textfiles/sex/EROTICA/T/the_maid.txt

The Maid


She had seen the man in 314 twice:  once Tuesday, as he had come back
from the spa in the basement of the hotel, and once yesterday morning.
That was when he had told her his name.  It seemed like a long time ago,
and in many ways it was.

She had entered his room without reason to think he was there.  The "Do
No Disturb" sign wasn't on the knob, and she was just a tad late in
getting to room 314, as 306 must have had a keg party in there last
night, and took almost an extra half-hour to clean.  She had been pretty
annoyed at that, too.  The sooner she got all of her rooms done, the
sooner she could go back to something simple, like checking cleaning
supply stock, or putting linen away.  She hated being a maid, but money
is money and right now it was the only way she had of getting any.

She had entered his room, then, with nothing on her mind but her
annoyance at the kids in 306.  The television wasn't on, which usually
meant that no one was there;  for some reason most people left the
television on all the time they were in the room, except when they were
sleeping.  Maybe it was for companionship, who knows.  She picked up a
pair of pants from the foot of the bed and draped them over the valet
rack.  She made the bed with expert fingers, tucking and tightening,
plumping up pillows, turning down the covers just so.  It was automatic
with her now, and she fumed in her mind at the faceless inhabitants of
306.

"Uh, excuse me?"  A voice behind her said.  She whirled, frightened.  A
man stood there, in the bathroom doorway, wearing nothing but a white
towel.  He seemed to be trying to supress a smile.

"Oh!  I'm so sorry, sir!"  She gasped.  She felt a sinking feeling, and
a hot painful tremor passed through her body. She was going to lose her
job.  Just thinking about it for a split second made her certain.  She
was going to be fired for this..  How was she going to tell Mr. DeLuga
that he hadn't let her know he was there?  Her word was nothing against
a guest's.  She might as well kiss farewell to a job in this hotel, that
was for sure.

"It's okay, I won't shoot you or anything,"  the man said.  He stepped
back into the bathroom for a moment, and then came out in his underwear.
"Um, you moved my pants..."  He looked around the room, and then spied
them neatly hanging from the valet stand.  "Could you...?"  He gestured
toward them and smiled at her, a rather nice smile.

"Oh, certainly."  She said breathlessly.  She whisked the pants from the
stand and gave them to him.  "I can explain, sir."  Her breasts were
heaving with her deep, frightened breathing.  "I didn't see the sign
saying do not disturb, and I didn't hear you in the bathroom sir or I
would never have invaded your privacy."  She looked at him with pleading
in her eyes.

"Hey, it's okay."  He stepped into his pants and zipped them up.  "I
rarely shake hands with ladies until I have some pants on."  He laughed,
and held out his hand.  "Hi. My name is Rob."

She looked at his hand for a moment as if she was unsure of what he
wanted.  She blushed, and then shook his hand for an instant.  "Hi."
She smiled in relief at Rob, and let out a deep breath.  "My name is
Jenn."  She stood there for a moment looking at him as he smiled at her,
obviously amused. She blushed again.  "Um, I can clear out of here until
you're dressed."  She grabbed at her things and hurried over to her
cart.

"No problem.  You stay here.  I'll be just a moment anyway, and then
I'll get out of your way."  Rob disappeared into the closet and she
could hear hangers screeching across the closet rod.  She walked back to
her vacuum.

When Rob reappeared, he was buttoning up a white shirt with a tie slung
around his neck.  She looked down at the handle of the vacuum as if she
had never seen it before.  He was quite handsome, she thought.  Tall, a
wide chest narrowing down to a narrow waist and long legs.  He looked
like a basketball player, but he dressed like an executive.  She flicked
one glance up to his face.  Brown hair, shining brown eyes, brown
mustache.  She felt a sort of itch on her lips.  She knew that
feeling... the feeling of a thick mustache brushing her upper lip as she
was kissed long and deep.

Damn!  She thought, I'm blusing again.  Her face felt hot, and suddenly
her skirt felt too short.

"You know," Rob said as he tied a knot in his tie, "you sure don't look
like your typical hotel maid.  I always expect somebody like my
grandmother."  She glanced up at him to see his kind smile.

"Well, we all have to make a living."  She said in a small voice.  If
her manager caught her in here talking to a guest, she'd be a goner.
Now that her initial fright was over, she still thought about this sort
of thing, but at the moment she really didn't care.

"Oh sure.  I wasn't knocking it, it's just that you normally don't see
such a beautiful woman as a maid, that's all."

Me?  He's talking to me?  She thought.  She had never really considered
herself beautiful, even though she was proud of her hair, a beautiful
brown mane that reddened in the summertime.  She had never considered
her face to be beautiful, with its eyes a trifle too large and wide, and
her lips a trifle too full.  Her breasts were large and heavy, but set
high.  She had always thought she had just a little too much of
everything, except maybe beauty and money.  She had laughed many a grim
laugh over that little irony.

"Thank you.  You're awfully kind to say that."  Her hands fidgeted as
she tried not to let him know how much he was affecting her.  She had
been awfully lonely lately;  she supposed everyone felt this way when
they just moved to a new city and didn't know anyone.  He was so
handsome...

He looked at her for a moment, his hands still on his tie.  She blushed
again, harder, under his gaze, but did not look away this time.  She was
nervous, and just a little excited about seeing him in nothing but a
towel, and to her horror she felt her nipples harden.  Please don't let
him notice, she thought.  She knew that there was no way for him to not
notice, as her uniform's blouse was of a spongy polyester, and an
all-over drab tan color that would make the shadows of her nipples stand
out in relief.  Her breasts were large, too large for this size blouse
really, and they strained against the ugly fabric.  His eyes swept
downward for just a moment, and he seemed as if he was going to say
something, but didn't.

She thought hurriedly of something to say.  "Gee, it's cold in here."
It was lame, she knew.  She crossed her arms, trying to cover her
distended nipples from his gaze.  He was so tall and so well-built.  It
had been quite a while since she had seen a man she thought this
attractive, and he seemed to know it.

"Well, I've gotta go."  He grabbed a briefcase from a shelf in the
armoire and threw his suit jacket over his arm.  "See you later."  With
that and a parting smile, he left.

She finished the room, cleaning slowly, not caring how long it took.
She didn't exactly pry into his things, she had promised herself she
would never stoop so low as to look at a guest's private items, but she
looked long at the things which were clearly visible.  In the bathroom,
his cologne still faintly scented the air.  She breathed deeply,
enjoying it.  His travel case lay on the counter, bottles and tubes
surrounding it haphazardly.  Expensive things, nice things.  She looked
in the closet and saw his suits hanging there, five of them.  He was
going to be here all week, then.  Today was Thursday.  He would probably
leave tomorrow morning.  She felt a small pang.

She finished up to room 320.  That was the end of her responsibility.
It was a few minutes after two when she stepped through the employee's
entrance into the cool grey darkness of the parking garage.  She hunted
in her purse for the keys to her car.  She had forgotten to leave the
windows open a little, and it felt stuffy inside; she opened the windows
to let the air touch her face as she pulled out of the garage and headed
home to the apartment.

The stray cat was back at her front door.  "Okay, okay, just let me get
inside here and then I'll feed you," she said, trying to sound annoyed.
She really didn't mind the cat, although she knew that it just loved her
because of the food she regularly gave to it, but it was just about the
only companionship she had had these three months since moving here.  It
darted inside when she opened the door, and she followed it to the
kitchen, opening a can of tuna to be shared between them.

She watched a tape of the movie she had missed last night while she was
asleep.  It wasn't very good, but at least it was something to do.  She
couldn't afford cable, and she missed most of the good shows because of
her schedule, but at least she had a VCR.  That was something, at least,
and it was free.

Her mind kept wandering from the movie to her encounter that morning.
He had seemed to be pleased to meet her, but he was probably just being
nice.  He probably complimented every woman he saw like that.
Businessmen are tricky, she thought to herself.  They have to be nice to
everyone just to stay in practice for their clients.  But she did not
think that the big brown eyes had been insincere when he had told her
she was beautiful.

"Hmph."  She snorted to herself.  Like her big boobs making the buttons
strain on that polyester top of hers could ever even simulate beauty.
And that skirt!  The same awful tan color as her shirt which made her
look so washed out.  Her thick, ugly shoes with the crepe soles - how
could those make her appear beautiful?  She held her legs out in front
of her now, bare up to the short shorts she had on.  They were long and
smooth, but how could he know what they looked like through those awful
thick stockings?  He didn't even see my hair, she thought to herself.
She had to keep it pinned up beneath her maid's cap.  He didn't even get
to see my hair.  She felt depressed.

The afternoon wore on.  She drank another Pepsi and read a book.  The
heroine was a striking woman who was a double-agent during World War II.
She coaxed state secrets from generals and dictators by using her body,
her long velvet-clad gowns falling effortless from her creamy white
shoulders as she would stand in the War Minister's office. "My beauty is
the only thing I have to offer you."  She would say.  "It is yours,
yours to take, as I want you to take me in your arms and show me the sun
and the stars." While the general or the dictator or whomever it was
(sometimes these novels got a little confusing) made sweaty, grunting
love to her she would be using a tiny camera in her earring to photocopy
documents lying exposed on the general/dictator's desk.

She yawned.  This was pretty stupid.  It was getting to be about that
time, so she decided to go to bed just a little early.

She let the cat out for the night and went upstairs.  It was warmer up
here, the apartment's central air didn't quite make it up onto the
second floor.  She went into her bedroom and turned on the fan.  She
liked sleeping with a fan, the cool air moving over her body and the
droning sound of the blades turning were like a lullabye.

She undressed and lay down.  She slept in the nude;  after all, there
was no call to buy nice night things with no one to look at them.  She
would rather sleep raw than in one of those old granny-looking
nightgowns.  She wasn't about to pay good money for something that would
make her look like her mother.

She turned over onto her stomach and felt the cool sheets against her
skin.  She thought about Rob.  He had seemed so nice.  He was certainly
handsome, there was no arguing that point.  She thought about him
standing in the bathroom doorway.  He had been wearing nothing but a
towel.  The hair on his legs was dark, like the hair on his chest and
arms.  She wondered how it would have looked had that towel slipped just
a little bit.  Just enough to see how the hair ran from his navel to fan
out below his abdomen.  I bet it would be thick and dark, she thought.
I wonder what else...

She rolled onto her back.  What a stupid thing to think of.  Like she
was ever going to even talk to him again. She'd probably never see him
again.  He might be gone by the time she got to his room tomorrow.  She
could never clean that room first - Mr. DeLuga would notice that she had
broken her routine, and that might lead to some nasty questions.
Besides.  The "Do No Disturb" sign would probably - no, would certainly
- be on the door this time.  Surely Rob wouldn't make the same mistake
twice.  But if he did... what if she saw him again. What if this time he
didn't know she was in the room. What if he walked out into the bedroom
with nothing on at all.  She would see him naked.

Her hand strummed the muscles of her stomach.  I wonder if he would get
mad, she thought.  Or would he be secretly pleased?

The thought of him being naked before her was making her wish that she
was there in his room, now.  She would lie demurely on his bed, waiting
for him until he returned from his day's work.  She smiled.  No, she
wouldn't wait demurely, like a timid virgin.  She would wait on him, but
she would be an apparition, a fantasy.  Imagine being his fantasy...

She masturbated slowly, thinking of how she would appear to him.  Her
maid's uniform would be replaced by shining skin, her hair hanging down
her back almost to her waist.  He would see her large breasts and her
smooth legs.  He would welcome her into his arms.  It had been so long
since she had felt arms around her, or the rough slide of a hairy chest
against her breasts.  The thought of him lying over her, breathing hotly
into her ear brought her to climax.  It had been a long, long time, she
thought.  She lay drowsing for a few moments, and then slipped into
sleep.

The alarm rang at five in the morning.  Her shift these days was from
six until two, and although it was nice to have most of the afternoon to
herself, she hated getting up while it was still dark and silent
outside.

She showered and made up her face, a little more carefully than usual.
She put on her uniform, wound her hair around her head and pinned her
cap on top of it. She didn't like dressing at work, the maid's dressing
room was always so cold at this time of the morning. She got into her
car and drove to work.

She checked the board to see who had checked out earliest.  306 had
finally cleared out, after about two weeks.  She was glad.  He had
seemed to be very inconsiderate of who had to clean up after him, and
had left beer cans in the bed.  And all those people he had with him!
She had had to change the sheets every day, too, and she cringed at the
thought of how he got them so stained.  306 could go away and never come
back, as far as she was concerned.

Upstairs, her heart pounded a little harder as she worked her way toward
314.  He could be in there asleep right now, she thought.  She hadn't
seen any pyjamas lying around the room yesterday.  He probably slept in
the nude.  A little shiver ran through her at the idea. Her face felt
hot as she remembered her fantasy of the night before, stroking herself
to orgasm as she thought of him.  How awful, she thought.  It's almost
as if I was intruding on his privacy.  Masturbating and thinking of how
his cock would feel inside of me... she felt her heartbeat begin to
pound between her legs again, and her nipples seemed to almost itch.
She licked her lips, thinking of how nice it would be when she got home,
so she could put her fingers to her neglected clitoris and please it as
she thought of Rob.  Thinking of him pounding into her, of the sounds he
would make, at the look of his face when he came.  She shuddered again,
and applied herself to her cleaning with a vengeance.

Back out into the hall, she stood and took a deep breath.  314 was
hidden from her around a bend in the corridor.  She wouldn't be able to
tell if there was a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door or not until she
was right upon it.  One moment she was sure there would be. After
yesterday, how could he forget to put the sign out?  After all, once
was a coincidence, and he could laugh that off easily, but who would
want to be suprised like that every day?  She vacuumed the rug in 313
and considered it.  What if the sign wasn't there?  She pushed the
vacuum away from her and thought about that. If the sign wasn't there
it would probably mean that he wasn't there either.  She pulled the
vacuum back toward her.  Or, she argued with herself, he could have
left it off on purpose.  She ran the vacuum under a table. Nonsense,
she retorted.  Why would he leave it off on purpose?  She bumped a
table leg and cursed.  Now she would have to get out the furniture
polish and rub down the little pale spot the bump had caused.

She got the fragrant oil from her cart and sat in the floor to polish
the leg of the table.  She put some of the oil on a soft cloth and
applied it to the nick, and then rubbed it vigorously.  As her hand slid
up and down the table leg she argued with herself.  He's in there and
the sign will be on there and that will be that. He's not in there and
I'll never see him again.  But... but... what if he is in there and
waiting for me? She rubbed harder, trying to rub the thought from her
mind.

She finished the table and got back to her feet.  She unplugged the
vacuum from the wall and wound the cord up, fastening it to the back of
the upright.  She pulled it and her cart from the room into the cool,
silent corridor.  Sometimes she felt disoriented in these hallways, as
there was no way to tell what time it was.

She pulled the cart and vacuum around the bend.  She held her breath
against her will, and closed her eyes before she looked at 314's door.
A shock ran through her.  The sign was not there.

She stepped up to the door and started to run her passkey card through
the lock, but caught herself.  What if he was in there?  What if he
asked her why she was barging in on him yet again, when she knew what
time he left for the office?  What if he was asleep, what would she do?
What if...

Never mind.  I'm a maid in this hotel, and I have every right to enter a
room that doesn't say "Do Not Disturb" on it at this time of day and I
have a job to do and so here goes.

She slid her passkey through the sensor, and heard the lock slide back
into its housing.  She pushed down on the handle and the door opened.

The room was deserted, she could feel it.  She looked in the bathroom.
The toiletries were gone.  She looked in the closet;  empty hangers
tinkled slightly as she opened the doors.  The drapes had been pulled
shut, and it was completely dark in the room except for a lamp by the
bed shining its small pool of light.  She felt almost nauseated.  Why am
I so disappointed?  She wondered. It's not like I really expected him to
be here.  It's not like yesterday was anything more than just a guy
being nice.  It's not like he's the last man in the world.  It's not
like...  it's not like I can pretend. She stood there, looking at the
floor.  What did I expect?  For him to be lying there with arms
outstretched, saying 'Come here, Gorgeous?'  Like I could crawl into
that bed with him anyway.  She looked up at the bed.  She could almost
see his body lying there on the coverlet, naked, tan, his erection
straining toward her, a lazy smile on his face.  His handsome face.  It
would lie right where that pool of light fell on that box.  Box?

She had almost overlooked the box lying on the pillow.

She pulled her cart and vacuum all the way into the room and let the
door swing shut softly behind her.  She approached the bed slowly.  What
had he left here?  Was it just an empty box?  It was too large to fit
into the tiny wastecan by the writing desk.  Perhaps he had just left it
for someone else to throw away.

She looked at the box.  It was a large one, maybe two feet wide and
three feet long.  A very large box, but shallow.  It was of a white
coated cardboard, like the kind you wrapped sweaters in for Christmas.
There was a name stamped in gold foil on the lid, but she did not
recognize it.  She ran her hand over its embossing.  So smooth, and so
nice.  Something expensive must have been in this box once, she thought.
Something beautiful and expensive.

The tiny corner of an envelope peered out from beneath the box.  She
tugged at it, slowly.  In a man's casual hand was written "For Jenn."

Her heart pounded in her breast.  She opened the envelope slowly.  A
note, on hotel stationery.  A short note;  there were just a few
sentences written there, but her pulse raced as she took in their
meaning.  Her hands trembled as she folded the notepaper carefully and
placed it back in its envelope.

She stood and looked at the box a moment before opening it.  This was
for her, the note had said.  She slid the lid from the box, and its
slick covering squeaked slightly, weirdly loud in the dark stillness of
the room.  She put it carefully on the bed.  She opened the tissue
folded over the contents of the box delicately, and gazed long on the
contents of the box.  She put her hand in the box to feel the things
inside, some smooth, some textured, some cool to the touch.  She took
the note out again and reread it.  She looked in the box again.  Her
head swam a bit as she contemplated the note's request.  Who am I
fooling?  She thought.  She grabbed the box lid and replaced it, then
put the note in her apron pocket.  She hid the box on her cart and stood
beside it, staring down at the slight bulge it made shoved between two
towels.

She cleaned 314 and was lavish with her attentions.  She placed extra
towels on the top shelf of the closet.  She buffed the armoire to a
sheen with furniture oil, and opened the drapes to let in the strong
sunlight of the summer day.  Her heart beat loudly at the thought of
when she would next see this room.  She felt a slippery give between her
legs, and a lump of excitement in her throat.  The forbidden - that's
what she was going to do... the forbidden.

She finished her shift and went home, the box hidden under a coat over
her arm.  She had been meaning to take that coat home from her locker
for months, and she was glad now that she had procrastinated.  Mr.
DeLuga would not think kindly of her leaving work with a box from a
guest's room.  Therre was no way she would have been able to explain to
him that she was not a thief.  How could she show him the note?  He
would probably prefer to think of her as a thief.

She let in the cat who as usual was waiting for her on the front stoop.
She ran to her bedroom and put the box in the middle of her bed, not
opening it, not wanting to become too familiar with its contents before
the proper time.  She quickly changed from her uniform to jeans and a
shirt, put on her jogging shoes and headed for the mall.  She had a tiny
bit of cash saved, and there were a few items she wanted to purchase to
complete the contents of the box.

The afternoon seemed as if every hour lasted only a heartbeat.  She
constantly checked her watch, and was amazed at how long she had spent
in this shop, how long in that one.  She almost broke into a run through
the mall parking lot as she went to her car.  It was so hot, and her
hair was so heavy.  Her brow broke into a sweat.

The wind felt cool from her window as she drove home.  She entered the
apartment and didn't stop, but ran upstairs with her packages.  She
threw them on the bed beside the box with the embossed lid, and stipped
off her clothes, leaving them lying in a heap on the floor.  She looked
at her watch again before she stepped into the shower, and started to
relax. She had plenty of time.

The water was hot and pounded down on her body, and her muscles
unknotted, although her excitement did not lessen. She put shampoo on
her hair and lathered it, moving her fingers through the long, dark
strands.  She rubbed fragrant herbal soap into her skin, her hands
roaming over her body, pinching her nipples until she could no longer
stand the sensation.  Sometimes when she teased herself this way it
would become almost unbearable, the craving for a man sucking at her
breast, a man with his cock deep inside of her.  She stood under the
water for a long time, letting it wash the lather away.  Her hands
cupped her breasts and held them upward to the water, the silky feel of
it washing under them very soothing.  She rinsed the shampoo from her
hair and stepped from the shower, wide awake and feeling relaxed and
excited.  She thought of the boxes awaiting her in her bedroom.  She
smiled nervously to herself.

She patted down her warm, damp skin with perfume.  A spicy scent, its
first heady rush mellowed to a warm smell of cinnamon and flowers as she
dried her hair.  She brushed it and let it hang to dry as she sat down
at her vanity table to make up her face.

Her skin was glowing from the hot shower.  She shadowed her brown eyes
with a touch of pink, and rimmed her bottom lashes with kohl.  Her pale
skin was flushed from her rushing blood.  She glossed her lips, their
natural color only heightened.  She studied herself in the mirror for
the effect.  She shrugged.  I look as good now as I ever have, she
thought.

She dried the dampness from her hair and brushed its long, auburn waves
until they shone.  She stood naked in the bathroom, pulling her brush
through her hair in long, even strokes.  Her breasts rose and fell with
the movement of her arm.  She had never noticed how the nipple on her
breast was accentuated as she moved her arm.  For some reason, tonight
the discovery intrigued and delighted her.  It was a night of learning.

She looked at herself in the full length mirror on the back of her
closet door.  Her face was shining, her eyes large and offset by her
pink mouth.  Her hair glistened with her attentions, and fell down her
back in soft waves.  Her naked body felt smooth and cool to her touch.
She turned to the bed - and to the box.

Again she approached it slowly, as if savoring the idea of its opening.
The lid lifted free of the box, and the tissue waved slightly upward at
her as if beckoning her hand inside.  She pulled it back and exposed the
contents, shining dully in the soft light in her room.

She pulled the tiny wisps of silk stockings from the box.  Black, with
seams.  They were as light as smoke, and and their silk felt almost
flesh-warm in her hand.  They were made to the contours of a shapely
leg.  Fine stockings, real silk stockings, and beneath them were nestled
two garters, royal purple with the tiniest of silver roses sewn to them.
She sat on the edge of her bed and smoothed the stockings on her legs,
delighting in the feel of their cling to her skin. She pulled the
garters up to the stocking tops and looked down at their deep color
shining against her firm white thighs.  She felt a stirring inside of
her, a delicious warmth.  She stroked a tentative finger over the
opening of her lips, and felt the slight dampness already there.  She
looked at her legs in the seamed stockings, turning them this way and
that.  She again stroked the lips of her sex, and they seemed to pout
slightly as if urging her to explore further.  She lay back on the bed,
her feet still on the floor.  Her large breasts flattened out, her
nipples pointing at the ceiling.  She felt supple and loose.  Her hand
pressed lightly and a finger slipped onto her clitoris. She groaned
slightly.  A knot felt as if it were tying itself in her abdomen, a
knot of Gordian proportions.  She made only the slightest motions over
her clit, and her entire body quivered.  She sat up abruptly, her eyes
wide. She had never been so aroused before.  She felt as if she would
do anything, anything to assuage the feeling inside of her.  The knot
inside of her continued to tighten, and she felt the wetness spread
inside of her.  She stood up, and turned back to the box.

Now the only thing visible inside of the box was a large black object.
She pulled it from the box and held it up in front of her.  It was a
bustiere, tiny crystals worked into floral patterns on its boned satin.
Miniscule black jet beads dangled from the center of each flower, and
when the fabric shook it made a noise like cool rain at sunset.  She
crushed it slightly in her hands, listening to the rustle of satin and
the tinkle of beads.  It laced up the front, thank goodness.  She pulled
it around her body and laced herself tightly, feeling the boning pinch
in her waist and the laces pull the satin tightly around her, flattening
her breasts against her ribs, making them swell upward into perfect
half-moons above the breast cups.  She tied the laces in a bow knot and
ran her fingers over the hard arches of her compacted breasts.  She felt
her nipples harden and swell, and her fingers fondled them as they
protruded slightly through the fabric.

Now that she had removed the bustiere, a few more items were shown to
lay in the box.  A black velvet choker with tiny purple and silver
rosettes to match her garters.  She tied it around her neck.  A thin
whisper of apron, so thin she could see the freckle on her left wrist
underneath its shadow.  She tied this around her waist.  A maid's cap,
all of white lace.  She pinned it to her head with experienced fingers.
The box was now empty, the white tissue stirring slightly in the breeze
from the air conditioning.  She turned to one of her packages, and took
from it a shoe box. She put the black patent high heels on the floor and
slipped her feet into them, loving the feel of the way they curved her
foot and made the muscles in her calves tighten.  She walked over to the
bedroom mirror and looked at herself.  I don't know what it is, she
wondered.  For some reason, tonight I think I am beautiful.  She ran her
hands down her laced hourglass figure.

She unwrapped her last purchases.  The long black evening coat and its
matching hat and bag now lay on the bed.  She checked her watch. Just
enough time to drink a soda and then she would have to go.  Then she
*could* go.  She grasped the coat, bag and hat and headed down the
stairs slowly in her towering heels.

She almost parked in the employee's lot before she remembered why she
was there.  She pulled up to the valet's booth and handed him her keys,
ignoring his looks from her expensive coat and hat to her cheap Japanese
car.  She walked into the hotel, quick strides taking her across the
lobby away from the hotel desk.  She pushed the button by the elevator,
smiling at her shining red-polished nails, and waited for the car which
would take her up to the third floor.

She stepped inside the car, looking with pleasure at her reflection in
the mirror.  To all the world she appeared a well-dressed young woman,
possibly meeting a friend for a night of clubbing.  The climb was slow,
the elevator silent. She moved her weight from one foot to another in
anticipation.

She checked her watch.  It was 11:56.  She was only a few minutes early.
She would walk slowly.

Her spike heels dug into the nap of the plush carpeting as she walked
down the hall.  It felt so odd to her to be here at what she knew was
the wrong time of day, even though the corridors looked the same as they
did when she was here as a cleaning woman.  There were faint sounds of
laughter coming from 308.  A room-service tray lay in the floor by the
door to room 311.  The door to room 313 was ajar, and a woman's voice
said something about not being able to find her other earring.

She rounded the corner of the corridor and stood in front of the door to
314.  The tingling and the warmth were growing in her as her excitement
mounted, constricting her breathing as much as the tightly laced
bustiere.  She pulled her stolen maid's passkey card from her handbag
and held it up to the slot in the door.  I am going to do this, she
thought.  I am.  She slid the card through the lock, pushed on the
handle and slipped through the door.

The room was illuminated only by the city lights showing through the
opened curtains.  He had pulled open the patio door, and the faint
sounds of the city floated up and into the room, borne by a slightly
cool breeze.  She shrugged her coat from her shoulders and carefully
removed her hat, not disturbing the tiny maid's lace cap she had hidden
underneath.  She took her bag and the coat and hat and put them on a
chair near the patio door.

His form was lay still on the bed.  He lay slightly curled on his side.
She stood for a moment looking at his outline under the white sheet, and
wondered if he was really asleep. It seemed to be true, as his breathing
caused a quiet rise and fall of his chest.

She remembered his note.  She went to the vanity and searched for the
ashtray, and took the box of matches she found there, striking one.  The
candles were there, just as he had said they would be.  She lit them,
all of them, and placed them around the room.  As she put the candle by
the nightstand, Rob's sleeping form stirred.  She looked down at him.
He did not awaken.

She looked in the drawer as she had been instructed.  The bottom drawer
on the left inside the armoire, she had read.  They were there.  She
drew them from the drawer and caught her breath. She felt moisture
creeping down the inside of her thighs, making them grow slippery as her
arousal heightened.  She returned to the bed.

She looked down at Rob.  She wanted him fiercely.  She wanted to feel
him inside of her.  But first, she would carry out his wishes, as he had
promised to carry out hers - her wishes which he seemed to know
instinctively.

She gently put her hand to Rob's arm and stroked the skin beneath his
light, fine hair.  She slipped a padded bracelet around his wrist and
locked it, then stretched his arm out to his side, just as she had been
instructed.  There was plenty of narrow silver chain attached to the
bracelet, and she locked it securely to the post of the bed.

She gave Rob's chest a slight push, and he rolled over onto his back,
mumbling softly to himself.  She cuffed and secured his other arm.

She stood there looking at him.  Lying on his back with his arms pulled
slightly away from his body, she saw the outline of his muscles lying
under the skin.  Not a muscular man, but with pleasing planes of flesh
flat here, curved there. His chest hair was fine and light brown.  She
ran her hand lightly over it, making him stir.  His nipples were small,
the aueroles a light tan, almost indetectable from his suntanned skin.
A tentative finger ran over one, and she felt it harden into a tiny
button. She leaned over him and licked it.

Rob murmured again.  He must be dreaming, she thought.  His head rolled
to one side and she looked at his face in profile, his eyelashes short
and dark lying against his cheeks.  His hair was dark, but it shined
with golden highlights in the candlelight.

She put her hands to the sheet covering Rob's body.  It was smooth and
warm, the heat from his body taking away its cotton coolness.  She moved
it down slightly, uncovering his stomach.  His chest hair flowed inward
to a tiny line which went to his navel, and then continued under the
sheet out of her sight.  It darkened slightly as her eyes followed it
downward.  She pulled the sheet down just an inch further. His pelvis
carved a v-shape on each side of his flat stomach, as if pointing
downward.  She saw the first slight curve of his hips.  He stirred
slightly, and the sheet moved in her hand.  The top of his curly
triangle could now be seen, dark brown, thick.  She stood looking at it
for a moment, the corner of the sheet still clutched in her hand. Her
heart pounded.  The heat between her legs was almost uncomfortable,
relieved only by the sliding of her secret flesh.  She bit her lower lip
with strong, white teeth.  She pulled the sheet in a diagonal motion,
and it slid in its entirety from Rob's sleeping body.

His cock was not hard, but lay slowly lengthening against his thigh.
The sight of it sent a hot pang through her.  His legs were long, the
muscles relaxed but defined clearly in his thighs and calves.  She
forced herself to look at him in his entirety, but her eyes kept
returning to the object of her fascination.  She had never been able to
look at a man like this before, without shame, without the feeling that
she herself was being watched.  She drank in the sight of him like wine,
and like wine it made her feel randy and giddy.

She felt her lust fiercely.  She wanted this man.  She wanted this cock
to harden and to sink into her, to feel those arms wrapped around her,
to feel that chest pressed to hers.  She wanted his lips upon hers.  Her
body was demanding to be given free reign.  Her mind, with its twisting
and turning and points of pain and past shames retired, defeated.  She
felt tingling, alive, free.  She put her hand to his cock, and then
wrapped her fingers around it, the red polished nails shining against
its dark length.

She stroked it gently.  Rob stirred, and his breathing deepened.  His
lips parted slightly and a small sound came from him as his cock stood
at attention in her hand.  She caressed it, watching the head flesh out
and redden.  She bent down and put her lips to it, running her tongue
along its groove.  She heard Rob gasp lightly.  Flicking her gaze to his
face, she could see his eyes were still closed.  She closed her own in
return.  Licking her lips, she took his cock in her mouth and pushed it
to the back of her throat.

He tasted so good, so good.  Her entire body vibrated with the thought
of having his cock in her mouth.  Her lips tight upon its shaft, her
tongue made figures against the head. His hips moved slightly, in time
to the rhythm of her long strokes.  She heard the pull of a thin silver
chain against a wooden post.  He was awakening.  She moved her head over
his cock faster.

There was a groan.  She straightened, keeping a light friction on his
cock with strokes of her hand.  He looked up at her, his eyes still
clouded with sleep.  "Oh god."  He whispered.  "Jenn."

She gave him a guileless look.  "Good morning, sir."  She tightened the
grip of her fingers on his hardness, and he looked down at her hand
wrapped securely around his cock. His eyes widened, and cleared.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir.  Shall I finish up some other time?"
She opened her palm and rubbed it against the underside of his cock, her
fingers lightly touching his balls.  "I'm told that you have a plane to
catch this afternoon, and I wanted to make sure you realized how we have
enjoyed having you."  She smiled a sly smile.  "We hope you come again
and again."  She was enjoying this game.

He groaned in reply as her fingers roamed over his inner thighs.  He had
pulled slightly on his cuffs, and had found that his hands could not
reach her, or even his own body. He arched his back, thrusting his cock
against her hand.

She pushed his body slightly, and he made room for her on the bed.  She
stood on the mattress on her knees, swaying slightly, the beads on her
bustiere making sounds like minute bells.  She posed there for a moment
and let him take in the sight of her.  His gaze was making her breasts
ache and yearn to be set free, so that he could look at them, and want
to touch them.

She impulsively bent down again and took his cock back into her mouth.
She moved around so that her bare ass moved slightly in his view as her
head bobbed up and down.  She let his cock slip from her mouth and ran
her tongue down the underside of his shaft, nibbling and sucking on his
entire length.  She flicked her tongue across his balls and then took
one into her mouth, breathing hotly upon it, tonguing it;  then she
released it and pleasured the other.  She ran her lips over his sac to
the junction of his leg and groin, and he squirmed under her attentions,
his hands straining at the cuffs, his body trying to escape her mouth,
as he cried out to her to stop.

"Stop?"  She asked.  "Why stop now?"  Her lips glistened as she grinned
up at him.  "Oh, you're not ticklish, now are you?"  She licked him
there again, and he writhed under her and laughed.  His laughter soon
turned into gasps again as she took his full length down her throat.

He started to moan and she could hear his restraints pulling at the
posts.  He was thrusting his cock upward to meet each downward stroke of
her lips.  "Oh yes."  He hissed.  "Oh god, you're going to make me
come."

"Oh, no you don't."  She said, a wide white smile on her face.  He
watched as she worked her way forward until the lips of her pussy
hovered just over his lips.  "See what you've done to me?  Be nice to me
and maybe I'll set you free for being so good."

Without speaking, he darted his tongue between her wet lips.  He probed
deeply inside of her, stroking the tiny inner lips of her pussy with his
tongue.  She moved against him slightly, feeling the warm softness of
his lips and the abrading stiffness of his mustache on her clit.  She
let out a moan, her hands opening her thighs wide for him.  Her
trembling shifted her body slightly, and she gasped as he sucked on her
clit, nibbling it, making her jerk with pleasure and moan with approval.

She moved away from his face, her hair wild around her from her
movements.  She inched backward, and he lifted his hips to her.  "Ride
me, Jenn."  He whispered, his eyes glowing. "Ride me.  I want to watch
you come with me inside of you."

"All in good time."  She purred, arching over him, brushing him lightly
with her dripping cunt.  She took his cock into her hand, squeezing it
tightly, placing it inside her burning pussy, sliding up and down
against his shaft, holding him against her wetness, using him to
masturbate her hungry clit.  Her breasts quivered under the tightness of
the bustiere.

"Let me see your beautiful tits."  He rasped to her, his voice gruff
from the straining of his cock against her wet silk.

She continued to rub her mound lightly against him as she reached behind
her to untie the tiny band that held the shred of maid's apron she wore.
Her hands caressed her body as she ran them up her figure, moving to her
breasts, running her fingers over the hard mounds over the cups as she
reached for the laces of the bustiere to unknot them. She smiled down
into his eyes, never taking her gaze from him as she pulled the laces
open, exposing her cleavage, her stomach, her navel.  She pulled the
parted pieces of her bustiere open slowly, her tits emerging inch by
inch to his view.  His cock was kicking against her in fits and starts.

With one hand she held him to her, and as she rubbed his cockhead
against her clit she pulled on her nipples, tugging and twisting at
them, harder and harder.  She was taking a devious pleasure in getting
herself so close to orgasm and then backing away.  She grew more and
more excited at the thought of him watching her masturbate herself with
his cock. She sat still, sliding his cock across her clit from side to
side, the feeling make her throb wildly, knowing that it was an intense
pleasure to him to feel her on his sensitive underside, but not one that
would make him come. She watched the desire in his face grow, knowing he
wanted her to make him shoot hot cum all over the inside of her pussy.
She teased him gently about the heat radiating from his thick cock.

"You want me to slide my pussy down over this fat cock and make you
come, don't you?"  She asked, breathlessly.  "You want to come so bad,
don't you?"  She reached back to fondle his tight balls.

"Let me go."  He groaned.  "You have to let me go.  I've got to feel my
cock slide into you."  He thrashed as she made short, tight strokes of
her hand on his hardness.

"Oh?"  She whispered fiercely.  "Is that all?  You just want to feel
this pussy around your cock?"  She reared up just the slightest, and
slammed herself down over his cock and then pulled it out in one swift
motion.

She struggled with herself to not bury him inside of her and draw them
both to orgasm right then.  God, how she wanted to, how she wanted to
feel his lips sucking her tits, how she wanted him to thrust into her
and fill her with his hot cum.  She breathed out hoarsely.  He moaned
softly as she again used his cockhead against her clit, rubbing the soft
ridges of it in circles around it.  She felt the knot in her abdomen get
ever tighter, she wanted to scream with the hot, delicious feeling it
was causing in her.  She held her breath as she reached a peak, and her
eyes shut tightly, her entire body concentrating on the one spot that
was giving her incredible pleasure.  She heard his voice urging her on,
telling her to come, to make him make her come.  Her pleasure became
unbearable, and she cried out, stridently. A terrific shudder overtook
her and she fell forward onto Rob's chest, breathing heavily.

She lay there for a few moments, gaining her breath, listening to him
whisper in her ear, feeling his unreleased cock kick up against her ass.
She drew herself up onto her arms, straight out on both sides of his
chest.  She looked down at him and smiled.

"Thank you."  She said.  "That was quite nice."  She pulled her leg from
across his body and lay beside him a moment, teasing him with her
finger.  Then she left the bed and stood up.

"That was very nice indeed."  Her breathing was back to normal, and she
pushed at her disheveled hair with her hands, brushing it away from her
face.  "I'm sure you're tired too from everything I made you do.
Perhaps it would be best if I moved on to service room 315?"  She gave
him the sweetest of smiles, her face bland, and walked a few steps away
from the bed.

"If I was set free, you beautiful brazen hussy, you'd find out the
meaning of the word 'service'." Rob said, growling and thrusting his
hips at her.  His cock waved in the air, filled with the desire she had
built, and he struggled to set himself free of his self-induced bonds.

She moved back to the side of the bed and put her hand to his cock,
feeling its firey warmth.  She glided her hand down its slippery shaft,
still lubricated with her juices. With each stroke the muscles in his
thighs tightened and released.  His breathing deepened again.  He
watched her as she moved her hand away again, whispering "cock tease" to
her when she stood gazing at the glistening drop of moisture that
appeared from the opening in his cock.  His face showed relief as she
climbed up from the foot of the bed between his legs, and dangled her
heavy breasts on either side of his erection.  She grabbed her breasts
with both hands and teased her nipples into hardness with the feel of
his hot cock, and then placed it between them, sliding them between
their cool flesh.  She stroked him this way, licking at the head, taking
it whole into her mouth when she could.  He met the rhythm of her
slides.  She looked up and saw his hands clenched into fists, and felt
his cock become harder, the head more well-defined, and she knew he was
on the edge. She fell forward and took him deep inside her, his cock
almost down her throat;  she felt him start to shake and he let out a
long moan as he started to come in her mouth, and she hungrily swallowed
it as each jet hit, hot and creamy, against the back of her throat.

She released him from his bindings and lay down beside him. He rolled
over to face her and took her in his arms, and kissed her, his tongue
licking hers.  His entire body seemed hot, and it felt good against
the coolness of her skin.

She hummed low in her throat as she broke from his kiss.  "Mmm.  That
was good."  She ran a hand up through his hair.

"It's your turn now."  He nibbled on her neck, making the hair on her
body stir.  She squirmed under him as he kissed her throat and down
to her breasts, his breath brushing lightly over her skin.  Her
nipples, already hard and distended, burned under his touch.  His
lips found one, and he pulled it into his mouth, sucking gently as
his hand grasped the globes of her ass.  He fondled it, one finger
running lightly through the cleft.  His touch seemed to leave tiny
trails of awareness on her flesh.

She shifted slightly, lying on her back.  He grasped her hand and
pulled it to his cock, letting her feel the swelling of his new
erection.

"Again so soon?"  She teased.  She kneaded his shoulders as his mouth
moved from one nipple to the other.

"I'll last even longer now."  He said, moving up to kiss her ear.
"I'll have you begging me to come in you.  I'm going to fuck you
all night."  He moved between her legs, and rubbed his semi-erect
cock in her wet sex;  she felt it grow as he pushed it against her.
He held the lips open wide and touched his cock to her opening.
"Oh god, what a sight, Jenn."  He said, looking down.  "The sight
of your sweet pussy ready to take my cock inside of you."  He pushed
forward, and his length slipped into her.  "Oh yes... just like that."

His cock inside of her felt so good.  She whispered to him how
good it felt to have him inside of her, filling her;  his fingers
rubbed her distended clitoris, he murmured to her how lovely she
looked lying there before him, her legs wrapped around his waist,
her breasts swaying as he stroked slowly in and out of her cunt.
A hand reached down to fondle her breasts, palm rubbing in circles
over her nipples as he slowly, slowly brought her to orgasm.
It felt so different this time, no screaming knot built up inside of
her, but as if she was being overwhelmed by water, a tide washing
over her harder and stronger until she was submerged in its warm
wetness, a burst of sweetness releasing her.  He gasped as she
convulsed around him, but never stopped his gentle rocking inside
of her.  She held up her arms to him, and he leaned over her,
kissing her breathlessly.

"I want you to come inside of me."  She shifted her hips downward,
as if to make it harder for him to stroke outward.  "I want to feel
it."  He felt so good inside of her, but she wanted to feel the
way he would swell inside of her when he came, to feel his whole
body tense as he stroked nearer and nearer to his breaking point.
She wanted to hear him cry out to her as he flooded her with his
orgasm.

"Turn over."  He said, withdrawing his cock from her.  He lifted
her leg with his hand, and she rolled onto her knees.  He remained
kneeling, and put one knee between her legs and one ouside of them.
 He pushed into her, and she felt him go deep inside;  it felt as
 if she had never been penetrated quite so deep before.

The freedom of her body and the feeling of his cock moving in her
faster and faster were bringing her to the brink again.  She
pushed back against his cock, urging him to haste, begging him
to make her come and to come with her.  She couldn't stop herself
from thrusting harder and harder, to take all of him inside of
her, every inch, every tiny increment of his length must be
buried deep inside of her.  He grabbed her hips and reciprocated,
thrusting into her as if breaking a wild horse to the saddle.
She again tensed, knowing that she was only seconds away from
another orgasm, and she called out to him to feel her come.
When she did, her body shook, and her arms buckled beneath her.  She
rested her forehead on her forearms, and felt the pull of her
tightened cunt grip Rob's cock, every stroke of him pulling on
her already spasming clitoris, driving her to pull on him even
tighter.

"Oh yes!"  He was shouting.  "I'm going to come inside of you..."
His words trailed off into loud groans; his thrusting stopped as
she felt him stretch the walls of her pussy and start to come into
her.  She felt frenzied, she reared back against him, continuing
the thrusting as he came, and his grip on her hips tightened,
his groans louder and louder as he came inside of her in jet
after jet after jet.

He toppled over onto her back, and lay there, sweating, breathing
heavily.  After a time, he moved from over her and lay on his back,
pulling her into his arms.  He kissed the top of her head, and she
lay it on his chest.  She could hear his heart beating wildly.

Held in his arms, she slept.

The next morning, when she awoke, he was gone.  There was a note
beside the bed.  A note, just like the one she had seen yesterday,
on hotel stationery, addressed "For Jenn."  The sentiment was
much shorter this time.  It read "I love you.  Goodbye."

She kept the note for many years.