The Bellboy Gets It - Sex Stories

The Bellboy Gets It

... want all the dresses, blouses, skirts and pants on hangers. The sweaters nicely folded in a drawer. Panties and bras in separate drawers. Do you think you can you handle that?’ ‘Sure Madam. Don’t you worry, it’s all under control.’ ‘Good. I’m going to Saks down on Fifth. Be back in an hour and I’ll expect everything to be in order. Understood?’ ‘Yes Madam.’ ‘Good. Here, this is for toting my bags.’ There’s a folded twenty dollar bill in her hand. Before I can reach for it, it slips from her fingers and drops to the floor. I squat down to pick it up, but when I straighten up again I feel my face slide into something soft and warm. I fall back landing on my ass. Looking up, Mrs. Flanagan is standing above me. There’s a strange dent in the crotch of her white tights and I realize I just had my nose up her cunt crack. ‘Damn, watch out, you idiot.’ I could swear she stepped closer when I went down to pick up the bill. ‘I-I’m sorry Madam. I didn’t realize…’ ‘Well, be careful the next time. You could’ve hurt me.’ She straightens out the front of her tights, but all she accomplishes is pulling the seam of her tights further into her pussy, which leaves her cuntlips outlined in the crotch. Either she doesn’t notice or she doesn’t care; she grabs her coat and strides out. I’m left alone with her suitcases. I start on the first, which holds mostly dresses and blouses, as does the second one. The third and fourth are skirts and pants. There are three large suitcases with coats, two ...

... with shoes and boots, and two smaller ones with lotions, perfumes, skin creams, day creams, night creams, facial scrubs, lipstick, eye shadow, make-up and a case with jewelry. The last suitcase holds the long awaited prize. More than the tips, it is this that keeps us bell boys happy in an otherwise dreadful and unrewarding job: female underwear. The silk, the lace, the soft colours, the smells. There are few pleasures more delicate and awe-inspiring, than passing the padded silk crotch of a pair of female briefs over your nose and lips, knowing a woman’s cunt has nested in that exact spot and exuded its peculiar fluids and aromas. Part III ‘What are you doing?’ Mrs. Flanagan is standing in the doorway, an assortment of large coloured bags in each hand. I peel the pair of black lacy panties from my face and try to apologize, but find myself unable to utter any sound at all. ‘Have you no respect at all?’ ‘I-I… I’m sorry. I was just… I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to… ‘ ‘You didn’t mean to? What do you mean you didn’t mean to? My underwear just sort of sprang out of the suitcase and landed on your face?’ ‘No, no. I mean…’ ‘First you ram your nose up my crotch, and now I find you sniffing my underwear. There is something seriously wrong with you, pal. I shall have to report you to the hotel manager.’ Despite the harsh words, there is a strange smile on her lips. It is the same amused smile she had down in the lobby when she gave me the once-over. ‘Oh no, Mrs. Flanagan, please, it won’t ...