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A motel. A room in a motel. A room in a motel, empty but for her pitiful few possessions. Her motel. Her room in her motel.
Her 'home' for the next three days. It didn't feel like home, it felt like a room in a motel.
She looked at the impersonal walls which surrounded her, willing them to open up, to give her a feeling of home. They didn't. They stood, silent, ignoring her entreaties. It was no more than she expected. The wall hangings were a someone's pathetic attempt to make the room more 'homey'. It didn't work.
She glanced around, taking in the furnishings. There was the small table with lamp and the two chairs near the window. On the table was her briefcase, open, a few papers and the novel she had picked up at the airport. The inside of the briefcase was tidy, the way her life was tidy, the way everything she did was tidy. She looked away, to the mirror, to see her light blue eyes watching her. She looked away. She was always looking away, it seemed.
Besides the nice little table, there was a dresser, small, with the mirror above it. She avoided looking there again. Other than that, there was the bed. A kingsize bed. It was huge, and she had felt lost within it last night. Lost and alone.
Her lover generally traveled with her, was supposed to be with her, but he had not come. He would not come with her, nor in her, again. The break-up had been sudden and it had been final. It had been three weeks ago. It seemed like yesterday. The hurt still filled her.
After two years of what seemed to be a wonderful sharing she had found out that he was cheating on her, had been cheating on her for more than a year. She found out because he told her, told her to her face as he packed his bag to leave. She had been a place to stay, protection from the cold, but he no longer needed her. Love? How could one love a woman so fastidious and predictable as she? A place for everything and everything in its place - but in bed, too? He needed some excitement, a chance to explore his sexuality, a chance he had found with another.
The light blue eyes misted over and a single tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away angrily. She would not cry. She looked at her watch. Ten minutes after ten in the morning. Still four hours until her first meeting. Time for a shower. Shower and dress. Return to the world outside the motel room door fresh and ready to go.
Her eyes went to the door, to the 'Do Not Disturb' sign which hung on the doorknob. She nodded to herself. It was a good idea.
She took it and placed it on the outside doorknob. No sense in taking the chance of having the maid walk in on her. Not that it really mattered. The maid was likely a dowdy old woman in her fifties, overweight and dull. Still, she wasn't really comfortable being in a state of undress around other people - especially strangers.
Much better to put out the sign.
The warm spray soothed her mind and body and she began to sway under its soporific charm. It was so nice to be able to relax, to let her mind go blank and to simply enjoy the feel of the warm water cascading on and about her. She took a deep breath. Ah, so good. Her hand began its movement towards the juncture of her legs, then stopped. She sighed. It just wasn't the same without him.
She turned the water off and climbed out of the shower.
The towel felt good against her skin and she dried herself quickly and thoroughly after wrapping the other towel around her head. The cotton scratched against her nipples, causing them to stand out, yet, again, she did nothing about it.
Her head came up as she thought she heard a little sound, but she decided that she must have been mistaken and finished drying herself.
The bathroom mirror was fogged and she would have to go to the one in the room to comb out her hair. She picked up her comb and brush and left the bathroom. The chill of the room after the heat and humidity of the bathroom caused goose bumps - and two other bumps. Half-way to the dresser she stopped short with a gasp of surprise and dismay.
"Wh-who are you," she demanded of the young man who was making her bed. He was about 20, with a fit young body.
The man blushed to the roots of his dark hair, trying to keep his gaze on her face, though it was attracted to other body parts.
"I, uh, I'm, well, I guess I'm the chambermaid," he finally replied.
She was angry. "What the hell are you doing here? I put out the 'Do Not Disturb' sign."
"Uh, no ma'am, you didn't. You put out the 'Maid, please make up room' sign." The young man couldn't keep his eyes on her face and she suddenly realized that she was naked. Her hands flew to cover herself.
"I did nothing of the sort," she contradicted him. Very angry now, the anger making her heedless of her nakedness, she strode to the door and pulled in the sign. She noted, with considerable chagrin, that she had accidentally pulled both signs from the inside door-knob and, when she put them on outside, they were reversed. The chambermaid was correct. It was her turn to flush.
"Look, ma'am, I'll come back later. I'm very sorry about this.
It's never happened before." He began edging towards the door.
It was then that she noticed the bulge in his pants and intuitively she knew where he was going and what he would do when he got there.
Suddenly her lover's face, ex-lover's face, floated in front of her, telling her how predictable she was. Something broke inside her.
Predictable? She'd show him - even if he never got to see.
"What's your name?"
"Uh, Matt, ma'am." He was stuck. She was still standing in front of the door and he couldn't get by, and she was still naked, her nipples erect - which excited him more, making it difficult to disguise his condition.
"Well, Matt. As long as you are here, you might as well finish the job you started." She pulled the towel off her head and shook out her hair.
"Uh, yes, ma'am." He hesitated, then turned back to the bed.
She grinned a most uncharacteristic grin and sat down in front of the mirror and began to comb out her hair while watching his reflection.
She was enjoying his discomfiture. She felt the power of her position and gloried in it.
"There you go, ma'am. All done." He walked awkwardly to the door carrying the dirty linen, his erection getting in his way.
"The bathroom, Matt. I'll need some more towels."
She admired his butt as he stepped outside to the trolley, then again as he passed her on the way to the bathroom. On an impulse she jumped to the door and locked it, this time fastening the security chain. She was back on the chair, sitting with legs well spread, combing her hair, when Matt came out of the bathroom. His eyes were drawn to her pussy and she concealed her grin but her eyes shone with triumph.
"Matt." Her voice was disapproving. He tore his eyes away from paradise and back to her face. "Do you call that pillow case clean?" she asked.
Matt turned to look at the pillowcase in question only to be shoved roughly onto the bed. Before he could do anything she was on top of him, stroking his cock through his pants, nibbling on his ear.
"Is it just for show, or do you know how to use it?" she purred in his ear.
"Ma'am?" he questioned, not believing what he was hearing.
"Do you *want* to use it?" her voice carried a hint of asperity with it.
"Yes ma'am!" He understood.
"Then you'd better get it out, don't you think?"
"Yes, ma'am! He reacted with alacrity, pulling down his sweatpants and shorts together, allowing his cock to bob up.
It was bigger than she had suspected - much to her delight.
Not huge, but quite filling, thank-you. She smiled contentedly and stroked it, thrilling as he trembled beneath her touch, feeling her power, a power she had not known existed.
She was wet, wetter than she could remember, and she swung a leg over him, paused a moment, then sank down, engulfing him. She looked down and watched him disappear within her as he gave out with a gasp which was echoed by her own.
She rode him like a bronco, as he bucked up into her, bracing her hands on his chest. After several minutes he began to tire from the exertion and she rode him more sedately, smiling down on him as his face began to contort.
"Not yet, my young mount," she told him as she popped off him and applied the squeeze maneuver. She remounted and sat there for a time to allow him to cool down, then resumed her ride.
It was building, she could feel it building, rising up like a flame within. She slapped his thigh. "Now, baby now!" Matt rocked his hips as fast as he could, wanting to get off, before she decided to delay him again. She was keening, her low cries growing in intensity, exciting him. He held back, his desire to watch her come overcoming his own desire to come. Her fingers were working furiously on herself, then suddenly she was going wild on him, threatening to tear his cock off, crying out loudly. He could hold back no longer and groaned as he heaved one last time before sinking slowly back down under her weight.
It was some minutes later that she slowly unseated herself from his softening cock. It fell out and lay, wet and limp, on his stomach.
"I'm going to take another shower. Please leave me an extra towel." She turned and stepped, without further ado, into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She had another thought and opened it once more.
"Is this the time you usually make your rounds?"
"Come earlier tomorrow, say 9 am. I have a meeting at eleven."
The wall hangings lent a certain warmth to the room, she thought.
They did make the room seem a little more homey, she decided, they and the random scattering of a few possessions - like the blue underwear which she had picked up when she went to take her shower. She hoped he would be okay without them - ah, hell, she didn't really care, one way or the other. They would make a great souvenir, though.
Predictable - ha!