Floored - Sex Stories

Floored

Kathryn worked through the crowd in the hotel lobby, berating herself for staying until the end of the last conference session of the day.How on earth have I ended up working in the security industry? Why come to another conference that bores me stupid?

Kathryn often felt frustrated at failing to find a career that motivated her. She pushed towards the lifts to rescue at least some time for dealing with the afternoon’s inevitable onslaught of emails, emails she mostly found tedious or pointless that nevertheless required a response.

The lift lobby heaved. With a determination lacking in those shuffling along in various cookie-cutter conversations, Kathryn made it to a lift. A crush of delegates pinned her against the lift wall. She could see very little and felt compelled to hold her breath; Kathryn was sure the stench of aftershave, perfume and booze would otherwise be nauseating. She reached her floor, desperate to escape.

Kathryn gasped the air in the corridor as though emerging from a deep dive. Striding to her room, she pirouetted around a couple who’d disembarked ahead.

The corridor was as cookie-cutter as the conversations in the hotel lift, but at least her room was easy to find: the penultimate door on the right-hand side, just before the sharp turn. She arrived at her door with her key card at the ready.

Something was odd. Kathryn stared at the lock. Her door was slightly ajar, resting on its catch. She bristled. ‘Bloody cleaners!’ She’d noticed ...

... that the cleaners had a habit of hooking do-not-disturb signs over the catches to stop the fierce door closers from shutting the doors entirely, enabling them to dip between the rooms and their cleaning carts in the corridor. Efficient, perhaps, but they tended to drag the cards out at the end of a clean, scratching them and, it now appeared, shutting the doors so gently in the process that the locks didn’t always engage.

Kathryn pushed inside, irritated that her next call would be a complaint to housekeeping. The door slammed shut behind her.

Kathryn stopped in her tracks.

Her room was oddly uncluttered. Her things were gone.What the?! On the luggage stand was an expensive aluminium rolling suitcase. Not hers, sadly.

She’d barely had time to focus when she heard a key card slide into the door behind her. She spun around.

A man stepped into the room, tall, broad-shouldered, handsome, and with a face that was rapidly transforming from bemused to angry.

‘What on earth! Now, look: if you’re from the hotel, I made it plain I was to vet ALL staff that would be servicing my room. I paid extra for that assurance, so YOU will tell me what on earth you’re doing here when I didn’t vet YOU!’

Before Kathryn could answer, his eyes jumped to the conference badge she’d tucked behind a well-placed scarf – a ruse which made it easier to avoid those cookie-cutter conversations. He plucked the badge free, scanning his eyes across it forensically.

‘You work for Christopher ...