Thinking about the holidays this year, I was visited by the ghosts of Christmases past. One in particular was Sharlynn, the receptionist at my first law firm gig right out of school.
Sharlynn was a small town girl, who had moved to the big city for her first real job after high school. A friend, who worked for the firm as a legal assistant, had begged the managing partner to give Sharlynn a chance. Fortunately for Sharlynn she was a lovely girl with blue eyes, wavy blondish hair, and a body that could stop traffic. She always reminded me of Charlene Tilton of television's
Dallas fame.
Sharlynn was a piss poor receptionist, but pleasing enough to look at that most of the lawyers did not complain. She dressed conservatively, rarely with so much as a button undone. She took her lunches in the firm cafeteria, and never joined us at happy hours or other firm events. I asked her friend for a little more information and was told that Sharlynn was very religious, had a boyfriend back home, and did not drink. That pretty much killed my interest right there, but still, when I leaned over the counter to collect my messages, there was something about the way her full tits pressed against the fabric of her blouse that made my mind wander...
The end of my third year of employment was approaching, and thoughts turned to the annual holiday party. Smith & Crawford was a huge firm with offices in five cities. Our branch had completed a banner year, with record fees collected. The managing committee agreed that our city would host the holiday festivities. This was big news for two reasons: All of the top lawyers in the firm from around the country would be our guests, many for the first time, and this would be the first year we'd have an unlimited budget for the holiday party.
The firm chose a major hotel downtown, with food from one of the best restaurants catered, a live band, open bar, and gifts for all guests. Planning on using the event to brown nose some of the firm's brass from New York, I decided not to bring a date, lest my time be monopolized on anything other than schmoozing the higher ups.
I arrived early at the request of my boss, Bob Petersen. He wanted to make sure that every out of town partner was greeted warmly. I was chatting with him about firm events, and my bonus, when I saw his eyebrows perk up. Turning instinctively, I saw Sharlynn enter the room through the revolving exterior doors. Holy shit. Like one of those movies where the geeky girl takes her glasses off and shows up at the prom a stunner, Sharlynn had every eye in the room on her. She wore a white satin dress, cut above the knees, with a plunging neckline that showed her milky D cup tits off to their full advantage. Her hair and makeup were incredible with red pouting lips that just made you want to taste them. Her stiletto heels showed her lovely legs off to my wandering eyes. For a moment, I forgot I was supposed to be working.
Sharlynn approached us and greeted our boss, "Good evening Mr. Petersen." Bob replied, "You look lovely, Sharlynn, ready to help us host this event?" "Yes sir," she replied demurely.
"Well, everyone come over here!" Bob waived to the other half dozen or so employees milling about. A bartender appeared and lined up a shot glass for each present, and poured a shot of Patron Tequila, Bob's favorite. Lifting a glass, Bob said, "To a great year, and a great evening!" To my surprise, Sharlynn picked up a glass, poured the shot through her swollen lips, and smiled. I noticed a slight shudder, and gooseflesh appeared on her arms. The little baby blonde hairs were standing at attention, as were her nipples, clearly visible through the sheer fabric of her holiday dress...
The rest of the party was of little consequence. The food was good, the spirits were flowing, and I got a chance to speak with several members of the executive committee that would be voting on partnership offers the following evening. From time to time, I would see Sharlynn with a group of secretaries and legal assistants near the bar. I didn't keep track, but she had a shot glass in her hand or to her lips more often than not.
"Well, little Sharlynn is tying one on!" I chucked to myself.
The evening was young, perhaps no later than 10:30, when I saw Bob waiving to me from across the room. "What's going on?" I asked. Bob pulled me aside and said, "We've got a little problem developing here, and I need to ask you a favor." "Sure Bob," I replied, "What is it?"
"Sharlynn's had a little too much to drink. Apparently she was in the ladies room getting sick. Veronica says she broke up with a boyfriend this past week, and really overdid it with the drinking... I don't want to put a drunk driver on the road, and I don't trust a cab driver with her in this condition. Do you think you could give her a ride home?" "No problem."
Bob and I waited outside the women's lounge for Sharlynn to appear. Veronica and a shaken Sharlynn finally emerged. She looked a little disheveled, but gorgeously disheveled. "Sharlynn? Jack is going to give you a ride home, OK?" Sharlynn looked at me, focusing her eyes. "Shhuuure." She slurred.
"Great," I thought to myself.
"I miss the party of the year, and little Miss Tipsy will probably sleep the whole way home."I offered Sharlynn my arm and escorted her to the valet area. My Jaguar XJ-S swung into view and Sharlynn's eyes lit up. "I looove Jaguaaars!" she drooled. Smiling I helped her into the car and paid the valet.
“I don’t wanna go home!” Sharlynn announced loudly, gripping my arm for emphasis. “Now Sharlynn, I promised Mr. Petersen I’d get you home safely. Don’t put me in a difficult position.” Speaking of difficult positions, I could feel my cock starting to swell and creep down my trouser leg. Sharlynn's flawless creamy thighs were visible, and I took in the lovely view of her swollen breasts for the first time in private.
“I’ve been in this *fucking* town for a year, and have not been out once!” she sighed. “You look like you know how to have fun... take me somewhere fun for a drink, just one?” The combination of her intoxication, unexpected use of profanity, and stated desire for *fun* were too much to resist, Bob Petersen be damned. “OK,” I replied, “But just one.” I knew full well at that point it was going to be a long night.
Fifteen minutes later we were pulling up to Club X, deep in the warehouse district on the wrong side of town. Here ten different buildings had been converted into underground clubs, some with illegal bars and gambling operations, others with a prostitution trade. Yuppies, drag queens, students, and artists filled the dance floors till four in the morning most nights. The co-ed bathrooms were full of coke heads, and twinks. Ecstacy, cocaine, and weed were sold by the stalls, along with amyl nitrate. Pretty much whatever your vice, you could find it here.
Sharlynn looked around the room like a deer in the headlights. Goths, punks, transvestites, and young professionals all mixed in and out of the room. Something told her she wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
Returning from the bar, I slid a rum and coke across the table and a hit of X. “What’s this?” Sharlynn looked at me inquisitively. “Something to keep you awake, and help you relax.” “Is it dangerous?” “Sometimes... chew it up a little bit before you swallow.” Sharlynn obeyed, nodding her head in time with a techno beat. “You want to dance?” “Sure.”
We walked down the stairs to the dance floor that was made in a pit that once contained a brewery. The walls were lined with steel cages and lights. Sharlynn began to move her hips suggestively, and soon we were dirty dancing, grinding our pelvises together. I watched her luscious tits heave in time with the music, and imagined what they would look like bouncing in time with my vigorous thrusting later.
Cupping Sharlynn’s ass I began to dry hump her mound on the floor. My cock was on fire, straining against my slacks. Sharlynn began panting and soon snaked her tongue in my mouth, where we began to explore each other in a open kiss. "Oh, God... yeeessss!" she purred, bumping back against my hardness with abandon.
“Oh my God! I feel great! I love this!” Looking at Sharlynn’s dilated pupils, it was apparent the hallucinogen was beginning to work. Dancing into a corner, I began to stroke Sharlynn’s ripe body through the silky fabric of her dress. Her nipples stood at taught attention as my boner began to pool pre-cum. I offered her a hit of poppers.
“What’s this?” she asked, grinning big. Her pupils looked like two flying saucers and she could not wipe the shit-eating smile off her face. “Amyl nitrate, or poppers. Hold it to your nose and take a big whiff.” Sharlynn obeyed, swooning to the rush of the poppers. I slid my hand under her dress, between her thighs, and cupped her warm mound. Instinctively, she began to hump against my hand. I could feel the cunt juice soaking her pantyhose. “I love it!” she gasped. “God, I love you! I love everyone in this room, and they love me too!” I could only lay another long wet kiss on her in response.
We danced and drank another 30 minutes, before Sharlynn asked where the bathrooms were. I offered to take her, because Club X was not your typical set up. There was only *one* bathroom for the whole club. The door opened to a large lounge bathed in white light with black concrete floors and curving bench seats in purple fabric. Here, dozens of clubbers smoked, made out, or engaged in idle chatter. On the left, was a doorway to a large shower tiled room with troughs running along the floor on each side to catch piss. Guys urinated standing up, while most girls dropped pants or hoisted their skirts to squat. I led Sharlynn to the piss room, and she took in the scene. At least ten guys were pissing with their dicks in plain view in their hands. Sharlynn looked like a dog at the butcher shop window. “It’s not polite to stare, love,” I interrupted. Sharlynn watched a stunning red headed girl shoot a perfect stream of piss into the trough while squatting with her skirt around her waist. “I don’t think I can do this. Is there a normal bathroom here?” She turned and raised her eyebrows.
The “normal” bathroom was anything but. Ten stalls, separated by clear glass block walls. Each stall was monitored with a camera, and televisions screens overhead rotated the scenes from the adjoining stalls for everyone, including the guests in the lounge, to see. The piss room was for pissing. The toilets were for sex.
We waited for a stall. A beautiful lezlita couple emerged, kissing and rearranging their clothing. I opened the door and followed Sharlynn in. “What are you doing?” she asked. I pointed to the overhead camera... “You might have more privacy with me here than alone.” She hiked her skirt and sat on the toilet, as I leaned over her. I heard Sharlynn gasp, and looked to my left. Through the glass wall we could clearly see a huge black gay feeding his cock to a feminine Latino twink. “Like that?” I leered. “I’ve never seen one before.” “You’ve never seen a cock before?” “I’ve never seen a blow job before,” Sharlynn panted. “That’s what it’s called isn’t it?” “Look over there,” I replied. In the stall to the right of us, a tall brunette was being eaten out by a petite blonde. “Oh my God, is everyone here gay?” “We’re not, are we?” I unzipped my slacks and let my engorged prick bounce free. It throbbed in front of Sharlynn's saucer eyes, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. She wet her lips. “No,” panted the young blonde, “we’re not.” “Suck me baby... Time for you to learn what sucking cock is all about.”
Sharlynn opened her red lips and I slowly worked my shank into her mouth. Knowing that I was probably the first man to ever do this, made it ten times as exciting. Sharlynn moaned, as I fumbled with her dress and began to play with her nipples. I looked above at the ceiling and saw the grayish image on a video monitor of my cock fucking my favorite receptionist’s face.
“If Bob Petersen could only see this,” I thought.
”He’d shit.”“Do you like that?” I grunted. “Yes.” “You’re such a good cock sucker Sharlynn. Say, ‘I love sucking cock.’” “I loooove sucking cock.” “Say, ‘fuck my mouth.’” “Fuck my mouth.” It was apparent Sharlynn was totally obedient at that point and would do whatever I asked or suggested for the rest of the night. I began to suggest she suck my nuts, and finger my ass. She did. Perfectly. I noticed our neighbors had stopped their activities, and were now staring through the glass walls at us. The amphetamine in the X had me wired and I was hammering my cock into Sharlynn’s mouth relentlessly. “You’re a little cock hungry whore, aren’t you?” “Yes.” “Yes, what?” "I’m a cock hungry whore. Give me your cock. Fuck my face. Fuck me!” I pulled out and splattered a long stream of cum on my young lover's face. Applause erupted in the neighboring stalls. Now it was our turn to reposition clothing.
“Give me your panties and leave the hose. You won’t need them where we are going.” I took the sodden thong and held it to my face. It was coated in Sharlynn’s cunt juice and smelled heavenly. She pulled her dress up and adjusted the straps. “Where are we going?” she asked. “My place,” I replied.
Ecstasy, MDMA (3,4-Methylenedioxymethamphetamine), also works like a truth serum. In the car on the way to my loft, I made Sharlynn lift her skirt and show me her pussy. She had two fat puffy outer lips, and no meat curtains. Her light brown bush was trimmed closely. I made her tell me when she grew hair on it (age XX), when she had her first period (XX), and when she first masturbated (also XX). I made her tell me how many boys had seen her pussy or touched it (3). I made her confess that she liked to masturbate with a hair brush handle, and the shower massager. She told me she’d cum in the shower that very afternoon, and that Bob Petersen was the object of her fantasy. I made her admit she’d thought about fucking Bob Petersen and showing him her pussy like she was showing it to me. I also made her tell me the nastiest thing she’d ever done (masturbated with a prayer candle in a school toilet stall). The entire time I was rubbing her clit feverishly, shoving two or three fingers in her pussy at a time, all while she moaned and writhed on the bucket seat. By the time we got to my place, she’d cum three times in fifteen minutes.
We stepped into my place, frantically removing our clothes. Sharlynn’s creamy skin looked fabulous in the pale illumination of my darkened loft. Her tits were full and firm, with pale areolas and nipples that stood up like two pencil erasers. Her skin was taut and flawless. I backed her over the couch and started kissing her again, while I ran my swollen cock head up and down her cleft. Sharlynn let out a load moan as I crammed my distended staff deep in her cunt. “You love a big prick in your tiny cunt don’t you girl.” “Yes, I do.” “Say, ‘Fuck me.’” “Fuck me! Fuck my cunt!”
This isn’t a love story. What happened for the next four hours was some of the most brutal, animalistic sex I have ever engaged in. We fucked on the floor, on the balcony, on the bathroom counter, on the bed. I shoved vibrators and butt plugs in Sharlynn while she begged for mercy. I took her vaginal and anal cherries and just kept plugging. I spanked her, bit her, and covered her tits in hickies. My dealer’s X had the remarkable effect of making me extremely horny, but almost immune from climaxing. I did a line of coke off Sharlynn's tits, and she responded by doing a line off my cock. Finally, as the sun came up, Sharlynn bounced up and down on my almost raw prick, and I shot a fourth huge load of seed into her unprotected vagina. Sharlynn moaned and collapsed on my chest, covered in sweat, cum, and feces. The room smelled like a five dollar whorehouse.
I awoke with a start and looked at the clock. It was 11 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Sharlynn still slept on my chest. My morning wood was wedged in her vagina, and I slowly started to slide it in and out, caressing her ass and running my fingertips up her spine. I kissed her forehead, as I began to fuck her again in earnest.
“Wha...?” Sharlynn jerked up. “Where am I?” She felt my cock in her cunt, the virginal cunt she’d been saving for a husband until the night before. “Oh my GOD! Jack! Oh! What did we do?!? Oh! Where are my clothes? Oh God! Oh God!!!” I tried to calm the young blonde as she flayed about. Her tits were jiggling with her movements, making my prick even harder, if that were possible. Sharlynn looked at my drooling cock, and surveyed the room. There were clothes strewn about, along with vibrators, butt pugs, hand cuffs, a riding crop (my favorite), Astroglide, KY, and the porn tapes we’d watched. My creampie was still leaking from her very tender and well fucked pussy and ass holes. My hickies covered her tits, and her nipples had to be tender from the torture I had inflicted on them in the dark.
“Oh God!” Sharlynn began gathering her clothes hurriedly. “Hey, calm down. Let’s have some breakfast and I’ll give you a ride home,” I implored. “Oh no, oh no, I’ve got to go. What have I done?” She was almost sobbing, as she ran to the kitchen and put on her dress, sans the panties which were still in my pocket. “Sharlynn. Let me give you a ride home.” “No, I’ll call a cab.” “Do you have any money?” “No.” “Let me at least give you cab fare.” I held out $40 bucks that she snatched from my hand, as she ran out the door... purse in one hand, shoes in the other.
I didn’t make the office meeting. The following Monday a letter on my desk congratulated me for being selected for partnership effective January 1. Sharlynn called in sick on Monday, but was back at her desk before week’s end. Every time I walked by her desk she’d blush. I’d smile. Of all the lawyers at Smith & Crawford, I alone knew what sexual depravity lurked in our small town receptionist’s heart. I kept her thong in my desk and jacked off with it on the few occasions Sharlynn wore something a little more revealing to the office.
Sharlynn did not return my phone calls. Bob once told me, “Don’t shit where you eat, and don’t fuck where you make your money.” We had both broken our rules. Hers for religious reasons, mine for career ones. I finally decided it was best to just take it for what it was: a random hookup that would lead to nothing else.
Shortly after I was installed as partner, and given an exterior office with my own secretary, Sharlynn came to see my new place. She told me that she’d been accepted at flight attendant school and was leaving the firm in a few days.
“You never called me back, but thanks for a night I won’t soon forget,” I said. “It’s a night I won’t soon remember,” she replied, “well... I remember some of it, but that was so *not* me.” I chuckled, “Well, you fooled me. Good luck in flight attendant school. How about a goodbye kiss?” She feigned indignation, “You’re *terrible* Jack! Good bye.” With that, I watched one of the tightest asses I would ever fuck, spin and walk away.
Still, years later, on certain holiday nights, as the annual firm party approaches, I still think about Sharlynn’s tit's shaking in time with her animalistic grunts and entreaties to “Fuck me! Fuck me harder!” Taking another sip of eggnog, I realize those ghosts of Christmases past will always be welcome.