A Fine Profession (The Chambermaid's Tales Part One)

by Sarah Michelle Lynch

  “I want to see you again,” he said.

  “Maybe,” I said, looking into his eyes.

  What stared back at me was most frightful. I felt sick at the sight of those eyes, so luxuriously green, gazing into mine. He was assessing me but taunting me too, because he knew I desired him. I bit his lip fiercely and jumped out before him, threw on a robe and headed for the bed, burying myself in layers. I was too tired and it was too late to leave.

  He climbed in not long later and whispered, “I've got the better pillow here if you want to join me?”

  I rolled toward him and his arm wrapped around me. He lifted my chin and kissed me and before I knew it, I was sleeping like a baby, my body expended. That was the day I got hooked on my new drug.

  * * *

  For weeks after that, I masturbated nightly over that liaison. I didn't even seek company. I was haunted by how easily I had found affinity with a stranger. That night, I had woken in his arms in the early hours, flabbergasted by my own confidence. He might have wanted to do away with me for all I knew. However, as I watched him sleep, I decided that his was not the face of a man who could bear me ill will. In his dreams, his skin was milky and smooth. He was more than a decade older than I and yet he didn't betray all his years. I traced a finger over his delectable mouth as he slept and felt I could have gone for another round with him. I was strongly attracted to him but seeing him vulnerable and sedate reminded me that he might be just as fallible as all the others. I slipped out of bed and out of the hotel, crawling into my own bed not long later.

  I almost forgot his face. I just remembered how he made me feel and that alone was enough to make me cum at night. In the depths of my heart, I wondered what it might be like if we made love more conventionally, in bed, with his arms and body around mine. I crushed that fantasy deep down in the depths of my mind. The memory limped away, taking with it desire left unfulfilled by only having spent one night together. The Chambermaid became sedentary because I needed time to reassess before venturing out once again. I really had been knocked off course, somehow. I could not get him out of my thoughts. I almost felt normal again when I received an unexpected visitor knocking on my office door.

  “Charlotte,” he said. “I found you.”

  I was shuffling order forms in my hand, unaware it was him.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, not bothering to turn around.

  “It's me, Noah.”

  “How did you get in here?” I scathed.

  My throat dried. My stomach leapt. I became delirious. I swayed. My face flushed and my heart felt as though it was pounding its way through my ears.

  I didn't turn around. I couldn't possibly do so.

  The door closed and locked. I heard him remove his coat and hang it up.

  “You told me you were called Varla,” he said.

  “I did, didn't I?”

  “Yeah, and I felt like a complete twat having people stare at me when I asked after you. I told them I owed you a debt of gratitude. That seemed to get me in.”

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, trying to busy myself with rearranging the desk.

  “In town on business. In Room 524 again. Damn tub.”

  “Well, like I told you, it ain't the damn Ritz here love.”

  My pussy was welling with anticipation. I had to take hold of the desk to steady myself.

  “No, it's better,” he said.

  “Fixed your marriage yet?”

  “As if.”

  “Your own fault.”

  “I know.”

  I was wearing a white blouse and smart black trousers. I desperately wanted to know what he had on.

  “What do you expect? A repeat performance?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” he said.

  He walked up behind me, placing his palms along my sides, running them up and down my body.

  “Your arse looks fabulous in these trousers. I didn't really get given the chance to enjoy you before.”

  “No.”

  “I have wanked over you every night since.”

  “Really,” I murmured, with my nipples and my clit standing to attention in his presence. Inflamed with desire, I felt the pulse in my groin and ached for his touch. Anywhere.

  He pushed me over the desk and slapped my behind with such force. I cried out and gasped, delighted by his strike. I stood back up slowly and pushed the back of my head into his chest, moaning with approval. The cool fingertips of his large hands brushed each side of my neck with fine caresses and I was ablaze with anticipation.

  “I can smell the heated delight from your pussy, do you want my cock?”

  “Yes,” I whispered weakly. His voice brought my entire being alive.

  He breathed against the back of my neck and I shuddered. He moved up against me and I could feel his stubborn shaft rubbing between my ass cheeks. I moaned. He reached in front of me and clenched his palm against my groin.

  “Ah,” I squirmed. My breaths were coming in short, raspy gasps.

  He pulled my zip, pushed his hand down my trousers and into my knickers. Two fingers rubbed me and dipped inside. A set of teeth nipped at my ear. I pushed back against his solid form behind me.

  “You're so wet, Charlotte.”

  “Oh god, I know. Make me cum. Please.”

  “Pardon?” he said, right in my ear, before vigorously rubbing me senseless. I cried out and gushed all over his hand.

  He swirled me around next, pulling me in his arms for a kiss. Our mouths wide, our tongues licked furiously. His taste was spectacular. Between the haziness of lust, I saw him wearing a grey suit and decided he looked gorgeous. He smelt great, of expensive continental cologne. It was all so unreal. I unzipped him and touched his silken cock with my loose fingers twirling about his organ. I rolled his foreskin down and caressed the large head, flicking pre-cum away to taste it.

  I caught the dangerous look in his eye, of predatory longing. He pulled my slacks off and pushed me to lie down on the desk. He rolled on a condom before sliding his cock around my clit.

  “I want that shirt off,” I demanded, spreading my legs to incense him, holding my knees up. My pussy was open for business.

  “Ditto,” he growled, and we both immediately got a little bit more naked.

  “Tits free too,” he snarled.

  “Bastard.” And I took off my bra.

  His shoulders were broad and sturdy; his chest hard and his stomach a little round at the midriff, but still solid. He was just my type. I liked them thick and mean. He plunged his rock hard cock into the opening of my vagina and manoeuvred his hips in circles, teasing me with his swollen head.

  “You don't want that dildo again, do you?” he asked.

  “No,” I groaned.

  “What do you want, Charlotte?”

  “Cock. All of it. Now.”

  And he responded. He shafted me with one swift move, pushing me across the desk so that my head hit the wall. Pussy juice sprayed out of my consumed hole and I came.

  “Oh yes!” I gasped.

  “Oh what?” he asked, with a sinister undertone.

  “Cock. I wanna ride your cock.”

  “I knew you'd succumb to me, bitch.”

  He pulled me up and plonked himself in my desk chair, a naff thing that might easily break. He tilted it back and we almost went flying. We thankfully hit a table that kept us propped up. I cradled his head and grabbed his hair like it was rope to swing from. He was handsome in the daylight with his natural glow shining through; pink cheeks and plump, crimson lips complemented by a shaven, strong jaw and a head full of gorgeous hair. I swung on his lap as fast as lighting, working him like a good bitch should. His hands were all over my body, running over my skin fast and deliberately.

  “Your cunt is mine,” he growled.

  We bit and chewed on one another. It was frantic and thoughtless. He delighted in the feel of my arse and tit, and drank of my nipple, drawing it down his throat. I slapped his chest and reprimanded him, telling him
not to neglect my clit. He rubbed and I fucked. It was blind lust. We ended up a steaming, messy pile of bodies, ejaculation gluing us together.

  “Five-two-four,” he whispered, breathlessly.

  I repeated the number, though he need not have reminded me. I knew the hotel like the back of my hand.

  “When do you get off?”

  We chuckled. I nibbled his lip and groaned as he stroked the red ass cheek he'd slapped.

  “Ten. What do you want me to bring?”

  “Yourself, in a dress. I want to take you out for dinner.”

  “I don't do dates,” I warned.

  “I don't either. This is dinner and fucking.”

  “Fine. But I don't have a dress. I'd have to go home.”

  “Buy one. Nip out on your break. Need money?”

  “Nope.” I still had the money in my wallet that had been waiting to be spent for ages. Perhaps it was time.

  “Make sure it's demure. I get very jealous of other men's stares. I don't know what I might do to punish you if you can't keep these curves in check.”

  I raised my brow, kissed his nose, and told him he had better lick me clean before he went. I still had a full day's work to get through without thoughts of him dribbling down my thighs all day. He dined on my juices while I was tied up against the coat hooks of the door; his shirt fastening my wrists, my feet on the desk chair backrest as I was almost suspended, splayed, in midair. He was sat on the chair right beneath me, holding my pussy lips wide open. The thought of an audience listening to us behind the door made it even more intense. He must have quickly realised I was an exhibitionist. Above all else, that got me off. I had experienced plenty of scenarios at the Lodge ‒ that I knew my own preferences very well. Domination came second to my lust for the thought of almost getting caught.

  Chapter XV

  An Unexpected Twist

  I knew for certain I was dangerously attracted to Noah. He was tall and strong, frisky and pleasingly well-endowed. His was not the biggest cock I'd had, though it seemed to me the sheer manner of our encounters were what made me cum. This was new. I did not know what he did for a living nor did I really care. I did not know what his home life was like, whether he was honest, or if his marriage really was over. I really did not know. Though in my office that day, I did notice he no longer wore his wedding ring. But that was easily dispensed with for the sake of getting someone in the sack. I bore no illusions.

  I spent that whole day knowing he was in town, possibly only yards away from me. It set me right on edge. I wondered whether he may spring himself on me once more, and fuck me on a whim again. I imagined him sitting in an office not far away, in the city centre, rubbing his cock in his trousers underneath the desk at the thought of me being in the vicinity. I was on edge that entire shift and felt exhausted by the time 10 o'clock rolled around. The flashbacks and the not knowing what I was getting myself into were driving me mad.

  In my office, I rang him up.

  “Hello?” he answered.

  “It's me. Shall we meet in the lobby in ten minutes? I just need to get into something more comfortable.”

  “Can't wait,” he said, and put the phone down.

  I had been out at dinnertime and gone to a department store I knew was keeping late hours. I added one hundred of my own pounds to Alex's and told myself to just blow it. I needed shoes too, plus some underwear; what I was wearing probably stunk to high hell. In my office, I used a pack of baby wipes to clean my armpits, pussy, ass, face and neck. I'm sure staff I was working with that day might have got a whiff of me and wondered what it all was. I acted completely normal, however.

  Clean and fresh, I pulled on a simple black Wonderbra and matching lace hipster panties. No suspenders or tights: I would brave the elements. The choice of underwear was quite intentional. After he told me not to buy anything revealing, I decided to up the ante. I knew his warning was indeed an incitement. I had purchased a figure-hugging, black lace dress that was long on the sleeves but short of the skirt. The slip underneath barely covered my chest and a lot of cleavage would be on show beneath the lace. It was the most daring thing I had ever worn outside the Lodge and somehow it had been one of the first things I had seen in the shop. It was luck, I told myself. I also bought a pair of brogue black ankle boots with mock-mahogany skyscraper heels. I slicked my hair back with water, bringing it to the side with a flick and tucking it behind my ears. I painted my lips red, my eyes black, and left the rest of myself natural. I pulled my tits up as high as I could in the bra and jiggled them, ensuring they would maintain. In the small mirror of my office, I was pleased by what stared back at me. I would drive him mad all evening and that is exactly what I intended. The only purpose of my clothing was his provocation and this was something I could deal with.

  I locked the office door, tucking the keys into my little black purse, and walked down the corridor. I felt sexier than I had ever done before. And it wasn't because I knew I looked good. It was because I knew I was desired by someone whom I desired in return. It was because I felt comfortable and relaxed with him. It was because I wanted to look nice for him. He was the tonic that tipped me over the edge and gave me the confidence. I reached the lobby and marched across confidently, seeing him in a chair. He leapt up at my sight and walked in my direction, joining me at my side as I swept toward the revolving doors. Jaws dropped on the reception desk, heads were turned, and I grinned, feeling a little warmth of Alex's proud smile shine down on me.

  “Charlotte,” he greeted me, in his luxurious voice.

  “Big cock,” I called him. He chuckled.

  Noah's hand rested at the base of my back as we exited and there was no greater feeling than being admired by a man I really fancied.

  We reached the outside, walked a little down the street away from the hotel, and he pulled me in a doorway. He wore fitted dark-blue jeans and a blue paisley shirt, plus a light-brown suit jacket. His own hair slicked back, and his throat fresh and shaven, he was intoxicating. He pulled my waist and drew me toward him, closing one large hand around my neck. The look in his eye was one of fierce desire. He may have contemplated taking me right back to his room.

  He lightly nipped my bottom lip, eyeing me closely. My stomach hurtled around my abdomen. My being came alive with him nearby. I could not see straight. He made me dizzy. I knew where I wanted him to really chew me and I felt an urge to put my mouth around his cock.

  “Everyone was looking at you,” he groaned.

  “This does not please you?” I said, looking down at my dress.

  He grabbed my waist tighter, narrowing his eyes at the sight of my self-confidence.

  “What food do you like?” he asked.

  “At least slightly palatable,” I mocked, rubbing my knee against the inside of his thigh. “I really don't mind.”

  “I'm glad you're not fussy. I already booked us into 4,550. That okay?”

  “Fine, but you know the waiters…”

  “Exactly why I asked for you to dress demurely, sweetie,” he revealed.

  “Protective, are we?” I asked.

  “Nope. Just territorial.”

  He swirled me around to push me against the door. I gasped, delighted by his dominance. He was one of the few men not put off by my tough exterior. He thumbed my throat and rested the other hand on my waist. He kissed me hungrily and I gave as good as I got. We were rampant for one another. A vivid image flashed through my mind of him fucking me against a wall with all our clothes still on except his trousers dropped and my knickers pulled to the side. It would be sensational.

  I gasped for air after his kisses ceased, opening my eyes to see him waiting for me. I wanted to tell him he was a sensational kisser, but the lady in me wanted to hold something back.

  He took my hand and sent a butterfly through my stomach when he smiled. A minute later, the restaurant was in our sights as we prepared to cross the road. He held my hand, still, and turned to me. Against the night sky and the traffic lights, two
lanes of cars and the throngs of nightlife, he drew my full gaze to him. His eyes were lively and pious, his mouth full and his hair so luxurious and smooth. His physique was twice the size of my own and yet in my heels I reached his mouth easily.

  He murmured, with his breath mixing with mine, “I've never known anyone so fuckable.”

  And that was apparently the revelation of the night. He wrapped his arm around me instead and rested the tips of his fingers at the swell of my buttock. Cradled under his shoulder, I fit so snugly against him, and felt that whatever our connection, it was becoming undeniable.

  Inside the plush Indian restaurant, he was as territorial as was possible. He wrapped himself around me as we sat in the dark, soporific lounge having pre-dinner drinks. His was a scotch, mine a G and T. I crossed my leg in his direction and he stroked my bare knee.

  He whispered in my ear, “Aren't you cold?”

  I shook my head and kissed him, tasting the hot, woody liquor on his lips.

  “I need to stay fresh for later,” I murmured. His eyes grew wide.

  He kissed my neck and whispered, “You wore that kind of bra to taunt me, didn't you? I know the brand. Look at them. They're magnificent. Fuck, they are glorious.”

  He must have been looking right down my front. He shifted in the large armchair and the leather squeaked.

  “I chose the best thing for the job. It's difficult to find a good bra these days, especially for a double F cup.”

  His head drew back slowly and his face froze in delirious joy. I nodded.

  “Next time, I buy the underwear,” he chuckled, and kissed my shoulder through the lace. “Now that I know your size.”

  “If the man's got good taste, maybe he's worth something after all,” I goaded him, nonchalantly watching the gawping waiters.

  He crossed his own leg in my direction and the sound of the denim shifting seemed somehow louder than all the chattering and clanking in the background. I saw he was hiding a bit of a bulge. The thought of his underwear and how I might get beneath it was distracting. I looked at the carpet, the lights, the bar, other customers, anything to take my mind off his crotch. He was hanging off my body, obviously desperate to jump it. Anyone might have been able to tell.