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|The Girl in the Lift (standard:mystery, 2928 words)|
|Author: Earl||Added: Mar 28 2001||Views/Reads: 2871/1128||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A visit to a hotel on business results in Peter meeting his ideal woman, or does it?|
The hotel door opened effortlessly and Peter walked into the foyer. "Hello, Mr.Dean" said the receptionist, a slim attractive brunette called Lara, "Just for tonight, isn't it?". "That's right!" he replied. She leant over the counter with a registration slip and her blouse gaped open between two buttons, revealing a strip of black lace and the tanned velvet of her skin. "Sign here please, Mr.Dean.........Thank you... Room 105... Would you like a hand with your luggage?". "No, thanks, Lara, it's only an overnight bag", he said bravely as it weighed about a hundredweight! The lifts were around the corner from the reception desk, two of them with brushed aluminium doors. He pressed the lift button. "Please be the lift on the right", he thought. The lift bell pinged, followed by the right hand door sliding open. There she was! The girl in the lift. The lift had on it's walls pictures of the hotel, but the right hand lift had a picture that was missing from the lift on the left, showing the gymnasium, and in it, on an exercise bike, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had flowing black hair and a peach like complexion and her big red lips broke into a smile, revealing perfect teeth. Her eyes shone with a youthful alertness that had deserted his features years ago. Her figure, well displayed by a leotard, was perfect. She was smiling to an adonis like character on an exercise machine of some sort. Peter had never been within 200 yards of such instruments of torture, spending his time in bars, drinking and smoking too much, and striking up conversations with anyone near. Solo business travel had sharpened his ability to spot other single business travellers and start conversations, deducting, over the years, some considerable sum from his wallet and added a considerable distance to his girth. When he looked at the girl again with her slim, wasp like waist and down at his own spare tyre, the feeling of being remote from his ideal woman was overpowering. "To hell with it!" he said to the empty corridor as he made his way to Room 105. He had not stayed in this room before, usually finding himself on one of the upper floors. He booked his accommodation through an agency at a fixed rate, finding himself in whatever room is empty at the time. Today he had one of the most expensive suites in the place with private bathroom, sitting room, an enormous bedroom with a king-size bed and two televisions. Peter as he put down his bag and lay on the huge bed. The softness of the bed enveloped him as the weariness of the journey from the north washed over him. He quickly stripped and slid between the cool sheets and fell into a light sleep. A knock at the door snapped Peter to full wakefullness, "OK, I'm coming" he called and, putting on the complementary bathrobe, he made his way to the door. He looked at his watch, seven fifteen, "Just time for a quick shower and down for dinner" he thought and opened the door. As the door swung open he started to speak, "Yes I......", he stopped dead. His heart was racing and he caught his breath. He felt weak at the knees. It was her, it was the girl in the lift. She looked more beautiful than anyone Peter has ever seen before. She spoke with a soft Scottish accent. "I'm sorry to disturb you but I lost a bracelet last night whilst I was staying in that room. The hotel say nothing's been found but I'm sure it's in there, I wonder if..?" "Yes, of course, please, come in,....come in!" spluttered Peter. Click here to read the rest of this story (261 more lines)
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