"Let me take those bags for you, miss," said Jim, hefting the dark-skinned beauty's two suitcases.
"Ms!" replied the woman, sharply. "And what makes you think a woman can't carry her own luggage?"
"N-nothing!" Jim stuttered. "It's just my job, that's all."
"Oh, I see," said the woman, removing her pointy hat and allowing her hair to cascade down her back as they climbed the stairs to her floor. "You think women can't perform physical tasks, is that it? That they should have their own jobs, for less pay?"
"No," said Jim, struggling with the awkward cases, "but..."
"Or perhaps you think women should stay in the kitchen, chained to the stove?"
I'll throw you into the stove if you don't shut up, you old witch, thought Jim, as he unlocked the room to her suite.
"I heard that!" said the witch, walking over to the windows to close the curtains. Jim realised he probably wasn't going to get a tip. Still, at least I can admire the view. And what a view! The witch's tight dress clung to every little curve of her slender frame, outlining one of the most nibbleable asses Jim had ever seen. Shame that the breasts weren't larger, thought Jim, as he traced the curve of her pert but minimal endowments.
"That's it," snapped the witch suddenly. "I've never heard such depraved thoughts in my life! Here's your tip...!"
Mon Jul 17 13:07:36 2000