"Room Service, Mister Miller." What a lovely voice she had. Even when she was trying to sound official.
I opened the door and she smiled from ear to ear, showing me two rows of perfect white teeth. "Good afternoon, Sir, your Room Service Order." It was exactly as I had requested, a pot of coffee whose strength I could smell, two large snifters half-full of Bailey's...although instead of a simple bowl of chocolate and vanilla ice cream, there was a huge banana split with about six scoops of ice cream, smothered in chocolate and caramel sauce, and piled high with whipped cream, and three maraschino cherries. She also carried, in the hand that was not holding the tray, what was either a large purse or a small duffel bag.
She looked great, and even though she was dressed in the same outfit I'd seen her in this morning, for some reason she looked a little more casual than she had then. I couldn't quite put my finger on why, though.
I actually had had the presence of mind to clear off a space on the dresser big enough for a serving tray, and had pulled a chair up next to the dresser. "So, what's the damage?," I asked as I reached for the receipt...or what I thought was a receipt. It was actually a little note handwritten on receipt paper. It just said "Complimentary."
"Now, Janelle, you didn't have to do that. I can afford it."
Looking past me to make sure the door was completely closed, she looked me in the eye and said, "Now you listen to me, Mister Jack Miller. Do you realize that I've been walking with my feet off the ground and my head in the clouds since you gave me that rose this morning? The least you can let me do is bring you a nice dessert...oh, and by the way, in case you were wondering, I clocked myself out just before I came upstairs, so I'm on my own time right now."
I took her hand and led her to the edge of the bed where she sat down. I kneeled in front of her and reached behind me to take the two glasses of Bailey's off of the tray and handed her one. "So, Janelle, am I still allowed to tip you, even though the dessert was complimentary?" We clinked glasses, and we sipped at the Bailey's without taking our eyes off each other. Then I figured I should start the conversation.
"So...did you ever find out if you are going to be working the Dance tonight?"
"As a matter of fact, Mister Miller, I did. I will be a 'breaker' tonight, which means that I'll be working wherever I'm needed when someone is having a break. So I might be waiting tables one minute, tending bar the next, in the kitchen the next. So you never know where I'm going to be popping up."
"Well, isn't THAT interesting. I was hoping you'd be there. I know I won't be able to dance with you due to hotel rules, but I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight. Although, quite frankly, I'm even happier to see you now. Did you have a busy day today?"
"Yeah, kinda. We had this big catered lunch for a software company a little while ago. I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Now my feet are killing me. I'm so glad I can sit down for a minute." I watched as she kicked off her pumps, and suddenly realized just what it was that made her look different. both last night and this morning when I had seen her, she had had on black hose. But now, her legs were completely bare, and, from what I could see and smell, relatively freshly shaven. As soon as I realized this, the first thing I wanted to do was look up her skirt, which, as I was kneeling on the floor in front of her slightly spread legs, I could have done in a heartbeat, but I decided to be a gentleman and instead stood up as I said, "well, then the least I could do, especially since you'll be on these feet again in a little while, is to offer you a nice foot massage..."
"Why, Mister Jack Miller, that's awfully sweet of you," she said, batting her eyes and slipping the green jacket off her shoulders, and repositioning herself on the bed as I went into the bathroom to retrieve a warm wet washcloth and the standard bottle of hotel hand lotion. Her position was still a little stiff and formal, so I invited her to slide back and lean against the pillows which were piled against the head board. I sat on the edge of the bed, and made a motion for her to move her feet over onto my lap, which she did rather delicately. I took the warm washcloth and proceeded to wash her feet. I picked one up and thoroughly laved it with the washcloth. She had beautiful toes, and the skin on her feet was as smooth as the skin on her face. I was impressed, figuring she must pamper them once in a while. "Mmmm," she moaned as she relaxed a little sinking back against the pillows a little more. I laid the first foot down on my lap and picked up the other. I noticed as I began to wash the other foot, that she stretched her first leg a little bit, causing her ankle to rub against my crotch. Now, when I had realized that she was without her hose, my cock had already started to react, but when she did this, it began to grow even larger. I tried not to draw too much attention to it, commenting out loud how beautiful her feet were, which she politely thanked me for, telling me that she used a special brand of bath salts that made the skin all over her body as smooth as a baby's. She even accented the "all over" in such a way as if to confirm that she wanted me to touch more if it at some point...
Well, When I finished with the washing, I set the washcloth on the bedside table and picked up the bottle of lotion. I put a sizable dollop onto my hand and began rubbing my hands together as a means of warming the lotion a bit, as it had come out of the bottle a little bit cool. Then, I turned my body slightly toward her so that I was facing her. I had one foot on the floor and the other leg was bend at the knee. I rested her feet on that calf in such a way that her heels were very close to the bulge in my shorts. I picked up one of her feet and started to rub the lotion in. She let out another sigh, took another sip of Bailey's, closed her eyes and said "That feels nice. I think I need this..." She sank down against the pillow a bit more, causing her butt to scooch toward me a little bit, and the foot that I was not rubbing now rested squarely against my bulge.
As I rubbed, I didn't just smooth the lotion into her skin, but really massaged her foot. I made circles around her ankles with my fingertips, and when I got to the sole of her foot, she moaned yet again. This time, I decided to concentrate on the spot that seemed to make her moan, so I dug into her sole with my thumb at that spot, and the first time she opened her mouth after I started rubbing that spot harder, her formality disappeared as she said "Damn, that's a good spot. Right there, just keep that up. So I kept on, and after a while, she moaned still louder and started to writhe a little bit, lifting her leg as if to pull away. This served to do two things. One, it caused me to have to slide a little closer to her in order to keep a hold on her foot, which resulted in my pressing my bulge squarely against her other foot. Two, it caused her skirt to ride up, revealing what I had been curious about a few moments ago, and that was that she not only was without hose at that moment, but that she wore this very lacy lime-green pair of panties that did very little to hide the shape and aroma of her pussy.
I stopped rubbing, more out of pleased surprise than anything at that point, and she let her leg fall back down, which once again concealed her panties from my view. "WHEW!," she said, "You sure know how to give a foot massage." I could almost see her heart beating behind her white blouse, and I could definitely see that her nipples had grown hard while I rubbed her feet.
"Well," I said, dropping her foot into my lap and picking up the other one, "Just wait till I'm finished with this one, you'll never be the same again."
"Oh, trust me, Mister Jack Miller, I'm already a changed woman." With that, she opened her eyes and looked straight into mine. As I got some more lotion from the bottle, she kept looking into my eyes as she rather deliberately rubbed my bulge with her freshly-massaged foot. I pushed back gently but purposefully as I began to rub the lotion into her other foot. She leaned back again, took a somewhat larger gulp of the Bailey's, and closed her eyes again. Once the lotion was evenly distributed on her foot, I began the massage, stopping at one point to tickle her foot with my fingertips. Her eyes opened suddenly and she pulled her leg back quickly in a reflex motion. "Now, now, Mister Jack Miller," she said, "that's not fair. You're going to make me spill this Bailey's all over me, and then where will you be, hmmmm?" Which was unlikely at this point, because as she said this, she drained the last of the glass into her mouth and set it over onto the bedside table.
"Well, you're finished with it now, so all's fair, right?" and before she could respond, I started to tickle her foot again, this time holding her ankle tighter so that she couldn't pull her foot away. Well, I had underestimated one thing about Janelle, and that is the strength that a woman can exhibit when she's being tickled against her will. Since I wasn't about to let go of her ankle, the only thing I could do when she wrenched her ankle back was to get pulled back toward her. but now I was laying on top of her, still holding her ankle and leaning down toward her face. As I said to her, "So, you REALLY don't like to be tickled, do you?" I noticed that I was on top of her in such a way that my bulge now rested squarely on her crotch.
