‘Darling, you really must loosen up.’ Henrietta urged. ‘You’re far too sexually tight. Let me take you on a nice little shopping trip to New York and we’ll stay at the Hotel Delice. In no time at all, you’ll feel like a new woman.’
I loved Henrietta because she was so unconventional. She smoked offensive strong black cigarillos and drank tequila like a man, besides which she had an unquenchable and unorthodox appetite for sex.
Henrietta always stayed at the Hotel Delice since she said it offered unique room service. As I stepped inside I was struck by the hotel’s curious ambiance and its air of studied decadence. My room itself, was stylish with heavy flocked wallpaper and period deco furniture. Henrietta assured me the Delice was once the haunt of movie starlets and politicians. I could certainly imagine Marlene Dietrich stereotypes swooning and fucking on the furniture.
‘You’re right, it has a certain dilapidated charm and a fabulous vibe.’ Draping my coat over a chair, I pushed open the bathroom door. The bathroom was luxurious with gold taps and an extensive provision of fragrant soaps and oils.
‘I knew you’d like it.’ Henrietta enthused. ‘But it has more charms than you may at first think. This hotel has quite a reputation and it has some very special members of staff. Staff, who go out of their way to make you feel good. But one thing darling. You mustn’t be shocked or scandalised by what transpires here and more importantly, you mustn’t complain to management.’
‘Whatever are you on about?’ I laughed. ‘Why would I want to complain?’
‘Well Carla. One of the specialities of this hotel is its unique brand of room service which has been delighting women of a certain age, for decades. A woman must always avail herself of room service at the Hotel Delice, it’s the hotel’s one truly unforgettable experience.’
‘Is this one of your jokes Henrietta?’
She winked suggestively. ‘Definitely not. I just want you to share in my delightful little find. Just never on any account, spill the beans.’ She clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything at all.’
Henrietta was insufferable. I had given up trying to analyse her ages ago. She had a flair for the dramatic and an extremely crude and filthy imagination.
When she left me, I sat in a chair for a moment. I really ought to have ordered some soothing champagne to relax me, as I could never sleep in a strange bed. Champagne was my one small concession in life.
So, I dialled room service.
When I opened the door, room service stepped inside. He was the most amazing man I had ever encountered, exuding such a potent sexual charisma he made my skin tingle. I stared mesmerised, into his acutely golden eyes which were already mentally undressing me. ‘You ordered champagne madam. Shall I uncork and pour?’
‘That would be nice?’ I watched him with interest as he opened the bottle with only the merest hint of a pop. ‘If you don’t mind me making an observation madam. You have exquisite hair. It reminds me of the colours of autumn, and your eyes are so intensely green.’
It was rather impertinent of room service to make such personal remarks but the flattery made me feel instantly warm. ‘Oh!’ I stretched up self-consciously, to touch my riot of red curls. ‘My brother calls my hair an explosion in a fireworks factory.’
His eyes roamed impudently over my face. ‘I can imagine if someone carefully lit your fuse, you’d explode very well yourself.’
I experienced a sharp intake of breath. ‘Goodness you’re daring for room service. Do you speak to all your clients like this?’
He shrugged. ‘Not all of them!’
I sipped the champagne. He was flirting with me.
‘You look rather tense.’ Stepping forward room service stroked a tendril of hair away from my cheek and then dug his fingers into the tight muscles around my shoulders.
‘Oh do I? How astute of you.’ I forced a watery smile. ‘I’m still a bit spun out from the flight. You see, I hate flying. However it’s an unnecessary evil in this day and age.’
‘You need to relax. You’re like a bundle of knotty string.’
‘And you’re rather cheeky.’
Room service shrugged. ‘I just say it, like it is. You’re also beautiful, that hair’s a potent aphrodisiac for me. I bet your snatch is the same fiery red?’
‘I ought to slap you. You’re so rude.’
‘All you have to do is say the word and I’ll leave. But I don’t think you really want me to.’ He raised an eyebrow
‘No don’t go yet.’ I heard myself say. ‘I’m curious. My friend tells me, the room service here, is second to none.’
‘Oh it is. I’m at your service and I aim to provide an unforgettable experience.’
‘Henrietta made the staff at this hotel sound so fabulously mysterious.’
‘There’s nothing mysterious about me, I can assure you. I’m just the straightforward room service boy.’
‘You seem very cultured.’ I insisted. ‘Couldn’t you find something better to do?’
‘Why find something better? This is the perfect job for me. I adore it and I’m an expert at it. I meet many fascinating women and I enjoy flattering them, making them feel good.’
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were an undercover gigolo.’
He laughed, shaking his head. ‘Oh I’m neither of those.’
One shirt button was open, exposing a smooth tanned chest. I couldn’t remember seeing that open button before. I was sexually attracted to him; it was hard not to be. He had that tousled easiness about him which was so appealing to my senses. He was the kind of man who would enjoy the outdoors. Yachting, horse back riding. He was a wild, untamed creature squeezed into a suit. Now that was fascinating. And he could easily draw you out. He reminded me of a good journalist I’d once met. I’d said I would not talk, yet before I knew it he had mesmerised me and the words tumbled. It is a gift to be able to do that and not many people have it. I felt a surge of eroticism race through me, a sexual torrent which moistened my sex.
‘I shouldn’t be keeping you talking room service, you must be busy.’
‘On the contrary.’ He poured me more champagne. ‘Drink up. The champagne makes your eyes sparkle.’
I sat down and unbuckling my shoes I began to massage my feet. ‘Here let me do that.’ Before I could stop him, he was kneeling with my feet on his lap and he was kneading them. The kneading felt very good. He was a magician in the use of thumb and finger. Instantly the rhythmical motions relaxed me and the tension ebbed from my shoulders and back. ‘I could run you a bath. You look tired?’
‘You have to be kidding.’
‘Not at all. I offer a unique and personal service. I’ll pull the drapes, turn down the bed and draw your bath. Whatever you wish? And the best part is. There’s no charge and I don’t accept tips or gratuities.
‘There must be a reward of some kind?’
‘Yes, yes there is.’ His eyes glittered. ‘I have the satisfaction of making a beautiful woman happy.’
I should have told him to leave but I could not. If you had met him yourself, you would know what I mean. I did not ask him to leave the room, because it seemed right that he was there. I later discovered all women felt the same about room service and that is why he had kept his job at the Delice for so many years. He was very special, and he had the unique gift of being able to extract the sex out of women. You could immediately fall in love with him and I could imagine him on my arm as the perfect companion. Flirtatious, gracious and indulgent, he made you feel as if you possessed a power over him, like you had some ingredient he desired. I could not for the life of me think what that ingredient was, but it made me feel as if I were the most desirable woman on the planet.
He strolled into the bathroom.
I watched him through the crack in the door, as he stirred the water with his hand, tested it for heat with his elbow, and added generous splashes of expensive oil, before laying out the fluffy white towels. ‘What’s your name?’ He said when he returned. ‘I cannot forever be thinking of you as Madame X.’
‘My name’s Carla and what’s yours?’
‘Just call me RS. Do you have a bath robe or a nightdress, Carla?’
I motioned towards the wardrobe. ‘Yes, inside there. I never wear a nightdress. I sleep nude.’ I studied his face to see if I had elicited a reaction, but his expression remained implacable. I was fascinated, wondering where all this sexual flirtatiousness would lead.
He brought me the robe and then he helped me to my feet. ‘Thank you.’ I said unsteadily.
‘You must have jet lag. I expect you’re tired?’
‘Yes very. I shall be going straight to bed after my bath, but I doubt I’ll sleep.’
‘I’ll make you a sandwich. I’ll go down to the kitchen this instant. ‘What would you like? Let me guess. Caviar, salmon?’ RS grinned.
‘You really are extraordinary. However there’s no need.’
‘There’s a great need.’ He replied, smiling at me as he clicked the door shut.
I sank into the bath water, allowing the warm comforting ocean to engulf me and soon I was drifting in a satisfyingly serene vacuum. I heard the door open and when I opened my eyes, RS was sitting on the side of the bath tub. ‘I brought your sandwich it’s in the other room. Do you want me to soap your back now?’
‘Do you always follow women into their bathrooms? Are you a pervert? Is this how you get your kicks?’
‘Of course not. I just enjoy providing an enhanced service.’
‘I see.’ I handed him the soap. I was enjoying the thought of his hands on my naked flesh. I closed my eyes as RS’s fingers explored my wet skin. He had wonderfully sensual hands, which followed each line and contour of my nakedness as if he were fashioning me out of clay. He kneaded the tenseness out of my neck with his knuckles and then he washed my hair, massaging my scalp with delicious circular movements. I awakened, my skin tingling with a million sensations, my nipples firming and my sex softening. He lathered his hands and impudently caressed my breast and I allowed him to. Then, taking a little of the soap on his finger he palpated and circled the swollen globe, moving closer and closer to my erect nipple, before pinching it between thumb and forefinger. I wanted to orgasm as the arousal from his touch ignited my sex, but I felt inhibited.
‘I’m ready to get out of the bath now.’ I stood up and he cloaked me in the towel, helping me out of the deep bath. I stumbled on the wet tiles, falling against him and he caught me and pulled me gently into his hips. Then, he gently rubbed my wet breasts and my back and dried the cleft between my buttocks, assiduously sliding the towel between the folds of my sex wet pussy. Finally he held up the robe.
‘I don’t need that.’ I said shortly, as in my curiosity I forgot my inhibition and began to wonder how far I could tease him and what the resolution to such protracted foreplay would be. Indeed I had forgotten everything now except how much I desired seduction. I decided I would like to drop the towel, and I did so. I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length wardrobe mirror, and I admit I looked splendid for a woman of a certain age. I was voluptuous, and when I unpinned my hair, it fell in a cascade around my shoulders. I posed, thrusting out my hips, I was being daring.
RS’s eyes were glistening with subdued hunger. He drew out a chair and shaking out a napkin and spreading it out on my lap he allowed his naughty fingers to graze my naked cunt.
‘Why don’t you join me? Sit down and have a spoonful of caviar. I won’t take no, for an answer.’ I flirted. ‘But first of all, why don’t you unbutton your shirt. Better still take it off. Would you mind doing that?’
RS loosened his tie and as he unfastened the remaining buttons of his shirt, his hair fell rakishly forward over his eyes.
‘No! Certainly not Carla. I’m at your service.’ He put mild emphasis on the word service before sitting down opposite me, buttering toast, adding caviar and feeding it to me. I opened my mouth and I obliged him by licking my lips and showing him my tongue. He wiped a dribble of butter from my chin as he studied my lips, open and inviting. The sex rippled off him in cascades of energy.
I wondered if it might be fun to provoke room service. ‘Oh dear, I think I just dropped my earring. It fell on the floor, and I can’t see it.’
Now he was on his hands and knees beneath the table. I was becoming increasingly daring and very naughty. I spread my legs, displaying my cunt. I knew he was looking at me since I could feel his warm breath disturbing my pubic hair. He was very close indeed and I shivered with delight. I then said. ‘Lick me.’
I continued to nibble the caviar as I felt his hands spread my legs further apart. He kissed my inner thighs and my sex all over, working his way towards my juicy slit with slow sensuous strokes and kisses until finally his finger and thumb parted the lips, and the mouth and tongue began to slide up and down my cleft, his teeth eventually fastening on my clitoris. I bit down hard on the toast as I muffled my moan. RS was now working his tongue around and around my sex, and I could feel my orgasm beginning to surge. I had to hold the arms of the chair when I came, it was so violent. So totally unexpected.’
He sat back down and he ran a hand through his tousled hair.
‘I think I’d like to go to bed now.’ I stood up abruptly. ‘Would you be so kind as to brush my hair?’
‘I’d love to brush your hair. What a pleasure.’
I sat on the bed, my legs wet with cunt juice and the aroma of warm heady sexual arousal emanating from me in sweet waves. RS sat beside me and I admired his firm musculature and the jutting ferocity of his cock pressing against his pants. He teased my hair, easing out the knots and I felt the excitement begin to rise again with each successive tug. I took my breast in my hand and as he brushed my hair, I massaged the nipple until it was firm and sensitive, then I caressed it, inciting my passion, forcing my orgasm. I had never experienced such pleasure, it kept ebbing and receding in deeper and more satisfying pulses. Finally he finished brushing my hair and he lifted it back from my shoulders. I placed my hand gently on his cock.
‘Service me.’ I commanded flirtatiously as I gazed into his eyes. ‘That’s what room service is all about, isn’t it? That’s the purpose of the game?’
He stood in front of me, and unzipping his pants out sprung his liberated penis. Whilst he let me fondle him, he carefully controlled his lust. He was the perfect slave.
I stroked the organ, admiring the plump girth and rippling sinuous length as I stroked the male essence from the bleeding stem. Gently I rubbed up and down the shaft, and sinking to my knees I took the pole between my teeth and I sucked it, as I fondled my clit. Room service stroked my hair and I felt the tensile promise of his climax. He did not move until I was satisfied.
My fantasy had always been to discover men and peel away the layers of them to reach the heart of their arousal, however usually men were too eager to be inside me. RS allowed me to explore all of him at my leisure. I slipped my finger into the tight constriction of his butt and he sighed as I drew him to the brink of ejaculation and then away again.
We played endless games of pleasure as I acted out my fantasies. I dribbled champagne between my thighs and he sucked each droplet away as I made him clean me with his tongue. Then I lowered myself onto him, spearing his cock inside me, on my terms. I wanted to cry out with the passion of it, the controlled thrusting deliciousness of it. He was the perfect lover, timing his orgasm to perfection as the penis rotated and thrust inside me. Using tongue and cock to take me to the very boundaries of ecstasy he wrapped me in the sheet and stroked my hair.
I awoke at three thirty am. and I really fancied hot milk. I was smiling coyly as I pressed the button on the phone.
‘Oh! Could I order some hot milk please?’ Room service had told me he was always available to oblige no matter what the time of day or night.
When he knocked on the door I said to him. ‘Don’t you get fed up with these calls at all hours?’
Grinning, RS reached once more, to unbutton his shirt. ‘Why Carla, I never tire of providing room service.’