Chapter 1. Room Service
After an exhausting day of negotiations, Carmen was back at her hotel room. She had worked so hard to win a good price for the shareholders. As she put the key in the door, she recalled how she had gone round after round with the buyers. She thinks to herself, 'Miss Carmen, you are proving to be a formidable Intellectual Property attorney'.
She dropped her key, briefcase and purse on the bed, picked up the phone and dialed 2222 for room service.
"Yes, this is Carmen in room 3905, I would like to order dinner. I would like the petite filet mignon, medium rare with sautéed onions and mushrooms, fresh steamed green beans, baked potato with sour cream, a bottle of Perrier and a half bottle of Bordeaux...A half hour?...That's fine. Thank you."
Carmen started the shower. She walked to the door unbuttoning her silk blouse as she went. She opened the door and pushed out the security lock to hold it ajar. She had spent months at the hotel and felt quite safe on the 39th floor and besides, the last thing she needed today was to have to jump out of a steamy, relaxing shower to let in room service.
When she got to the closet, she hung her skirt, blouse and jacket then dropped her bra, panties and stockings on the closet floor. Now free of her business attire, she clicked the TV to a music channel playing smooth Jazz and turned up the volume.
She grabbed the bottles of body wash and shampoo from the vanity in the bathroom and slipped into the steamy shower. She stood under the spray and let the hot water wet her. She put her hands on the wall and just leaned there enjoying the relaxing heat. As she lathered her hair she recalled how she had painstakingly calculated the maximum value for each item in the comprehensive catalog of patents being sold to fund the firm's change of direction.
She poured body wash into the wet wash cloth and slowly washed herself from her face and neck down her chest and around her breasts, stimulating her nipples as she moved the cloth lightly around her firm globes. She washed up under her left arm to her wrist and and switched the cloth to her left hand to clean down her right arm. After she quickly washed her midsection and her ass, she washed down one leg and back up the other then paused in her pubic area.
By now the cloth had lost its soap, but it still felt great as it brushed across the tip of her clit. She paused and rubbed her clit until it engorged and got hard. She dropped the cloth and pressed her clit with her right thumb as she inserted the first two fingers of her right hand into her pussy. She squeezed her fingers up as she rolled her thumb back and forth. The pressure was intense and she was far closer to an orgasm than she thought she'd be.
She squeezed again then withdrew her fingers before she could release. She brought her hand up to her face and inhaled the salty scent. "Mmmm," she thought, "I wish..." then she noticed the shower going cold. Having a cold shower is not how she wanted to cum, so she shut the water and opened the curtain.
She slipped into the hotel's robe and wrapped her hair up in a towel. Her iPhone was sitting on the vanity with the earbuds. She slipped the earbuds in, turned on a quick mix from her playlist and slid the phone into the robe pocket. She was now in her own little world. She grabbed the body lotion, flicked off the bathroom light and headed for the bed.
I knocked on the door and said, "Miss Carmen? Miss Carmen, room service. Miss Carmen, may I bring in your dinner?"
No one answered. Sometimes guests leave the door propped when they want us to just bring in the cart. Since the door was ajar, I did just that. As I rolled the tray into the room, I noticed there was no light but the glow from the TV. Across from the TV on the bed, I could see Carmen. She was leaned back against a stack of pillows. Her robe was open and her damp hair caressed her shoulders.
She was rolling her hips slightly in time to something other than the jazz music playing on the TV. Her movements seemed more like something Latin, maybe a Salsa. I noticed the white wire from her earbuds extending down between her tan breasts to a player beside her in the bed. She squeezed a generous amount of coconut-mango scented body lotion from the complementary bottle we supply in every guest room into her hand. She closed her eyes again and smiled as she began to apply it at her neck, down her chest and around her breasts.
Seeing she wasn't interested in anything else going on in the room, I took the tray off the cart and carried it to the desk, which was at the opposite side of the room near the window. I crossed the length of the room, paying attention to avoid the duvet she had kicked off the foot of the bed. After setting the tray, I closed the curtains. Not that there was anyone spying. On the 39th floor we were far above any of the neighboring buildings. We always closed the curtains as part of our turn-down service, each night.
I opened the wine to let it breathe and placed the silver and linens for her. I left the warming cover on the plate so it wouldn't get too cold before she was ready for it. I pulled out the chair and was about to leave when her right hand slid down her belly and she lightly moaned. I think I must have gasped a little at seeing that because she opened her eye just a bit and smiled.
I turned the chair to face the bed and she nodded as I sat down. She continued moving her hands about her breasts, belly, and pubic area. She moved them slowly, randomly yet effortlessly. She changed her touch from the flat of her hands to her fingers, to fingernails to backs of fingers as she sought a variety of sensations.
After a few minutes, she seemed to focus more on her vagina and throbbing pink bulb that emerged above it. She pushed down with her fingers. Her index and ring fingers took the sides and her middle finger flicked the tip of her clit as she squeezed with the other fingers. She maintained the pressure and she pulled her hand up and slid it down again.
I sat there mesmerized. The more she played the more pressure I felt in my trousers as my cock expanded and pressed against the fabric. I've never been closer and further away from such a tempting sexual situation. I could lose my job for touching her unbidden. She continued sliding her right hand up and down stimulating her vulva as she teased her nipples with her left hand. I found my hands moving toward my sex as well. there was a small damp spot where a drop of pre-cum had emerged. This isn't going to be easy.
Carmen increased the pressure on her clit and moved her left hand down so she could insert two fingers between her wet lips. "Mmmm," as she moaned I squeezed my cock, which was starting to throb. She pushed her fingers in deep and pressed upward as she rubbed her clit harder and faster.
In just a few moments she seemed to tense every muscle in her body. She squeezed her legs together and finally relaxed her right hand and withdrew her left.
I sat there watching as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Her eyes were still closed and she was still listening to the music from her iPhone when I reached back to the tray for her check. I wrote a few lines and placed it back on the tray, propped against the open wine bottle.
I stood and readjusted my trousers, reset the chair and found my room service cart. As I quickly and quietly left the room, I pushed back the door prop so the door would shut securely. I don't know how long it would be before she would be up or if she might not just fall asleep.
The orgasm was so intense that Carmen lay reflecting and relaxing through two more songs before she remembered how hungry she was. She became aware of the smells of her dinner—the seared meat and mushrooms, the faint fragrance of the red wine.
She sat up, gathered the robe closed, turned off the iPhone and popped out the earbuds. She arched her back and stretched as she threw her legs off the side of the bed on the side nearest the window. She didn't want to waste any steps before tasting her dinner. She lifted the wine glass and took a sip as she sat in the chair.
She lifted the cover off the plate of food and savored the aroma, then took her fork and tasted one of the mushrooms. It was tender and sweet and now she realized she really craved the juicy red meat laying on a bed of wild rice. She picked up the knife and carved off a small slice. She considered the rosy pinkness and delicately slipped it between her teeth, "Mmmm, delicious as always. I must send an extra tip when I check out tomorrow."
She quickly devoured the meal, sipping the Perrier between bites and finally finishing the first glass of wine. As she lifted the bottle to refill her glass, she noticed the check fall off the tray.
She was about to file it with her other receipts when she noticed the writing, "Dinner is on the house, Miss Carmen. Thanks for the show, Eduardo."
Replacing the note, she poured the wine. She let her robe slide off her shoulders and climbed back into bed. She found an old black and white movie on the TV and lay back and began massaging in the body lotion. As she was touching her breasts and body she tried to remember how the room service boy looked. She fell asleep to the warm feeling from the wine and the memories of the evening call her to a place of pleasant dreams.
Chapter 2: Eduardo's Tip
The sunlight from a crack between the heavy, room-darkening curtains crept across the pillow and began its rapid ascent up Carmen's face. As it climbed her cheek, her eye twitched. She groaned then squinted. "Morning already?" She asked stretching and looking for the clock. Nine thirteen.
"Nine thirteen, shit!" She has not begun to pack for her flight home; the breakfast closes at ten and she is a sweaty mess. The TV is still on. She had fallen asleep to some old movie. They must be replaying it because she remembered this spot in the story.
Her iPhone fell out of the pocket when she threw off the robe. "Shit! Is the whole day going to go like this?" She wondered out loud. Then silently her thought continued, "probably not: once I fully wake up." She put the iPhone on the desk by the tray with the dishes from her late dinner. She smelled the gelled meat juice and her mouth watered. Then she saw the note signed Eduardo and something else started to water.
She quickly grabbed her traveling clothes and ran to the bath. She took a short, lukewarm shower just to rinse off. She toweled off then slipped on her maroon Kashmir pullover, dark silk stockings, and camel colored wool skirt and matching jacket. She grabbed her room key and ran for the elevators.
It was 9:22. I had set her usual table with today's papers, a plate of fruit—strawberries, pineapple, grapefruit sections and melon, a cup of Greek yogurt, a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice and a cup with a carafe of hot coffee. She breezed in, quickly scanned the room then went to the table.
She removed her jacket, folded it and laid it on the empty chair. As she was about to sit, I said, "Please, allow me." She met my eyes, smiled, and nodded as I helped her scoot the heavy chair across the thick carpet. I placed the napkin in her lap.
Smiling she said, "Thank you. Eduardo, is it?"
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