Irene made it as far as the door and then had to do some shifting to get one hand free.  She opened the door, proud of herself for not spilling anything, and stepped into the room.<br/><br/>She glanced around and saw Sam and smiled.  “Dinner is served, Mr...ummm... Sam.”  She set the tray on the bed and went to pull the little table where Sam had so recently fucked her away from the wall.  She lifted the back drop-leaf and then hurriedly unloaded the food onto the table.<br/><br/>“Try a cucumber,” she said, plucking a chunk from a small bowl and holding it to Sam’s mouth.  “I’ve been smelling it the entire way up and it smells wonderful; so fresh and clean.  But, I don’t want to eat until you do,” she added, waiting until he took the bite before she tasted the vegetable for herself.<br/><br/>“Isn’t it good?” she asked, running into the bath room to grab the stool and bring it to the table.  She brought the chair from beside the bed, taking the pile of clothes from the seat and dropping them to the floor.  Irene set the chair at the table opposite the stool.<br/><br/>She looked at Sam, catching him watching her...perhaps looking at her clothing a bit closely; it was a pretty outfit, light and airy, not like European clothing at all.  Or, perhaps there was a spot from working the bar.  Irene looked down to make sure she hadn’t slopped anything on herself.<br/><br/>“Sam?  Are you ready for dinner?” she asked, gesturing at the table.<br/>