My maid

The hotel room hums with that hush money buys. Cool linen on the bed, lamps throwing gold across the carpet. I strip, step under the shower just long enough to soap my cock and leave it half-hard, dripping. A towel slung low on my hips, I press the button for room service. Minutes later she knocks—soft, almost shy. When the door opens, her eyes drop right to the bulge, and she doesn’t look away.