SPIRITUAL RESPONSIBILITY
a story
L'il Chica came to my attention on the balcony of a resort in a wealthy part of the country. The hotel I was staying in was elegant. The staff, the food, the décor, everything was simple in its elegance, and the maid that was making the bed in my room as I stood on the balcony taking in the sky and the breezes was no less than a mystical creature. I didn't hear her knock so she had entered the room thinking the room was not occupied. Stillness was within my concentration, and when one of the soft sounds she made broke my reverie I startled her when I parted the white curtains dancing in the open patio door.
We exchanged startled looks. The deep set of her eyes ate my initial discomfort. There was moistness, a gentle dare in her eyes, or a mirror and I was looking at a growing attraction to something intangible within her I wish was a part of me. She broke the silence apologizing for intruding.
“I didn’t know. I am sorry sir.”
I didn’t care. I wasn’t upset. I assured her, and we began to talk while she made the bed, and finished her chores. She was wearing the cutest short maid skirt I’d ever seen. Long white leggings snaked up a bit past the mid part of her reddish brown thighs leaving a questioning space between the hem of her very short skirt. With a mere shove the piece of cloth between ample breasts and the skin of the upper part of her stomach was revealed. She saw my reaction, and how quickly my eyes averted to something not crawling on the floor.
A half of an hour into soft words she was very close to me her breath suggesting a wish.
a story
L'il Chica came to my attention on the balcony of a resort in a wealthy part of the country. The hotel I was staying in was elegant. The staff, the food, the décor, everything was simple in its elegance, and the maid that was making the bed in my room as I stood on the balcony taking in the sky and the breezes was no less than a mystical creature. I didn't hear her knock so she had entered the room thinking the room was not occupied. Stillness was within my concentration, and when one of the soft sounds she made broke my reverie I startled her when I parted the white curtains dancing in the open patio door.
We exchanged startled looks. The deep set of her eyes ate my initial discomfort. There was moistness, a gentle dare in her eyes, or a mirror and I was looking at a growing attraction to something intangible within her I wish was a part of me. She broke the silence apologizing for intruding.
“I didn’t know. I am sorry sir.”
I didn’t care. I wasn’t upset. I assured her, and we began to talk while she made the bed, and finished her chores. She was wearing the cutest short maid skirt I’d ever seen. Long white leggings snaked up a bit past the mid part of her reddish brown thighs leaving a questioning space between the hem of her very short skirt. With a mere shove the piece of cloth between ample breasts and the skin of the upper part of her stomach was revealed. She saw my reaction, and how quickly my eyes averted to something not crawling on the floor.
A half of an hour into soft words she was very close to me her breath suggesting a wish.
- Gregory E. Woods, Keeper of Stories
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