The maid stood framed in the doorway. The thin, white cotton overall showing her slim body in silhouette as the sun blazed somewhere behind her. I hadn't planned to get out of bed for several hours. I had a vague idea that sometime after lunch I'd walk the ten paces to the beach and relax in a deck-chair until supper time. I was on holiday, it was stinking hot --- what else would I do?
Her questioning face glistened with a faint veneer of sweat. "I make up room?"
I pushed myself up on one elbow and squinted at her. Her legs were planted slightly apart and the harsh light made a perfect translucent vee between slender thighs. "Shut the damn door."
The overall had probably been too big for her once. Now washed a hundred times it stopped three inches above her knees. It lifted six more teasing inches as she stepped inside and held up a sad red bucket and tattered rag. "I clean?"
She scratched at an ankle with the coral-pink sole of her bare foot, and waited.
I shrugged and lay back. "Go ahead."
The $25 dollar a day room a stones throw from the water's edge was the best the hotel had, but tiny. The rough plaster walls had been freshly white-washed. The bed, small table and single chair were painted the same cobalt blue as the frame of the solitary window whose view was somewhat obscured by the overhanging branches of an avocado tree heavy with purple fruit.
She nudged the door shut with her hip. I watched her bend from the waist in that curious way of dancers and Africans to pick up the empty vodka bottle that had slipped off the bed in the early hours. The cheap cotton of the overall strained over her haunches. She straightened up and set about flapping the rag around what little there was in the room. I paid careful attention. As she moved and turned the front of the overall gaped and closed. First a hip then a buttock, then a breast threatening to burst free from the cotton. I decided she was probably no more than a eighteen. My cock stirred and stretched with nonchalant interest.
In five minutes the room was as clean as it would ever be, and I'd confirmed the overall was all she had on. She moved towards the closed bathroom door.
"My wife is in the bath," I said. And she was because this was how we spent our mornings. I slept my hangover away and she soaked hers.
She stepped back, propped herself insolently against the small table and looked at me. Her ebony face gave no indication of what was in her mind. The room was already sweltering and the single sheet that covered me damp and heavy. "I make bed?" She said after a few seconds.
I sat up a little to make myself comfortable, but made no move to get up. A shiver of nervous expectance moved through my stomach and beneath it a part of me stood alert and waiting. "Sure, go ahead," I said.
She reached for the corner of the sheet and began to drag it slowly off me. Her eyes remained on my face as it crept across my naked body; the rough fabric scraping my cock exquisitely as it went. A few seconds later I lay exposed. She dropped the sheet on the floor and let her gaze drift down. The corners of her lips rose in a faint smile.
I pointed at the overall. "That must be hot?"
She glanced at the bathroom door then reached up and slowly undid the top two buttons, her fingers deft and elegant against the white material.
"Finish the bed," I whispered.
She began to move slowly around me, tugging at the bottom sheet, straightening and tucking. Her eyes strayed to my erection every few seconds and each time she bent forward her face came close and warm cinnamon breath brushed my bare skin. And each time I could see her breasts as hard, firm and black as the rest of her body almost freed from the open overall,. She finished the sheet and looked at me.
I had the next idea ready and pointed at the light above the bed. "Dusty."
She brought the chair over, stood it close, and lifted one foot onto it. The overall slid up. She understood the game now and waited. I feasted on the view of sleek ebony thighs.
"More," I said and took the hem of the overall between my fingers. I moved it higher.
