1. Working in Guest Services


    Date: 9/2/2016, Categories: Hardcore, Author: CommunicationDirectr, Rating: 11, Source: LushStories

    bill. Tossing it on to the girl withering on the floor in front of us, I slipped my hand on to her ass and squeezed. “Did I say you could do that?” she remarked, looking at me. “You have to tip to touch.” I apologized and took a step back. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Danisha,” she responded, “But you can call me Cindy. Danisha is my stage name.” “Is Danisha- I mean Cindy- making some good money tonight?” I asked. “After the split, no,” she replied, “Not much, but the night is young.” “Split?” I inquired. “There are seven of us splitting two thousand,” she replied. “That’s less than $300 a piece,” I responded. “Yeah, and we have to pay our own cab ride home,” she replied, “Unless I blow the cabbie.” I was astonished. Our hotel guest was a big time international banker and he couldn’t fork over more than a few thousand bucks for a few strippers. His room alone was $2000 a night and each bottle of Champagne was about $300. “No,” Cindy replied, “Two is our cut after a negotiated deal with the club manager. “I could easily make double this staying at the club, but I wasn’t given a choice. Fucking strip club!” I was freaking horny. I had to admit it. It was close to 2am. I was supposed to get off at 2am. I looked at my watch. I didn’t want to go, but I knew that overtime had to be approved. “Grab your clothes,” I remarked. “Why?” she asked. “I’ll make it worth your time,” I replied. I stepped over to where Bob was setting on the couch between two topless strippers. “Bob,” I ...
    remarked, “I need a favor.” I motioned for him to follow me. The three of us went into the kitchen area of the suite. “She needs her cut,” I remarked to Bob. “That’s up to the guest,” Bob replied. “Well, tell him this young lady needs to go,” I remarked, looking in Cindy’s direction. Bob told us to wait while he found out who was in charge of things. I told Cindy to gather her things. She disappeared back into the main party room. She returned, dressed in her black cocktail dress, just as Bob re-entered the kitchenette. Bob held out three $100 bills and handed them to her. Cindy followed me to the entry door to the suite. “Where are we going?” she inquired, as we walked down the pastel colored hallway of the hotel. “My place,” I replied, “if you want to.” “Sure,” she replied. Cindy accompanied me to the hotel lobby. The night manager was nowhere to be found. I had her take a seat and told her I would be back in a few minutes. I turned in my hotel keys and the portable two-way radio at the security desk, and then raced back to the lobby. Cindy followed me down to the parking garage located under the hotel. I opened the passenger side door to my small pickup truck and she slid in, her cocktail dress scrunching up to reveal plenty of leg. As I slid in to the driver’s seat, Cindy put her hand directly on my crotch. “Mmmm-mmmm,” she hummed. She leaned over and whispered, “Someone has a huge party tool.” I smiled, as Cindy fumbled with the top button and my trouser zipper. Pulling my ...
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