Thank you to Kimberly for her idea and editing.
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Isn't it amazing that while at work nothing can be going on, but then all of a sudden -- FLASH! Work comes out of nowhere and from all different directions like traffic coming into a roundabout from four roads and develops into an instant frenzy? In the hospitality business, that's a regular occurrence and havoc ensues as the frenzy expands exponentially.
Years ago, 9 years ago to be more precise, that was the case at the upscale Inn where I worked. It was my second job out of high school, a much better opportunity during a year I took off before heading off to college.
Just 19, I needed cash, and fast food wasn't the place to get it. After a bit of flipping burgers I secured a slot at the Inn, where the tips from the upscale visitors flowed oh so well. I split my time between parking cars and delivering room service depending on the day and the whim of my boss.
Not too mind challenging, but the tips were good and my bank account grew. Not too mundane, as every once in a while there was a new challenge or new opportunity to make a buck. But in retrospect the most memorable day was the one in which I was delivering room service.
The well secluded Inn, as mentioned, was upscale and had a main hotel but also had several small cottages. Those cottages were expensive, but beautiful. Each came with its own little garden, a cozy wood burning fireplace, an ample sitting room and all the amenities expected by the clientele.
It was a quiet part of the day, nearing 4 p.m., when Sarah, my boss, said a delivery run was needed to the Gaudet House in a couple minutes. She asked if I could stay past 4 -- my time to clock out -- as the guy on the next shift was going to be a couple minutes late. No problem on my part, because it had been a slow day, tips light, and I had no place to go anyway.
The Gaudet House was located at the far end of the courtyard from the hotel, and to keep out of the eyes of others we had a back breezeway that allowed us to stealth behind the cottages. Minimal lighting so at night it could be a challenge rolling down the cart but during daylight hours it wasn't a problem.
A couple minutes later I was smartly rolling down that breezeway with a couple of BLTs and a bottle of wine in tow. All I could think about was the potential for a double digit tip. Knocking on the door, there was a short wait as I heard rustling inside before an older gentleman opened the walnut door, gave me a once over, and directed me to a table near the fireplace across from where his wife sat in a comfortable chair.
The sixtyish guy was distinguished looking, and executive of some kind I'd bet, with a little bit of greying on the temples. The woman was quite attractive, maybe 45 years old but much younger than the man, legs crossed with a terrycloth robe covering her body. It was as if she'd recently showered, as her hair was pulled back and she was wearing ugly dark black glasses.
Pushing the moving table toward the table, I snuck a glance at the woman. While she was fully covered, the comfy white robe wasn't totally pulled together, and I swear I caught a glimpse of a red bra when she moved in the chair and I absolutely caught a good look at her lily white legs. She caught me looking, and just smiled. My look confirmed she was pretty, and the glasses and hair was just a façade.
The man asked that I move all the meal from one moving table to the firm one near the fireplace, and I made up the table and moved all the food. Finished, I looked at the man.
"Can you run and get us some ice," asked the man? "Oh, and a couple more logs for the fireplace."
Of course I could, and exited to run back to the main house for a bucket of frozen water. Along the way I captured three fireplace logs. That too just a couple minutes and soon I was back knocking at the door of the simple cottage. First dropping the logs near the fireplace I then sat the ice bucket near the wine, wondering who put ice in wine. But the customer was always right. So I simply did the task and stood there.
There was a silence in the room as we glanced from one to another.
"Are you expecting a tip?" asked the man.
A brief wait before I said, "No sir....I'll get out of your way now and allow you and your wife to enjoy the food." Of course I wanted to tell him I wanted a pack of twenties as my tip, but, well, the customer is always right and I'd say just about anything to keep away from a complaint.
The man stared at me, and I began pushing the table toward the doorway.
"Wait," said the woman with a slight slur in her soft voice. "Charles, sometimes you are not funny. Of course he deserves a tip. He's been wonderful."
The man began to reach for his wallet as the lady stood. I just remained still, not wanting to break the scene before me.
I heard some rustling to my side, and when I looked my eyes nearly popped out. The woman was slowly removing her terrycloth robe, almost in slow motion, left arm first, then the right and then dropping the robe almost sensuously to the floor.
That started the staring at her body. Do you blame me? My eyes were fixated on her red push up bra and frilly pink panties, the kind with lace along the top and a little bow in the front. Almost a pull me please to unveil bow! Damn.
"Now that's a tip," said the man, nodding at his wife while slipping a bill into my hand. I didn't acknowledge his action or the amount (which turned out later to be a $20). I just kept my eyes on the wonderful sight in front of me. His wife was beautiful, standing there with barely two wisps of clothing on. She reached a hand in front of her breasts as if to cover the bra, and demurely looked at the floor.
Soon she was stepping toward me.
"This boy has been so nice, he deserves an added tip," said the woman, hugging me and blowing into my ear as her hand played with the front of my trousers. "Damn, Charles, I think I deserve a tip as well, or maybe even the whole thing."
The innuendo was infectious. Her hand was playing with my cock, and the tip --- hell the whole thing --- was throbbing to her touch. At first I thought the guy might deck me, but once over that thought I decided to let things flow. That meant enjoying the dry hand job below while the woman nibbled my neck.
