Ms. Jones and the Bellhop

I open my eyes, the final shivers of my second orgasm subsiding. He's thrusting above me with abandon as I study his body. I wrap my legs tighter around his legs and back, pulling him in as he grunts and groans. His pace quickens and I whisper to him, "Yes, cum for me baby," soon he is moaning loudly, pushing deeply inside me, filling me up. He collapses forward and I kiss his neck, my hands rubbing up and down his body.

"That was great," I whisper to him "Why don't you go and get cleaned up." He grunts something in reply and heads to the hotel room bathroom. I flip on the bedside light and quickly get dressed, sliding into my black silk panties, my gray pencil skirt, and putting on my matching jacket. I toss my blouse and bra into my bag and start to look for my souvenir. I have everything I want except for my pair of underwear. Not mine really, but his which I'm going to take with me. I know it may sound strange but I like to keep a souvenir of each of my conquests. Ok, that sounds a little over the top. Substitute sexual partners, playthings, nameless cocks, whatever you like. Why? Oh, that's a simple, complicated story.

The simple is that I don't believe you can trust men, and I have a long history of being proven right. My father left before I was old enough to even know him. My mother then went through a long string of men for months, sometimes years, who would help to support her financially but with no skills and no career she was basically at their mercy. I was determined to 1. Never get into that kind of financial situation 2. Never let myself get hurt like that. It always seemed like a surprise to her that they might leave, but it was never surprising to me.

So my adult life has been in pursuit of financial success and independence. I got a degree in biology from a major college on a full ride. My plan was to go to med school and become a physician, for the money, not because I was a born healer or cared about people. It almost makes me sad to say that I care very little for others, but I guess I was missing that part of my upbringing.

One day I ran across an ad for pharmaceutical sales and it sounded ideal. Biology majors wanted lots of travel, salary and stock options. I'm an attractive, bright young woman and I got the job, so now most of my weeks are spent traveling around, extolling the benefits of our many drugs to physicians, office managers, purchasing managers, etc.

My name? Well, I don't like to say. What would you think my name is? Just guess. I'll describe myself if that helps. I'm 26, 5'4, black hair down past my shoulders, blue/green eyes, 32c/24/28, and practice yoga regularly in my hotel room or the occasional class.

Finally after tossing all of the sheets back onto the bed I find what I was looking for: tighty whities. I'm not surprised that this 40something purchasing manager for some boring company has boring underwear. I put them into my large purse and make my way to the hotel room door, hearing the shower turn off as I step out into the hallway.

I push the button for 27, and step on to the elevator, not noticing the young pale white room service guy with the cart. Remembering that my bra and blouse are in my bag I connect quickly that he must have gotten a good eye full as I got on the elevator.

I smile at him. "Busy night?"

"Not really ma'am," he replies with his voice cracking.

"Going to state?" I ask him, the university nearby.

"Yes ma'am, how did you know?"

"I had to work to put myself through school too. It just kinda shows on a person." I say to him.

The elevator stops and I see it is my floor. I start to walk off. I turn and hold the door. "Stephen," I say, looking at his name tag. "Can you stop by 2714 on your way back down?"

"If you need something you can dial zero anytime ma'am." He replies politely.

I laugh lightly. "Thanks, I will keep that in mind. I thought you, just you, might be able to help me with something. 2714 if you're interested." I let the doors close and walk to my room. Inside my room I tuck my new prize of the purchasing manager's briefs into the outside pocket of my rollaboard bag. I take off my skirt, clipping it meticulously onto the hangar, placing my coat above it. I put the blouse into the laundry bag in the closet, and clip my black lace bra on in case Stephen makes his way to my room.

I check the time- 9pm. I flip on the news and open my laptop, pausing to admire myself in the reflection. I am proud of my physical appearance and think I could have been a model if I wasn't so short. "You make the most of what you have," I remember my favorite high school teacher saying over and over, and I smile feeling like I have.

Knock, knock, "Room service," I hear. I smile wide, flipping the laptop closed. I slip my heels back on to complete the fantasy. I answer the door in my black lace bra, panties, and black patent leather heels. "Hello Stephen, glad you stopped by." I turn and walk into the room, leaving him to close the door. I sit on the small sofa in my junior suite.

He walks in nervously, like he doesn't have permission. "Should, um, should I come in ma'am?"

"Yes. Come and sit here on the sofa."

He walks in and sits, looking around, like he's waiting for a manager to come in or a camera crew to surprise him. He does take every chance he feels he can to sneak a glance at my chest and body, though.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Y-yes ma'am. I think you're gorgeous." He says, in a full blush.

I'm a little afraid his head might explode with my next question but I ask it anyway. "Do you want to fuck me?" I watch him intently. His face contorts into a wide smile then fear then nerves.

"Ma'am I could get fired."

"Good point." I say. I pick up the phone and dial zero. "Hi, Ms Jones in 2417 (I always use Jones for hotels in case you thought it was my real name). I met Stephen from room service in the elevator and he's going to help me with something for the next 15 minutes. Is that alright?" Ms Jones may not be my real name but she does have top tier status in the loyalty program. I watch Stephen's cock grow in his baggy hotel uniform and his eyes wander all over my body.

"Thank you very much." I say and hang up the phone.

"Now do you want to fuck me?" I ask him.

Sweet Stephen can only nod at this point.

"Good." I say. "Get naked and lie down on the bed please. "

He stands up and strips furiously. I love college boys, they're always so eager and they follow directions so well. He lies down naked, his cock standing straight up. I slowly unclip my bra and slide it to the floor while he stares wide eyed. I slide off my panties next and crawl over him on the bed.

I wrap my hand around his cock which is quite nice, and I smile..."You're gonna feel good inside me," I tell Stephen. I slide onto his cock as he closes his eyes and rolls his eyes back and moans. I put my hands on his chest and push further down onto him, spreading my knees out a bit before I start to ride him up and down slowly.

"Fuck this is amazing...and you are so pretty," he tells me. I think to myself that he'd marry me if I asked him right this moment.

I smile. "That's sweet Stephen," I tell him, and I start to fuck him harder...bouncing more forcefully. I watch him as he stares at my tits bouncing up and down. I take his hands and bring them to my chest, letting him feel and squeeze me as I fuck him.

"This is amazing Ms Jones but I'm afraid I'm not going to last very long," Stephen tells me, looking up at me with his big doe eyes.

"That's ok baby," I tell him. "Do you want to cum on my tits? You seem to like them a lot."

He just grunts and closes his eyes. "You are like a porno movie Ms. Jones. Are you a porn star?" he asks me with sincerity.

I just laugh. "No dear I just like to fuck. Tell me when you need me to get off of you." I continue fucking him...faster...watching his face, his eyebrows, watching him struggle to hold back his orgasm.

"Oh...fuck...Ms...Jones...ughn...I want to fuck you all night but you're gonna make me cum!" he squeals, half screaming at me.

I roll off of him, kneeling on the bed. "Come stand over here on the bed and jerk off; point at my tits. Think you can do that for me Stephen?" In a flash he's standing in front of me, stroking his cock so quickly I think he might break it. A few more strokes and he grunts out in a deep primal moan and begins to spray his cum all over my tits. It's an impressive amount, as I watch him give me 3 full spurts and another half. I love the warm feeling as it begins to drip down between them. I look down, impressed at his efforts on my behalf, then I smile up at him.

He finally brings his head around and sees my smile, and then looks at his painting work on my chest. "Oh fuck Ms. Jones, I'm so sorry. I'll- I'll get some towels he says, but before he can move I have his cock in my mouth, groaning, as he gives me his final tastes. "Ooh fuck...that's amazing...I'm so sorry I didn't last longer I wanted to make you cum so badly ma'am."

I laugh and pull his cock out of my mouth. "Look, don't worry about it, it was fun and I'll always remember it I say with a smile. Go clean up and I'll hop right in the shower when you leave."

He ducks into the bathroom and I stand up, quickly finding his bell man top and his nametag. I slide the magnet off and put it in my purse as he's coming back out. He gets his clothes and gets dressed as quickly as he got undressed. I stand naked, covered in his cum, making him feel as nervous and uncomfortable as I can, while I just smile. He comes to stand in front of me. "So can I call you Ms. Jones? Or take you out to dinner next time you're in town?" he asks.

I laugh quickly and then just smile. I put my hand on his face. "Sweet Stephen, I was just looking for a fuck, not a friend. But you have a magnificent cock. You should know that. Don't let any of those stuck-up sorority bitches at school get you down. You get one of them in bed and they'll be back for more. I don't give out my number, but if I like a guy they can get this card. Email me, let me know you're thinking about me, fantasizing about me, and maybe we will connect again next time I'm in town." I bend over and get a special card from a special case in my purse and hand it to him. It has no name, just a private email address I monitor from time to time.

"I will email you tonight. Thank you Ms. Jones. I'll always remember this," he says, as he turns to walk out of the room.

I head to the shower and turn on the hot water, stepping in to wash his cum off of my chest. I take one taste with my finger and let the rest run off, feeling proud, full, and powerful...