Perks at Work

Peter pushed his sunglasses up onto his head as he walked into the lobby of the old hotel. The cooler temperature greeted him along with strains of soft music. He glanced around as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior and smiled. This was not one of those big chains that slapped up hostels left and right, throwing cheap art on thin walls covered in impossibly busy paper. This place had weathered time, and done so with a reserved dignity. The wooden walls gleamed softly in the dim lighting and the smell of polishing oil mingled with the sweet scents emanating from the large vases of cut flowers.

"May I help you, Sir?"

He swung towards the reservations desk, laptop securely tucked under his arm in its padded carrying case, amused to see a large ledger and fountain pen dominating the counter. He walked over, extending his hand and introducing himself as the man that was going to help the hotel move into the 21st century. (drag them there kicking and screaming if he was judging the expression on the older man's face correctly)

"I see." came the dry reply, the man behind the desk running his palms over the glossy countertop almost protectively.

Peter smiled, sensing it was time to try to make some friends here.

"I'll certainly suggest that we make sure all the electronics are fitted to the insides of the existing furnishings here. We certainly don't want to ruin the ambiance with a lot of flashing plastic boxes and dangling cords."

That seemed to take some of the starch out of the old geezer, but he certainly wasn't going to be won over that quickly.

"Yes well, I'm sure you do whatever it is you do quite well, young man, but this establishment offers a myriad of amenities and accoutrements to a wide variety of guests and I simply don't believe your fancy plastic boxes, as you put it, are going to distinguish well between them, nor provide them with the individual attention and service they have come to expect from their stays with us."

Peter nodded patiently, acknowledging the man's concerns. Change was always difficult. His mere presence was stressful and sometimes even viewed as an affront to the employees of any given business. All he could do was try to come up with a system that worked for the client. He paused before replying.

"Actually, with your help, I plan to list each service and keep a record of usage so that not only will each room be billed properly, but their needs can be anticipated for any future stays.

That seemed to set the old man aback a little. No doubt it was dawning on him that it would no longer be his sole responsibility to make sure there was fresh liver available for Mrs. Smythe's precious Fifi, or that the Higginses were ALWAYS to be boarded in the South Wing, away from the dawning sun and in a room furnished in blue…specifically… He shook himself abruptly and gave a loud HURRUMPH! Obviously, he was going to be stoically difficult, at least for a little longer, on principles alone.

A soft chuckle drifted over from behind Peter and he turned. There stood a chambermaid, by the looks of her uniform; seemingly trying hard to suppress a smile, but her sparkling eyes belied her apparent amusement.

"Now then, Colonel, why don't you let me have a go at Andrew's whiz kid for the morning. I'll show him first-hand my end of things and if he can organize that you can have at him later. If he turns out to be simply impossible, I'll give Andrew an earful myself…and you know I will…

"The Colonel" harrumphed again, although considerably less loudly this time.

The maid cocked her head left. "Follow me then." she said amicably enough and started down the hallway. "I'm Brenda, "she shot back over her shoulder. Peter began extending his hand and then drew it back realizing she was not looking at him at all, but expecting him to follow, and that her shorter legs had set a rather brisk pace. He jogged a few paces to catch up.

"So you're a maid here?" he asked, scrutinizing her tight black dress with the starched white apron a little more closely.

"Housekeeping!" she chided with a hint of laughter in her voice. She suddenly stopped and turned. He had to steady himself with a hand on the wall to avoid crashing into her. She was still smiling, but her eyes were serious now. He was so close to her that her breasts were nearly touching his chest and his gaze rested on her ample cleavage. He could smell the perfume wafting up from her neck. She gave no impression that the close proximity made her the least bit uncomfortable; in fact, with her eyes alone she wrestled his gaze back to her own. He was taller than her, even in her high heels, but she exuded such an aura of competence and control that he suddenly felt the smaller of the two.

"Your client, Andrew owns this place, willed down to him from his father. He's been getting some ribbing on the golf course about his "low tech" business and so…here you are!" her eyebrows rose in emphasis. He noticed she had the darkest brown eyes… "The Colonel and I keep things running smoothly around here. Both of us could have titles and job descriptions much more elevated than the ones we choose to keep. We both feel that working directly with the public and staff keeps us more in touch with the needs of this hotel." Those eyebrows rose again. "Capish?"

He managed to nod, but his attention was drawn to the wisps of dark brown hair that had escaped her bun and were doing such a lovely job of framing her face.

She turned on her heel and was off down the hallway again, leaving him off balance, somewhat confused, and definitely intrigued. He watched those black heels moving over the thick carpeting for a few more strides, eyes following the seams up the backs of her legs, then shook his head as if to clear his senses and bounded off after her.

"Supply closet" she called out. We've got one on each wing and I'd like to get the contents so that they'll automatically be re-ordered once we get low. I'll provide you with a list of supplies, our vendors, minimum quantities…and I suppose you'll need an inventory when you get everything set up…

He chuckled. "You're doing my whole job for…" his voice trailed off. She was up on tiptoes, straining to get a pile of towels off the top shelf and…he swallowed hard…the lacey tops of her garters were peeking out from beneath the hem of her black skirt. His cock twitched. It seemed warm in the hallway all of a sudden and his kaki shorts didn't seem to fit right anymore. He had a fleeting thought that this was a completely inappropriate way for him to be reacting in a work setting, but this woman had somehow unnerved him. He didn't care what was polite or proper. In fact, he was feeling positively lecherous!

She settled the thick pile if towels into a cart and glanced up at him. That one eyebrow raised up again. Damned if she couldn't sense what he was feeling!

"Come along then" she said a little less briskly, almost contemplatively. They moved down the hallway and she unlocked a door to the right. She pushed the service cart all the way in and started moving surely about the room as he leaned against the solid writing desk..

"You'll want to note the differences in the rooms…number and sizes of beds, some with separate sitting rooms, private balconies, that sort of thing." she said while stripping the King sized bed. The air conditioning was set low in this room. She snapped the crisp sheet. His eyes naturally moved towards the noise, which is when he noticed her nipples were hard and clearly outlined beneath the thin, black material. A small moan escaped his lips. Nothing seemed to escape her, however, and her eyes locked on his. That eyebrow slowly arched again. She crossed the room and sat on the straight-backed chair near him, jotting down some of the things she'd just mentioned. Her legs crossed and she slipped one shoe off, one nylon covered foot slowly moving up and down her opposite leg as she paused to think. He watched that foot…heart hammering, cock throbbing…and absolutely couldn't think.

She looked up at him, those brown eyes dancing in amusement, as her foot touched his leg. He gasped. She chuckled, obviously amused, and slowly ran the side and top of her pretty foot up his leg, watching his face the whole time. He had bitten his bottom lip. His eyes were glued to her foot as it made its way over his thigh to the bottom of his shorts. The nylon slid against his skin, almost whispering. He was glad he had the desk to support him. At this moment he was not entirely convinced that his knees would. Her other foot had found its way out its shoe and was creeping up his opposite leg, until she was leaning back in the chair, both legs outstretched and tilted slightly upwards.

"Now, Peter," she almost purred, her feet rotating slightly so that the bottoms rested on his thighs, toes beginning to explore into the legs of his shorts, "What's going on here? Something…" she paused as her toes met at his crotch, wriggling them against his straining bulge. "…is keeping you from giving me your complete attention." He took in an almost tortured breath and moaned. "And we just can't have that…can we?"

He shook his head, not trusting his voice at the moment.

"Undo your bottoms."

His fingers shook as they worked the button free and slipped down the zipper.

"Mmmm." She smiled. Her feet worked their way up his hips, slipping his shorts slowly downward. The taught material pressed down across his already straining cock. He moaned, hips bucking, gasping in relief as his shorts fell at his feet, but she was far from finished with him. Her feet slipped upwards again: silky nylon against his bare legs, one of them coming to rest on the front of his left hip bone…the other…oh my God the other…coming up from underneath his balls…exquisite pressure…running up alongside the underside of his hard, throbbing cock…pressing it against his belly…toes coming to rest on the very head…circling…playing in a quickly growing wet spot at the front of his boxers.

He moaned again, reddening a little, knowing her toes were becoming a little wet and sticky. Those toes curling in his waistband now: her eyes darting from his face to the patch of pubic hair that was becoming more and more exposed.

"Please!" the plea escaped his lips without conscious thought. He was gripping the edge of the desk so tightly his hands were shaking, knuckles white. She responded by jerking his boxers down hard.

"Ahhh!" he cried out as his hard, throbbing cock bounced free. It reared up immediately: swollen, bulging with veins, the shiny head oozing precum.

Her gaze was locked on his raging erection now: those nylon encased feet moving closer….closer…until….

A sort of strangled whimper burst from his throat. Her feet were pressing at him from either side slowly moving…up and down…up and down…stroking evenly. His body was fighting him: his hips needing to jerk forward desperately, his arms aching, shaking from the strain he'd imposed on them.

Her feet left his cock then, traveling up his belly…across his ribs…

"NO!" his voice was loud…hoarse…but he wanted…NEEDED for her not to stop.

Those soft, supple, pretty feet only continued on their path, finding his forearms, toes pointed, sliding gently down them to his hands, urging him to take them. He did so eagerly, almost desperately. Grasping those warm feet, he let his fingers explore the sheer hose as he moved them back to where he needed them: thumbs rubbing her ankles; fingers rubbing along her calves and then down again. Pressing those stockinged feet to either side of his engorged member, he gasped and began to slide between them.

"Oh, God, YES!" he hissed between clenched teeth, hips working, cock pistoning between the soles of her feet. He was gasping, grunting, moaning with every thrust, as she watched him in obvious delight. She squirmed in her chair, thighs parting, her hand disappearing in between them.

He gave one final hard thrust, and spread her legs wide, dropping to his knees between them. His hands explored the warm silkiness to her stocking clad legs, urging the hem of her skirt higher and higher. He leaned in further, almost dizzy as he kissed her pretty panties. The scent of her pussy through the flimsy layer of shiny material filled his senses. Slowly he eased them down her legs, kissing his way back up, intent on those sheer black stockings, but also aware of the treasure that awaited him.

His lips met hers softly, a whisper of a kiss, and then more firmly, his tongue beginning to explore. She threw her legs over his shoulders, leaning back in the chair, watching him from beneath half lidded eyes, moaning softly. Lapping at her slippery slit, he glanced up to watch her. His thumbs explored the contrast between the smooth nylon of her stockings, the coarser lace tops, and the warmth of her bare thighs above that. His finger curled around her garters, pulling her to him as his tongue delved deeper: long, slow, sexy strokes. She gasped and bucked as he grazed her swollen clit. He would not be deterred from his course, however. Slowly, firmly he continued his maddening assault.

His tongue dipped in, finding her hot, hungry hole. God she tasted good! He began to slip in and out of her entrance, tongue fucking her, slow and deep. She was whimpering now, her inner muscles working, trying desperately to draw him further in. Licking two of his fingers, he slid them inside of her. She cried out, gripping at them, her hips working to meet his rhythmic thrusting. His tongue slid upwards, circling her clit: slowly, ever so slowly. Her breathing became erratic and ragged. Fingers plunging in harder, faster, he began to flicker his tongue over the very tip of her engorged clit. She arched up off the chair, her own fingers tangling in his hair, wailing. Her muscles clenched tight, squeezing, convulsing. Juices ran from her already soaking pussy as her entire body trembled almost violently.

The power of her orgasm rocked him. Drawing his fingers out of her, he wrapped his damp hand around his throbbing cock. His eyes closed and began to stroke himself, almost desperate for relief. He was so absorbed; he barely noticed her drawing her legs back, her feet sliding down his body. He gasped as they nudged his hands out of the way, molding themselves around his raging erection. Up and down she moved, stroking him, slinky black nylon against his rock-hard cock. He watched, almost unbelieving as his hard-on disappeared between her sexy nylon clad feet, his swollen cockhead poking out near her toes. A strangled growl erupted from his throat. His back arched. His hips thrust forward hard. He erupted! Hot ropes of white cum splashed against her dark stockings. She growled triumphantly, dark eyes sparking. He lay back, breathing hard, trying to gather his wits about him as she gently milked him dry.

"Well, what do you think?" she chuckled.

"I think I need to call my boss and tell him I'm going to need more time on this project…" he answered "…MUCH more time!"