Room Service

I'd had a hellacious day and, to top it off, when I got to the motel where I was booked to stay I found it was closed down. By order of the Fire Brigade, which order I considered bureaucratic bumph, as who was going to stay at a motel that was still smouldering?

I grabbed something to eat at one of the local diners and headed on down the highway, figuring that if I had to drive around looking for a motel with a vacancy, I could at least be covering some mileage towards home while doing so.

I found a nice looking place a couple of hours and a hundred or so miles down the road. It was only a small town, and if the motel was ever full there'd be more residents at the motel than in the rest of the town. The office was still open, with the old guy behind it watching TV.

I booked in for the night and asked if they provided a room service breakfast. No problems, I was told, and I was given a little form. Now I was seriously buggered, with no burning need to be up and off first thing in the morning. I checked, was told they supplied breakfast right up until nine, and ordered the late breakfast. Sleeping in wouldn't hurt.

I hit my room, hit the bed, and slept.

I woke up at about eight thirty. That left me thirty minutes to shower shave and dress before my breakfast arrived. Twenty minutes later I got out of bed. I still had ten minutes to shower, shave and dress before my breakfast arrived.

I managed the shower and shave part of it and then I heard a rap on the door and the door opened. This, as far as I knew, was a departure from accepted practice. Normally, motel room service rap on the door and leave the breakfast tray outside the room. Curious as to what was going on I flicked the towel around my waist and walked into the kitchen.

There was this pretty little kid, putting the breakfast tray on the table. I thought she was a cute little imp of a kid until she turned and looked at me. Seeing her face I added another five years to her age. This young lady was no kid but a petite young thing of at least sixteen. Then she ran her eyes over me appreciatively and I added another few years. Not a virginal young teenager, I decided.

I glanced at the breakfast tray and raised an eyebrow. The young lady was quick on the uptake.

"Magpies," she said. "They've learnt that trays outside doors mean food, so they raid them as soon as they're left. We've had to switch to putting the trays in the units."

Made sense.

"Bit young to be doing room service aren't you," I suggested, curious about her actual age. "Don't they have child labour laws here?"

"If they do, my father had never heard of them," she returned with a grin, "but I'm not a child. I'm a fully grown adult, I assure you."

"Yeah? It would seem to me that maybe you stopped growing a little too soon."

"You're entitled to your opinion, no matter how poorly thought out it may be," she returned. "My legs are long enough to reach the ground and I think that's all that counts."

At that comment my eyes travelled over her legs and I must say she had very shapely ones. And most of them were on display, because her dress was a little on the short side. As a matter of fact, her clothes were what had led me to my first mistake about her age. They were really a much younger girl's clothes.

"They don't sell adult clothes around here?" I casually inquired, and this time I got a dirty look.

"Not in my size, damn it," she said. "Would you believe I've got to travel to the city to find things my size. It's so unfair."

"That's what happens when you're too lazy to continue growing," I told her.

Let me explain something. The young woman was really a very attractive young lady. Once I'd adjusted my mindset from child to young woman I realised that. She may have been petite, but she was beautifully proportioned. Bust wise for instance. A lovely set of breasts which, while they would look small on a larger woman, were just right for her. All in all, a sexy little pixie of a woman.

Now I've always had a bit of a thing for petite girls, although I'd never dated one quite this petite. Quite frankly she was a turn on, and here was I dressed only in a towel. A motel towel. I suppose what happened was inevitable.

I had slowly been growing an erection while chatting to my pixie. I didn't worry about it because I was covered by the towel. The trouble was that the pixie noticed the towel starting to bulge and giggled. Quite a sexy little laugh, she had, and my cock snapped to attention.

Ever noticed how small motel towels are? I swear they buy the lightest and smallest available. The one I had wrapped around me only just reached and was tucked in by the smallest margin. When my erection snapped to attention it dragged that towel off my waist, and it was sheer good fortune that it caught onto my cock and draped over it.

I thought the pixie was going to bust a gut, she was trying so hard not to laugh. That irritated me slightly.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Kirsty," she said, and I could hear a giggle in her voice.

"I'm Dan. Do you do all the room service here?" I asked her.

"At breakfast time, I do," she said.

I smiled and tossed the towel to one side.

"I think I need a little service here," I murmured, smiling as she turned bright red.

I'd actually thought she'd turn and bolt but she surprised me.

"And just what do you suggest a suitable service would be," she asked sweetly, putting the ball back in my court.

Kirsty was in reach. No way was I going to try and drag her off to bed. Something in her face warned me I would be on a loser if I tried. Instead I reached over and placed my hands on her shoulders and pressed down firmly. She looked a little startled as she found herself being forced to kneel in front of me, my cock gently waving in front of her face.

"Why don't you see what you can come up with?" I suggested.

She looked a little flustered now, not having expected this. Fair enough. I hadn't expected it either. She flicked a look up at my face, but most of her attention was focused on the prize immediately in front of her.

"Um, I don't, I mean, ah, I haven't, um, that is, I don't know what to do. . ." her voice trailed away.

"Just follow your instincts and see where they lead," I suggested, strongly suspecting that said instincts would lead her out the door and back to the motel kitchen with a great deal of haste.

She surprised me again. I heard her gulp, and then she reached out and touched my cock. Just a gentle touch at first, and then she took hold of me. I was expecting her to explore and possibly give me a hand job, but she held my cock firmly, reached over and lowered her head onto me.

Damn. I nearly went through the roof. Her mouth was hot and wet and her head bobbed up and down on my cock and I thought I was going to explode on the spot. For someone who didn't know what to do she had a lot of native talent. She rasped her teeth over the head of my cock and her tongue was doing wicked things to me. She didn't hurry, just set about slowly driving me insane with her mouth.

I wasn't in a hurry to stop her, I assure you, and I let her go for a while. However, not wanting to finish in her mouth, I eventually reached up and lifted her gently away from my cock. She looked up at me, eyes bright. I was looking down at her and breathing heavily.

"Wasn't I doing it right?" she asked. "A girlfriend told me what I should do, and I thought I was doing it right."

"You need a different girlfriend," I muttered, "and yes, you were most certainly doing it right. I just decided to cut it short for the time being.

Right now I'm going to have breakfast and you probably have others to serve and they'll be waiting.

Come back in half an hour and pick up my tray."

"Ah, we normally leave them here for the maids to attend to when they come through cleaning the rooms," Kirsty informed me.

"Really," I said dryly. "I expect you to come back in half an hour to get my tray. I'm the customer and the customer is always right."

She hesitated. "Ah, look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. What just happened was a momentary aberration. It's not going to happen again."

"That's OK," I returned. "I wasn't expecting that to happen again."

She seemed to slowly digest the innuendo behind my statement.

"Um, nothing else is going to happen, either," she said cautiously.

"Then you should have no problems about coming back to pick up my tray."

"Seriously, I mean it," she warned me, though the seriousness of the warning was diluted a bit when her eyes dropped to look at my gently waving erection.

She seemed to finally lose her nerve and started backing towards the door. One last look at me and she bolted. I sat down and ate breakfast and then got dressed. After all, one can always get undressed again.

I wasn't sure if Kirsty would return as told or not. What I was sure of was that, if she did, I was going to have her. I also wasn't sure about the non-virginal part of my assessment, but I damn well knew she was adult and interested. If she was interested enough to come back she was mine, although she'd probably protest a little.

She did return. Almost dead on the half hour there was a knock. I yelled come in and she came in, very slowly, looking visibly relieved when she saw I was dressed.

"I've come for the breakfast try," she announced in a prim little voice.

I nodded gravely and indicated the tray was there waiting. Just before she reached it, however, I intercepted her and turned her to face me. I didn't miss the lightning glance she gave to my groin, checking for an erection, but failing to notice if I had one or not. She wasn't quite game enough to look properly so that she could work it out.

"Yes?" she said, when I turned her towards me.

I didn't say anything. I just started undoing the buttons on her blouse.

"Stop it," she said, slapping at my hands. "What do you think you're doing?"

I didn't say anything. I just concentrated on the buttons, pulling her blouse free of her skirt to make sure I got them all. I did notice that while she protested and slapped at my hands, she didn't try to do up any buttons, just leaving her blouse to gape free.

"Will you cut it out?" she said as I eased the blouse off, leaving her standing in her bra. "I said I wasn't doing anything. I don't do this sort of thing. Just stop."

By the time she'd got that out I was unhooking her skirt. A gentle tug and it went slithering down her legs of its own accord.

"Do you mean that you've never done this sort of thing or do you mean that you just don't do it with customers?" I asked.

She flushed.

"None of your business," she rapped. "Just take it for god's truth that I'm not going anything with you."

Her protests were a little thin I thought, seeing that at the time I was unhooking her bra and drawing it off. I let it drop and took her breasts in my hands.

"For a pixie, you're generously endowed," I told her, gently squeezing. I rubbed her nipples, smiling in satisfaction as they stood out.

"Oh, come on, will you just stop this nonsense," Kirsty half wailed.

I shifted my hands to her panties and slid my hand under them on either side. Kirsty grabbed hold of her panties to hold them in place, but it was the feeblest grasp I've ever come across. Her panties slid out of her grip as though they were oiled, and drifted down her legs, while she blushed and stuttered further protests.

But not a single protest had been backed up by any constructive action.

Now that she was naked I brushed a hand down her front, giving her breasts a rough massage as I passed them, before closing my hand over her mound and squeezing, the whole action designed to emphasise her nakedness.

"What are you going to do?" Kirsty whispered.

She looked both fearful and hopeful. I was suddenly persuaded that she was a virgin and a sudden horrible thought came to me.

"Just how old are you, Kirsty?" I asked.

"Nearly nineteen," she said.

That was a relief, but also left me with a puzzle. How could a woman who reacted the way she did be a virgin?

"I'm going to do what you want me to," I quietly informed her. "You can protest if you like but I'll just ignore that."

With that, I turned her towards the bedroom and ushered her into it, my hand on her bottom. Reaching the bed I just picked her up and laid her on it. Then I stripped again, letting her see that, yes, I did indeed have an erection ready.

Kirsty was looking at me with wide eyes as I sank onto the bed next to her.

"You're going to fuck me, aren't you?" she accused me, as though it had only just occurred to her. "You can't do that. I don't want you to."

Of course she didn't, and I could hear the thunder of wings as a herd of pigs flew past. I could see the fantastic struggle she was putting up while lying quietly on the bed, watching me.

"I'm not giving you any choice," I pointed out calmly. I placed a hand on her breasts, rubbing them back and forth. My other hand slid down to her mound and started explorations, facilitated by Kirsty moving her legs apart.

"My girlfriend says that men put their fingers inside you. You're not going to do that to me, are you?" she asked. "I'm sure I wouldn't want you to do that."

"You mean like this," I asked, starting some deep exploration.

"Yes, like that. I mean, no, not like that. You should stop."

"I will," I assured her, "eventually. Are there any other things that your girlfriend has told you?"

I would really have to meet this girlfriend someday. She was apparently a mine of information of what men do to women when they get hold of them. She'd passed all of her tips on to Kirsty, who had remembered every single one.

It was only fair, I thought, to test each and every one of the things that her girlfriends fertile mind had conjured up. If she hadn't conjured them up then she must have been cutting quite a swathe through the men in the district to get that educated.

A number of the little tips were quite effective. I even learnt a few new ones which would come in useful. A pleasant time was had by all, as they say. When the time for the main event rolled up, Kirsty was just lying there, quivering slightly, aching with her arousal.

I pushed her legs slightly further apart and posed myself above her, ready to drive home. Kirsty looked down at where our bodies were about to merge, and suddenly seemed to remember that she was supposed to be protesting this.

"Wait, you can't, I don't. . ."

At that point I started pressing the head of my erection between her lips.

"Oh, fuck it," she squealed. "Just do it, damn you, do it."

And I did, driving in firmly. Kirsty squeaked when I bulled through her hymen but was too busy pushing herself up against me to let it worry her. We came together hard, and then Kirsty sank back down onto the bed with me holding her there, pinned by my cock.

She was breathing deeply, her face flushed and eager. I pulled back and drove down again and she pushed up to me, not hesitating by even the tiniest bit.

My bemusement was now complete. Kirsty was of age, eager to be laid, and had a good deal of native talent for the actual laying, which she was now demonstrating. How the hell did she manage to remain a virgin? Not that I was letting the puzzle put me off my stroke. I was driving home into her tight hot body just as eagerly and forcefully as she was responding.

I shelved the puzzle to a more appropriate time, preferring to concentrate on the sweet young body clinging to me and doing indescribable things to me.

As far as I was concerned, Kirsty was perfect. She responded like a dream, driving my arousal higher with every movement of her body. Likewise, my relentless hammering of her had her squirming and writhing under me, little pleas emerging from her, begging for more. She wasn't sure what more she wanted, but her body was telling her that more was required.

She clung to me, legs wrapped tightly around me, arms around my neck holding me tight while her hips pressed ever upwards at me, trying to make me deeper with every stroke.

It just went on and on. Both of us were gasping, and there was no way we could retain this level of energy for much longer. We'd collapse with exhaustion.

Kirsty started whimpering, tossing her head from side to side, and I drove in harder than ever. I was ready and I was coming in short order, and if Kirsty didn't make it in time she had my sympathy, but there was no way I would be able to stop what was happening.

I exploded into her, my seed splashing her, hard and hot, and Kirsty caught fire. She just gave a deep groan and I could feel her passage clamping down on me, eager to milk me, while she shuddered in a paroxysm of ecstasy.

Then we both collapsed, drained. Well, I was drained. Kirsty was just lying there with this enormous smile on her face.

After a while, when we both seemed to be inhabiting the same world again, I asked her the question.

"Kirsty, how the hell was it that you were still a virgin. I'm not trying to insult you, but I'd have thought a woman like you would have had a steady boyfriend at your age, and boyfriends generally like to become intimate."

"Family problems, you might say," said Kirsty. "As well as owning this motel, my father is the Sheriff, and he's promised to shoot any boys that try to get familiar with me. It tends to scare them off, particularly after the accident."

"Accident?"

"Oh, one of the boys called daddy's bluff and started coming around regularly. Then he accidentally got shot while out hunting. It was only a flesh wound and it was ruled an accident but the boys have been nervous ever since. It wasn't even daddy that shot him, either, so it's not really fair."

"I see," I murmured, deciding to drive very carefully when leaving the town, which I would be doing very, very soon.

"Maybe you should pick out a man you like and start going out with him. Give him a chance to get better acquainted. Warn your dad it's hands off, and you'll find you'll meet some nice guys out there. Once your dad realises you're an adult, he'll let you alone."

She looked rather doubtful, but I assured her it would all work out. Then I gave her a kiss and told her to take a shower. I, I pointed out, had some business appointments and would have to be gone very shortly.

Very shortly indeed. I was dressed and gone while she was still in the shower. Father a sheriff with a tendency to shoot her boyfriends? I'm glad I didn't know that before she seduced me.