Aimee still shakes her head about how she ended up working housekeeping at the Standard, but her life these days is such that its rare she gets time to even think at all. A single mom, whose divorce two years earlier left her broke, taking this job was all she could do to provide for her 2 girls. She was picking up extra hours and assigned to the penthouse floors and it wasn't lost on her that it wasn't too long ago she was a guest in hotel rooms like this, not someone who cleaned them up.
As she moved down the hallway, pushing her cart, a door opened, and an angry Japanese woman bounded out, agitated and looking for someone to yell at. Aimee fell right in her crosshairs and that she Aimee didn't speak the language didn't slow the angry woman down. Now, it wasn't uncommon for a guest on this floor to treat staff with disdain, so Aimee tried to roll with the punches thinking perhaps a little extra attention- towels, or a room service cart taken away- would solve the problem.
As Aimee entered the room, it became obvious she was being yelled at for being late. Confused, and trying to explain, she followed the woman into the suite's enormous bathroom. Once inside, she was taken aback- on one side, a beautiful Jacuzzi on the other, a mini-sauna- with a bidet next to the toilet, even a chaise lounge set to the left of that. The room was decorated with candles, and flower pedals, and in in the tub, another woman, relaxing, her eyes covered with a soft washcloth.
Confused, Aimee looked to the woman who lead her here, who's yelling was now replaced with contorted facial expressions and silent, angry gestures, clearly meant not to disturb the woman in the tub. She handed Aimee an envelope, it felt heavy, and Aimee glanced down to see it stuffed with cash, on the front of it, the word "Valet".
The woman then moved towards Aimee and handed her a robe. She took out her phone and made a call, gesturing towards Aimee as she waited for the intended party to pick up. The woman began motioning to what Aimee was wearing- her hotel uniform- before giving up on her call, and entering some text into Google Translate to reveal the word "unacceptable".
Now the woman was pulling at Aimee's uniform, making it clear she was to change. Confused, Aimee began. As she did, there was more furious typing on her phone, and a new Google Translate message reading "1 Hour." Aimee now was half way through removing her hotel uniform top, revealing a beautiful red bra she had been wearing. It wasn't that Aimee dressed for this, it was just that the high-quality lingerie she wore all time in her old life, were one of the few reminders left of who she used to be. The Japanese woman paused to take her in, and as Aimee revealed the matching bottoms, even she seemed distracted by it. The moment gone, the woman in the tub stirred, and Aimee was ushered over to her.
In broken English Aimee heard "Oh, you're here." She was handed a washcloth, and the woman shifted her position. Aimee paused for a moment, before the woman with the phone nudged her into action. Aimee moved to the tub as the angry woman exited.
The woman in the tub was around Aimee's age, and from what Aimee could gather by looking at her hair, and skin, she took very good care of herself. She reeked of wealth, the kind of women Aimee would socialize with not too long ago, whose bodies and appearance were testament to the finest products and care money could buy.
Without looking up, the woman in the tub uttered "Back, firss..."
Aimee paused, and this time the woman more forcefully said "Back. Firss!"
Aimee, took the cloth and began washing the woman's back. She felt her skin under the thin material of the cloth. She moved it over her upper back, over her shoulders, then back down again. The woman in the tub leaned forward, and Aimee washed the part of the back she was given access to. The water was warm, the soap glided over her so easily, and the woman in the tub let go a relaxed sigh. Aimee moved down the back further, and then, she unmistakably felt her hand slide over the woman's bottom. Momentarily shocked, she dropped the cloth, her hand now resting on the woman's behind. For what seemed an eternity, it stayed there. And then, in a teasing voice, the woman in the tub acknowledged the moment...
"Oh, did you drop it?"
Aimee swallowed. In a soft voice, almost a whisper, she replied. "Yes."
The woman turned, reached under herself, and then handed Aimee the cloth. This was the first time she looked at Aimee. She looked away slyly.
"Oh...you older." Then, looking at her again, suppressing a smile, "White lady. Is okay, we done with back now."
The woman handed Aimee the cloth and guided her over to stand in front of her. Taking Aimee's hand, she moved the soapy cloth over her shoulders, top of chest, and then breasts. She looked Aimee right in the eye and smiled.
"You older. I like." She chuckled to herself, "White lady," she repeated.
Aimee's hand was moving over the woman's smallish but firm breasts and she noticed how her nipples began to harden. Her hand, guided by the woman, made soft, large circles around her breasts, and then, guided by the woman, were moved over her nipples. In the tub, the woman arched her back and stretched, Aimee stared in awe. After her stretch, she opened her eyes, smiled and reached out to Aimee, opening her robe. Aimee froze as her robe fell open.
"Ooh, very nice." she said. "I ask for you again..."
The Japanese woman took Aimee's hand and pushed it under the water, moving it between her legs. She sighed warmly, and smiled, looking to Aimee, as Aimee's hand moved over her vagina. Then, looking at Aimee in her eyes, under the she took the cloth from Aimee's hand, leaving her hand where it was. She smiled again, and held her hand there.
"Mmm. You, like me now."
