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Young man loves an older, voluptuous, widow.

He had piled them neatly on the short steps into the tub, which was rare. Most men never bothered to clean up after themselves. Gen smiled wryly, wondering if the man was married. She picked up the clothes and took a moment to look at his hands. He was sporting a golden band on his ring finger, so Gen shrugged. All the good men were married.

The maid took the clothes silently back to the changing room, and dropped them onto a bench inside. Then she went to a set of shelves and got a nice thick dressing robe of near velvety material. Surely the man would appreciate having his clothes out of the way of the water, and being able to find a robe like this nearby would be a delightful convenience.

Gen took the robe out to the balcony, peering up through the thin slanted screens that kept any high flying birds or bugs from coming into the balcony area itself. The evening promised to be cool. Gen wondered if she should wake the man, or let him wake slowly to the chill himself. She decided the second answer was best.

As she was walking away from him, Gen heard a slight splash. She turned around, but the man hadn't moved a muscle. She frowned, her pretty lips moving as she bit her bottom lip.

Was he awake?

Gen raised an eyebrow and watched for a few more minutes, but the man did not stir. His face seemed serene and well flushed, so he hadn't died. She shrugged, but as she turned to walk away from him this time, a nasty thought occurred to her.

What would it be like to expose herself to him?

His eyes were closed. He wouldn't see a thing. And it would be such a thrill!

Gen slowly walked over to the front of the balcony, looking down into the quiet city from the height of the penthouse. No one would see her up here. The nearest buildings were quite far away and most were smaller than the hotel in which her boss had made his home away from home. She turned around, facing the Jacuzzi, and began to unbutton the front of her uniform.

She peeled each of the buttons apart, one by one, until at last the front of her black dress fell to the sides, and her round breasts pushed forward. Standing with her legs spread, Gen reached down to the hem of her dress and lifted the skirt up, exposing her shaven sex to the man sleeping in front of her.

He didn't move a muscle.

Gen smiled, then shivered. She held her skirt up with one hand, letting the other travel languidly down to between her thighs. She cupped her sex with her fingers but took little time before she was pulling her lips apart.

"Mmm," she moaned, beginning to tease at the pearl of her clit.

She fingered it, and closed her eyes, pretending inside her mind that the man in the tub was awake, watching her. Maybe, in her fantasy world, he would be her boss. And he would demand that she do this for him, when he finally realized she wore no panties under her uniform. Maybe he never touched her, never pleased her, but insisted she please herself just like this, in front of him, every night. From a distance.

Gen groaned, biting her bottom lip harder this time to keep in the whining. She slipped two fingers lower, teasing at the thin but swollen outer labia around her slit. Then she slipped them inside, stretching her hole as she began to vigorously finger her hole. She sighed, letting her head drop back, as she began to climax. Her fingers thrust up and up inside her, in and out rhythmically.

"Bravo," came a deep and resonating voice.

Gen's eyes flew open. The man was awake and watching her!

"Don't stop on my behalf," he said in a quiet but firm voice that spoke of New York elites.

Gen gulped, blushed a deep burgundy, and ran for the changing room, hiding her face in her hands. She ducked around the doorway, her heart beating hard in her chest as she gasped for breath.

The man was calling out to her now.

"Miss? Miss, come back, please. Please?"

Gen gulped again. Should she go back? She blinked.

Wasn't this the epitome of all her tiny deceitfulness? Wasn't this what she had hoped for when she star

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