"You've got a van run Cyn."
"Shit," she muttered under her breath.
"Nothing... I'll be right there" she shouted around the corner as she grabbed her black leather jacket. "Damn" she thought to herself, "of all days to wear my new black stiletto boots."
Cynthia snatched the van keys off her desk and walked through the double doors that lead to the back offices. Cynthia Nelson was the Assistant Manger at the Springfield Inn, a 200-room hotel located in the heart of downtown Springfield. Today was supposed to be her day off, but as always, she was at work.
Cynthia was having a torrid affair, with her job. Since she started at the hotel a little over a year ago, she had been working 60 to 70 hour weeks. She didn't mind though, work kept her mind off her dismal, or should we say non-existent social life.
Cynthia Nelson was no stunning beauty but she had an underlying sensuality that she always felt stirring just beneath the surface. She always considered herself a sexual person, but her lack of self-esteem kept her from sharing it with many men. Cynthia thought about her most recent lover as she hoisted the guests' luggage into the back of the hotel van, Kirk. Kirk did not love Cynthia he loved one thing in life, gambling. He lived for the thrill of victory and shared the agony of loss with anyone who would listen. One day Cynthia just got tired of listening and she packed her things and moved back home to Springfield.
"Huh," she muttered in response. Once again, her thoughts got the best of her and she had not even noticed that the four guests that were impatiently waiting in the van ready to leave.
"Hello, how was everything with your stay?," she asked the tall cowboy standing in front of her.
"Good," he flashed her a heartfelt smile.
"Here, let me get that bag fore you"
"Oh, no ma'am, my Daddy would have my hide, if he saw me let a lady help me with my luggage. Especially, a beautiful lady like yourself."
"Well... thank you," she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as he climbed in the van and she slammed the back doors to the van. As she got into the van she was startled to see that he had sat down in the passenger seat next to her.
"Maybe it will turn out to be a good thing that the van driver called in sick," she thought to herself and smiled as she started up the vehicle.
"How was everything with everyone's stay?" Cynthia asked the four businessmen seated in the back of the van.
"Fine... good... the beds are uncomfortable..." she heard them mutter and then they got back to the conversation at hand, a heated discussion about the women at the hotel bar last night and the number of cell phone numbers each had acquired.
"Ugh," Cynthia thought to herself, "where have all the good men gone."
"Actually," she questioned to herself, "were they ever here to begin with?."
"How long have you worked at the hotel," asked the cowboy sitting next to her. His question interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to the moment at hand.
"A little over a year now." She took a deep breath and allowed herself to take in his sent, a cross between cigarettes and cologne. "God he smells great" she had always been a sucker for the smell of a great men's cologne. She could feel blood rushing to her checks again and other regions of her body too.
"Are you OK?," the cowboy asked.
"Yeah... just a little warm in here" she said as she rolled down the window. "So, what brings you to Springfield?"
"Work" he replied, "I work for a computer software company, technical support."
"So, you must travel a lot for work?" she questioned him.
"Yup, I sure do. Sometimes I feel like I am on the road and in hotel rooms more than I am at home."
"That must be hard on your girlfriend," she questioned, fishing for more information.
"Nah, I don't have a girl at home, just my old hound dog Rusty."
"My God" she thought to herself, "is this guy for real?" Working at a downtown hotel, the type of guys she usually interacted with were stuffed suit businessmen who only cared about checking out the "hot" waitresses in the hotel bar. This guy was too good to be true.
"Well... here we are," she said with a heavy sigh as they pulled up to the main airport terminal. Cynthia hopped out of the van and began to unload the luggage on to the sidewalk.
"Here, let me help," the cowboy was there right next to her unloading the other guests bags.
"Uh, thanks... again," ugh, why could she not get it together. Why could she not be one of those women who played it cool and calm when they were around men. No, she had to turn into a blundering moron.
"You are more than welcome, beautiful lady," he replied. His southern twang was driving her crazy. "Hopefully, we will see each other again soon."
And with that, he was gone. As Cynthia settled herself back into the driver's seat to return to the hotel, she took a deep breath once again, savoring his scent. "Yes" she thought to herself, "hopefully we will see each other again soon.
The hours and days began to pass, as they always did for Cynthia, quickly, and before she knew it a month had gone by. She still thought about the handsome cowboy that she met on that fateful afternoon.
She thought about his scent, his seductive southern drawl, and the way she felt when she looked into her eyes. "I wonder what it would be like to be with a man like that," she questioned herself. "Yeah right, you could never be with a man that fine," and with that thought her brought herself down to reality. She sighed heavily and knew that her subconscious was right. She could never be with a man like that. Men like the cowboy were meant to be with beautiful blondes who just walked off the runway. Not a 5'5 brunette hotel manager who is 20 pounds over weight and has a horrible self image and esteem. A telephone ring rudely interrupted Cynthia's thoughts.
"Good afternoon and thank you for call the Springfield Inn, this is Cynthia, how may I help you?"
"Well, hello Miss Cynthia, how are you?"
"Oh my God" she thought, it was him. She recognized the voice right away.
"Fine, how may I help you today," Ok, she would play it cool. She could not let on that she knew who it was.
"I don't know if you remember me... but my name is Kevin McCloud and I was a guest at your hotel about a month ago. You gave me a ride to the airport."
"Hmmm..." she tried to remain calm, as heart raced. "Oh yes, you work with computers or something like that, right?." As if she had forgot anything he said during their conversation.
"Yes mam, I sure do. I am going to be coming to Springfield next week to follow up on a project and I was wondering if you could help me book a reservation?"
"Oh... yes, absolutely. What day will you be coming in?" As she entered the details of his reservation into the computer, her heart sunk. He was not interested in her, he was looking for a good rate on a hotel room.
"OK, Mr. McCloud, you confirmation number is 478621 and we look forward to seeing you next Monday," she said after completing his reservation.
"I look forward to seeing you also Miss Cynthia, have a good weekend."
"Thank you sir and have a great day."
Cynthia sighed heavily as she hung up the phone. "Get real... you know that he just called you because he knew you would be a sucker and give him a deal on a room." She thought to herself.
"I don't care if you were oversold... I booked a non smoking room and that is what you better give me... NOW!!!!!" The guest shouting at the desk was so loud that Cynthia could here him through the double doors and around the corner in her office.
"Cyn... Can you come out here... please?"
"Back to reality," Cynthia said under her breath as she put on her best smile and walked through the double doors.
"Hello, sir my name is Cynthia... how can help you today?"
As the days passed, Cynthia became more excited about the prospect of seeing her cowboy again. She called him her cowboy not only because of his deep southern accent but also his choice of dress. He wore tight Levi jeans, tight in all the right places and a checkered flannel shirt. Endorphins rushed over her jut thinking about him. Since their initial meeting she had used thoughts of him as her inspiration for her masturbation sessions. She thought about his hands on her breasts, his lips on her mouth and his cock in her pussy. It made her wet just to think about him. Cynthia had always had struggles when it came to sex in her past relationships. It seemed like she always was in the mood and her partners were not. Kirk was the worst. He only wanted to fuck once a week, on Saturday nights, with him on top and the whole experience lasted all of 20 minutes. Cynthia always hoped to find a man that would share her sexual desires and have a libido to match hers. However, this had yet to happen. Most days she felt destined to spend her life sexually frustrated and masturbating four times a week. Since she met the cowboy she was up to seven.
Before she knew it the day was here. Cynthia made sure to block the cowboy in one on the nicer rooms with a view of the city and a hot tub in the room. She made sure to wear one of her favorite outfits, a short black skirt with a green blouse that highlighted the green in her eyes. The ensemble was finished off with her favorite black boots that added a good 2 inched to her 5'5 stature.
"Wow... what are you all dressed up for?," one of the front desk agents questioned her.
"Nothing special, just felt like dressing up a little today," Cynthia replied innocently.
"Yeah right," she thought to herself.
.... There is more of this story ...