Paul pulls off Charlotte's panties.

Charlotte's breath was coming faster and faster now, and it was getting more and more shallow with every touch from Paul. She gulped, trying to keep a hold on herself, but from the haze of the liquor and the weed, she felt like her head was spinning and there wasn't much that she felt like doing other than let this handsome hallway stranger touch her.

Her right leg was up on the loveseat entirely now, and she knew for a fact that Paul had the perfect angle to see her black panties now. They were a simple pair, plain and low-cut. Charlotte certainly hadn't been against the idea of hooking up with someone this early in the trip, but she had expected to spend the night with her friends at the bar, so she hadn't gone crazy with her underwear choices.

But seeing Charlotte's panties wasn't enough for Paul. He could feel the heat coming off of her body, smell her wetness. He hadn't had much of the booze, but he was drunk on the idea of having this woman. Sure, he got his fair share of head from lazy or broke stoners. But it had been too long since a woman of this caliber had given herself to him.

He reached up between her legs, his hands sliding under her dress. She didn't resist. In fact, she adjusted how she sat on the loveseat, making it a little easier for him to touch her. His fingers found the band of her panties, and when he touched the skin beneath them, he heard Charlotte's breath catch in her throat.

Charlotte's heart was beating hard. The feeling of that heartbeat cut through her haze, and she focused on it like the beat at a concert. She could feel the fabric of her panties peeling from her body. She felt Paul pull them down her long, pale legs. She watched as he threw them across the room, watched them land in the corner. And then she made eye contact with him, seconds before he looked between her legs, up her dress and at the swollen lips of her sex.