The Maid

John looked around the hotel room and frowned, every hotel room looked the same. Sure, the pictures on the wall were new, the layout of the room changed; though the air fresheners were different, the empty feeling never disappeared.

Whenever he had an extended stay at a hotel, he always felt entrapped by the sameness of the rooms. With a sigh, John plugged his laptop into the wall, and banged away on the keyboard, working on his newest novel.

Working on a chapter that he couldn't seem to get right, John was surprised to find himself inspired. The words seem to flow; the faster he typed, the faster the plot seemed to form itself on the monitor in front of him.

As he typed, he heard a light knock on the door and an almost whispered voice say, "Housekeeping."

He glanced at the door and realized that he had absentmindedly forgotten to put the "Do not disturb" sign out. Already interrupted, he decided to let the maid in. "Come in," he announced.

The door opened and he turned his attention back to the computer. Ignoring the maid, he continued to type rapidly.

"Excuse me," the maid said with a Spanish accent and pointing at her vacuum.

He stopped typing, deciding to take what he called a "brain break." He walked down the hall to a Coke machine, put in a dollar bill and pushed the bright red button. Opening the can, he returned to his room. As he opened the door, he collided with the maid as she backed out of the room, dragging the vacuum behind her. The Coke spilled onto his shirt and the back of the maid's blouse.

"I'm sorry," she said embarrassedly.

"No, it was my fault," he replied.

The maid grabbed a clean towel from her cart and rubbed the stain on his shirt. "No, it's okay. I can put on another one." John said as he looked at the dull brown stain.

"Sorry. I no speak mucho Inglès," she said. "You give me shirt? I clean."

"It's not a problem," he answered. "No problemo," he added.

"Si hay problema," she answered, smiling at his attempt to speak Spanish. "I take shirt. One hour I bring. Okay?"

"And your uniform? Let me pay to clean it." John said, raising his voice and pointing at her blouse as he reached for his wallet.

The maid looked down at her blouse then looked back at John, a confused expression on her face. Finally, she smiled and answered. "No, uniform no problemo." She laughed as she mimicked his attempt to speak Spanish. "You give shirt. One hour I bring. Okay?"

"No, it's fine. I can just put on another one."

The maid responded by putting her hands on his shirt, unbuttoning the top buttons. Surprised by her action, John jumped back and said. "Okay, I'll give you the shirt. Wait right here." He walked to the closet and picked out a fresh shirt. Putting it on, he returned to the maid and handed her the stained one.

"One hour. I bring," she said shyly.

John watched her leave, paying attention to what seemed an extra bit of wiggle in her hips. As she stepped into the elevator, he softly closed the door and returned to his computer.

Isabel walked down the hall to the service elevator, the handsome guest's shirt in her hand. Pressing the button for the basement, she tapped her toes impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach her destination.

The elevator doors finally opened, and she walked toward the laundry.

"Hey, Jose," she said in perfect English. "I spilled Coke on a customer's shirt. Can you clean it for me in an hour?"

"I can wash it, Isabel, but you'll have to press it yourself. Be back in forty-five minutes. Just put it on the counter," shouted a voice from the back.

She walked to the employees' locker room; since her shift was over, she changed into her normal clothes, denim shorts and a white shirt, tying the shirt at her rib cage. Reaching into her locker, she pulled out a college textbook, taking notes as she read the textbook. Finished studying, Isabel glanced up at the clock, put her book away and returned to the laundry room.

"The shirt's over there Isabel. You'll have to press it by hand though."

"Thanks, Jose."

She quickly pressed it and put it on a white hanger. Placing a plastic bag over it, she stepped to the elevator and made her way back to John's room.

Again, John reached a point in his novel that he couldn't seem to get past. He wrote the same sentence ten times; none of them sounded right. Deciding to stop writing for the night, he connected his computer to the room's modem port to check his E-mail.

The first message was from his publisher, pushing his meeting back another day. He glanced through the rest of the E-mail, most of it fan mail asking about his next book or complimenting one of his older ones. Not in the mood to answer the fan mail, he read through the messages and saved them to his computer one by one. Reaching the last message, he read it and saw that it had some kind of file attached to it. He clicked the download button and leaned into his chair.

Again he heard a knock at the door, John looked at the clock and realized that it must be the maid returning his shirt. He opened the door, surprised to see her dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a shirt tied to show off her midriff.

She smiled at him, held up his neatly pressed shirt and said, "See, one hour."

"Thank you," he said, pulling out his wallet again. "How much do I owe you?"

"No, no," she told him as she walked past him toward the closet.

"I have to give you something. At least let me pay for the cleaning of your uniform."

"Sorry, no speak Inglés," she replied hanging his shirt in the closet. Turning, she glanced at his computer and giggled embarrassedly.

"What?" John asked. He walked to his computer, surprised to see a picture of a topless woman wearing, or almost wearing a French maid costume. "No, it's not mine," he said as his face turned red. "Somebody sent it to me. Oh, never mind, you can't understand me anyway. I could tell you that you are a very beautiful woman with a gorgeous body and how much I would love to fuck you and you wouldn't understand a word. Here," he continued, pulling out a ten-dollar bill. "Let me pay for the uniform," he said pointing at her.

Isabel looked at the ten-dollar bill then at him. "No fuck ten dollars. No fuck para money."

John's face turned even redder and he stuttered, "No, no, you misunderstood. Not for fuck, I mean not for that, ten dollars for the uniform."

The maid smiled at him coquettishly, "No fuck ten dollar. No ten dollar para uniform. No problemo. Hasta mañana, papito," Isabel said with a smile as she walked out the door.

Isabel smiled as she left the room. Once she was safely in the elevator, she burst into laughter, remembering the expression on his face when she pretended to understand only the word 'fuck' from his little speech. Reaching her locker, she pulled out one of her uniform skirts and folded it, putting it neatly into her backpack.

Leaving through the employee entrance of the hotel, she headed toward her bus stop, stopping at a cleaners on the other side of the street. Walking in, she heard a buzzer sound, and soon an older Oriental gentleman approached her behind the counter.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"I need a skirt shortened by tomorrow, is that enough time?"

"We can have it for you by tomorrow."

She pulled the skirt out of her backpack, and set it onto the counter.

"How much do you need it shortened?"

Isabel grabbed the skirt again, and held it up to her waist. With her free hand, she folded the material over to about where she thought would be right. "This should be okay."

"That short? Why don't you try it on?"

"Do you think it's gonna be too short?"

"If you make it that short, most men would think it was perfect, but you might think it's too short. Why don't you put it on, you can change in there," he said pointing to a door.

"Thanks," she replied. She stepped into the changing room, and peeled off her shorts. Pulling the skirt over her hips, she looked in the mirror to where she had creased the material and had to admit that it would have been too short. She smoothed the material, and walked out.

"Come over here in front of the mirror," said the attendant.

She approached him. Once in front of the mirror, she folded the material over the middle of her thigh. "Like this. Thanks, you were right."

The man pushed some straight pins into the skirt and Isabel walked back into the changing room and changed into her shorts. Once at the counter, she asked him, "I need it early, though. Can you have it ready by noon? I need to pick it up during my lunch break."

"Noon? Okay," he replied, handing her a receipt. She walked out the door with a quick thank-you, and waited for her bus.

John woke up late the next morning, knowing that he would be staying at the hotel another four or five days. This was supposed to be a quick trip to meet with his publisher and his agent, but his editor kept pushing back his appointment. Luckily, or rather unluckily, he had nobody waiting for him at home, so he just stayed in his room, working on his new novel.

He rewrote the same sentence that antagonized him the day before another ten times before giving up. Deciding that he was thirsty, he headed for the Coke machine. When opened his door, he glanced down the hall and saw the maid from the day before grab some sheets from her cart and go into a room. Changing his mind about the Coke, he closed his door and returned to his room.

Isabel worked her way down the hall, changing the sheets and emptying the trash cans in the rooms. In the room before John's, she unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and adjusted her shortened skirt. She reached room 306 and knocked on the door. "Housekeeping," she announced. When he didn't answer, she felt disappointed. She had been looking forward to teasing him again.

The maid opened the door, walked into the room and found John sitting at the desk looking over his computer. "Sorry," She told him with a coquettish smile, "I come later."

"No, that's okay. Go ahead," he answered, using his hands to help explain what he meant.

Isabel quickly vacuumed the carpet and returned to her cart for fresh linens. She reentered the room, and stripped the dirty sheets from the bed. As she made the bed, she bent at her waist, hoping that he would look at her thighs. Earlier, she examined herself in front of a mirror and knew that he would be able to see to the top of the black thigh highs that she had put on for him. Making her way to the other side of the bed, she bent over and felt her breasts nearly fall out of her pushup bra and the top of her blouse.

She glanced at him in the mirror, hiding her smile as she watched him stare at her. Finished with making the bed, she carried the dirty linens to her cart in the hall. John sat at the desk, typing away on the laptop when she approached the him. "Excuse me," she said as she bent onto one knee to pick up the wastebasket next to him.

Isabel knew that he could look straight down her blouse; she could feel herself getting aroused, a familiar heat building between her legs. She stayed down for a second longer than necessary, letting him have a good look at her breasts as they spilled out of her bra. She stood, stumbling, putting her hand out to catch herself and it landed on his upper thigh. Pretending to be embarrassed, she looked into his eyes and whispered, "Sorry," as John sighed softly. As she removed her hand from his thigh, her fingers brushed against his erection and her breast rubbed against his leg. John smiled at her, pretending not to notice her touch. Isabel replaced the liner in the can, and walked out of the room, shutting the door gently behind her.

John watched the maid walk out of his hotel room. As the door closed behind her, his hand went to his erection. He stood, locked the door, and walked to the bed. Replaying in his mind the show that he had just gotten from the maid, he pulled his pants down and played with his hard cock.

The way that she had moved, the glimpses she gave of her body played in his mind as he masturbated. Closing his eyes, he visualized everything as if it were happening again, her warm hand on his thigh, her fingers brushing against his cock, her breast grazing his leg.

As his orgasm built, he opened his eyes and looked at the door. The maid stood there, her eyes focused on his hard cock. When she realized he knew she was there, she whispered an apology. As she spoke, his orgasm peaked and his come shot into the air.

Isabel watched him, entranced by the scene. As he orgasmed, she noticed how high he spurted, amazed at how much come came out of his cock. Before he could compose himself, she closed the door and went into the next room. John cleaned up, thought about finding the maid and apologizing, but realized that she wouldn't understand anyway. He hopped into the shower, the look on her face as he orgasmed locked into his head.

Isabel fought the urge to masturbate. In every room she entered, she wanted to lie on the bed and make herself come, but she had to finish her rounds first. Occasionally, her supervisor checked up on her, and she couldn't imagine how embarrassed she would be if he found her with her legs spread open and her hands between her legs.

Quickly finishing her rounds, Isabel rode the elevator to the basement. She sat in front of her locker, and again picked up her skirt, folding it as she put it into her backpack. Returning to the cleaners, she told the clerk that she needed the skirt shortened some more. Instead of trying it on again, she simply told him, "Shorten it two more inches. Can you have it ready for me tomorrow?"

The clerk handed her another receipt, cocking his eyebrow as she turned to leave. Isabel took it from him, walked out of the store, and ran to catch her bus.

John woke early the next morning and called his publisher to see when their meeting would take place. Not able to talk to anybody who knew anything, he sent a quick E-mail, telling his editor to take his time.

He went downstairs to the gym and had a nice workout, then swam a couple laps in the pool. Returning to his room around noon, he stayed in his swim trunks and checked his E-mail. Nothing from his editor, but he looked at the clock with a smile; the maid should be in any minute to make her rounds. He sat in front of his computer, not in the mood to write and played a computer golf game.

Isabel worked her way toward room 306. In room 304, she pulled off her skirt and put on the short one she had picked up at the cleaners during her lunch, then she stripped off her blouse and removed her bra. After she had finished changing outfits, she bent over in front of the mirror to see how high her skirt moved on her thighs. Her tiny thong appeared as the skirt rose up her leg, her bare butt completely on display. Through the thin material of her blouse, her areola were clearly visible and the points of her nipples formed two visible bumps in the material. Satisfied with her appearance, Isabel peeked out the door, walked down the hall to John's room and knocked, ready to tease him some more. She wasn't sure who enjoyed her shows more, him or her.

"Housekeeping!" she announced.

"Come in," he replied.

Isabel entered the room and smiled at him. Ignoring him, she went through the same motions as the day before, but knew that he could see almost her entire body. She fought the urge to strip off her clothes and yell at him to fuck her, but instead avoided his gaze as she showed him her nearly naked body.

Finished with the bed and vacuuming, she approached him at the desk. Instead of kneeling as she did the day before, she bent over at the waist. As she looked into the garbage can, she could feel his eyes peeking into her blouse at her bare breasts. Staying in that position for just a second longer, she looked at him and smiled.

As John stared down the maid's blouse, he looked at the curve of her braless breasts and at her tight stomach. As he willed the blouse to move just a little more so he could see more than just a hint of her nipples, he moved his eyes to her face and realized that she was smiling at him.

She stood abruptly and walked to the door, wiggling her hips, knowing that he was looking straight at her butt. She pretended to notice something on the floor, and as she bent over to pick it up, she though she heard him sigh.

As the door closed behind the maid, John looked down at his swim trunks, noticing the wet spot that had formed. He went straight into the shower and masturbated. The visions of her nearly bare breasts inches from his face, her beautiful ass exposed to him, her privates barely covered by a thin thong as she bent over, all of those images cascaded through his mind as he climaxed.

Isabel made it to the next room and locked the door. She rubbed her clitoris gently and fell back onto the bed, writhing and groaning with pleasure as she climaxed.

John stepped out of the shower and heard a soft noise from the next room. Not sure if it was his imagination, he put his ear to the wall and listened to a woman moan in ecstasy.

Isabel walked out the employee's door of the hotel and returned to the cleaners. She smiled at the old man behind the counter and said, "I need it just a little bit shorter."

"If we cut too much more off it, it won't be a skirt anymore," He said as returned her smile. "How much do you need it shortened today?"

"I need to try it on," she answered as she stepped by him and walked to the dressing room. She stripped off her shorts and pulled the skirt over her hips. A sly smile appeared on her face and she pulled off the thong.

The old man waited for her by the mirror, smiling at her as she approached. Isabel folded the material of the skirt up, just below her butt. "Can you pin it like that so I can see what it looks like?" She asked with a mischievous smile.

The old man pinned the skirt and raised his eyebrows as he stared at her bare butt. Working toward the front of the skirt, he let his hand touch the inside of her thigh. Not getting any protest, he let it linger, enjoying the feel of his pretty customer's smooth skin.

She smiled down at him and moved in front of the mirror. She turned, faced the old man as she bent at her waist and examined herself in the mirror. The skirt slid up her thighs, past the bottom of her bare ass. She stood again, adjusted the skirt, twirled and felt the skirt flare up. She smiled at the old man and told him, "Make it about half an inch shorter than you have it pinned."

"The customer is always right," he answered. He waited for her to reenter the dressing room before he stood and readjusted himself.

Isabel handed him the skirt, took the receipt, smiled at the old man as she walked out the door, and waited on the corner for her bus.

John smashed the snooze button on the alarm for the fifth time before waking up. He took a long shower, masturbating to another orgasm as he thought about the curvy maid. He pulled on the robe provided by the hotel, sat in front of his computer and glared at the words he had written the day before. Deleting everything, he started over. After writing the opening sentence, he gave in to his writer's block, leaned back in his chair and heard the roar of the vacuum from the room next to his.

Isabel finished vacuuming room 304, left the vacuum next to her cart and grabbed the skirt hidden under the towels. Returning to the empty room, she stripped off her clothes down to her thong and pulled the tiny skirt over her hips. As she fastened the bottom two buttons of the blouse, she examined herself in the mirror. The hem of the skirt fell just below her butt and the blouse opened at the bottom of her ribs. The curves of her braless breasts were completely exposed, only her nipples hidden by the blouse, but they were clearly visible through the thin material. Taking a deep breath, she pulled off the thong and walked into the hallway, hiding her clothes underneath the sheets. Glancing in both directions and deciding that it was safe, she walked to room 306.

She knocked on the door, and announced, "Housekeeping!"

"Come in," John replied.

Taking another deep breath, Isabel opened the door and stepped in. She glanced at John with a coquettish smile and walked to the bed. Pulling off the used sheets, she felt the cool air on her hot slit as she bent over. Without looking at him, she returned to the hall and collected the clean sheets from her cart. Returning to the room, she glanced at him and smiled when she noticed the rather large bump in his robe.

She went to the bed and tucked in the sheets, feeling the guest's eyes on her bare butt. She went to the opposite corner, glanced in his direction and smiled at him, her eyes glancing down at his opened robe. He slowly stroked his hard cock and looked into her eyes. She stood and unbuttoned the two buttons holding her blouse together, exposing her breasts, her nipples quickly hardening in the cool air. Somehow, she finished making the bed, but as she turned to walk to her cart, she fell onto the bed. Opening her legs, she pushed her finger into her wet pussy and watched him as he masturbated.

John approached the nearly naked maid and stood above her. She moaned uncontrollably as she rubbed her pussy and looked into his eyes. Her body shook violently, her hand blurred as she rapidly rubbed her clitoris and climaxed with a loud scream. As he looked into her lust filled eyes and stroked his cock, he climaxed, watching helplessly as his come sprayed all over the maid's body.

Isabel felt the warm cum spray onto her stomach and breasts. Calming down from her intense orgasm, she smiled at him and rubbed a drop of cum into her breast. As she stood and licked her finger, she looked into his eyes and said, "I come later. One hour? I no work one hour."

John watched her calmly button her blouse and answered. "I think that you just came, but if you want to come again, I'll be waiting for you," he said with a satisfied smile.

Isabel walked to him, kissed him on the cheek, and said, "One hour I come." She opened the door and glanced in both directions before hurriedly grabbing her normal uniform from the cart. She walked quickly to the next room, cleaned herself up and changed uniforms.

John crashed onto the bed and closed his eyes. The maid had told him that she would be back in one hour and he couldn't wait. If only she could understand him or if he could understand her better. He walked to his computer and searched for a translating service on the Internet. Finding one, he entered a few phrases that he thought might come in handy and printed them.

Isabel hurriedly finished her rounds. After stowing her supplies, she sat in front of her locker, grabbed her backpack and took the service elevator to the third floor. Using her pass key, she entered the vacant room next to his, smiling to herself as she stripped off her clothes. She opened the door, saw a couple walking to their room and closed the door quickly. After giving the couple enough time to make it to their room, she again glanced out. She ran to room 306 and knocked gently on the door, hoping that nobody would walk into the hall as she stood naked outside the door. "Housekeeping," she announced.

John heard the knock, quickly grabbed his translated phrases and opened the door. His mouth dropped when he saw the maid standing in the hall wearing nothing but a smile.

She walked in, pretending that everything was normal and sat on the edge of the bed. "Hola, papito. One hour. I come now." She said using her best broken English.

"Eres muy hermosa," he replied in Spanish.

She laughed playfully and replied in perfect English "Thank you, and you are very handsome. Are you going to fuck me now or just speak bad Spanish?"

John stared at the sexy maid, his mouth open in shock at her perfect English, "but I thought..."

"If you don't step over here, I'm gonna go over there and make you fuck me, so shut up, get over here and fuck me. I need your cock inside me and I need it now. I told you that in an hour I would come again, and that's why I'm here, to come again and again, but this time I want to feel your cock inside me."

Not needing to be told twice, John approached her. Sitting next to her on the bed, her hand pressed on his chest causing him to fall back onto the bed. Isabel opened his robe, wrapped her fingers around his cock and slowly pumped it up and down. Closing his eyes, he felt her moist lips wrap around the head of his cock and gasped as she pushed it into her mouth.

The maid paused for a second, looked at him and said, "By the way, my name is Isabel."

Her mouth returned to his cock, as she softly sucked on it, John replied, "I'm mmm... John."

Isabel removed her mouth from his cock and quickly moved on top of him. Placing a knee on each side of him, she grabbed his cock and guided it into her wet pussy. As the head of his cock slid into her, she sighed loudly and pushed it completely into her pussy.

"Nice to meet you, John. I'm sorry I told you I couldn't speak English, but it makes it... mmm... easier to ignore customers that try to pick me up," she told him as she pulled his cock slowly out of her.

"Usted tiene bonita tetas," John said remembering one of the phrases that he found on the Internet.

"Don't speak Spanish. You don't speak it very well." She cupped her breasts with her hands and continued, "I like my boobs too. Of course it would be nice if they were just a little bigger. Ooh," she said with a moan, "your cock is perfect for me, not too big, not too small."

John couldn't believe the conversation they were having, but followed her lead. "A little bigger would be better, I mean for my cock, not your tits. They're perfect."

"Mmm, no, your cock is the perfect size. Wow, this feels so good. I've been walking around so horny the last couple of days. Teasing you really turned me on."

"Do you do it often?"

"What? Fuck or tease?" Isabel asked as she slowly slid his cock back into her pussy.

"Both. I mean do you tease all of the hotel guests?"

"No, you're the first, and you're the first that I've fucked too. So no, I don't do this often. Mmm. You probably think that I'm such a slut. Mmm, your cock feels so good." Isabel increased her pace, bouncing on him, moaning whenever his cock brushed her clitoris.

"Why would I think that?" he answered, panting as he tried to thrust up into her.

"I'm normally not like this," she said as she bent forward, her breasts rubbing against his chest. "Wow, I can feel your cock rub against my clit like this." She moaned contentedly. "You're only the third guy I've ever slept with. Mmm. I'm going to come soon. Mmm. I guess I'm just too picky. Mmm yes, that feels so... mmm. At school, guys are always trying to pick me up, but I haven't dated anybody for almost... Oh, I'm almost there... two years and I haven't done this since ooh, since mmm... since..."

Isabel moaned as her orgasm overtook her. Bouncing on top of him as fast as she could, she screamed in ecstasy, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh my! Mmm..."

She collapsed on top of him and rolled over onto the bed. John carefully rolled on top of her and pushed his cock back into her pussy. He pumped her furiously as her orgasm continued. He watched her breasts bounce and he somehow found a way to fuck her faster. He looked into her face, amazed at the look of pure lust in her eyes. His cock twitched, and as he continued to drive his cock into the maid, his orgasm began. His hips pushed erratically against her, and his hot come filled her. He lowered himself onto the bed next to her, feeling her arms reach around him and her lips press passionately against his.

Absentmindedly, he played with her nipples and felt her hand tickle his balls. Their lips met and they passionately kissed. His cock hardened again as she softly played with it. The maid gently broke their kiss, turned onto her stomach, moved to the end of the bed and pushed herself onto her hands and knees.

Standing next to the bed, John pushed his hard cock into her. Isabel moaned uncontrollably as his cock slid into her pussy. "Wow, you got hard again fast," she said. "If you're not careful, you'll have to fuck me all weekend. I don't have to work or go to class until Monday."

"I don't have anything to do all weekend."

"You promise to fuck me whenever I want?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

"Can you help me with mmm, like that, do it like that... my paper that I... mmm... have to turn in on Monday?"

"I majored in literature."

"Mmm, harder, fuck me harder," Isabel moaned. John moved his hips as fast as he could, driving his hard cock into her, feeling his orgasm build. "Mmm... like that, mmm... I'm com... mmm... coming..."

Isabel screamed uncontrollably, her shrieks of ecstasy bringing John to orgasm. He groaned loudly as he came inside her. They collapsed on the bed together and Isabel put her leg over his thigh and rested her head on his chest. After she had composed herself, Isabel turned to him and asked, "Did you really major in English Lit.?"

"Yeah."

"Good, then after you fuck me one more time, you can help me write my paper."

"What's the paper for?"

"For my Contemporary American Writers class."

"What book?"

" Searching the Soul by John Waterson. Have you read it? It's really amazing."

John laughed out loud and answered, "I might be able to help; I wrote it."