing that mane drenched and carefully thrown backwards along a frame free of tan lines. However, first and foremost you noticed the button nose and tender look in her deep green eyes, making the connection there instead. This woman, whoever she is, was one of the bathers on your bathroom wall. The only reason you didn't realize it sooner was the artist's use of tree leaves left her perfect boobs hidden - and sadly, the water and your own gaze continue concealing everything beneath her slim waist, though you do recall a toned pair of legs leading towards her when she was on the wall. Her lips may be ordinary, but the soft smile makes them shine brilliantly under the low moonlight, and seem to stoke the fire in your loins by itself. Although, that growing itch may be the work of her hands, firmly rubbing with practiced familiarity along your back, neck, and...legs. Does she have four hands?

"Told you she was soft, Lexi," says another voice.

Rising from the water like a siren, and with your left leg in her smooth hands, is another of the bathers on your wall. This one petite with milky white skin. Amazingly, her chest is even paler, and has tan lines - practically in meaning only, given her skin tone - outlining her preference of something like short sleeved crop tops. If not for her deep red nipples, it would have made her platinum blonde hair look dirty by comparison. The shorter curls of her bangs are strewn across her face, while the longer locks lay along her back and arms before fanning out in the pool. Like her partner, Lexi, the water shields her from the waist down, and her hands are bringing you closer to orgasmic bliss; perhaps her hands are even better, more attentive to your sweet spots and perfectly applying pressure. Unlike Lexi, you recall this woman didn't need convenient natural cover when she was only paint, as she was busy concealing her frame while her eyes looked for signs of peepers. Her newfound confidence apparently removed the rosy hue from her full cheeks, but this loss didn't diminish the beauty of her thin, hazel eyes or pouty pink lips.

"She could just be worn out, Heather," Lexi answers.

Dropping your leg, Heather says, "That better not be true, !"

Slowly, carefully, Heather swims between your now spread legs, her eyes locked with yours the whole time. You crane your neck towards her and spread your lips, feeling your heart beat faster with each twitch until your lips finally meet. Her palms push you back and put her on top. Her fingers expertly rub the sides and bottom of your boobs. And her thumbs massage your teats to full attention. Light nibbles on your bottom lip make you mew for more.

But that breaks the moment.

Once you broke the seal, water rushed into your mouth to fill the void. Only then do you realize Heather knocked you under the water. You break the kiss completely and flail your arms, looking for the bottom of the pool, only to feel nothing but water. Since you can't prop yourself above the water, you push yourself up and out. After clearing your lungs, the first sight to greet you is Heather, her hands unmoved even after all this. She swam back a step, but only slightly, enough to let you breathe while still being able to support each other in the deep pool. No doubt she wants to continue, this time above the water.

"So I guess you're joining the rest of us, right Heather?" Lexi asks.

"What?" you two ask together.

Finally eye level with her, the scene beyond Lexi could be seen over her shoulder. There lays the noisy waterfall, and several more girls, all evoking memories of your bathroom wall. The girls are grouped together, all in mixes of two, three, or four, and each clearly flirting with the other members of their group while stealing glances at the others. Some are still bathing, others involved in a massage, while the rest are playing around in one way or another while giggling.

"'Join us,'" Lexi answers with a grin. "A bunch of us were going to hit the spring's beach and give our audience something to REALLY look at. You're clearly ready."

Heather says, "'Audience'? What audience? We have an audience?" Her pace was almost too quick to catch, and her face is already a darker shade of red than Lexi's hair. Her hands tightened against your flesh to a painful level, trembling with each breath.

"A bunch of them in the trees, a few behind some bushes."

Yelping, Heather sank like a stone, hiding herself completely before swimming off to the waterfall. Despite the somewhat long distance, Heather emerged under the spray of the waterfall in just a few seconds. And then she disappeared behind it.

"She's still so shy," Lexi says, turning to you. "Shame, too. She's so wild otherwise. We have to get her out of that alcove and have fun with the rest of us. After we mess with the voyeurs, we go to work on her, right?"


See what the group's doing? Try to convince Heather to join the fun? Perhaps something else?


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