That long, slow creaking sound, followed by a sudden thud — a sound known to just about everyone who's ever stayed in a hotel as of one of your neighbors letting go of the door to their room, the door loudly pulling itself closed and slamming shut. I had just hoped it was something I would have avoided in a 5-star hotel, but, then again, why not something else to draw out an already long business trip. I rolled over to see my small travel alarm clock on the nightstand and saw the glowing red 12:00 stare back at me. My one fucking chance to sleep and a slamming door wakes me up at midnight. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I had been going almost non stop for about a week and still had one more on the road in front of me, as I was touring worldwide productions sites for the client I was responsible for dealing with. I started Monday at my Chicago office and flew to Calgary, then down to Los Angeles. After two days there, I took a red-eye to New York to meet with some people in our offices there for a couple hours, before getting on a 17-and-a-half hour flight here to Johannesburg. Fortunately, I got in on Saturday afternoon, so I had Sunday off to adjust to all the time changes before a site tour Monday, then flying on to stops in India, China and Australia before finally heading home.
Crreeaaaaaaaaak, SLAM. There it was again. This time, 12:05. While I wasn't feeling particularly tired, I knew I had to get to sleep since the last time I'd actually been in bed was back in an L.A. hotel room — and the brief catnaps on the plane just really don't count for much. Plus, I didn't really want to get up and the windowless bedroom of my hotel suite was still pitch black, except for the red glow of my alarm clock. I used that to find the remote control for the television, hitting the red power button as I wondered what late-night TV looks like in South Africa.
What it looked like was TV in just about every other hotel in the world — a special hotel channel pushing all the pay-per-view options available. It didn't take too long to convince myself I could write this off for "entertainment" purposes and that some porn, some hand lotion from the night kit in the room and a few loving strokes from Rosey Palm and I'd probably nod right back off to sleep.
A few button pushes later and my room was billed for my opportunity to watch stars like Beauty and Kitty in "Big Phat Black Wet Butts 3". Even better, this was a film that didn't waste a lot of time with things like dialog or plot, but pretty much got right down to business.
Crreeaaaaaaaaak, SLAM. There it was again. This time, 12:15. At least the neighbors were slowing down with all the noise in the hallways.
My cock didn't waste much time getting ready for business either, raising a nice little pup tent in the sheet that was draped over my body. So I pulled back the sheet and got right to work, squeezing a good size plop of lotion into my palm and started seeking that familiar rhythm that would carry me to bliss and, hopefully, back to sleep. Soon that familiar feeling began to slowly build in my balls. It just came down to how fast I wanted to find release.
Suddenly, I was distracted by a flash of light through the French doors into the bedroom. Light that looked a lot more like daylight than a lamp.
It dawned on me that I had never reset my alarm clock since I was in Los Angeles, I was figuring in my head L.A. to London is eight hours ahead and Johannesburg is one hour ahead of London, so that made it just after 9 a.m. Great, all the door slamming that woke me was the door to my own room.
In the process of still doing my lightning fast time change calculations, the door had opened and looking in on me was the maid. What she was looking at, with her own look of surprise, was me reclining naked in bed with one hand still wrapped around my cock, as the porn film played on in the background.
Perhaps the first big surprise was that with all of this unexpected excitement and the introduction of math, my cock had stayed as hard as a rock. Make no mistake, I'm not hung anything close to a horse, a porn star or even the guys you read about in most of those "letters" magazines, but I still feel like I can hold my own. Well, at least no one has ever complained about it to me personally, as it's thick enough that my thumb and index finger don't quite meet when they wrap around it and about two or three inches stuck out above my hand when I stroke down to the base.
That would be pretty much the view the maid was getting right now too.
It was hard to make out exactly what she looked like, as my eyes were still adjusting to the sudden influx of light into the room. The light created a kind of aura around her that left me able to make out little more than a silhouette. The outline enticed me, as her breasts looked to definitely be bigger than a handful and her body, while not the tight, taut bodies of the girls in the movie, still had the hint of some curves. The one thing I was sure of though was that she wasn't looking away.
"Hi," I said, in hopes of breaking the ice. "I didn't realize it was quite so late in the morning, as I forgot to reset my alarm clock last night," pointing toward the clock with my left hand and sort of chuckling.
I did nothing with my right hand though and that was where her focus remained. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off my right hand wrapped around my stiff cock.
So I decided to press my luck a little bit. After all, this was my room and I was right where I belonged. So, slowly, I began to stroke my cock once more, focusing not so much on the speed, but the tightness of the stroke as the upward motion seemed to bring all the blood into the head so it was almost glowing red in comparison to the rest of my pasty white flesh.
"Do you like what you see?"
This seemed to snap her back to reality for a moment, as she and turned her head away briefly.
"I'm so sorry sir," she stammered. "I thought you were out. You kind of caught me by surprise."
Still, her gaze returned to my cock, as I slowly stroked up and down the shaft. I felt emboldened by her gaze, so I pushed again.
"But you didn't answer my question," I said. "Do you like what you see?"
I could make out enough detail now that I saw a smile cross her face as I finished my question.
"What I think doesn't really matter, does it sir," she said, her back almost seeming to become more rigid, like the formality that was returning to her voice. "I'm sorry sir, but your privacy comes before my duties. Let me come back later."
Before she could back out of the room, I said "Wait!" hoping the urgency in my voice didn't give away just how desperate I was at this moment.
"I know this sounds kind of stupid and you don't know me at all, but if you have time for a break, I would be willing to show you some more."
I thought my opportunity was over before it started as she continued to back away. Then, when she got to the door she clicked on the deadbolt and said, "Well, I am about due for my break."
I turned on the nightstand lamp as she walked back, allowing me to see exactly what I was, hopefully, getting myself into.
What I saw wasn't exactly a Nubian princess, but she still looked damn good to me. Her hair was pulled back tight and smooth across her head and her skin was almost the same color as her hair, darker than any other person I had seen before. Her long face was accented by a pair of rectangular, black framed glasses and complemented by a huge smile that just seemed to disarm me completely.
The grey uniform was an almost perfect complement to her skin tone, accentuating a full pair of breasts that appeared about the same size as a pair of large grapefruits. What made them even more impressive was that, as she got near, it appeared she wasn't wearing a bra. Her ass was two soft bubbles — the kind you just love to sink your hands into and grab on as you thrust during sex — capping a pair of silky smooth legs.
She sat down next to me on the bed and, almost before I realized what was happening, had replaced my hand with her own as she gently began to stroke my cock, almost clinically examining it and its reactions to her touch.
"Are you enjoying this sir," she said, trying to keep a straight face as she stroked up and down my cock, her face just inches away. "Because, you are aware that the official policy here at the Park Hyatt is that the customer always cums first,"
Her mouth engulfed the head of my cock as the last words escaped her lips. But, after bobbing her head up and down the shaft several times, she lifted her head, looked me in the eyes and added, "Although, I'm sure you're aware that means that the staff cums second, and third, and fourth and so on."
It was pretty obvious that it wasn't going to take this woman long to make me cum. Not only did she have a very talented mouth that was doing things to my cock I had never experienced before, but just watching the contrast of my white cock sliding in and out of her black mouth was almost too much to handle.
I couldn't handle it nearly as long as I wanted too and, before long, I was erupting. She didn't miss a drop, swallowing everything I had to offer — coaxing every last drop out with a few firm strokes before she pulled her mouth off with a pop from the suction.
"I hope the service has lived up to your expectations for the Park Hyatt sir," she said, as a large smile crossed her face.
"Most definitely," I replied.
I couldn't say much more though, as she stood and pulled down her panties and, still wearing her dress, climbed up onto my face. As her pussy dropped onto my mouth, she said, "I'm glad you were satisfied sir, because now it's your turn to satisfy me."
.... There is more of this story ...