Add a robe just to be safe

Kate and Ilyana might have the kind of bodies that deserved to be bold and uncensored, but he just couldn't see himself in that league yet, he decided. Snagging one of the hotel's complimentary bath robes from a nearby hook, he shrouded himself and immediately felt much more relaxed. Calmly he turned the door knob and reentered the bedroom.

As he did, he could hear Ilyana saying, "No, bring your arm around behind you. Like this."

"Ack. That hurts!" complained Kate.

"That's because you never stretch!" countered Ilyana, "Just do it slowly and you'll be fine."

The two of them were standing in the corner near the mirror with their hands clasped behind their backs, chests jutting out conspicuously. The pose vaulted Kate's bosom tightly against her flimsy gown, clearly exposing her two graceful, red-tipped, ivory hills through the translucent facade. Ilyana provided a complementary, darker landscape behind her.

"John, tell her how important it is to always stretch before bed!" Ilyana scolded, turning toward him in askance.

"Very!" he chimed bisyllabically, ardently hoping the lesson would continue as long as humanly possible.

"Now spread your feet shoulder-width apart, and bend forward. No, no, you have to keep your ankles straight."

"How can I keep my ankles straight if my feet are so far apart?"

"Well you just... like this..." and Ilyana bent forward lithely, her large breasts once again swinging against her fragile gown, distending it provocatively.

Kate shook her head in frustration. "Well no matter how important stretching may be, sleep is more important to me right now. I'm never going to make it through practice tomorrow morning if I'm dead on my feet."

"True enough," Ilyana conceded; and both crawled drowsily into their respective berths.

John obligingly flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness, and then shed his robe and laid back upon his cot between the two fair damsels.

For a long time he rested happily with his eyes closed, hands clasped behind his head, replaying the magnificent sights of the evening in his mind and re-tasting them like rare wines. The soft purrs of his sleeping roommates contributed imaginings of their semi-nude forms blissfully poised in the repose of slumber under their sheets. At some point he must have dozed off, because gradually he became aware of a tickling sensation on his chest. He opened his eyes just a crack. It was still very dark, but the moon had shifted positions and was now shining through the window. By its faint light, he could see Kate's arm extended out from her covers and her limp fingers ever so slightly brushing against the skin of his chest.

The **** contact raised goosebumps on his flesh and set his heart racing. But then as the fog of sleep receded, he became aware that her hand was slowly moving along his rib cage, delicately but methodically traversing it with the tips of her fingers. This was no **** touch.