The Hotel

By Thelonious

He paid off the taxi, picked up the overnight bag and dodged through the revolving doors into the hotel lobby.  It was much like every other hotel he had stayed in, he thought, as he made his way across the carpet, past the potted palms towards the reception desk.  The girl behind the desk looked up and smiled as he approached.  At least he would have a pleasant few minutes checking in.  He gave his name and the girl found his reservation, producing a pre-prepared folder with the booking, confirmation of the room rate, key card and so on.  At least they seemed to be on the ball, he thought.  The girl showed him the parts of the form he had to complete, then turned away for a moment, giving him, as he signed his name and filled in the details, a chance to look properly at her.  She was tall, with a pretty face, good bone structure, and long blonde hair tied back in a pony tail.  She managed to make the uniform blouse and skirt look flattering, the blouse with two buttons undone to reveal golden skin and a hint of cleavage, the pencil skirt showing off a trim waste, nice hips, firm, rounded buttocks and, below the hem, long legs.

They completed the formalities and he was favoured with another delightful smile.  As he took his bag and his key card over to the lifts he allowed himself the usual brief fantasy about beautiful receptionists who find themselves irresistibly attracted to your room at the end of their shift.  But such things never happen.  Hotel staff, however much they flirt on duty, are like air hostesses - they know how to keep people happy in the belief that they really like you, really care about you, until the minute they go off duty, at which point the customers are dismissed from consciousness.  Which, of course, is exactly as it should be.  But it was nice, nevertheless, to daydream once in a while.

He stepped out of the lift into the anonymous corridor, counted off the room numbers and slid his card into the lock.  The green light flickered and he opened the door.  The room was typical:  neutral colours, a couple of views of British castles on the walls, two king size beds, a large television.  He took in the trouser press, the hanging space, the shelf for the suitcase, the dressing table, phone, easy chairs and writing desk.  Absent mindedly he turned the television to the cable news channel, checked out the coffee making equipment and the mini-bar, then wandered into the bathroom.  He broke the twee little strip of paper across the toilet seat and peed, turned to the sink to wash his hands and realised with a shock that there were no towels in the room.  It was so long since he had ever caught a hotel out in such a way that he searched the bathroom twice, looking behind the shower curtain, above the sink, under the sink - but no pile of white Turkish towels was to be found.  He blotted the water off his hands with a couple of tissues from the pack fixed to the wall above the toilet and went back out into the room.

He took off his jacket and tie and hung them in the wardrobe, together with the clean shirt from his bag.  He finished unpacking, putting his sponge bag in the towel-less bathroom, papers on the dressing table, shoes and socks under the table, newspaper on the bed.  Then, having established himself in the room, imposed his presence on it, he picked up the phone and dialled reception.  A pleasant voice, but not, he thought, the girl who had checked him in, answered.  He explained the lack of towels.  The girl sounded surprised, almost as shocked as he had been.  Extraordinary.  Couldn't imagine how that could have happened.  There would be towels.  Immediately.  But, perhaps, if he was not in a great hurry - might ten minutes be too long to wait - they were changing shifts and the evening chambermaid would be along as soonâ?¦ Of course, he said, ten minutes, fifteen - it was  not a problem.  The girl managed to convey gratitude, solicitude, regret, all without being ingratiating.  He was impressed.  He slipped off his trousers and arranged them in the trouser press and settled himself on the bed, half listening to the News, half reading through the papers for his meeting the next day.

After a few minutes there was a knock on the door.  He got up, looked down at his shirt, boxer shorts and bare legs, and decided anyone who worked as an evening chambermaid could cope with the sight of a half-dressed man, and went to the door.

To his surprise, when he opened the door, he found not the expected elderly member of the evening shift, but the blonde from reception.  She had a pile of towels in her arms.  He stepped back in surprise and held the heavy door open for her as she came in.  He let go of the door and, as it swung closed, he mumbled something incoherent - excuse his lack of clothes, hadn't expectedâ?¦ very gratefulâ?¦ She smoothly ignored his flustered state and, glancing at him for his permission, took the towels into the bathroom.  She came out and looked around the room with a practised eye.  She would just check that everything else was as it should be.  There was enough coffee.  The mini-bar was stocked.  The bed was tidy.  Could she close the curtains?  She crossed the room to the window and paused to check window catches, drapes, tie-backs.  He crossed the room behind her, realising for the first time the fine views from the room over the night-time city.  She stood with him, looking out, pointing out landmarks.  He found himself standing very close to her.  With some trepidation he put one hand, lightly, on her shoulder as he pointed at some distant building.  She made no protest, letting the touch of his hand move them closer together, her shoulder slightly in front of him, so that he was standing slightly behind her, looking out over her shoulder.  His face was close to hers and now there was no doubt - she was standing close, their bodies touching from knee to shoulder, head to head, she leaning slightly against him.

He was immediately consciousness of a stirring in his boxer shorts, conscious also that only the fly of his shorts and his shirt tails hung between his growing erection and the outside world.  He brought his other hand to her shoulder and she turned her head slightly back and around, rubbing her face against his.  At the same time she raised her hands to his, covering them, holding them, then drawing them down from her shoulders and around to the front of her blouse.  He needed no encouragement.  His hands found their way instantly to her breasts, cupping them through the fabric of the blouse, lifting them and finding the nipples with his fingers, even through the cloth of blouse and bra.  Her hands covered his, holding them firmly against her and encouraging his explorations.  Quickly he found her buttons and undid them down to the waist.  His hands pressed firmly on the soft skin of her flat stomach, drawing an appreciative murmur as they swept up her belly and rib cage to return to the delightful mounds of her breasts.  For once he found and successfully unfastened the catch at the front, releasing her breasts and freeing her nipples to his teasing fingers. 

She dropped her arms to her sides and shrugged her blouse and bra off her shoulders, letting them fall.  Then she raised her hands to grip the window frame as he held her breasts firmly and stooped to kiss the beautiful curve of her neck and shoulders, reaching round to kiss her throat then lifting his head to find her mouth.  Their lips found each other and their tongues mingled, sending shocks and thrills to the pit of his stomach.  He kissed her fiercely, kneading her breasts, playing with her hard nipples.  She was getting more and more excited, breathing hard, kissing him, clutching the window frame and grinding her buttocks against his crutch, where his penis could no longer be contained by his shorts but was standing fully erect and pressed against her.  He bit her playfully in the curve where her neck met her shoulder and as he did so his hands swept down to the waist of her skirt.  He found the catch and zip, loosened them, then smoothly pulled skirt, tights and knickers, in one swift movement, down to her ankles.  She kicked her feet free, stepped back slightly and parted her legs, still holding on to the window frame with both hands.

He continued to kiss and nibble her neck and shoulders, but with his arms around her waist both hands now found her belly, the furry mound of her pubis, the inside of her thighs.  Her thighs were already wet with her juices and as he slid his hands upwards his fingers found her hot wet pussy, all his finger tips running between her lips, finding her already opening wide to him.  He thrilled to the sensation as his hands spread her juices back between her cheeks, soaking her and allowing his finger to slide easily into her anus.  She gasped and thrust down onto his hand and his finger entered her as his other hand explored the welcoming passage of her vagina.  She writhed and gasped, jerking up and down against his fist, her clitoris hard to his touch.  She gave a series of little cries and he thought she was very close to coming.  She reached behind her with one hand to grab his cock, holding it tightly and pulling it, making him gasp as she dragged him towards her crack, begging him, please, quickly, to come inside her.  Only too happy to oblige, his cock dived into her, deep and hard, feeling as if it would hit the neck of her womb, the bones of his pelvis hard against her coccyx. Her cries and gasps became louder and faster as they thrust at each other.  She clung high up to the window, bending her knees to drive her hips down on to his cock buried deep inside her.  He felt himself coming and knew that nothing he could do would stop the inevitable.  Hoping desperately that she was as close to orgasm as she seemed he gave a few more deep thrusts and felt his fluid leave him to flood her already soaking passage.  As he came she gave a cry and he felt a great spasm go through her body.  He clung to her, resting his face against her back, feeling their sweat mingling.  They stayed liked that for a few minutes, panting, getting their breath, giggling as the wetness continued to trickle between them.