The old man mutters, bends over to grab the bag by its neck, and stands it upright sandwiched between the white bag and a chair leg.
He unbuttons his coat but does not take it off.
The young housekeeper slows her pace scanning the scene to see what is nagging her. Cream pie femdom.
It takes a few moments for to realize that it is the nothing that is unnerving her – no noise, no milling.
Interracial flesh 3 18 min
There seem to be as many guests as there always are and yet, most are almost motionless.
And there are far more hotel staff visible than she’s ever been aware of before. Ebony step mother and cronys daughter.
Among them, she spies her supervisor and hustles toward her, dreading to apologize again for being late.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the bus was…” she begins.
“Ssssh, don’t worry about that now,” says the Supervisor, barely taking the time to glance at the cowering housekeeper. Black boob perfect.
“But, I want to…” “Not now,” snaps the Supervisor in whispered tones.
“Take your coat off and stand here,” pointing to a spot next to her behind a great chair, “you might learn a thing or two.
” The housekeeper complies and then follows the Supervisor’s gaze across the Great Foyer into the hallway where she sees the old man. Bissexual amador.
If eyes were lights, he’d be lit up like the Luxor Hotel, a place she someday hopes to work.
“Who is he?” she whispers, a question on everybody’s mind.
“No one knows,” says the Supervisor, “except for one person. Dating on line and lower mainland.
” “And who is…” “Ssssssh! and that’s the last time I’ll warn you,” snarls the Supervisor.
The old man turns slowly, careful to reach behind himself and neatly fold forward the tail of his coat as he sits down.