For the rest of that night, I was in a bit of a dwam. In the immediate aftermath, I hurried into the nearest employees' privy to gather myself, splashing some cold water onto my face to rinse off the fluids and doing my best to clean up my uniform. I still had to finish out my shift.
When I returned to the lobby, my coworker, Angela, was at the front desk. As I approached her, she gave me an odd look and asked me, "Are you alright?"
"Yes...why?" I replied haltingly.
"You seem distracted."
"Oh, I just have a lot on my mind, I guess," I lied. It wasn't a complete fib. I was having a hard time concentrating on work because I was still reeling from what had just happened to me.
"Okay," Angela nodded sympathetically. She's a nice girl, and rather pretty, too--I liked her a lot. "You have a stain on your shirt, by the way," she pointed out.
I looked down at my uniform. There, in the chest area, was an off-white splotch. I'd missed it when I was cleaning myself up earlier, and I knew exactly what it was.
"It must be from the snack I had earlier," I said, avoiding eye contact with her. It was the only plausible story I could think of right at that moment. I prayed inwardly that she wouldn't think too much about it.
"Oh...okay." Angela said. She still had a strange expression on her face, but she thankfully decided not to pry.
I took the lull in our conversation as a chance to walk away before she decided to inquire any further. I headed into the porters' office; luckily, nobody else was inside, as it was getting to be late at night already. I shut the door behind me, sank into the couch at the far end of the room, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
My brain was swimming. I had so many thoughts and I couldn't focus on any of them. I think I was experiencing a little bit of shell shock. I tried to calm myself down. To recollect myself, I had to start somewhere. I decided to try with the beginning.
It had been a routine evening until I noticed that that door at the end of the hallway was ajar. When I went to investigate, that's when I saw the serviceman all but nude. Should I have stayed away? Yet, as an employee of this hotel and being the only one there at the time, responsibility would have fallen on me by default to check on any door left open, and I couldn't have known that there would've been a naked man inside. Then, when he asked for my assistance, should I have said no? But, I work here, and it's my job to make sure our guests' needs are met. It was reasonable for me to accede. There was no way that I could have predicted what was going to happen next.
My head was starting to throb. I rubbed my eyes and tried to think.
I realized that I was having a hard time coming to terms with what happened with the serviceman. I could rationalize the events leading up to what I did with him, but it's the actual...activity itself that disquieted me. Was I interested in men? I'd never before touched a man in that way, I'd never thought I would debase myself for a male, but in one fell swoop all of that happened in less than an hour.
What really perturbed me was how easily it came to me. When he ordered me to service him, it was so easy for me to obey him.
I felt exhausted. My body was so tired. I didn't want to think about it anymore--I just wanted to go home and crawl into my bed.
I completed the remainder of my shift that night quietly, avoiding everyone.
A fortnight went by and I slowly returned to normal. I was nervous at first because I worried that someone would find out what had taken place, but that faded away as the days passed. It was an impossibility. We don't have security cameras installed in the guests' rooms, and the hallway cameras would have only caught me entering and leaving his room, looking disheveled as I exited. However, even that could be explained as physical exertion from assisting the guest, and it was all moot, anyways, because I know the employees that monitor the cameras. I know they don't review the footage unless there's a reason to do so.
A few nights after that, I happened to be passing through the lobby when Angela, whose shift again coincided with mine that evening, called me over.
"One of the rooms asked for your help," she informed me. "Could you go assist them? They're in 106."
"Okay," I assented. "Do you know what they need?"
She shook her head. "No, they didn't say. They just asked if you could please head over as soon as possible."
"Alright. I'll go there now," I said. I left her behind and made my way over.
