[interesting]

I take the elevator to the seventh floor where her office resides.

As I step off the elevator, I catch the fragrance of fresh flowers drifting down the hall. This floor is in the exclusive care or our most talented maid. She is one of the rare non-Asians working here. At 34 years old, she is still the best looking woman in the entire staff - if not the entire island. Her name is Masha. She comes from Norway. She has been working here for seven years, and she has been in charge of the seventh floor for about two of them. When I came in, I never even considered removing her. Even if she had declined my advances, I would have kept her services without hesitation. She is truly a gem in every which way.

If there's one person with whom I am in love here, it's here. Except that she doesn't do love.

When I first came in and started having sex with the employees, she was actually the one that approached me. She asked why I was doing it, and if she needed to sleep with me to keep her job. I told her the truth: as an employee with a spotless record, she didn't have to worry about her job, that her sleeping with me was not paramount to keeping it. She smiled, kissed me, and then we made love. In the few months we have worked together, I have only had sex three times with her. She is one of the rare few whom I let decide when her time is up.

You may wonder why she gets so much freedom. The truth of the matter is that she tends to the seventh-floor apartments and the Master Suite. She has a satisfaction rating of 99.4% over the two years she has been here. She will do literally anything to make the customers happy. Literally, short of killing someone. There's something in her character that makes her the most devoted employee. She is available 24/7. She is more than a maid - she is a personal servant to the people who lodge in our most expensive rooms.

I love her. Everyone loves her. She is as perfect as can be, and no one challenges that notion. She adores her job, she adores her clients... I wish she adored me, but I have to be content with what she provides. It's always worth the wait, and it's always different.

The first time we had sex, it was in my office. She caressed me for hours before making me come in her hands, and then kept at it until I was hard again, sitting on me, facing me, eyes locked as I penetrated her. It was the most intimate love-making experience of my life. It made me question if I was falling for her, if I wanted to be with no one but her.

The second time, we were actually on a boat with a valued customer, a man wealthy enough to buy our hotel. He was in town for only two days, and all he wanted was to indulge in as much debauchery as possible. She invited ten girls to the yacht for an orgy of food, alcohol, drugs and sex. I was also invited. Our valued customer was quite keen on watching me have my way with all of the girls that had been invited. I spent two entire days fucking, coming, resting, and repeating. In the process, I watched him do the same to most of the girls, including Masha.

What he didn't see was that, after he fell asleep, Masha ravaged me further allowing me to take her in all her holes, even insisting that I spent myself in her delicious ass. I thanked her profusely. Again, once the deed was done and the passion was gone, she became her regular distant self.

The third time was even more intimate than our first. It was strictly the two of us. I had actually invited her on a date (with no relationship obligations tied to it). We ate the best seafood in the world. We talked on the beach, as if we'd been together forever. We walked on the beach in the moonlight. We made love under the stars, in the still of the night. Twice. It was the most quiet, most delicate love-making I had ever done, and it filled me with so much peace afterwards.

It was after that encounter I realized I had slept with three different persons. Masha doesn't have a personality of her own; she becomes whoever she is with at that time. She becomes whatever that person needs. It's a form of mental disease, actually, from what I've read. It makes her the most emphatic person I know. And it makes me ache for her even more. I suppose, in a way, I relate to her.

All of this is still in my mind when I knock at her office door. She is expecting me.