"Stretch, two, three, four" the television commanded. "Up, two, three, four; down, two, three, four," relentlessly.
I tried hard to follow. The alarm had gone at seven thirty and I'd been to the bathroom then come back for the work-out. But this one seemed to be designed for professional athletes . . . I decided to give up: just where did these people get their energy?
I stood at the sliding door with a big glass of water, staring over the shared balcony onto the city.
I finished the drink, dried my hands then tossed the towel onto the chair outside. What next? Perhaps a few photos of the city from up here, or a shower, then down to get some shots of street-life as the city woke up? Or perhaps . . . I would be travelling for a while, so had prepared for lonely hotel rooms by bringing a pair of yellow, lace-edged full-brief panties and a sexy film with me (the intriguingly-named Tit Movie III). Tit Movie III was in the hotel room DVD player right now, and I was already in my yellow knickers, so. . .
No - shower first! I told myself.
I reached out and turned on the taps. The open-plan bathroom was one of the reasons I'd chosen this hotel: the shower cubicle was right next to the balcony and I'd be able to watch the spectacular view over the city while I showered.
I opened the hot tap some more, re-arranged by hardening cock inside my knickers, then quickly ducked outside to retrieve my towel.
At that moment, the balcony door next to mine opened and a dark-haired, middle-aged lady in a hotel dressing-gown stepped outside. She noticed me reaching for my towel and nodded a casual greeting.
Caught off-guard, I could only stammer a lame "good morning" in reply while I stood there in a pair of women's briefs.
She waved a hand slowly behind her. "Don't mind me, dear" she said: "I'm not looking." Then she settled in her chair, pulled off the dressing-gown and put it on the table. As she did so, I glimpsed the back of a large black, bikini bra and - what was that? Was it - a plus-sized g-string bikini bottom . .?
