A MAID IN MONTANA Part 1 

I took the job as a maid at the golf resort because, one, I figured I'd be 
left alone a lot of the time while I cleaned, and two, because what else was 
I going to do after high school?  Work a bar, work a cash register at the 
feed store, either one I'd have to deal with assholes who poked fun at me 
for being a fat girl.  I didn't consider myself fat, just sturdy.  It wasn't 
because I ate potato chips and candy bars all day, it was just genetics that 
made me as strong as an ox.  And not afraid of hard work, so if I spent all 
day scrubbing and cleaning, and did it well, nobody would be in my face 
about it.  So the job at the hotel was just fine by me.

What you don't realize until you stay in a hotel is just how much sex is 
going on all the time.  I guess it has to do with being on vacation, some 
kind of excitement about getting to do it in new places.  But not only do 
lots of beds have wet stains every morning, but you find the signs of sex 
everywhere-- condom wrappers in the woods out back of the place, used 
condoms and the ends of joints in the sauna, panties scrunched into the 
cushions of the furniture on the veranda, and-- I'm not kidding here, you'd 
be surprised how often this one happens-- clumps of shaved pubic hair in the 
bathtub.  ("Honey, let's go to Montana so I can shave my dick."  What's up 
with that?)

Oh, and that little sign that goes on the door saying "Do Not Disturb?"  You 
soon learn, as a maid, that a lot of people have no idea what it's for, and 
you need to knock, say hello, jiggle the door and probably drop a room 
service tray on the bathroom tiles if you don't want to accidentally walk in 
on somebody pounding away at his girlfriend (or shaving his dick).  Which 
probably isn't an accident at all; a lot of guys think it's really clever to 
let some maid come in on them in the nude, like we'd just immediately drop 
to the floor and start licking their pole.  Well, usually they see me, 
glaring at them like a linebacker for the Broncos, and they get over the 
idea real quick.

Okay, I'm making it sound like I have to deal with assholes all day, and I 
really don't.  I don't deal with anybody most of the time, but now and then 
you chat with folks, you find out about different parts of the country, old 
ladies show you their grandkids' pictures-- there's a kind of freedom that 
comes from knowing you're talking to someone you'll never talk to again.  
It's not bad.  More interesting than talking to the folks I grew up with in 
town.

There was this one nice couple, Roger and Patricia, middle-aged I guess 
you'd call them, very nice-looking people, very fit and healthy-looking.  
They were staying for two weeks so by the second or third day we got to 
chatting, and within a day or two after that we had gotten pretty friendly.  
"Do you have a husband or a boyfriend?" Patricia asked me.

"No, I don't really think there's anybody here that I'd want to be married 
to," I said.

"You're not fond of the town?"

"It's all right, I guess," I said.  "But still, I pretty much know everybody 
by now, and it's hard to imagine any of them seeming any more appealing than 
they do already."

She laughed.  "Maybe you're waiting for someone to come along to the hotel."

I rolled my eyes.  "I don't think the guys who come to the hotel are looking 
for me," I said.

"My dear," she said, "People are always looking for more than you'd 
imagine."

I looked at her to see if she was joking.  "You really think guys are 
looking for somebody shaped like me?"

"I think," she said, and she put her hand on mine to emphasize her point, 
"there are a lot of people who would find you, as a person, very attractive, 
your shape, your intellect, and your personality."  She stood up.  "It only 
takes one of those to win somebody over; the rest will follow soon enough.  
Don't sell yourself short in any department."


I thought about what she said while I cleaned their suite after they went to 
run.  I guess what she said was true; if somebody went for one part of you, 
they could look past the other parts, maybe even get to where they liked 
them okay.  I started to pull the sheets off their bed-- noticing that there 
was a very wet stain in the middle of it, as there had been every morning.  
I blushed at the thought-- sex every night.  Hard to imagine when you'd 
never really had sex at all-- been felt up at parties, I jerked a guy off 
once, practically ripped it off him if truth be told, I kinda got into the 
spirit of things a little too much.  But that was basically it.  And to 
think of-- doing it every night.

I suddenly realized I was sort of rubbing my thighs together.  In fact, I 
had an itch in my pussy that I was going to have to take care of if I didn't 
want to be distracted the whole day.  They were going to be gone for at 
least two hours, I knew, so I quickly put the DND sign on the door and 
bolted it for extra safety (this WOULD be the day they forgot something-- 
I'd be the first maid who ever got naked to "accidentally" surprise a 
guest).  Then, scarcely able to believe what I was doing, I started to 
undress myself in front of the mirror.

I don't think my face is unattractive.  It's round, it's pale, I blush 
easily, but it's open and honest.  I see thinner faces that I think look 
mean, or bored, or vain, and I prefer mine.  Sometimes, anyway.

Then there was my top.  Yeah, I'm pretty big and square-shouldered.  Dad 
would make that crack about how I should have gone out for football, even 
after it was obvious that it bugged me.  But as I unbuttoned my blouse my 
boobs were big and round, boys liked that, let the room get dark at a party 
and my big boobs suddenly got more attention than I'd gotten with the lights 
on.  I unbuttoned my bra and let them hang loose over my soft but not too 
big tummy.  Like I said, I don't think I'm exactly fat, just big.  I rubbed 
them up and let them fall, then pinched the nipples, which stood up.  That 
sent a jolt to my pussy, too, and suddenly I had an idea, a very dirty idea.

I went over to the wet stain on the bed, and let my big tits flop onto it.  
It was cold and slimy, but I started to warm it up with my body.  I let my 
tits roll in the ooze, smearing my nipples with what was there.  A little 
gob of goo made a string from my nipple to the bed.  I held my tit up to my 
mouth, and then impulsively, I licked the goo off my own nipple.  I smelled 
sex, sweat, the bleachy smell of sperm.  I sucked my nipple, sucking it into 
my mouth for a minute or two, long past the point of having licked 
everything I'd smeared on me off.

Now I stood up and let the rest of my uniform slide off me, and then my 
panties, revealing my broad, boxy hips, my big round ass, my strong, sturdy 
thighs.  I got onto the bed, positioning my big butt into the middle of the 
wet spot, as if I had been responsible for it, and I used my finger to 
spread my pussy lips wide.  Now I started rubbing my clit, my ass grinding 
into the wet spot.  My other hand rubbed my tits, then my thighs, then my 
big ass, caressing my ass as it squirmed against the wet spot, as my fingers 
flashed over my clit, faster and faster.  Now I was fucking the bed, as if 
Roger was fucking me, as if he was on top of me, his cock driving into my 
pussy, pushing my ass into the slimy wet stain on the bed.

I squeezed my ass as if he were holding onto it, using it to pull himself 
deeper into me.  My tits bounced up and down furiously, my fat belly 
jiggled, my ass dug itself a trench into the bed as Roger, in my 
imagination, dug into my trench, my vagina that had never had anything in it 
other than my fingers (my cherry having broken in gym class years before-- I 
thought I was having a period every week).  I slid my fingers deep inside, 
thrust them in me as if they were a cock, not that I knew what a cock felt 
like.  I could feel my juice running down my ass.  My come started to build 
and I squeezed my nipples so hard I thought they'd pop.  Then it went 
through me, my thighs squeezed together, sparks shot out the top of my head. 
  I relaxed and sank back into the goo I was sitting in and looked at myself 
in the mirror, legs up, pussy spread.

Slowly I lifted myself out of the bed and stood up.  My ass had marks like 
someone had been holding onto it for dear life.  (Well, one side did, 
anyway, the other hand had been busy.)  My face and chest were as red as a 
stoplight.  The wet spot was considerably larger, my juice had mixed with 
theirs.  Theirs.  Suddenly I had guilt-- Patricia had been so nice to me and 
there I was thinking of fucking her husband.  Now a bit ashamed of myself, I 
wiped my wet butt off with the sheet, then quickly put my uniform back on 
and stripped the bed.  I put the sheets in my laundry bag, then opened the 
door and looked out.  No one there, so I quickly removed the DND sign and 
went back to cleaning up as if nothing had happened, as if the door had been 
wide open the whole time.

It wasn't until I was rolling the cart to the next room, thinking about how 
I would look at them with a straight face when I'd been jilling off to 
thinking about fucking him in their own bed, that it really hit me how I had 
not only been licking up his cum but her juices too, when I'd spread my tits 
over it and then licked them off.  I looked at the sheet, crumpled in my 
bag, and picked it up and sniffed it again, this time smelling mainly a 
feminine smell, hers and mine, mixed together.  I'd licked up another 
woman's pussy drippings, I said to myself.  I thought about it for a minute, 
and then I decided I was okay with that.