106

Still naked, I slowly picked up the beeper and clicked on my name.
As I read the room I was requested in, my heart skipped a beat: 106.
Cursing this job for the umpteenth time today, I almost trew the phone back into my locker and started dressing up again.

I hesitated, considering for a second the option to not use the thong or bra at all for my own convenience. I quickly discarded that thought and picked up a new pair of black thongs: with my yoga pants and the tight top scrub I'd only end up showing the lines of my groin and my nipples to those perverts, giving them even more reasons to hit on me.

Before leaving I quickly fixed up my hair and my makeup, then run as fast as I could to the 106. It wasn't so far away and I only had to do one flight of stairs to the top floor, but with my hospital-type shoes it wasn't an easy task.

Mr. Laning had one of the best rooms of the place. They said he was a fairly know athlete in his early days, but ended up wasting a good part of his fortune into gambling. Now little more than sixty years old, he still managed to maintain an incredibly muscolar build for his age.
Unfortunately, he also had a rude demeanor and a really bad temper.

When I reached the 106 I was already almost out of breath. I laid one hand to the doorframe trying to recover, but he was already yelling at me.

"It was about fucking time you showed up!"

I tried to speak while catching my breath, but it was another useless effort. "Sir..sorry...I was.."

He didn't let me continue: "I don't fucking care where you were or who you were sucking off! When I press that button you have to be here sooner, I've been waiting for at least 20 minutes you dumb bitch!"

I was already at a loss of words: "I..I know sir..but"

"Enough! I don't want to hear any more excuses. Get in and close that door"

Cursing my bad luck for receiving his call at the worst possible time, I closed the door and turned myself towards him, my eyes glued to the floor.