DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction and is intended for adult audiences only. If you'll be offended by explicit sexual situations, please stop reading. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is purely coincidence.

          May turned into June and the summer really started to feel like it was underway. Business at the club turned from mostly weddings and conventions into the normal vacation traffic and more and more of the club regulars began arriving in their summer/weekend homes and coming to the club for lunch and dinner. Breakfasts were still mostly hotel traffic and that kept things a little quieter in the mornings.
          Things between Molly and myself had turned from a "friends with benefits" relationship into something more serious and neither of us was seeing anyone else. We didn't sit down and have a heavy relationship talk, but both of us sensed that this was more than just a summer fling. We had so much in common and were having a great time just hanging out. Neither of us was complaining about the sex, either.
          All the kids at the club were nice this year, with a few exceptions, and they all knew what was going on and kept their distance. The occasional son of a club member or hotel guest would hit on Molly once in a while, but she was so sweet even when she was giving them the cold shoulder that nothing ever came of it. Although not really the jealous type, I think I noticed more of these guys hitting on her than she did. When outside lunches on the patio near the pool started, hormones among the club members (and probably staff) always got a little more revved up. The outside uniforms for the girls where a lot tighter fitting and more revealing than the stuffy attire we had to wear in the inside dining rooms.
          I don't know if it was coincidence or Louise sensing what was going on, but about three weeks into the season Molly and I suddenly had identical schedules, including days off. We had started the season on the same "team", but because so many staff were still coming and getting used to how the dining rooms ran for various shifts, some of the veteran staff had to be moved around to fill in various holes while everyone got up to speed. It usually took three weeks or so for things to settle down and this year was no exception. At that point, the schedules were usually set for a whole month, so Molly and I were very excited to have the whole month of June on the same schedule. We usually worked 6 days a week, but often only worked one shift on that sixth day. The breakfast-dinner weeks were the best because you really felt like you had two full days off, working breatfast on your "half day" and then not having to work again until breakfast two days later. It really was only a day and a half of free time, but it felt like more, especially after the first few hectic weeks while everyone was still learning.
          With two days off together each week and being on the same team, Molly and I had a lot of time together. Most of the time on our breakfast-dinner weeks, we'd spend the day at the beach or at her pool, get cleaned up at her house and then go to work for the evening. There would usually be some sort of party or gathering with kids from work after the dinner shift concluded. Some nights we would go to those and others we'd head to a late movie or find some place for a little alone time. Molly's parents were at their summer home a little more now that the season was in full swing, but they'd often be back at their home in suburban Boston, too, so we'd sometimes be able to skinny-dip in the pool and enjoy the cabana which was even more enjoyable as the weather improved. Sometimes we'd head down to the private beach for a swim in Nantucket Sound, but the Sound was still pretty cold in June even on a 'good' night. We had fun warming each other up after those swims, though.
          In addition to our friendship, Molly and I also shared interests in the same sports. On our lunch-dinner weeks, we often try to get up early -- depending on the previous night's partying -- and go play tennis or golf. Evenings on our full days off were often spent driving around Cape to see various games of the Cape Cod Baseball League. I think that we made it to a game at every park in the league by the summer's end. Other nights we'd just park at a beach at night, spread a few blankets in the back of my pickup and watch the stars... with maybe a little sex in the mix if we found a quiet spot to park.
          After that one fabulous evening in May, there was little talk of Elizabeth. She sent a nice 'Thank You' note for me to work with Molly a couple of days after, but there wasn't any talk or mention of doing it again... much to my relief, actually. She was apparently was very sincere about only wanting to lose her viginity and not wanting anything more. Although she was gorgeous, she had a lot of the "rich girl" attitude that was totally absent from Molly's personality. Elizabeth was nice to me, but I had seen the way she sometimes treated other people at times when visiting Molly's home, and she wasn't nearly as sweet and caring as her sister. Hot? Hell, yes. Sweet? Not really.
          As July approached, Molly reminded me that she would be on vacation for ten days starting July 1st. Her mother had planned before the summer started to take both girls to Europe. While I would miss her a lot, it was going to be a great trip for them and they were staying a couple of nights each in London, Paris, and Rome with maybe a side trip if time permitted. I was pretty jealous actually, but was happy for her. It would be disappointing to not have her around over the 4th of July holiday, but we were usually busy at work then anyway and might not have a lot of time for fireworks and cookouts. I decided to use this chance to work a bit more and make some extra money, so I made it known to the other staff that I could pick up a shift or two. Louise frowned on people taking on 'triples', but after much jockeying of schedules, it just turned out to be two triples and I was a hero to a couple of kids who wanted to head home for the 4th. I also picked up two shifts on my day off. I hadn't really bonded too much with any of the guys on the staff, so it wasn't like I was going to miss out on "boys night out" or anything like that. There were always parties after work or kids going to local bars, so there was never a shortage of things to do in the evening.
          About two days before Molly left for vacation, one of my favorite regular guests showed up in the hotel. Mrs. Amanda Forsythe stayed in the best suite in the hotel in the "Towers" building for the entire month of July. She was married to a wealthy Boston attorney who rarely joined her. I had asked her the previous summer why she and her husband didn't just buy a place on the Cape and she indicated that she liked being pampered. She often had meals delivered to her room, sat by the pool or beach much of the day, and just totally unwound. If she had a home on the Cape, she said she'd likely end up doing most of her own cooking and cleaning and her husband was so busy with his practice that she would be alone in the house most of the time anyway. While her husband didn't join her much, her daughter -- Stephanie -- did, and they were quite the pair. Both drop-dead gorgeous, Mrs. Forsythe looked a lot like Sharon Stone with flowing blonde hair and a great body. In fact, she bore such a resemblance that hotel's guests sometimes asked for her autograph, much to her amusement. Stephanie was nearly a clone of her mother, but with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes. They both shared the same incredible body and sense of grace and if I didn't know better, I would have initially assumed they were sisters and not mother-daughter. The beach and pool lifeguards used to make sure to get out the word to the male staff if the pair were spotted pool- or beach-side as they were usually dressed "to the nines" in skimpy designer bathing suits. These two were the epitome of beauty and grace and -- much like my Molly -- didn't seem to let the wealth go to their heads. They were both very friendly and generous with tips, which also made them favorites of the staff. Since all guests and club members were on meal plans, there was very little cash and tips -- although generous at 18% -- were automatically factored into the meal checks. The Forsythe's were rare in that they often added cash tips, especially for room service, and especially for long-time staff members.
          In order to take ten days off, even though she had planned it at the beginning of the summer, Molly had to work right up until the day before she left. It didn't leave us much time to say goodbye, but the night before she left, the dinner shift was extremely slow. Luckily for Molly, she got to wait on Mrs. Forsythe and they had quite the chat. Most of the staff had at least one of their tables not show up for the evening, which made for a lot of extra time to pamper those that we did have. Molly didn't waste any time talking to Mrs. Forsythe, who was probably glad for the company as she was dining alone. I said a quick "Hello" to her as she recognized me from previous years. Down to earth as always, she asked me how my uncle (who also worked at the club) was doing and remembered many details of our previous talks. She ended up staying in the dining room nearly until closing and had a desert and a few after dinner drinks. Molly talked with her for a long time, so long that I decided to meet her at an after work party instead of driving her there. One of the other girls, Amy, had a late table as well and offered to drop Molly off at the party after they were both done.
          The party turned out to be a dud, so I drove Molly home. We hugged and kissed and she promised to write me while she was gone and send a few postcards, but I was sure she'd be back before I ever saw the cards or letters. It would have been pretty hard to coordinate talks on the phone with the time difference and my added work schedule, so we made out in the cab of my truck for a little bit. She hadn't even finished packing yet and had a 7 AM flight out of Logan the next morning.
          "Have a safe trip, sweetie," I said on her way up the walkway to the front door.
          "Don't have *too* much fun without me," she said with a smile and a wink as she went up the walk.
          Huh? Little did I know what was in store for me in the coming week.
          The next day was the first of my triple shifts for the week and as I was driving to work I was beginning to regret picking up the lunch shift from Tony already. It was a picture-postcard day and that meant that the patio would be packed for lunch. By the time breakfast was over, the beach, pool, and parking lot were nearly full and we had one of our busiest lunches of the summer. The only bright spot was that I waited on Mrs. Forsythe for lunch and she was her usual gorgeous self, even after several hours on the beach and by the pool. She looked like she had just stepped out of a spa from a day of unneeded beauty treatments. I didn't have much time to talk to her because we were so busy, but she left a $10 bill with her lunch check and that was much appreciated. I felt guilty taking the money though, because the kitchen was overwhelmed and service was horrible. Each of us had an extra table for the day, too, because it was so busy and we were barely keeping up, never mind spending a little extra time with even our favorite guests.
          Lunch ran late, so the club fed us between shifts and let us use the locker room to clean up a bit before dinner, a welcome change from normal policy. Most of the lunch crew looked pretty be-draggled after a 3-and-a-half hour lunch shift in the sun schlepping drinks and sandwiches.
          Dinner was pretty busy, but I was disappointed not to see Mrs. Forsythe at her usual table, even if it wasn't in my station. She was always well-dressed and usually brought a smile to the faces of the staff -- at least the male staff -- when she walked into the dining room.
          Thankfully, dinner ended on time for most but I had the last table in the dining room and was glad when they finally signed the check and headed for the lounge. Relieved that my first triple shift of the week was over, I said goodbye to Louise and headed for the door.
          "Could I ask a favor," she said as I passed by.
          Exhausted, but knowing I was the only one she could ask, I weakly replied, "Sure. What's up?"
          "Would you mind bringing the tray in the kitchen up to Mrs. Forsythe? Apparently she's having a late dinner in her room."
          My tiredness disappeared momentarily at the thought of the tip I was likely to get, so I grabbed the tray and headed for the Towers building. The tray was pretty heavy, as she'd ordered champagne and what appeared to be two dinners, although I didn't open the plate covers. Whatever it was smelled great. Wonder what the celebration was, I thought.
          I reached Room 505 after a quick elevator ride and adjusted the tray while I knocked on the door. Mrs. Forsythe answered in one of the hotels famous heavy cotton logo robes and ushered me in. She looked fabulous, although a little uncomfortable for some reason. Her hair was tied back and she had on very little make-up, but she looked great, especially for a woman her age. Stephanie was about my age, so unless she had her at 16, she was definitely around 40.
          "Nice to see you not so rushed. You didn't seem to have much time to chat at lunch today," she commented.
          "Sorry 'bout that. Thank you for the tip," I said. "That was kind of you considering the less than stellar service. The kitchen was a mess today. It's always like that for the first really good beach day. The patio was fairly quiet until today."
          "I could tell things were a little crazy, but it was such a lovely day at the beach... set the tray down over there... that I couldn't resist lunch on the patio. I'm afraid I overdid the sun a bit, though," she said, slightly lowering one shoulder of her robe revealing a moderate, but surely uncomfortable burn on her shoulders.
          "Ouch," I offered trying not to notice the amount of cleavage she was revealing. "Doesn't look too bad though. You're likely to feel better tomorrow, or the next day at the latest." With that, I began to head for the door.
          "Would you like something to eat," she offered.
          "Umm... Ahh... No thank you, Mrs. Forsythe, I should get home and get cleaned up. Long day."
          "Really... my eyes were bigger than my stomach when ordering. It'll just go to waste if you don't help me with it and I'm sure it's delicious. Come on... I won't bite."
          "I could get in trouble with the club, ma'am."
          "OK," she scolded. "First of all, when we're not in the club I'd like you to call me Amanda. 'Ma'am' is definitely out." A smile. "Second, no one is going to find out or get you in trouble for a bite to eat in my private room. The only one that knows you're here is Louise and she and I go way back. Thirdly, it'll be nice to have someone to talk to. I really hate eating alone, but I was a little too crispy from the sun to get dolled up for the dining room."
          With that she tugged on my arm and moved me over to the table. She opened the plate covers keeping the meal warm and revealed shrimp scampi and a bacon-wrapped filet mignon, two of the chefs specialties and coincidentally two of my favorites.
          "Alright," I said uncomfortably. I was starving and too tired to go home and root around in my parents fridge for some leftovers and the food smelled incredible. When the club did have to feed us, we usually got pretty good food, but not shrimp and the best cut of meat in the house.
          Mrs. Forsythe... Amanda... split the meal into two plates so that we each had a taste of each. Surf-N-Turf essentially. I dove in hungrily and had most of my meal finished before she was halfway through.
          "Would you be a dear and open that champagne? Pour two glasses, too," she added. "NO arguments!"
          "I really shouldn't, Mrs...," I started.
          "Amanda. And I know you're 21, so don't worry about it," she added.
          After opening the champagne and pouring two glasses, I handed one to Amanda and tried to nurse mine as best as I could. I don't really drink a lot and after having worked all day, even a couple of glasses of champagne would probably be more than I should have... even with food... if I was going to drive home.
          We finished the meal and sipped at champagne and talked. She was an amazing woman and before I realized it I had been in her room for an hour and had had at least two glasses of expensive Perrier-Jouet champagne. I was hoping no one from the club saw me enter and not leave. My truck was at the employee lot, but lots of kids left vehicles there if we went out to a bar or party together, so that wouldn't raise any eyebrows. Before I knew it, the bottle of champagne was empty and she was pulling another from the room's bar.
          "Amanda," I started uncomfortably, "I really have to go."
          "So soon," she asked. "We were just starting to have a nice conversation. Before you go, would you do me a favor? I know it's a lot to ask."
          "Umm... sure... I guess so," I said.
          "Could I get you to rub some of this sunburn lotion on my back? I wouldn't normally ask, but Stephanie's not here and I don't want to end up peeling." She moved to the table by the bed and grabbed a bottle of some skin creme.
          "Umm... that doesn't sound like a good idea...", I started feeling the effects of the champagne a bit.
          "Please? There's no one else I can ask here and I did just buy you a $35 dinner," she pleaded playfully.
          "Alright... sure." I agreed, wondering how I was ever going to rub this woman down with lotion without ending up with a raging hard-on and getting myself fired for inappropriate behaviour. Hell... I was liable to get fired if someone didn't see me leave the room as it was. I took the lotion from her and she laid down on the bed. Throughout dinner, her robe had become more and more loose, occasionally giving me a peek at one of her full, firm breasts as she shifted during dinner. The robe practically fell off her back now as she laid face-down on the bed.
          "Would it be easier sitting up," I asked, hoping that that would be less erotic.
          "Nonsense. This is fine," she grinned, turning her head and meeting my eyes.
          I put some lotion in my hands to warm it up and then gingerly rubbed her shoulders and back, working the lotion in. The burn already looked better and was probably even on the mild side of moderate. I thought I was doing pretty well in the keeping my composure department when she suddenly started to moan a bit. The champagne was kicking in even more, and at this point my cock had a mind of it's own and quickly began to swell. Luckily Amanda was lying down and didn't seem to notice, but as I rubbed her back, the moans got a little louder. I pulled away and started to make my way to the door, erection still growing...
          ...when she rolled over.
          "I really should be going Mrs. For... Amanda...," but before I could back away far enough I actually tripped over something and fell right on my ass with a *thud*, hitting my head on the edge of a dresser or wardrobe type cabinet hard enough to see 'stars'.
          "Are you alright," she said, rushing over to me and not even bothering to cover herself, her entire upper body exposed, gorgeous breasts in full view and with the robe barely clinging to her hips.
          "Yes... ma'am... just embarassed and..."
          "You look a little uncomfortable," she said, pointing to my crotch.
          "It's just... my... head...really...."
          Now... I guess I should have seen this coming from a ways away, but call me dense. I never expected a 40-year-old goddess like this to even take a second glance at me. Now... much to my belated amazement... I had one that looked like a supermodel apparently trying to seduce me in her $250 a night hotel room after plying me with filet mignon, shrimp, and expensive champagne. My mind wasn't even registering the things going on around me and my eyes drifted to her fabulous breasts again.
          She helped me up and gave my crotch a passing fondle and led me toward the bathroom. She grabbed some ice from the champagne bucket and wrapped it in a washcloth for the lump on my head.
          "You must be filthy from your day at work," she started, reaching for my belt buckle and tugging off my pants before I knew it. "Let's clean you up."
          I pulled away and pulled my pants up -- rubbing my head as I went -- and headed for the door again. My brain was starting to catch up to reality. "Please, Mrs... I mean... Amanda. What's going on? I have a girlfriend and you're married and... umm... I've got to go...."
          "Yes. I know. You're dating and fucking the hell out of Molly. She told me you were cute, but I had no idea. In case it's just registering, I'm trying to seduce you, dear. Isn't that obvious? I'm going to take you into my bathroom, strip you naked and have my way with you in my shower. After that we'll see where things go and how much staying power you have."
          My mouth just dropped and I stood there speechless, hand reaching for the door but not quite making it. She moved over to the dresser near the bed and pulled out what looked like a club meal receipt and handed it to me. I stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded and not sure of what I was seeing. It *was* a receipt. It was from dinner the previous night as I read it over for the third time, but there was also a handwritten note that said:

          

Have fun with Amanda! Learn some new tricks! Love, Molly