Business meeting

*Mike pov*

It was about three in the morning when I suddenly awoke. The red LED clock in the corner confirmed the time. For a moment I struggled to remember where I was. The vague idea that I was now in new York city, slowly turned into certainty that I was right. Of course, this was the queens Hotel new York. It's your own fault you can't remember and that you have a raging thirst, I thought. God, I needed some water. How many bottles of Prosecco had we drunk last night? But it had been a good night; if ultimately frustrating.

For we both it had been a very tough week. I hesitated for a moment, thinking I should put a shirt on. It was way too early to be worrying about such things. Laughing at my shyness, I headed out of the bedroom to find the fridge.

This was some hotel room. It was called the Presidential suite, an upgrade because of some booking problem but it was a great treat. Other rooms would have a minibar but no this had an American-style larder-fridge. We had done seven meetings, in five days, across five cities. A brutal schedule, but at least we had a nice hotel to end the trip in and the upgrade had been very welcome.

I had been debating about staying another night, had even got as far as checking out whether it was possible but then had chickened out suggesting it. If she had said no, I would have to stay here alone and that seemed like no fun. It would also rob me of the journey home together.

There had been several moments last night when I could have suggested it, but I had let it slide. You might think I had chickened out, and I had, but deep down I knew it was both inappropriate and dangerous. Just too risky, I had decided then, but now I was regretting it.

The rooms were dully lit from the glare of the city outside, so I proceeded without turning any lights on, as I headed from the bedroom. I stopped short as I entered the palatial lounge/ kitchen. Jane (my sister's employed maid) had beaten me to the fridge and was bending over, retrieving some water from it.

My sister franca allowed her to accompany me to the trip after my request. For a moment I froze, distracted by her wonderful ass in the very tight and very short shorts she was wearing. The light from the fridge placed her in a kind of yellow spotlight which showed off her tight backside very nicely.

Suddenly I could feel that my heart was racing, but whether this was excitement or something else, I was not sure. Ideas about fate and chances swirled through my head in a muddled mix of thoughts. But I can't do it, she might give me another slap, or kick me again. We have not slept together or had sex since we came here, maybe it's because am afraid to Make a move. The only lady am afraid of. As I was standing, staring at her back, the sensible side of my mind spoke.

"Go back quietly to your room" I told myself, but before I could do that, I saw myself going closer to her. I tickled her on both sides. The result was disastrous. She screamed very loudly, and the bottle fell to the floor, shattering on the hard-tiled surface. Water and more worrying glass scattering all around her.

"Shit," she said, looking down at the mess around her.

"Don't move! Stay right there!" I ordered. "Just let me get some shoes."

"Mike, what the fuck are you doing sneaking up on me like that and tickling me?" She yelled angrily after me, but when I returned with shoes on my feet, we looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing. "Oh crap," she said, looking down again at the floor, "I think I am stuck." I was willing my eyes to keep looking at her face, aware that she had a top on that left her midriff bare and did nothing to disguise the fact that she had wonderfully large breasts. Her eyes dropped to the floor which gave me a moment to sneak a quick lecherous look.

Her nipples were poking through the top. It was obvious she was bra-less. Her eyes were back on me now and I made my eyes snap back up to her face. She smiled.

"You could have brought me a gown from one of the wardrobes." She said. "You know you are perhaps not a gentleman unless you had changed which is not possible." The words were spoken in a very measured way, but I did not doubt she was teasing me, rather than still being angry.

The reference to me not being a gentleman was from the way I had sexually abused her and other maids before. Of course, it had been a little awkward for both of us, the idea of having my maid effectively sharing a hotel room. Even if it was like an apartment, with three ensuite bedrooms and a separate lounge. We had debated for a while about it. We had played a kind of silly game because we both knew we were not going to give this opportunity up.

"I'll show you what a gentleman I am," I said, stepping across to her, glass crunching under my shoes as I did. I grabbed a fresh bottle of water from the fridge and then I stooped down and with one easy movement, I picked her up.

"What? No! Put me down!" She squealed, kicking her legs. "Put me down," she repeated over and over, in the same high-pitched voice. As I turned, I managed to kick the fridge door closed and despite her protests, I made sure she was safely clear of any glass on the floor before placing her gently back onto the ground.