The ticking of the clock was like the steady beat of a heart, threatening to lull me to sleep.
The numbers were starting to blur in my vision. "Only 4am?" I thought to myself with a groan, leaning back in the office chair. My eyes swept around the small office, wondering how to kill another three hours. Working night shift at a hotel was great, and the pay was decent, but sometimes staying awake was a pain.
The whirr of my laptop drew my eyes back to it and I slid my finger along the warm touch-pad, tapping once to bring up the browser. The internet would be my salvation -- surely there was something there I could waste a couple hours on.
I found myself navigating to my favorite adult site. I was all alone -- the only employee in the hotel, so why not? The minutes ticked by a little faster then, as I chatted idly with strangers and flipped through stories. Before long I felt a faint tingle between my legs as I got wet.
This was a mistake, I realized. Since I was at work, there was no way I could get relief -- unless someone took me to their room and had me there on the bed. I smiled -- it sounded like a plot to a bad porno. My hand drifted down unconsciously until I was running my fingers up and down the inside of my thigh, taken away by my fantasy.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't even hear the sliding doors open. I didn't hear the code being punched into the office door, and I didn't hear the steps behind me until it was too late.
It was the woman who took care of the breakfast bar, but she was nearly an hour early!
"E-rot-ic chat?" she sounded out, confused. I snapped the laptop closed and spun around, brushing my short blonde hair out of my face. I crossed my legs, as if afraid she would be able to tell how wet I was.
Hazan was from Turkey, and was still struggling with the language here. I hoped I could get away with lying about it. "N-no," I stuttered, "It's -- uh," but she was smiling.
"Erotic, means sex -yes?"
I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. I saw my job flashing before my eyes, but she was still smiling. She reached out and touched my hand.
"It's okay," she said, bringing a slender figure to her curved lips, "I wont tell."
Relief washed over me, but then she was grabbing my hand, pulling me to my feet.
"I wont tell," she repeated, "as long as you do something for me."