The pretty young girl behind the desk looked up. She'd been sorting letters as I trudged across the hostel foyer. "Can I help you?" she said smiling, and pushing aside the post. She must have been all of twenty four, with dark brown eyes and glossy blonde hair. "Hi – did you get my reservation?" I spoke politely but with a sense of weariness, as I slipped my rucksack off and allowed it to thump to the floor. "I arranged it from Asia – I hope you got the details – Jodie Chambers." I was grimy and eager to get into the shower. "I'll check the book" she smiled, her look lingering a little, almost as if she knew me. I returned the smile and looked around the foyer. "Nice place you've got here. Are you full?" She was still staring at me. "Pretty much at the moment" she purred "but we'll fit you in." Despite my tiredness, I clocked the flirt and butterflies fluttered in my tummy. She really was quite cute and as she was checking the diary, I checked out her fingers as she drew them down the page; long and beautifully tanned and as they came to my name, she put a long tick through the reservation and looked up at me, coyly from underneath her fringe. "Room 4, floor 12. You're in with me". I stared at her: "You're staff – you don't normally bunk in with the backpackers." "This one does – we're over booked in our quarters – like I said, we're really busy. Is that okay?" She didn't seem too bothered by the inconvenience and by the way she was leaning over the desk, and showing off her taut breasts, who was I to complain? The thought of sharing a room with this nymphet sent shivers down my spine. Coming out of my reverie I found myself almost slavering over the diary lying in front of me and suddenly embarrassed, asked: "Is it this way?" I pointed towards the stairs. She nodded and then added: "I'll see you in a bit anyway. I'm off in half an hour." Throwing me an outrageously flirtatious look, and suggestively sucking on the pencil she was holding, I suddenly felt quite shy. "Great ….err...yeah …. great; see you later – upstairs." Tongue tied and feeling like a gauche teenager, I lumbered off with my pack and linen. As I looked back she was still watching me disappear and I smiled all too aware of the signals I was picking up. As I unlocked the door to my room, all thoughts of an erotic holiday interlude left my head, as, with gratitude, I noticed the two beds, a wash stand and an en suite shower – low level ecstasy- brilliant. No ten bed shares here. And throwing my rucksack onto the bunk, I headed for the shower and entered the recently cleaned cubicle with renewed vigour. The water felt glorious on my skin and I washed my hair three times before it felt clean again. With the loofah I‘d purchased in Singapore, I scrubbed my body from face to toes, giving special relief to the six mosquito bites on my ankle. Pure indulgence. Some time later, I grabbed my towel from the hot rail and strolled the short distance back to my room. The weather was in the 30s but a cool breeze was taking the edge off the heat. When I opened the door, my roommate was already there: "Hello" she said glancing up from her book: "You took your time. I'm Emma." She was stretched out on the other bunk bed and had changed into a sarong. I was wearing only a towel and suddenly felt shy. "Jodie", I said, and then laughed because of course she already knew that. She smiled too and the ice was broken. "The showers are good aren't they?" "Beautiful – just what the doctor ordered" and I began to dress myself, putting on my only clean tee shirt and shorts. Comfortable at last, I unpacked my diary as Emma watched me from her bunk, amused. I could sense her staring. I smiled over at her. "Do you write that every day?" she said, nodding at my book. "Mostly – but I don't put any dates in it otherwise it becomes a chore". She was very very cute and I felt pleased that we were sharing a room. It was always nice to make new friends and I was beginning to think that this could be quite exciting. "Wish I could be that diligent – never seem to have the time to put it all on the page" "Well you don't have to just write you know. You can paint, stick things in, and do anything you want really. Life is too full of rules." "I agree; I'm all for breaking rules." My heart missed a beat as she moved, and allowed me a view of her thigh, soft and tanned beneath the colourful sarong. I felt strangely complimented by this young woman's attention. I looked down at my diary, intrigue rushing to my face. "Can I see?" she said moving towards the bed. "I've always wanted to create." I nodded, and slid over slightly to make room for her. I could hear the cicadas outside the window. Sitting down next to me on the bed, her leg brushed mine, and our eyes locked for a moment. She opened her mouth, lips moist, as if to say something but changing her mind, she trailed her finger across the page of my diary: "This looks fantastic," she said, as if touching silk. "Well, I'm no expert" I was feeling hot, "But you're welcome to have a look". I no longer felt tired and as she took the book from my hands, her fingertips grazed mine and a frisson of excitement ran down my body. No one had ever looked at my diary. People had been intrigued but no one had given it this much attention before. She turned the pages over one by one, smiling at some and then looking back at me as if questioning, others. All the time, silent and attentive. As she read, I took time to take a good look at her. She wore a wide silver ring on her thumb; her ears were pierced with rings and studs; and at the top of her shoulder, I spied a black Chinese tattoo, peeping from under her camisole. I loved tattoos. Coming to the end, she closed the book and laid it down beside me: "That is beautiful" she stated as if her opinion was the only one I needed. I looked down shyly and then back up at her sensitive face. "Not really – just a plain old diary" I paused "written by a plain old dyke" I wondered how she would take this news and saw her eyes widen at the word and then glaze over as if it was completely normal to her. Emma was all of twenty-four and I was sat there feeling shy and gawky in her presence. "I thought you might be" she said, strangely confident, and a sense of expectation hung in the air. Moments passed as a mosquito flew between us buzzing. I moved slightly and Emma touched my hand. "Can I kiss you?" she whispered gently. I gazed at her for a second. She really was quite beautiful – blonde, with lush red lips, slightly open with just a touch of a tongue, gently running along their edge. "If you want to," I said, my own voice hardly audible. We were now only inches apart, our lips almost brushing; eyes mesmerised; the room so quiet, I could hear her chest rise and fall. "I've never done this before" she said, huskily. Moving closer, her eyes glazed with lust. My body trembling, I met her half way. "I have" and taking the back of her head, I pulled her towards me, our mouths meeting urgently, as the tension in the room rose. Emma responded, her lips hot on mine, her tongue darting in and out of my mouth. My womb somersaulted, wet and hot, aching for her inside of me. Urging her down on to the bed, my hand slid beneath her camisole and she moaned deeply into my hair. Caressing and cupping her breast in my mouth, I circled her hardening nipple with my tongue. Emma gasped as I played with her rising passion and my fingers moved down towards her heat. Her body arching up towards my hand, I pushed hard into her warmth and she cried out, clasping my neck, as a shudder surged through her body. As my fingers played and plunged her towards orgasm, Emma's body bucked with a final, quivering climax. As the spasms gently subsided, she lay back on the mattress, in satisfied euphoria. Later, I held Emma in my arms, rocking her. Her eyes were half closed, as she lay beneath me. Her body felt hot and sated, and a smile played on her lips. As we cuddled in each other's arms, full and happy, I grinned at her excitement. She had never fucked with a woman before. She'd clearly wanted to though. Murmuring in her sleep, I stroked a hair away from her damp face and opening her eyes slowly from her slumber, I felt her fingers trace over my stomach. Turning me towards her, a mischievous look in her eyes, she began to nibble at my neck. I reckoned that New Zealand was going to be just fine. GayNZ.com welcomes short-format writing based on the joy of being gay or lesbian, whether it be verse, essays, anecdotes or personal insights. The format is not important, the joy is. Email your contributions to us, acknowledging that copyright beyond the environment of GayNZ.com remains with the author, that the work is original, and that GayNZ.com is authorised to publish it. Andrea Chapman - 30th July 2006