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The Chambermaid


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.
Predictable.

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.
"Matt."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"The bathroom, Matt. I'll need some more towels."
"Yes ma'am."
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.
"Matt."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"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.
"And Matt?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Is this the time you usually make your rounds?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Come earlier tomorrow, say 9 am. I have a meeting at eleven."
"Yes, ma'am!"

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!


End of Story