505 was a number that would stay lodged in Annabel's mind for a long time to come, for that was the number of the hotel room where she first learnt the joy of pissing in new and naughty places, an act that saw her liberated from an otherwise mundane sexual existence.
It was the smell of expensive perfume that caught her attention as the woman walked past. Annabel had been too engrossed in pushing her cleaning trolley along the plush corridor carpet that had seen her eyes averted from the hotel guest. With an impulsive reflex action she turned her head to spy the identity of the woman who had just passed, a fleeting means to attempt to guess at the kind of lifestyle that others could enjoy but not her.
The departing guest was a slim lady of obvious Asian descent, tall and with trailing radiant black hair that fell as a curtain around her cream coloured blouse, a fact that drew Annabel's gaze to the woman's perfectly formed posterior, her shapely buttocks perfectly outlined by the tight press of her grey business trousers. The trolley came to a juddering halt as Annabel's wandering attention saw her aim drift. The rattle of cleaning utensils and assorted sanitizing products was extraordinarily loud in the corridor causing the departing woman to momentarily turn and catch the maid's eye. This was a quick flash of a warm smile, something that spoke of more than just a friendly exchange. Annabel could not but help but quickly track down the woman's blouse to where the shapely press of her contained breasts bulged against the tight surface. Her nipples were hard! Annabel quickly glanced away, embarrassment bringing a flush to her cheeks. She was not normally aroused by other women but the guest from 505 was a rare beauty and one not too aloof to ordain to notice mere cleaning staff.
Annabel took charge of her misguided cart, tugging it away from the wall. She was too afraid to look back to see if the woman was still staring, half scared that she might be and what such a look might entail. The soft sound of departing footfalls spoke otherwise, the hotel guest returning to her path towards the hotel lift. With a deep sigh that contained so many pent up frustrations, the young maid swiped her card past the lock and entered into room 505.
As the lights flickered on Annabel caught sight of herself in the hallway's full length mirror. She was plain of feature yet with a homeliness that could catch men's eyes; that and the ample size of her full bosom. To further her embarrassment from the hallway she was shocked to discover that the press of her own excited nipples was quite obvious through both her bra and the thin white cotton of her hotel working wear. Shaking her short blond hair in a sway of negativity she refused to allow herself to be drawn into a fantasy whereby she and the beautiful guest rolled in naked tandem across the sweaty bed sheets, nipple to nipple as they kissed and caressed with eager tongues, the warm wetness between their legs supple temptation to questing fingers...
Annabel entered the main room. Whoever she was, the guest was tidy in the extreme. All visible personal belongings were stacked neatly on the nearby dresser; her singular suitcase sealed and pushed up flat against the one wall. Even the bed was half made, the sheets pulled tight and pillows pumped back into shape. Without conscious thought Annabel found herself abandoning her charge of cleaning apparatus and moving to where a silky red nightdress had been carefully folded on the drawer beside the bed. She picked it up and tentatively moved it to her nose. It smelt of petals!
Quickly returning the nightwear back where she had found it, Annabel found that her hands were shaking. The unmade bed looked so wonderfully inviting, more so for it having played host to the deliciously supple form of the absent Asian guest. Annabel shook her head again. What was she thinking? One thing was certain; her encounter with the woman in the hallway had left her horny as hell, a fact most likely attributable to the highly expensive perfume she had been wearing. On a sudden impulse Annabel looked around seeking out the bottle and thus a means to identify the mysterious intoxicating aroma. It was then that she first noticed the chair!
Each hotel room featured a king-sized bed, a desk and writing chair, table and lamp, mini-bar, TV and finally a plush sitting chair for relaxing in one corner. It was this that held Annabel's attention. Given the alluring guest's attention to neatness it was a most obvious feature that the seating cushion was not firmly pushed back as though it had recently been withdrawn. It was almost as if it had been left it such a way to prompt investigation by any entering the room...
Intrigued, Annabel crossed over to the offending item. Her first instinct as a maid was to push it back into place and resume her duties. However, a little voice in her head said otherwise. Gingerly she reached out and took hold of the cushion opposing edges. With a sharp pull she yanked it free. Disappointment was her reward for nothing untoward had been revealed. Sighing at her overworked imagination Annabel made to return the large cushioned seat. With a reflex action she spun it around, seeing to offer its previously unused surface for future use.
She froze with surprise. A long and very damp stain marked the cushion, widening outwards from what had been the base. Her immediate thought was that the pristine guest had spilt her drink and had been too embarrassed to leave the evidence on display yet all her experience as a maid told Annabel that this was not the case. Her hormones were racing with flushed excitement as she began to guess at the nature of the stain. It was not an unheard of experience for guests to occasionally relieve themselves in unorthodox locations around a hotel room. Never however would Annabel have attributed such an urging to a woman as beautiful as the departed guest.
She pushed the cushion home, damp stain exposed for the entire world to witness. She could not help but visualise the act, the motions the woman had taken to carry out her extremely naughty toilet -- the descent of those grey trousers along exotically tanned legs, the following pursuit of an extremely thin thong, moving from around those perfectly formed and wonderfully round bum cheeks and the exposure of the woman's trimmed pubic hair, as midnight black as that perfect mane of head hair. Annabel's imagination raced on. Without realising it she had pressed one hand to the groove between her legs, where her covered pussy was moist with excitement.
It was though she was living out the deed for herself, slipping into the woman's mind and seeing through another's eyes the act of piss vandalism that was to follow. She felt no revulsion for the deed had been done as an act of sexual fulfilment, a desire to entertain a fantasy reserved for a foreign place away from the restraints of the home. Annabel saw herself as the beautiful guest as she reversed around to the chair, slowly lowering her buttocks into place until she was hovering a mere inch above the fabric she was about to christen with a hot fountain of her spraying hot pee.
In Annabel's eyes she envisioned the woman parting her legs, revealing the short tapering triangle of shaped pussy hairs that hid from immediate sight the deep vertical groove of her slit that contained her hidden pee hole that would soon be open and squirting forth a hot shower of spraying piss. Annabel was lost to her fantasy, so much so that she was oblivious to the growing warm sensation inside her panties as she involuntarily let loose a squirt of pee into her underwear. In her mind she had summoned the idea of getting ready to pee over the chair, to allow her clear coloured squirt of piss its release into the open air between her pussy and that of the cushion fabric. She allowed her fantasy to move on, feeling the erotic sensation of relief as her bladder released its urgent hold on all its pent up piss, allowing a freely running stream of bodily heated urine to race to its exit point inside her lower lips.
Despite the fact that this was only transpiring inside her mind, Annabel could all too easily conjure up the soft hiss and splatter as her resulting fast torrent of squirting pee left her body and began its work to stain the hotel seat in a fountain of pattering piss. Over the years, Annabel regularly enjoyed using the toilet floor to catch her wee as she squatted and urinated. It had been such a thrill, an act of rebellion, joining those around her who would squirt their pee in a similar manner. Annabel and her friends had also sat with their bum hole over the pan, but with their pussies at the ready to spray the toilet floor with a stream of hot piss. Such memories returned to aid Annabel as she lived through the guest's secret toilet over the chair. There was an incredible freedom to be found in such an act, that and the incredible sensation of relief as the pent up pressure inside was released in a fast flowing stream of piss between her legs. In her mind's eye she watched the growing stain as it expanded over the cushion, hot pee seeping inwards as she continued her hot spraying pussy fountain, the stream of urine jetting from her hidden slit showing little sign of dying down. All around the bedroom was deathly quiet as though the world was holding its breath, listening intently to the sound of her pissing. Beneath her poised buttocks the stain was at its darkest, testament to the amount of piss she had already squirted over the cushion. It was a thrill like no other, having a toilet in the most inappropriate of places yet loving every minute of it.
Annabel was suddenly snapped away from her fantasy of being the beautiful hotel guest in the middle of her full flowing piss stream over the chair. In real life she had actually allowed a little of her own bladder's supply to leak into her panties. The warm wetness around her crotch was most obviously that of leaked pee and not attributable to the moistness of her aroused desire. She looked away from the damp stained chair cushion, staring intently at her covered groin, attempting to see if the dampness inside had already leaked through. Another need however was urgently pressing, demanding her full attention. She desperately needed to relieve herself!
Thoughts of running to the bathroom and emptying her much needed piss into the toilet seemed totally repugnant considering that somebody else had recently relieved themselves in a much more exciting manner. Annabel was fumbling with the zipper to her skirt before she even realised what she was doing. Her work attire fell to the floor around her creamy ankles. She stared in horror at her reflection in the mirror, the dampness around her hidden muff clearly visible. Unable to contain her actions she reached for the elastic that kept her pink work panties in place. Seconds later and they were on the carpet. Now Annabel was half naked, stood by a telltale piss stained cushion, and desperate to pee. There was only one course of action.
It took no hesitation for Annabel to follow the lead of her fantasy, moving to squat so that her wide bum cheeks were hovering just as her predecessor in her act of toilet crime. With trembling actions she parted her stance, allowing her legs to open to reveal her shaved pussy poised over the piss soaked chair that she had every intention of christening a second time.
Annabel began her toilet. Her pee hole opened and with a sense of mixed horror intertwined with a rushing thrill she marvelled at the way her pussy stream shot from her lower lips, spraying forwards in a short questing arc before falling to patter noisily over the urine stain made by the other woman. One hand was on her right tit, rolling her fingers around a painfully hard nipple. She was utterly aroused. Without conscious thought she slipped her other hand between her thighs. Her fingers entered her squirting spray. It was the hottest thing she had ever felt. She began to play with herself, pissing all the while. The stain beneath her hovering buttocks was bigger than ever, rivulets of her spent piss rolling off the cushion edge and dripping to the carpet below. She didn't care for she was rushing to a climax and with it an orgasm of biblical proportions. She could not stop. Her flowing piss felt mind-blowingly good as it flowed over her skin, the soft drip and hiss of her escaping pussy fountain music to her ears. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought that anything so dirty could feel so incredibly good.
Annabel was still in mid flow, piss squirting wetly from her uncovered pussy lips when a slight click from the room door announced the freeing of lock. Seconds later and the door began to slowly open...
