“That was pretty messed up.” Chory wrinkled her nose and did a similar motion with her tail. “What could have happened in there?”
“I have no idea, and I don't want to know, either.” Penelope shook her head. “All I know is that the next room better smell better than that or we're going to have a problem.”
The hotel attendant assisting them lead them to the elevator; they took it to the next floor up. When they arrived at the room, he opened the door and leaned inside, taking a precautionary sniff.
“Here we are,” He stepped to the side and ushered them in. “This is much better.”
“Ahhh, alright. This smells like an actual hotel.” Penelope dropped her suitcase on the ground and went to inspect the beds.
“I suggest opening the windows. The ocean breeze is really very refreshing.” The attendant placed a suitcase on the floor.
“We just might do that. Thank you for the help with the luggage.”
“Not at all. We apologize for the mistake. Normally our rooms smell much better.”
“I would hope so,” Penelope let herself fall back on the bed.
The attendant smiled. “Anyway, if you need anything else, don't hesitate to call us at the front desk.”
“Okay, thank you.” Chory walked over and opened the window. The poofy fur of her tail quivered with the cool, Caribbean breeze. “Wow, an ocean view.”
“He was nice.” Penelope sat up. “Still pretty crazy they gave us such a horrible smelling room, though.”
“Yeah, but at least they're making up for it.” Chory swung the window open and took a deep breath. “It smells great out here.”
“I'll come over and smell it in a minute.” Penelope got to her feet and tottered off the to bathroom. “Feel like I'm gonna pee myself....”
Penelope's comment reminded Chory she'd been thirsty since before arriving at the hotel, and the foul smelling room had been too awful to brave. Chory approached the mini-fridge and inspected the contents. The top half was empty, but the bottom was lined with bottles of water, juice, and beer. She reached for the water and inspected the label.
“Hotel brand water for... seven American dollars.... Jeez, that's almost fifty kroner!” She put the bottle back and frowned. “There's no way... And then all this beer, too.... It's even more than the water! Do they really expect us to pay this?”
She checked the cupboards and found some paper cups in a small plastic bag. “For such a nice place it sure has some real downsides.” She looked at the cups with skepticism.
“Who are you talking to?” Penelope walked out of the bathroom fixing her shirt.
Chory walked in after her and filled the cup with tap water. “Take a look at the prices at our snack bar. Fifty kroner for one bottle of water.”
“Come on, Chor, everybody knows hotels charge you up the butt for everything.”
“Yeah, but,” Chory finished off the full cup of water. “I get expensive. But fifty kroner is too much. The beers are seventy.”
“We don't need any of that anyway. We'll get some cocktails at a bar, and if you want, we'll buy a jug of water at a gas station or something.”
After refilling part of the cup and taking a few more gulps, Chory tossed it in the garbage can. “Whatever, let's just head down to the pool. I could use a drink.”
Penelope beamed and walked straight to her suitcase. “Been wanting to try on this new bikini all fall.”
After changing, they headed back to the elevator. They could see the pool through the glass siding and through the hotel's slanted, glass ceiling. The water was a pristine shade of blue, mucked up only by the many dark, people-occupied spots. The pool itself curved exotically and terminated in a cabana-like structure that had entrances on land and seats in the water.
“Very tropical.” Penelope commented.
When they stepped outside, Chory put her hand up to block the sun.
“God, it is so hot!”
“Yes, when I checked my phone it said it was almost thirty-four degrees.”
“Jeez, I don't think I've ever felt anything above twenty-five....”
“I think it's very nice, actually. And I believe it will be good for our coats.” Penelope looked around the pool, first at a small cluster of vacant chairs, then at the densely occupied pool, and then at the cabana. “What should we do first? I don't know about you, but I could use a drink.”
“I could definitely use a drink, but.... Where is the bar?”
“I think it's that little hut over there.” She pointed toward the cabana.
“The one with all the people around it...?”
“That's the one.”
Chory groaned. “Of course it is.”
“It looks like the pool people are getting served sooner than the standing people. We should swim over there.”
“Yeah, I just wish the pool wasn't so... packed. I'm going to feel like a sardine.”
They headed toward the edge of the pool, looking for an open spot to slip into the water. Chory noticed a few onlookers, but whenever she tried to meet their gaze, they quickly looked away.
She'd been warned about stares, especially in places with warmer climates. Arctic foxes seldom came down south, and their fluffy, white coats were considered very alluring to other cultures.
The piece of fabric between Penelope's butt cheeks wasn't helping, either.
Penelope's breasts nearly popped out of her top with every step and her 'bikini' showed a remarkable resemblance to a thong. At least it helped take some eyes off of Chory's much more modest, cobalt blue two-piece.
She brushed her black hair out of her face and peered around nervously, trying to spot any potential lookers. She was suddenly glad she'd gone against Penelope's advice and had settled on wearing the skirt that came with the bathing suit.
They entered the water and slipped through clusters of people. They stood between several parties and had to squeeze behind seats and between groups to get to the counter. In the end, only Penelope could make it to the actual bar, and ended up ordering for both of them.
“This place is so crowded.” Penelope practically had to yell to be heard.
“Yeah, I really wasn't expecting this.”
“I guess we shouldn't be surprised, coming down here during spring break.”
Yeah,” Chory looked back toward the bar, knowing exactly what she needed was on the way.
They stood around for over five minutes.
Chory frowned and looked over at the bar. The bartender threw a spinning bottle into the air, caught it, and began pouring it into a bourbon glass without missing a beat. In an instant, the bottle was stashed away among several rows of other liquors, and the next one was already in hand.
“How long does it take to make two drinks?”
“I don't know,” Penelope replied, “but I don't think it takes this long. Hopefully they'll have them ready soon. I'm getting tired of standing here.”
Another five minutes passed until they got their cocktails. Chory asked Penelope to put in another order immediately.
“Are you sure?” Penelope asked, turning back to face the finger tapping on her shoulder.
“Yeah, just do it.” Chory took the cocktail and took a long sip. “We'll be finished with these by the time we get it anyway.”
After about five minutes, their next order of cocktails arrived. They stood around for a few moments, laughing about having a drink in each hand, before finishing their first off and beginning on the other.
Within forty-five minutes, they'd both ordered and finished their next round. A very buzzed Penelope had begun telling a recent club story, relaying some of the more sensitive details with a much louder voice than necessary.
“...Yeah, I mean, I don't know what she was thinking!” Penelope threw her free hand about as she spoke. “It was nice. Don't get me wrong. I was very flattered. Really, I don't, I-” The look on Chory's face caused her to suddenly stop talking and burst into laughter.
Chory did the same, crossing her legs as hard as she could, nearly bringing a hand to her groin, but catching herself at the last moment. “You... you were... flattered?!” Chory struggled to find the words between breaths.
“Uh huh....” Penelope managed to stop herself from laughing long enough to continue. “Okay, so, it gets better. So, I've pretty much given her the message, yeah? I don't swing that way. And would you believe she like, came up to me and whispered in my ear... just like this. And she says...” Penelope approached Chory and whispered something softly in her ear. Chory stifled her laughter just long enough to swallow the alcohol in her mouth, before busting out into laughter.
Her eyes widened as a dribble of urine escaped her.
She jammed her hand between her legs and pressed as hard as she could against her crotch. She leaned forward in obvious, desperate fashion, still laughing, nearly choking on her own attempts to breathe.
“Okay...okay, no more.” She forced herself to calm down. With one more swig she finished off her cocktail. “Here,” she handed Penelope the glass. “Go ahead and order me another. I gotta go pee.”
Chory climbed out of the pool and headed toward the bathrooms. The leak had caused an already strong, alcohol-induced urge to intensify. She walked as quickly as she could without looking obvious.
The bathrooms were in a small, white-washed building a bit off from the pool area. It was down a long, curling slope, closer to the beach than the bar. When she got there, she found a moderate-sized line, long enough to make her regret having left the pool.
Back in grade school, she'd had a couple friends who swam at their relative's houses, so occasionally the topic of peeing in pools came up. From what she'd gathered, it was culturally acceptable in most places, as long as nobody noticed it.
However, this was her first time in a pool, and she had no idea what to expect.
She'd heard the trick was to pee slow so it would disperse and cool off before anybody could detect it, but how slow was slow enough? How much space did she need to make sure nobody would feel it? Was there even enough free space in the pool for it to go unnoticed?
Regardless, once she started going, that was the end of it; no amount of effort could stop her stream―or even slow it down. In doctor's offices, she'd often pee on the side of the urine-sample cups while trying to pull them away. And if she'd had any chance of controlling herself to begin with, being buzzed and having a dangerously full bladder decimated it.
She squirmed, trying to be as subtle as she could, but finding relief only in obvious maneuvers, like leg crossing.
Is this really the only bathroom they have? It's so crowded, though. How could they have this many people out here and only one set of bathrooms? It's... just unprofessional.
First it'd been the bad smelling room, then the over-priced beverages, and then the over-crowding. And now she was standing in an unacceptably long bathroom line. She scoffed.
How could a place so expensive offer such terrible amenities?
“Ugh....” She shifted around, unable to keep still.
When she got closer to the bathroom, she leaned forward to ease the pressure off her over-stretched bladder. She wasn't sure if the people around her could tell how badly she had to go, or if they cared, but the stance was humiliating and the situation was frustrating. She took a mental note to just pee in the pool next time.
When it was finally her turn, she walked in, casually, too casually for someone bent at the waist. She closed the door and turned to face the toilet, dancing around on the spot.
“...What?” Her lips hung open in surprise.
In lieu of a toilet, there was a wooden bench with a toilet seat over a hole. Droplets of urine covered the toilet seat and bits had even splashed on to the surrounding wood. A roll of toilet paper sat next to it, sitting about a foot away from its broken dispenser, which dangled from the wall.
“There's no way.” Her hips swayed further and her butt swept back in forth in increasingly wide and quick motions. Chory hated using public restrooms, even ones that were clean and had functional toilet paper mounts. But this....
“Am I supposed... to sit there?”
She approached the hole and stared at it. If sitting wasn't an option, she would just stand above it and squat.
She attempted to step on the wood, but within a couple seconds she brought her foot back down and smashed her legs together. It became immediately obvious that the space was too narrow for her to occupy―and that was assuming she managed to climb up without peeing herself in the process.
Had she been a normal woman, she'd have just turned her back to the toilet and squatted with her butt over the hole, which judging by the small puddles of urine all over and around the seat had been what everyone else had done. But her urine tended to shoot forward, instead of backwards or down like most people's. If she tried to pee like that, she'd just pee all over the backs of her legs.
She squirmed and turned to look at the door to the bathroom. She considered going back to the hotel room to pee, but she doubted she'd be able to hold it that long. The pool was another option, but seemed too risky with her bladder as full as it was. Penelope would ask question if she detected the urine so soon after Chory had gone to the toilet.
“Erg!” Her frustration grew. This was supposed to be a four star resort! What kind of bathroom is this? What kind of service are they giving? What did I even pay for?
Then it struck her.
Her pee went forward when she relived herself, which meant she couldn't effectively relieve herself with a squat. However, pushing her pelvis forward and letting go might actually send the stream straight into the hole.... Right?
But what if it didn't?
Once she started peeing, it was a done deal. There was no stopping.
Then again, she thought. What difference does it make?
Thus far, the resort had been a huge disappointment. They'd let her down in every way, and it was hard to be forgiving while dancing around in front of a gross toilet, afraid to stop moving at risk of having an accident.
I guess I don't have anything to lose. She frowned as she approached the toilet, but there was a strange, satisfying sensation deep in her gut. Messed with the wrong girl....
After planting her feet several spaces apart, one on the ground, the other raised on to the wood, she pulled her bikini out of the way and pushed her pelvis forward. A wave of anxiety passed over her. What was she about to do? How was this going to turn out? Would she even be able to do this? Would she....
Before she could humor another worry, urine started to involuntarily trickle out onto the floor. She panicked and pushed. The stream intensified and shot toward the hole. It went directly inside for a second, but suddenly shifted to the side, causing her to pee directly on the toilet seat.
She tried to aim it away, but her movements caused the stream to arch sideways, onto the seat and dangerously close to her leg. She flinched, moving her leg a few inches away. The stream moved with her, turning toward the toilet paper.
Within seconds, her piss saturated the roll all the way through. She made one more attempt to correct her stream, but only managed to get it on the toilet seat, large amounts of it splashing on the wood and flooding to the ground below.
Her stream came to a slow, trickling end, going directly onto the floor between her legs. She examined herself and was pleasantly surprised to see that she'd managed to remain almost completely dry.
She released her bikini and adjusted it, giving the toilet one more fleeting glance. If it had been a mess before, now it was a disaster. But that wasn't her fault. Her hands had been tied.
When she left the bathroom, she walked away quickly, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. The people going in after her would have no way of knowing she was the one who'd pissed everywhere, so she was in the clear.
When she returned to the pool, she slipped in close to where Penelope was standing. Penelope handed her both cocktails and shifted a bit in the pool.
“Damn, girl, what took so long. I'm about to piss myself.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, I'll be back, I'm just gonna hit the toilets real quick....”
“I don't know if that's such a-”
“Is there a line? Hope it isn't too long.”
“It's... uh....”
“Arh, doesn't matter. I'll just have to wait it out, I guess.”
Penelope slipped out of the pool without another word.
Chory looked down at the cocktails in contemplation. She brought one to her lips and took a long sip.
To vacation.
