How Long Does It Take… For a Maid To Bring Fresh Towels …❗🤔 - a Blog Post by Paulxx001

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9/1/2020 12:01 pm

Last Read:
9/12/2020 12:53 pm

How Long Does It Take… For a Maid To Bring Fresh Towels …❗🤔

She slid the hotel key card in the slot, pulled the polished brass handle up and stepped into the darkened room. She paused - adjusting to the gloom - then spotted the shadow sitting in a chair. She strutted across the capacious space and spoke.

“I want to see the view. Where’s the remote?”

The man in the chair nodded toward the coffee table. Motors soon hummed as a half dozen burgundy curtains parted to reveal broad lengths of floor to ceiling glass. They were perched high above the city, facing a steel and mirrored monolith nearby. Brilliant sunlight instantly beamed in and bounced off ivory walls and black marble floors. She turned to him and met his ravenous eyes.

He was naked - his hands and feet handcuffed to the high-back wooden chair. Her heels clicked a hypnotic rhythm as she circled him. She leaned forward and let him inhale her scent. Her crimson lips held back just far enough to let him feel their heat. She watched and smiled as his cock twitched. Then she stood aside.

She took off her short dress and flung it on a nearby couch. His pupils grew wide as he watched her unclasp her lace bra and slip out of her white panties. She approached him again.

With the softest of touches, she traced a path with her nails from his chest, down his stomach, along his thighs and to that spot he wanted her to touch. It twitched again as her warm fingers clasped his throbbing appendage. It hadn’t been 5 minutes and he was already wet with desire. She smirked when she whispered in his ear.

“Do you think you can last ten minutes? I’ll make sure you’ll be begging me, an hour from now.”

He accepted that he was hers to command. The deep ache he felt worsened as she straddled him, grabbed his cock and stroked it. His head flung backward in the chair as he moaned. And as he did, she released her digits and laughed again. This would be the persecution he could expect from her. She’d bring him closer and closer, encouraging his desperate, acquiescent whimpers before she’d let him cum. His legs were already trembling and he’d begun to pant.

Sometime later, she finally released him from his inflamed sensual agony. He groaned and moaned loudly in grateful spasms. And eventually, he sat spent… breathing as if he’d just run a sprint.

She walked to the couch, slipped on her clothes and turned to him.

“Don’t get up,” she spoke facetiously while giggling; “I noticed that you left it in the black leather billfold on the table by the door.”

“Wait. Hold on a second. The keys to the handcuffs are in the kitchen,” he called to her.

“Oh, I’ll let room service know that you need fresh towels. She’ll find those keys for you. Can you wait that long?”

Without another word she walked toward the table at the door, picked up the billfold and left. The only sounds were of his breathing as it grew louder and quicker. A thought formed in his head as he squirmed impatiently in his seat, “How long does it take for a maid to bring fresh towels?”
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Are you patient and think it’s an asset or do you think having patience is over-rated?
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