A Fine Profession (The Chambermaid's Tales Part One) (40 page)

Nearly a year had passed and i
t was around this time that I decided I was ready to get back to work. I knew I would be better off working independently of the Lodge and certainly not for any other former clients, so I joined an online escort service in need of a specialist dominatrix. I bought myself a nice car and began travelling all over the region, or occasionally, to other counties nearby if the payday was big enough. I feared I may encounter an old acquaintance but I never did. Perhaps they wouldn't recognise me, anyway. In my guise as the Chambermaid I was two extremes, either bland housekeeper or outrageously-dressed temptress. In my new role, I was a watered-down, classically dressed lady who became fearsome if the men required it. Their desires were always communicated to me beforehand and it was so much easier. I detached myself completely and it merely became a job. I had graduated I felt, but there was still some way to go. I began squirreling the money away and planning my escape. I wanted to make a fresh start.

However, soon, I realised word had got out that I was working again. Somebody I had dealt with through the agency had perhaps put two and two together. I knew Noah was trailing me and that even a sniff of my existence would be cause enough for him to put somebody on the case of finding me. I just became more careful and used side entrances of hotels I travelled to, or even dressed li
ke the hotel worker I once was.

I had only been back in employment for a few weeks when I found myself travelling to
Thoresby Hall to meet a client. In my own clothes and style, I wandered through the hotel lobby toward the lifts. He was there at reception, checking in. I knew it was him. His voice was imprinted on me. Heat hit my cheeks. My heart raced instantly. I was stunted in my tracks. Careful not to draw attention to myself, I trailed off to plant myself in a window seat looking out onto the manicured grounds outside. I tried to lose myself in the topiary and lakes, but, alas, his very presence in the vicinity sent a bolting chasm through my insides.

Once I had taken this inconvenient interference within myself to task, I thought about a course of action. How to make this man pay for what he had done to me? My own Initiate. I needed to devise a way of making him suffer as much as possible.

I heard him heading towards the elevators. I watched his movement out of the corner of my eye. He had not seen me, I felt sure. When he was just about to step inside his carriage upwards, I leapt from my seat. I marched toward the doors of the lift. I saw him turn around to face forward after adjusting his luggage inside. He looked directly at me. The recognition was quick, he saw me, and smiled. The doors started shutting, me the other side still, and I mouthed
bastard
. He deserved only a brief snapshot of my visage, I had decided.

A hand, it lurched between the shutting doors and was almost crushed. He rapidly pressed his fingers into the rubber seals to undo the closure. He reeled from the pain, shaking his fist. Before I had time to react, he dragged me inside with his hand wrapped around my wrist. I yanked my hand from his grasp. The doors shut. We were alone and travelling northwards.

All I heard was the whisper of my name.

He looked pensive and pained, his eyes surveying me quickly, but warily. He looked down at the carpet and covered his mouth, trying to mute whatever words were causing him torment but might seem ridiculous if they were uttered.

Cody smelt so fresh and wonderful, recently-washed and wearing casual, figure-hugging clothes. He looked hurt, though.

His mouth was so inviting. Those seconds felt like hours as the tension zapped between us. I
had been so deprived and needed him so badly. I felt like the proverbial moth to a flame. He had a wide pair of lips that were luscious and full. I reached for his hand… taking his fingers between my own. His eyes, which in the light I saw were chocolate, looked into mine with hope. He moved toward me, his confidence growing, and I wrapped both of my hands around his tightly.

“
I never forgot you,” he said, hoarse, as though something was caught in his throat.

His skin was pink and clammy.
When he stood right before me, I lifted my chin, and his face dipped to meet my mouth. It was a chaste kiss, the tissue of our lips lightly meshing so we could get a sense of one another before the inevitable fraught, mindless devouring of lips, tongue and skin. He pulled back, we paused, and he reached a hand to my cheek to steady me. He kept his eyes focused on me, planting his lips on mine so softly, so reverentially, tasting me, sampling me, reassuring himself it was me. I pulled back instead.

“
The kisses were hard to get over,” I admitted, while he thumbed my cheeks.

I wrapped my arms around his waist. The lift reached his floor, the doors opened to an empty expanse, but we didn't get out. The elevator shut but remained static, not needed on any other floor.

“Cody.”

“
You're even nicer than I remember.”

I wore no make-up but knew close up, I looked fresh and young in my own skin, vibrant and healthy, given my diet and lack of vices. In his eyes, I saw his fervour and it entranced me. It was genuine.

I reached one hand behind his neck, tantalised by his masculine structure. He wore a brown leather biker jacket, heavy, and battered. It was teamed with a plain t-shirt and 507s, plus thick industrial-style boots, black leather and brown fur, laces loose.

“
You're still sexy. And a footballer…”

He groaned out a
yes
. His deep, guttural, Lincolnshire voice sent shivers down my spine. Others might have heard him speak, I heard him sing with one whisper, and even a murmur from him was communicating volumes to me and only me. I decided his effect on me was singular. Nobody else could decipher him as well as I. His voice was hesitant, soft, calm, but only with me.

I reached up and enveloped his top lip, which was plump enough to make my mouth feel full. I sucked gently, barely, and groaned. I did the same with his bottom lip. I kissed the corner of his mouth, then the other one, and licked my way inside tentatively. His arms wrapped tightly behind me and he relaxed. He pulled away to break my control, deciding to exert his own will. He placed his mouth forcefully against mine and pushed it open, not daring to break for a moment, French kissing me dutifully, passionately, slowly. With a bite from me through his bottom lip, we started running our hands all over one another furiously. His backside was small but toned, his waist slim but defined and his entire being quaking with the anticipation of meeting mine. I searched for the skin of his back. We toppled almost, with our frantic pressing and searching dragging us to and fro, until his hands surrounded my buttocks, lifting me up against the wall. I wrapped my legs around him tightly.

I murmured, “Tell me this is real,” as he massaged my throat with his devoted, expertly arousing mouth.

He said nothing. His response was to pull the zip down on my cotton jacket and push his mouth into my white cotton shirt. He pressed both palms against my breasts and grunted loudly, gutturally.

“Charlotte, honey, I've never wanted anyone this much.”

I dragged his head up to remind him that his kisses were still required at my mouth. With me still forced against the lift wall, unable to shift an inch, he held me there. He knew that with an open-eye kiss, I was putty in his hands. But he bestowed the most deli
cate of kisses on my cheek.

“
You are beautiful. All those years ago, you did something to me.”

Though my entire being hummed with desire and anticipation, I stared at him questioningly. I still did not believe his passion was honourable. Some part of me required
vengeance. I also needed to qualify what had happened to me over the past few years, all because of that one afternoon where he had forced me to realise I should seek more from life. Another part of me simply wanted to feel like the girl I once was, before life had taken me and shaped me into the weary lover I had become.

“
Can we take this to my room?”

“
In a minute,” I said.

Whatever his feeling, I was going to have my fun. I released myself from his grip forcefully. I pressed the emergency stop button, even though we were still stationary. I knew that would give us a few minutes more privacy. I reached a hand under my skirt and pulled my panties down and off with a finger. I threw them to one side.

“Lay down on the floor,” I told him. I was almost in Chambermaid mode, but no, some semblance of me remained. This was definitely what I wanted.

He hesitated, but I warned,
“Do it.”

He lay down beside his suitcase, a small travel-friendly device for short stopovers.

“Charlotte, what are you…?”

“
Shush, wait,” I said.

I waited for him to lie down. I saw his cock semi-erect in his jea
ns. I wanted him inside my cunt: my steaming, hot, dripping lips. Instead, I fell on my knees, before him, and slowly shifted my skirt up. He saw my bald, shaven pubis and took a sharp intake of breath.

He desperately wanted to know what I wanted from him. I could tell he also needed to put his hands and mouth all over me as quickly as I would allow him to.

“Hold your index finger out in front of me,” I said, and he immediately did.

I moved to meet his digit and began grinding against his finger, pressing my clit toward his closely cut nail with vigour.

“Just hold it there,” I told him, softly panting and moaning. I told him, “I'm so wet for you. Oh baby.”

I was sopping. I was desperately in need of penetration to take the edge off my exquisite agony. The slip-sloshing sound of his finger sliding in and out of me as I moved on top of his digit was becoming unbearable for him. He bit his lip and my eyes widened as I watched his hand reach for his crotch. His phallus must have been aching. I grunted to signify my approval.

“Cody, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, stay there, stay there,” I asserted.

He watched with rapture, grunting and working himself up.

“Nobody makes me wetter.”

“
Charlotte, you feel amazing, just use me,” he groaned, his cock now raging in those jeans.

I undid the top two buttons on my shirt, slipping one breast out of my bra so he could see. He groaned loudly. I lifted a nipple to my mouth.

“You fucking hot bitch,” he moaned, before wondering whether he had stepped out of line.

I thrust against his finger harder, baiting him to fight back.

“Dirty bastard,” I groaned, “fucking cunt fucker, give me two fingers,” I demanded, and he immediately gave me another.

“
Three,” I advised, and he provided more to work with. He nodded and watched in rapture.

I was shaking, trembling, staving off my orgasm with all my energies. I was riding a wave of all-consuming ecstasy. Nothing made the end result better than having the control taken right out of my hands. With my eyes closed, I
managed to utter seductively, “Eat my pussy, baby.”

My eyes were still closed as I fought my own desire harder than ever before. My pussy muscles were sponge cakes threatening to cave in if the cooker door broke open. All I felt was him drag me toward him so that I might crouch rig
ht over his face. I positioned my legs either side of his shoulders, spreading myself wide.

“
Slow,” I told him, “slow,” before his mouth touched me. I sucked back all my urges to concentrate hard as his mouth, Cody's beautiful mouth, touched me where I pissed from, where I gained most pleasure from, and where response came freely when it came to him.

“
Oh darling, yes, just like that, just like that, use all that tongue baby, oh baby, your tongue, it's mine now, mine.”

I unbuttoned the shirt fully, pulled the other breast out, and rubbed them. My nakedness before him, alone, aroused me. My sexual appetite and brassiness aroused him. His technique was good. He licked and sucked intermittently, enjoying me. He swallowed regular mouthfuls of my flowing lubrication.

“Cody, oh god, the lift,” I warned. We had started moving. The override had come into play. He knew what had to be done.

He grabbed my buttocks tightly, pulling me toward his mouth, and licked furiously and rampantly. I screamed and screeched and winced and moaned, and lost myself, awaking with my belly on fire and his breathless face having been covered by my severely wetted groin.

When the lift doors opened to an audience, I had miraculously found time to stand up, pull my skirt down and my jacket shut. His arms swaddled me protectively, kissing me once more intently. We glanced at the onlookers, who were too embarrassed to join us or tell us to stop holding up their day. My ruddy cheeks possibly told them more than they needed to know. He pressed the lift button, we began ascending once more, with his mouth planting delicate, loving kisses all across mine. It was wonderful.

He led me towards his room and we fell inside. The next thing I knew, we were locked in an embrace, fighting each other, demonstrating our own
prowess.