“This way please, Sir. Your bags have been delivered to your room.”
I watched her as she led me up the stairs; my eyes following the black seam on her stockings which disappeared under a tight black skirt that hugged her hips and ass, her high heels silent on the plush red carpet. She glanced back over her shoulder and offered me little smile. Her lips were painted a deep, dark red and were perfectly shaped against her smooth ivory skin.
Turning the key, she opened the door to my suite and slipped inside, turning on the lights. She gestured to the left, “The bathroom,” she walked on, pointing out things, “your luggage, Sir, and here is your bed.” She turned to face me, her eyebrows high, silently checking if I had a question.
I took a twenty from my wallet and held it out to her, “Thank you.”
Dipping her head, she looked up at my from under her dark lashes, a faint blush colouring her cheeks, “I’m sorry, Sir, we are not allowed to accept tips here. But thank you,” her voice was soft.
“I would be tempted to ask to you to make an exception for me but I don’t want to get you into trouble,” I replied.
She walked towards me, her brilliant blue eyes locked on mine, stopping a foot from me. I could smell her perfume, a woody, musky scent.
She reached out and pointed to a small button on the wall. I was surprised to notice her chipped nail polish, everything else about her was immaculate.
“If you want anything… anything at all, Sir, please just press this and I will come. I am here to serve you. Anything…”
She squeezed past me, barely brushing my chest with her shoulder and clicked the door closed.
I napped for a while, tired from my journey, and woke naked under the soft cotton sheets. My crotch throbbed with want. I closed my eyes and pictured her in her fitted classic black maid’s uniform, her curves hugged by the restrictive fabric. I imagined ripping her blouse open with my blade and exposing her milky white breasts. I wondered what her nipples were like… I decided they would be small and pink.
I thought of her kneeling before me, head bowed, the nape of her neck exposed beneath the impeccably shaped blue-black 1920’s style bob as she awaited instruction.
I thought of the things I wanted to do to her body. How I wanted to feel her skin redden under my palm as I spanked her generous, round bottom. How I wanted to trace my knife along her skin, leaving pink lines, as she lay completely still for me. How I wanted to push her head against my groin, making her take the full length of my cock into her throat.
A groan escaped my lips.
My eyes wandered to the small service button across the room, and I thought, “She had said if I needed ‘anything’”…
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