Copyright 2006
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I work in the software industry, performing a variety of technical duties for large customers. As a result, I travel quite a bit on business. Most trips are 2-3 days maximum, which is about the perfect amount of time to get the necessary things done but not long enough to get really lonely or homesick; that wasn't the case on this particular trip.
One of the largest customers in my region suddenly came to the realization that they needed to implement one of our larger and more-complex pieces of software immediately. Normally, planning, testing and deploying this software takes a month of planning and two months for deployment. However, since the customer did not want to take that long, they pushed us to do it much faster. Additionally, my company would usually have the consulting wing of our company do this work (for a hefty $$$), but once again, the customer balked at the high price. Since the our Sales Executive for this customer brings in huge overall $$$ from this customer each year, they pulled the political strings to have me go on-site (at our company's expense) and deploy the software using a plan used previously at another large customer. (By using the previously tested plan, we would save a shitload of time on the planning phase.) I'd go in for a couple of weeks (including weekends), get the project rolling and then hand-off to another technical specialist who would perform the follow-through on the deployment.
I got the call on a Friday evening, telling me what I had to do and when I needed to do it. (The call(s) were actually much longer and more involved than that, but we'll skip those bits so we don't put you all to sleep.) Suffice it to say, I had to pack my bags and equipment immediately, catch the first flight I could and be ready to work on the next morning. The flight was no problem...I was able to grab a seat on the red-eye flight. The hotel was a different story. Due to the last-minute nature of the booking, every "business class" hotel room was booked. I ended up booking a room at a luxury resort hotel about 30 minutes away from the customer site. This hotel cost a fortune (particularly on short-notice), but the nature of the job/customer made it acceptable with my company to spend that much on a room. (At the time, I was actually pretty happy with the turn-of-events regarding the hotel room...getting to stay at such a nice place was very rare with my company, so I looked at it as an unexpected perk.)
I got to the job and started a grueling grind of 12-hour workdays right away. The project went pretty well, but the customer's corporate culture caused almost-all of their employees to act like overbearing pricks who are never satisfied (even if you do something that they need, before they ask, complete the work instantly and without errors and for free.) I was glad to escape that place every night so I could go back to my hotel, work out and enjoy some room service while I filled out status reports for my company. It was a pretty lonely existence, as the only people I spoke more than a sentence to face-to-face were the (unpleasant) customer contacts and the maid who came in each night to perform turn-down service in my room.
On the third night, I'd just got done working out and was showering in my room when the nightly turn-down maid knocked on my door. I was buck-naked, so I attempted to quickly throw on one of the complimentary robes in the bathroom. I'm a large, muscular guy (think of an NFL lineman about 5 years past retirement), so the robe barely fit over my arms and chest. I barely got the waist sash tied and scooted over to door. I saw through the peep-hole that it was Manuela, the maid who'd turned down my bed the past two nights.
I undid the locks and let her in (with her giving her standard, "Good evening, sir. Turn-down service this evening?"
I smiled and nodded, holding the door open for her. Now it'd been close to 5 days since I'd had sex, so by this night, I'd started checking out just about every woman I saw. Manuela was no different in this respect, as I chit-chatted with her while she did her tasks, I also stealthily admired her body. Manuela appeared to be around 50 years old and spoke with a fairly-thick Spanish(?) accent. She had a solid, thicker build and wore the traditional maid uniform and comfortable shoes. I liked her right away on the first night because she beamed a bright smile frequently and made an effort to make conversation with me about work, my family and other topics. (You've got to love the commitment to customer service the top-level hotels demonstrate.) On top of these positive qualities, Manuela had a nice, "bubble butt" that any butt aficionado would notice right away. I leaned back against the dresser and watched her while we talked, with my neglected penis trying to peek out and see for himself. She quickly completed her tasks and bid me goodnight. I was again left alone with a raging libido, memories of her smile and round bum playing through my mind...and more reports and e-mail to get done.
The next day was a repeat of the prior three...long hours, good progress on the project and a return to the hotel for a workout and shower. I really liked the plush, terry-cloth robes the hotel kept in the bathrooms, so despite their tightness on my big frame, I continued to wear it after my shower that night. Manuela's smile, brown eyes and ass had been in my thoughts throughout the day, usually bringing a hard-on along with it. I was getting hornier than I normally like to, so I'd planned to masturbate to some Internet porn after turn-down service that night.
Soon enough, the knock on the door at the usual time came and I peered through the peep-hole. I figured Manuela wouldn't work *every* night, but to my surprise, she was at the door again. I opened the door and we greeted each other as I let her into the room. We chatted a little longer than usual that night, which seemed only natural, as we were slowly becoming more acquainted over each passing night. My dick was hard even before she came to the room that night, but I was painfully aware of it while she was in the room. I wasn't rock-hard, but the terry-cloth robe rubbing against it made it very difficult not to go to full-staff right then and there.
I was leaning back against the dresser with my hands in the pockets of the robe, trying to discretely keep the robe over my dick without rubbing it against the cloth any more than absolutely necessary. When Manuela was done, she started to bid me goodnight when I offered my right hand in a hand-shake, thanking her for being a pleasant person to talk with each night. She smiled widely and took my hand and shook it, thanking me in return. I saw her eyes dart downward and her left hand came up to her mouth, suppressing a laugh. I glanced down and, to my horror, saw my dick poking out of the robe (as if the little bastard wanted to thank her himself.)