Room 315

"Room 315," he said, "there is some problem with the TV."

I chuckled.

If this is an excuse for me to get me to leave the front desk, then well, he hit the nail on the head.

"Ok, I'll be right up."

He isn't the first but more like the fifth guy who had come up with some imaginary problem in their room, just to get me to go up there and "talk" to them. Room 315 was a bit different, especially since this wasn't the first time that there had been issues in the room. I let Trisha know that 315 was having some issues with their TV and they wanted me to go check. She sucked her teeth and huffed.

Bitch.

May 19th was when I had decided to quit a job that was selling pointless landline phones plans, to explore the realm of Hotel Management. The interview wasn't a standard interview. There was no "what are your strength and weakness?" It was along the lines of: "Front Desk Clerk. Your responsibilities are a. b. and c." In a small town of Clearfield, I supposed the mannerism of job inquiry had died, along with the need for racial integration. The start of the job was great. Learning how to check people in, swiping credit cards, assigning long term guest to rooms that they had previously stayed in was all exciting, however, it was nothing stimulating about the job at the time.

"We are amazed how quickly you can pick up on this, it took some months to get the hang of it," the manager said.

Out of the many boring hotel nightshifts, and seeing the finest quality of people that America had to offer, who happened to stop in the center of the Commonwealth; a very fine man came in and made me sit up straight at the desk. His smile shone brightly as though he entered the hotel a movie star. The doors swinging open and a wind blowing through his deep conditioned brown hair.

"Y'all have any rooms?"

Forearms, dirty. Hands, gritty. Face, immaculate. A country drawl escaped his lips. I stared blankly at him, my mind had disappeared for what felt like days.

"Miss?" he said, snapping out of my stare

"Uh, Yes?"

"Y'all have any rooms?" he asked

"Let me see what I can do for you?" I said, typing in the information he had given me.

"We've been working all day in State College, and many hotels are booked so I hope y'all can help."

It was as though every syllable of his sentence was laced with honey. Mouth-watering. I was rattling off prices, and room options to him, my professionalism had gone out of the door, and flirting had come into play. Always being a willing player, however, it had always got me in trouble. With myself and my selfish desires.

"I see y'all work so hard, a nice massage would do you some good."

He cracked a smile, "are you gonna give me?"

"Would you like for me to?"

He came over the counter and said quietly, without Trisha supersonic hearing in the area.

"There are a lot of things I want you to do?"

I was melting...fast.

"Well. Like I said, if you have any questions or concerns, please let me know." I said, keeping my now changed composure.

"315?"

"Yes, It is on the third floor, it is a Jacuzzi suite."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, just let us know if you need help with starting the jets."

"Mmmmhmmm, absolutely Miss Jade. Ya'll have a great night, ya hear."

I smiled so hard, my face could have potentially cracked, and there caused a tsunami in Australia. I looked up at the clock, 8:30. Jesus! I had two and a half hours of the shift left. I needed to keep busy, though the efforts were changing, as an old woman had complained about the pool being too hot.

"The little pool," they said over the phone

"It's supposed to be, it's the hot tub." Looking at the next day arrivals, the front desk phone rings.

"Jade speaking, how can I help you?"

"It's Kelton, in 315, my TV isn't working, can you come up?"

"I will be right up."

My heart started to beat rapid as I entered the elevator. Anxiety-ridden, it seemed that there were issues always happening on the third floor. Whether the TV's weren't working, or the vending machine was out of Munchos. Thankfully, it was the leeway I needed, as I knocked on his door, which was cracked.

"Front Desk."

"Yeah, come in, Miss Jade."

"How did you know it was me?" closing the door behind me.

"Because of your voice."

"Ah, yep so your TV?" I asked, realizing that his TV was on.

"The TV is fine, just wanted to get you up here."

"You lied."

He came out of the bathroom in a towel. Seeing his broad pectoralis muscles, and little hair on his chest, my lungs forgot to inhale, and I chocked.

"You didn't want to be behind that desk, did you?" he asked

"No, not really," I sat on his king-sized bed, "tell me where you are from?"

"Originally, Texas, but I moved to South Carolina at five, and been working the rigs for about seven years now."

He told me the stories about working on the riges, in which, I didn't have any idea what they were. I'm from the city, "rigs" were not in my vocabulary as a possible reference of occupation.

"Is that what they call pipe-liners?"

'Sort of," he said as he further explained his job title, however, I didn't care. I couldn't care. I was sitting in the room with a man and all I wanted to do was to rip his clothes off.

"Wow, well, I got to be going."

"So soon?"

"Yeah," I started to head to the door, "Trisha might need me."

I felt his mint breath on my neck as I tried to open the door, with little effort.

"Just stay five minutes," he said, holding his strong hand against the door.

I turned around, looked up into his tired grey eyes and it was as though my mouth had a mind of its own.

"Okay."

"I just wanna kiss you, Miss Jade."

Please, let it be my imagination. Or my hormones translating his sentence into something my ears wanted to hear.

"What are you waiting for?"

His lips were gentle, a preview into his love-making technique. I had imagined that he would hold me close. I would be a precious commodity to him, as we would make love until the sun would rise. He would respond to my body like it hasn't be answered in years. He was someone who held romance close to him however this was not me.

We didn't lose our lip embrace, as we walked without looking to his bed. Oh god, this is not happening. Thoughts of me getting caught, or being in his room too long that Trisha would come up to see what was going on had begun to arise. Paranoia had created imaginary situations that caused my heart to beat faster. The owners of the hotel would look at the camera, and see that I stayed in room 315 for 30 mins, minutes unaccounted for. They would interrogate me, ask me, what the hell was the problem in that room that I was in there for 30 mins. Logic had told me to walk away, get back to work since, at this time, I had 15 mins left until I was off. OK. Think. Think of a lie now. OK. Security walk-through and saw his door open, went in, fixed his TV. He couldn't work the tub. Yeah, the tub always has a problem. I just had to work the lie right!

He unbuttoned my pants, taking note that there were no britches that he would have to remove.

"No panties?"

"Not the type, don't like cotton on my ass."

He chuckled as he took his arms, entwined in my legs and pulled me down against the bed.

"You are going to need the room."

"How so?"

He kissed my thigh, slowly making his way to my aching pussy. This couldn't be real, I couldn't be allowing this to happen. He licked my clit, like a nursing kitten, unbeknowst to me, that he would transform into a pussy eating lion. He licked and sucked like I was his last meal and I was happy to oblige. Moans escaped my throat, gaining volume with each lick.

"You don't want other guest to know that this is happening," he said, catching a breath.

I panted, "I don't give a fuck, keep going."

He ate me as if he was trying to gain security entrance to my heart. I trembled, squirmed under his mouth but he held me down.

"Oh my god, Oh...My...Gawd. Fuck!"

As I was on the brink of nirvana, his two strong fingers enter, exiting and entering, debating if they want to send me over the tundra of orgasm.

"Please, I'm going to cum."

"That's what I want baby, cum for daddy."

Now, that would have put a halt on any more opportunities for this man to ever have sex with me if he presented himself as "Daddy" but I said,

"Fuck it, it's only once."

"Yes, daddy, please....oh god, I'm coming."

As nirvana took root, he pumped his fingers faster into me, as he was milking my pussy for all the juices that I had.

"My god, you taste so damn sweet, like fruity pebbles."

His face was glazed with my nectar. He cleaned himself up, like a good southern boy would and smiled. He came out of the bathroom and wiped me down; placing a playful kiss on my mound. Grade A stamp of approval.

"Well, Miss Jade, I must say, your hotel has amazing service."

My legs trembled as I struggled to on my pants,

"We do the best we can."

"Well, I'll let you if I have anymore problems with the TV." He walked me to the door, gave me a kiss and closed the door behind me.

I looked down, 10:55, yes! I pinched myself, oh my god, that did really happen. A whole new meaning to the front desk clerk. I came down to the lobby, smile abroad.

"What took you so long?" Trisha asked

"Security walk and two rooms had some issues with their TV. One had the mute button on, and the other had a password and I tried to figure it out."

"Oh, it's 0000, always."

"Wish you would have told me that."

"You never asked."

I had ended my shift and heading home. The next few days, I found myself doing the same thing and saw Kelton in 315. He'd called, I'd come up, he'd eat my pussy, and have nice conversations with me which always ended the shift on a good note. Coming into the next shift, I was sad to find out that he checked out early than his reservation was set for. Like Kelton, there would be others who would later flirt with me, wanting me to come up to their rooms and for some; I would go. 315, however, held secrets of guests that had came through, looking for good off-the-road sex. One guest, who was cute in a skinny skater-boy way would call for me, just to see me play with myself, as he would jack off. 315 was my personal room where my sexual animal would be unleashed on unexpected, physically attractive guests.

He walked in, and my heart stopped. Another man on the rigs but this time, he was black.

"Hi, i'm with the Tammy Stamme party. She reserved some rooms for us."

I gulped. Strong black man, in Clearfield, No Way!

"Uh, yeah. There are some rooms booked for that party. What floor would you prefer?"

"Third please, I need some sleep, and I don't want to hear foot steps above me."

"I completely understand, let me see what we saved."

Looked on the list, all the Stamme party had all checked in, except for the very room that's walls were still whispering my name. Still lingers of scents of weeks ago that I had created.

"Our jacuzzi suite have been saved for you, Mr..."

"St. Angel"

"And that you most certainly are."

He chuckled, "Miss Jade, are you flirting with me?"

"I might be, and if I was?"

"I'd have to say, be careful, I don't take flirting lightly."

Jackpot!!!

"You are going to be in room 315. Now if you have any questions or concerns, please let me know," I said as I handed him his key card.

He took his bags, winked at me and headed upstairs. I chuckled. Another southern gentleman, one who was raised on lard to fry everything, and swimming in the bayou every summer. Who used manners and still held onto chivalry that I once believed was dead. The men that believed that women are to be taken care of both inside and outside of the house, especially in the bedroom. My mouth became dry and my nerves became alive.

"Jade, you know that the shower isn't working."

"Yep, I know" writing his name into the room list, "I'll be right up."

I simply laughed.