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"I bet you find some rooms are a little more–unkempt–than others," I said, reflecting back on how she'd stumbled upon my vibrator resting on the bathroom counter earlier in the day.
"Some guests are a little neater than others, to be sure," she said, taking a little extra time to plump the pillows at the head of the bed.
"But yours is easier than most," she smiled, lowering her gaze to the cleavage showing in my partially unbuttoned silk blouse.
"Do people sometimes leave things behind?" I said, hoping to steer the conversation in a new direction.
"Oh yes," she said. "Everything you can imagine. Laptops, belts, pieces of clothing–"
"And other personal effects?" I smiled.
"Sometimes," she blushed. "But we store everything in the lost and found in case customers want to reclaim them."
"And if they don't?" I said. "Do the housekeeping staff get to keep them as the spoils of their work?"
She placed the breakfast menu on my side table with a fresh bottle of water.
"Not usually. The hotel tries to contact them, and if we don't hear back after a certain period of time, we usually throw it out."
"That must be frustrating," I said. "I once accidentally left an expensive coat in an overhead storage bin on an airplane and never had it returned."
"They couldn't find it?" the girl enquired.
"Apparently not," I said. "I always wondered if whoever cleans the plane simply didn't report it and kept it for themselves."
"That must have been infuriating," the maid said, heading toward the bathroom to check on my supplies.
"Not so much infuriating as embarrassing," I said. "It was the personal effects I left in my pocket that bothered me the most."
"Yes, I can imagine," she said, returning to the side of my bed carrying my robe and a pair of terrycloth slippers. "Was it something valuable?"
"Not in monetary terms," I said, widening my eyes as she laid the robe on the edge of the mattress and placed the slippers at the side of the bed. "Just little trinkets I carry with me to keep me amused on long flights."
She felt the lump in the pocket of my robe and reached in to extract my vibrator.
"Like this one?" she smiled, placing it upright on the night table beside the bed. "I don't think you'll want this falling into the wrong hands."
"It depends whose hands it is," I smiled at her with a raised eyebrow.
The girl paused for a long moment, as we ran our eyes over one another's bodies.
"Do you mind if I ask how it works?" she asked. "I've never seen anything quite like it before."
"Oh my God," I said. "You haven't seen the famous Sex in the City episode where Miranda introduces her newfound sex toy to her best friends?"
"No..."
"Come," I said excitedly. "Scooch down next to me while I show you what this amazing device can do."
I sat down on the edge of the bed and held out my hand, pulling her down next to me. Then I grabbed the dildo off the nightstand and tapped a button on the base of the unit. I handed the shaking device to the girl, and she wrapped her hand around the shaft.
"Okay..." she said, shaking her head. "That's not so different from most vibrators."
So she has used vibrators before, I said to myself.
"That's only one of many ways it can stimulate you," I smiled.
I tapped another button and suddenly the chrome beads embedded inside the translucent shaft began rotating in circles.
