I Seduced the Maintenance Man on My Getaway to the Country Hotel

I booked three days in a rural hotel lost among the hills in the mountains because I needed to turn off my phone and stop thinking. I’d been running on autopilot for months: work, home, work. I promised myself that weekend would be just for me. I had no idea how far I was going to keep that promise.

I got the largest suite, one with its own terrace and a jacuzzi overlooking the valley. The first afternoon I went down to the pool. There were hardly two couples there, minding their own business, so I spread my towel in a corner of the grass, took off my dress, and stayed in my bikini. I didn’t dare go topless with people nearby; making that kind of scene wasn’t my style.

I swam for a while and then went back to lie in the sun. That was when I saw him. A maintenance man, in shorts and a tank top because of the July heat, was checking some pipes near the wall. He looked about thirty-eight, with dark skin and a lean, toned body, the kind you get from working hard, not from a gym. He kept staring at me. And far from making me uncomfortable, I loved it.

It had been far too long since anyone had looked at me like that. At home I had gotten used to being invisible, just another face among meetings and deadlines. That чужой, shameless, and at the same time embarrassing gaze gave me back a version of myself I thought I’d lost. I propped myself a little on my elbows, unhurried, letting the sun trace my silhouette, and I noticed how he paused for a second in the middle of his task before pretending to focus again.

I dozed off for a few minutes on the towel. I don’t remember what I dreamed, but I woke with my body lit up, with that warm restlessness in my lower belly I hadn’t felt in ages. I looked around for him and he was gone. I gathered my things to go back up to the room, and when I lifted my eyes I spotted him on the roof, adjusting something under the sun.

So that’s where you were.

I went back up to the suite with a silly idea circling in my head. I stepped out onto the terrace and looked discreetly toward the side of the building. I could see him perfectly, although he was working with his back to me, facing the opposite side. I don’t know if it was the interrupted nap or weeks of drought, but I decided to get into the jacuzzi completely naked, using the excuse that the bikini would leave marks.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him turn his head toward my terrace once, twice, pretending to check something on the tiles. Every stolen glance ran down my spine like an electric current. I acted as if he didn’t exist, as if I were alone in the world, and that performance turned me on more than any contact could.

When I got out of the water, I didn’t dry off. I lay down on the chaise, on my back, in the exact spot where I knew he could see me without it looking obvious. I let the sun caress my wet skin while I felt the weight of his attention on me. It was a silent game, and I was winning.

***

When he finished on the roof, I watched him come down. By then I already had a complete plan in my head. I called reception with my most innocent voice.

—Excuse me, I think the shower in my suite is dripping, and the terrace blind isn’t closing properly. Could you send someone up?

—Of course, ma’am. The maintenance technician will be up in ten minutes.

I hung up with my heart racing. Ten minutes. I didn’t want to come on too strong right away, so I put on just the bottom part of my bikini and a short T-shirt, slightly sheer, the kind that with the right light shows everything underneath. I let my hair down, looked at myself in the mirror, and took a deep breath. When the doorbell rang, I opened the door as if nothing were happening.

It was him. Up close, with sweat beading on his forehead and his forearms defined, he was even more imposing. I held his gaze a second too long.

—Hi. It’s the blind there and the bathroom tap —I said, pointing inside—. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get into the jacuzzi meanwhile.

—No problem —he replied, and his voice came out a little rough.

He started examining the blind mechanism. I, with my back to him but knowing he was watching me from the corner of his eye, slowly took off my T-shirt. I stayed topless and got into the hot water. I felt his gaze fixed on my nape, sliding downward.

After a while I got out to pour myself a glass of white wine from the fridge.

—Would you like something to drink? —I asked, offering him the bottle.

He swallowed. His eyes went straight to my breasts before returning to my face.

—When I’m done, thank you.

I smiled to myself. I went back out to the terrace, grabbed the bottle of sunscreen, and smeared it all over my body with deliberate slowness, turning from side to side, letting him see everything in the reflection of the glass door. Then I sank back into the jacuzzi, pretending to be calm when I felt anything but.

—I’m going into the bathroom to look at the tap —he said from inside—. Might take me a while.

—Take your time —I answered.

***

Five minutes passed. Curiosity got the better of me. I stepped out of the water silently, barefoot on the warm tiles, and crept toward the bathroom. The door was ajar. What I saw left me breathless.

He was standing with his back to me, facing the sink, his pants pulled down to his thighs and his T-shirt off. He was masturbating slowly, his head slightly bowed, holding his breath so as not to make noise. The tap, of course, had already been forgotten.

I didn’t think. I took the last few steps without him hearing me and pressed my bare breasts against his burning back. With one hand I covered his, the one moving, and with the other I held him softly between the legs. He jolted as if struck by lightning and let out a muffled groan.

—Easy —I whispered in his ear—. It’s all right. Keep going.

I kept him there with his back to me for a moment, stroking him slowly, feeling him tremble under my hands. Then I made him turn around. His eyes were dark, lost, with no trace of the discreet worker from a little while ago. I kissed him. A slow kiss at first, which quickly turned hungry, his tongue seeking mine and his hands not knowing where to land, as if he couldn’t believe it was real.

I started to go down. I traced his neck with my lips, his chest, his taut stomach, leaving a wet trail with my tongue as I knelt on the bath mat. He braced himself on the edge of the sink, knuckles white from gripping the marble.

I kissed him first around it, unhurried, licking the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs, listening to his breathing break into short gasps. When he couldn’t take it anymore, I took him into my mouth. I felt him hard, hot, throbbing against my tongue. In and out, deeper each time, at a rhythm I controlled while I held him with my hands.

—Do you want me to keep going? —I asked, looking up at him from below.

—Yes —he panted—. Please, don’t stop.

I sped up. I tightened my lips and let my hands hold his ass, setting the pace. I felt him tense, right on the edge. Then his fingers tangled in my hair and, without warning, he shoved me all the way down his throat. I felt the first spurt hit hot, and another, and another, with my head pressed against him and the air starting to run out.

And yet, instead of upsetting me, that lack of control swept me away. My own body, which had been on the edge all afternoon, lost control without me even touching myself. I had an intense, unexpected orgasm, one I barely registered in that moment amid the dizziness and the lack of air.

I swallowed the last drop. His taste was plentiful and, strangely, slightly sweet. When I finally pulled away and caught my breath, I stayed there for a moment on my knees, my forehead resting against his thigh, recovering from the tremor still running through my legs. Then I looked up at him. He was wrecked, his back against the wall, his breathing in pieces, speechless.

I slowly stood up, enjoying the power of that silence. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, with his gaze, with the fact that the guest in the suite had just knelt in front of him. That sudden clumsiness, after how sure of himself he’d seemed while staring at me all afternoon, struck me as the sexiest thing of all.

—The tap is still dripping —I told him, wiping the corner of my lip with my thumb and smiling.

He let out a nervous laugh, still catching his breath.

***

I didn’t see him again until the last day, when he crossed paths with me in the parking lot as I was loading my suitcase. He held my gaze for a second, gave a half-smile of complicity, and went on his way without saying anything. No words were necessary.

I came to that hotel to disconnect, to forget everything for three days. And did I ever manage it. Even today, when I need to escape for a while inside my own head, I don’t think about the hills or the silence of the valley. I think about an ajar door, a burning back, and how easy it is, sometimes, to stop being the prudent woman everyone thinks they know.