The Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa – Night Management – Chelsea

 

The beautiful Downshire village of Clerembeax St Giles is situated to the west of Abbeyvale, located between Grace Hill and Bushy Down, and on the outskirts was the Clerembeax Palace Hotel and Spa.

It was once the home The Clerembeax’s, who arrived in Downshire following the Norman conquests and stayed for a thousand years before the name died out following the death of the reclusive Marcus Clerembeax at the age of 96.

The current owner was Yvonne Labuschagne, who decided to open it as a Hotel and Spa and she and her handpicked staff had made a great success of it, and they had a varied clientele who frequented the Hotel for a variety of reasons, but all of them expected a high degree of service.

So the staff were always on hand to deal with whatever needs the guests might require, whatever the hour, and among the night duty staff were Night Manager Chelsea Winfield and her assistant Charlie Wadsworth.

Chelsea Winfield was 26 years old and divorced from a violent alcoholic but despite that she was an upbeat person, she was five foot eight with long platted blonde hair, mesmerizing green eyes.

She also had a very decent figure, with a pert derriere, disproportionately large breasts, and stellar legs.

She also had appetites, which was why she liked Night Management because there was always a lonely guest who would be happier satisfying their lust with a real woman rather than watching porn.

But if she were to strike out with the clientele, she could always resort to her sex buddy Sebastian Chapman, who was the Senior Night Staff Manager at the Hotel, who could normally be relied upon to oblige her.

The sex with Sebastian was great but she wasn’t the only willing and able woman with needs on his radar and so she preferred to cast her net wider, which was where James Bottrill came in.

James was a widower and a regular guest at the Hotel, as he had a business in nearby Abbeyvale.

He was a tall good-looking man in his late thirties with prematurely grey hair, but he was a quiet shy.

Chelsea fancied him from the time before she became Night Manager, and she had hopes that he might be more than a quickie, so when she got the chance to talk with him she used the opportunity to flirt with him.

However, he was so shy nothing ever came of it, despite her best efforts, until one day when she decided to take drastic action, partly because Sebastian was in Spain, but mainly because she had to force James Bottrill’s well-manicured hand.  

Unfortunately, James was out most of the evening in question but decided to intercept him when she saw him return.

“Hello Mr Bottrill” she said brightly “Have you had a good evening?”

“Yes, thank you Chelsea” he replied “But tiring, so I think a hot shower and supper in my room”

“Very good Mr Bottrill” she said and smiled to herself as he walked away, as she had a plan to get his attention, so she phoned the kitchen.

 

She met the waiter in the corridor outside James Bottrill’s room and said

“Ok I’ll take it from here”

“Very well Miss Winfield” he responded

When he opened the door, she could see he had indeed showered, and he was wearing a silk dressing gown and hoped nothing else.

Chelsea had also showered since they last spoke, and she had changed from her suit and blouse and into a dress.

The reasons for that were two-fold, first it was shorter than her skirt and would show off her lovely legs and more importantly give her an opportunity to flash her stocking tops.  
“Oh, hello Chelsea” he said, “Do you do everything at this Hotel?”

“No, I was just passing” she lied and blushed as she pushed the trolley into the room tottering on her highest heels, chosen for the maximum exposure up her skirt as she bent over.

Which she quickly did and asked, “Where would you like it?”

James didn’t reply because he was too busy staring at the dirty postcard image of Chelsea bending over the trolley in her seemed stockings and best silk underwear.

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder to make sure he was looking and bent a little further and asked, “on the desk or on the bed?”

 

Suffice is to say his supper went uneaten, though his appetite had been well and truly satisfied by the time Chelsea wheeled the trolley out of his room, and as she walked along the corridor, she was feeling very pleased with herself that she had helped him overcome his shyness with her special room service, something he would get to enjoy every time he stayed at the Clerembeax Palace.