505 was a number that would stay lodged in Annabel's mind for a long time to come, for that was the number of the hotel room where she first learnt the joy of pissing in new and naughty places, an act that saw her liberated from an otherwise mundane sexual existence.
It was the smell of expensive perfume that caught her attention as the woman walked past. Annabel had been too engrossed in pushing her cleaning trolley along the plush corridor carpet that had seen her eyes averted from the hotel guest. With an impulsive reflex action she turned her head to spy the identity of the woman who had just passed, a fleeting means to attempt to guess at the kind of lifestyle that others could enjoy but not her.
The departing guest was a slim lady of obvious Asian descent, tall and with trailing radiant black hair that fell as a curtain around her cream coloured blouse, a fact that drew Annabel's gaze to the woman's perfectly formed posterior, her shapely buttocks perfectly outlined by the tight press of her grey business trousers. The trolley came to a juddering halt as Annabel's wandering attention saw her aim drift. The rattle of cleaning utensils and assorted sanitizing products was extraordinarily loud in the corridor causing the departing woman to momentarily turn and catch the maid's eye. This was a quick flash of a warm smile, something that spoke of more than just a friendly exchange. Annabel could not but help but quickly track down the woman's blouse to where the shapely press of her contained breasts bulged against the tight surface. Her nipples were hard! Annabel quickly glanced away, embarrassment bringing a flush to her cheeks. She was not normally aroused by other women but the guest from 505 was a rare beauty and one not too aloof to ordain to notice mere cleaning staff.
Annabel took charge of her misguided cart, tugging it away from the wall. She was too afraid to look back to see if the woman was still staring, half scared that she might be and what such a look might entail. The soft sound of departing footfalls spoke otherwise, the hotel guest returning to her path towards the hotel lift. With a deep sigh that contained so many pent up frustrations, the young maid swiped her card past the lock and entered into room 505.
As the lights flickered on Annabel caught sight of herself in the hallway's full length mirror. She was plain of feature yet with a homeliness that could catch men's eyes; that and the ample size of her full bosom. To further her embarrassment from the hallway she was shocked to discover that the press of her own excited nipples was quite obvious through both her bra and the thin white cotton of her hotel working wear. Shaking her short blond hair in a sway of negativity she refused to allow herself to be drawn into a fantasy whereby she and the beautiful guest rolled in naked tandem across the sweaty bed sheets, nipple to nipple as they kissed and caressed with eager tongues, the warm wetness between their legs supple temptation to questing fingers...
Annabel entered the main room. Whoever she was, the guest was tidy in the extreme. All visible personal belongings were stacked neatly on the nearby dresser; her singular suitcase sealed and pushed up flat against the one wall. Even the bed was half made, the sheets pulled tight and pillows pumped back into shape. Without conscious thought Annabel found herself abandoning her charge of cleaning apparatus and moving to where a silky red nightdress had been carefully folded on the drawer beside the bed. She picked it up and tentatively moved it to her nose. It smelt of petals!
Quickly returning the nightwear back where she had found it, Annabel found that her hands were shaking. The unmade bed looked so wonderfully inviting, more so for it having played host to the deliciously supple form of the absent Asian guest. Annabel shook her head again. What was she thinking? One thing was certain; her encounter with the woman in the hallway had left her horny as hell, a fact most likely attributable to the highly expensive perfume she had been wearing. On a sudden impulse Annabel looked around seeking out the bottle and thus a means to identify the mysterious intoxicating aroma. It was then that she first noticed the chair!
Each hotel room featured a king-sized bed, a desk and writing chair, table and lamp, mini-bar, TV and finally a plush sitting chair for relaxing in one corner. It was this that held Annabel's attention. Given the alluring guest's attention to neatness it was a most obvious feature that the seating cushion was not firmly pushed back as though it had recently been withdrawn. It was almost as if it had been left it such a way to prompt investigation by any entering the room...
Intrigued, Annabel crossed over to the offending item. Her first instinct as a maid was to push it back into place and resume her duties. However, a little voice in her head said otherwise. Gingerly she reached out and took hold of the cushion opposing edges. With a sharp pull she yanked it free. Disappointment was her reward for nothing untoward had been revealed. Sighing at her overworked imagination Annabel made to return the large cushioned seat. With a reflex action she spun it around, seeing to offer its previously unused surface for future use.
She froze with surprise. A long and very damp stain marked the cushion, widening outwards from what had been the base. Her immediate thought was that the pristine guest had spilt her drink and had been too embarrassed to leave the evidence on display yet all her experience as a maid told Annabel that this was not the case. Her hormones were racing with flushed excitement as she began to guess at the nature of the stain. It was not an unheard of experience for guests to occasionally relieve themselves in unorthodox locations around a hotel room. Never however would Annabel have attributed such an urging to a woman as beautiful as the departed guest.
She pushed the cushion home, damp stain exposed for the entire world to witness. She could not help but visualise the act, the motions the woman had taken to carry out her extremely naughty toilet -- the descent of those grey trousers along exotically tanned legs, the following pursuit of an extremely thin thong, moving from around those perfectly formed and wonderfully round bum cheeks and the exposure of the woman's trimmed pubic hair, as midnight black as that perfect mane of head hair. Annabel's imagination raced on. Without realising it she had pressed one hand to the groove between her legs, where her covered pussy was moist with excitement.