Room Service

The first thing you should know is that my English isn't that good. It's much better now, after a long arduous period of reading the same old "English for Dummies" book I found in one of the rooms inside a waste basket but, back then, I could barely make myself understood when I was forced to actually speak with the tourists and couldn't just nod my way through every situation. Anyway, the language barrier shouldn't keep me from telling you the story more or less the way it happened.

It wasn't the first time I had done something of the kind. The first was that fat German doctor who stayed in the hotel for some lecture about skin disease taking place in the smallest of our two conference rooms. He had asked for a late night snack and, being on duty that particular night, it was up to me to take it. I knocked on the door, balancing the tray perfectly in one hand (I was always excellent at that) and heard him say something in German. I knocked again. He said something in German again. It sounded like the same thing but louder. It didn't take long to work out that if I knocked a third time I would get more of the same so I decided to risk it and open the door. The worse thing that could happen was not getting a tip and, after all, I had his food.

The first thing I thought of was putting down the tray on a table in the little foyer the room had and leaving, then taking the stairs instead of the elevator so I would have more time to erase that sight from my mind.

He was lying on his bed, stomach down and ass up. The ass was definitely up because I could see it clearly as soon as I entered the room. Two twin mountains of pale flabbiness so wide that they almost made the room look smaller (even if it wasn't one of our bigger rooms; conference people always get the cheaper deals).

As I was making my strategic retreat out, he said something in German again. I turned back and saw him looking at me and waving one half pink, half white arm at me, beckoning me to come in. I did. He pointed at the door and said something else. I closed it. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. The way the pink and the white struggled in his arm was intriguing. No. "Struggled" is not the right word. I told you my English wasn't good enough. The pink and the white had struggled years ago but, after a long period of hostilities and hundreds of casualties, had signed a peace treaty and settled a border that satisfied both parts. It was placed two or three fingers above the elbow.

The next moments were spent with me trying to figure out what the hell was going on and him continuing to speak (always in German) while, at the same time, taking his broad hands to his shoulders and squeezing the fat with his chubby fingers. Then he said the first word I could understand. Massage. That was it. He wanted a massage. And, apparently, he wanted me to give him one.

I had heard stories about that sort of thing told by other people who worked there. Apparently it was common procedure for hotel staff in the region to give the customers some "extras." An "extra" was something not included in the pricelist. Though it still had a price, of course. And it wasn't at all cheap (at least for our standards; for them it was just some innocent fun at a very affordable price). This went on with both the male and female staff and in high class, luxury hotels as well as in the cheaper places (ours was mid-range). The only difference was that, the pricier the hotel, the more a client would have to pay for the "extras" even if the quality of the service was exactly the same. Usual hotel procedure.

How the guests knew about it was beyond me. Apparently, the entire region had a reputation for being both a sunny beach paradise and a colossal brothel. The local tourism board knew this was how it worked, never encouraged it officially, of course, but didn't do anything to change things. It was good for business and nobody complained. They just failed to include it in their marketing campaign. A billboard saying "VISIT US! SUNNY BEACHES AND THE BEST EROTIC BACKRUBS MONEY CAN BUY!" placed strategically on the side of German, Dutch or British roads would destroy all the ambiance of sophistication everybody liked to pretend we had.

That's exactly how I like to remember it. An erotic backrub. I will spare you the details because I don't like to remember it and to tell you this I have remembered enough. Let's just say that I did what he expected, he never got off his stomach, I kept massaging his disgusting greasy back and that colossal ass while he reached one hand under him and moaned and groaned for some very short minutes, he let his face sink into the pillow and pointed to some bills rolled up in an ashtray. I had done good, apparently.

This, as I told you before, was the first time. There were lots of others after this one. Luckily for me, it was also the first and last male guest I had to provide "extras" to. I am not sure I would be able to go any further in that department and I was positive I didn't feel like repeating the experience.

So when that old American woman in room 16-A (one of the best and most expensive rooms we had) asked for a Caesar's Salad twenty minutes after she had gone up from the dining room I knew what to expect. And the fact that she was wearing the hotel's bathrobe and sitting on her bed looking at me with a wicked, depraved expression didn't surprise me at all. I placed the salad next to the flat screen TV (she never even touched it and I doubt she did when I left) and went straight to business. I was experienced enough in "extras" to know exactly what to do. I stood in front of her and asked in my poor English: "What else please?" She wet her lips and got her hand over my cock and balls, checking them for size. Apparently she was pleased because a huge smile appeared on her face as she untied the knot that kept the robe in place and presented me with a pair of tits that, for her age, weren't bad at all.

Even if I keep mentioning her age, don't think that she was some old wreck. She wasn't. She was probably in her late forties, didn't have what I would call an attractive face and didn't look like she ever did but she wasn't a scare. The thing is I was a lot younger at the time and so she almost seemed like something dug up from an excavation site to my eyes fresh out of adolescence. With time, I stopped thinking like that.

The woman got up, keeping the bathrobe open as it was, and went to the door, locking it. She then got back to where I was standing and started to remove my clothes. First she undid my belt and unbuttoned the pants, letting them drop to the ankles. Then it was time to take care of the shirt buttons, which she did with considerable skill. The shoes and socks next. Off with what was left of the pants and shirt and then she kneeled in front of me, looked up, smiled eagerly, and pulled my shorts down all the way. My cock jumped up like a switchblade knife and, if she hadn't moved her head slightly back, it could have taken one of her eyes out. At least, that's how I like to remember it. Like I said, I wasn't overly amazed by the quality of her merchandise but, being young and quite fit, I could squeeze an impressive erection out of anything, at any time and with virtually no stimulation. That is also gone. Unfortunately.

Her hand grabbed my cock and she rubbed it up and down a couple of times very slowly. Then she took it all the way down to my balls, squeezing the cock hard like she was trying to peel it. It started to hurt and I placed my hand over hers to relieve the pressure. She smiled again. More wickedly than before. Maybe she was into pain and that kind of stuff. I wasn't.

Back on her feet, she went around the bed and sat down on a small couch next to the window, pointing a finger with a long nail in the direction of the bed and saying something I didn't get but could guess. She sat down on the couch and I laid down on the bed. Her legs went on the arm supports of the couch and I was able to see her cunt wide open and realise at the same time she wasn't a real blonde. She started to caress the few scattered hairs she had down there and nodded in my direction, giving me that wicked smile once more. I grabbed my cock and started rubbing it, synchronized with her own movements. Her hand was now below the small patch of hair and was rubbing the two middle fingers in her right hand slightly over the clit with a circular motion.

"Close your eyes," she said and I did as I was told. I didn't want to give a bad name to the region in what concerned hotel customer care.

"Now think about me," she added.

There was really no point in thinking about her if she was standing right there next to me. So I thought about the young American girl in room 25-C and continued wanking, feeling how unfair it was that the young, beautiful ones never asked for extras.

"Good boy," I heard her saying, "you're a very good boy. I want to see you come. Come for me."

I did my best to please her and soon I was almost coming and decided to let her know that by throwing my head back and opening my mouth. I would come for the girl in room 25-C but there was no way she could know that and what she didn't know couldn't hurt her.

When I felt the orgasm coming, I heard her move. Peeking through my eyelids I saw her putting a knee on the bed and leaning over me. I closed my eyes again because she hadn't told me to open them. Her hand cupped my balls and I stroked my cock faster and faster. The glans was surrounded by her warm, moist lips and I let myself go, coming into her mouth. Once the show was over, she took over my cock, and kept stroking and sucking on it until it started to get limp. My eyes were open but I think she didn't care anymore.

Satisfied, she wiped the corners of her mouth, smiled again and again said:

"You are a very good boy."

I got up and started to pick up my clothes while she opened a drawer. When I was picking up my shirt she slipped a pleasant bunch of bills into the breast pocket and gave me a little wave on her way to the bathroom. I got dressed and left.

It wasn't long after that before my services were required again. This time it wasn't a Caesar's Salad but a cheese omelet. Not that I cared what the pretext was. The tip had been so generous that I was more than happy to be of service again.

I went right in. Didn't even bothered to knock because I thought she'd be expecting me. And she was expecting me all right. Her back turned to the door, leaned over the bed with legs spread. Her ass (I hadn't seen it before) was a lot more impressive than the German doctor's to say the least. She looked over her shoulder and gave me that smile. It was always the same smile.

"Lock the door."

I did and approached her. The cheese omelet was placed somewhere. I don't remember where. It was long ago and I think I remember a lot of details as it is. You won't hold it against me if I forgot this one. Instead I can tell you I was naked, feeling her ass cheeks with my two hands and expecting her to look back. She never did. I let my left index finger go down from her lower back, going though the space between her cheeks, feeling her ass hole twitch as I passed over it and letting it rest in her cunt which was already wet at the time. The way it felt and the way it smelled, I suspect she had been playing with herself before and called me just to finish it.

At this point I must admit I was rather confused and couldn't tell exactly what she wanted me to do.

"Ass?" I asked.

"No honey," she giggled, always facing the other way. "Pussy."

I stroked myself just enough to get hard (I should say in my defence that few minutes before I had been busy giving the same treatment to another guest, a Swedish woman with terrible hair, while her husband was too busy downstairs in a meeting with some whisky bottles).

In it went. She moaned slightly. I squeezed her cheeks and started to give it to her. In and out it went like my life depended on it. It didn't. But getting a good tip did. It was almost as important as the time.

"Faster," she said.

I fucked her faster. Her moaning grew stronger and faster as well.

"Faster," she said again.

Apparently she liked velocity. I gave it to her the best I could. Of course, at that rate, I wouldn't be able to make it last long, but if this was what she wanted this was what she was going to get.

With no surprises I came inside her. I pulled out and she told me to sit on the bed. I did. She picked up her phone from the table, dialed and said: "Ok." Then she hung up. I had no idea what that was about. She put down the phone, stood in front of me between my legs and kissed me.

Shortly after, someone knocked on the door. I got up and looked for my clothes but she pushed me down and, naked as she was, as we both were, she opened the door. I almost died of shock.

The girl from room 25-C got in, looked at me, measured me from head to toe, gave me a smile and a "hmmm" and immediately started to take her clothes off. The older woman sat on my lap and told the other one I was a "very good boy."

The girl didn't reply. It didn't seem fair. I had been having fantasies over this girl for days and now that I would have a chance to fulfill them my cock had already been busy three times that day. Not fair at all. I only hoped the gods of erection would be favourable.

The old woman got up from my lap and pushed me down, back against the mattress, holding my shoulders in place. Miss 25-C was now naked, shaved cunt, small perky tits, wide hips and a face that would make a brick turn around and go "Wow!" She spread my legs apart and got on her knees between then, going right away for my cock.

"It still has cum in it," she said.

"I left some for you," the other one replied. And the kind offer was taken. She started to suck me. I closed my eyes and focused, feeling my cock grow and harden inside her avid mouth.

All this time, the older woman was either holding my shoulders down and kissing me or reaching over me towards the girl and rubbing a pair of generous, soft breasts on my face. I occasionally gave her a nibble on a nipple when I could reach them. She seemed indifferent to that.

She wasn't as indifferent to what followed. The girl kept sucking me and the woman reaching over me towards her. Soon the girl stopped sucking and they were both kissing and fondling me in turns. At least that's what I think they did. I couldn't really see with the woman's ass all over my face and blocking my vision. She offered her cunt to me now wetter than ever. I accepted and started licking it. But that didn't last. Shortly after I wasn't licking her anymore. She was rubbing her cunt against my tongue. I could only leave my tongue out and let her have her way, starting to lose whatever control I had over the situation. They got tired of that and together dragged me further up the bed. I was being talked about, I could feel that, but didn't understand most of it. It wasn't really that important.

The girl from room 25-C was riding me, letting out long moans. The older woman was going from the girl's tits to licking my balls and her cunt. Then they switched. The older woman riding me with her back turned and the girl with legs spread over my face, holding on to the bed and seeming determined to wash my entire head in her moisture.

This went on for quite a while. The erection gods seemed favourable after all. Or maybe it was their diligent efforts to keep me up all that time. They kept switching positions. I was just being dragged along. One moment I was over one, then I was fucking the one from the side, holding one of her legs in the air while the other element in this human sandwich took care of the front. Back, front, side, side, front, back, front. We were all moaning and shouting obscenities like we were alone in the hotel. That occasion did more for my knowledge of English than any intensive course. Too bad I couldn't use all the nice words and expressions I learned from them in my daily contact with guests. "Good afternoon, madam. Would you like me to fuck you inside out?" It would be funny though.

We were almost done, anyway. The girl sat on the couch and smoked while I fucked the woman in the ass, pulling it out and cumming over her.

Then I fell to the side and closed my eyes. I expected some sleep. I wasn't going to get it.

"You were a very nice boy."

The woman was standing and holding out my clothes in a bunch. I got up and started to get dressed. She then went back to the same drawer she had got the money from the other day and gave me an even larger tip which was duly appreciated.

"Bye-bye," I said, looking longingly at the girl from 25-C.

She smiled and waved. The woman pushed me out while I was still buttoning up my shirt. They stayed in the room. Both of them. I can't tell you for how long because I looked for an empty room and slept for the rest of the afternoon. I would bet they kept going. Wouldn't surprise me at all.

This was years ago, as I said. After that, I learned she was some important executive in a hotel multinational. No idea who the girl was or how they were acquainted. Maybe they had just met there in the hotel.

Eventually the hotel was bought by that same multinational and we were all informed that according to the new company policies, there would be no more "extras." It was a matter of improving the reputation of the place in a time when the whole thing was becoming quite scandalous. People were starting to talk about it openly and that wasn't good for business. Decent people like to fuck around all they can but they don't like that to be of common knowledge.

So this is basically it. My story. Oh, I just forgot to tell you that I don't do room service anymore. I wouldn't mind, of course, but apparently it would be awkward for the hotel manager to be serving Caesar's Salads and cheese omelets. But I'm not in any way complaining. Most people here know how I got such an unexpected promotion and they probably talk about it behind my back. I don't care. I was just lucky, I guess.

In my desk drawer, where I keep important papers locked, I have the card she sent me with that memo saying I had been chosen to be the new manager and was expected to make sure the new company policy would be applied. There are only two words written in black ink.

"Good boy."