The Receptionist

By Lilly Ashwood|April 27, 2022|Post Type|1 comments

Let’s be honest here, for once this story is more fact than fiction. Normally I would write a story about something I wish would happen, something that I thought up while I was jerking off, or even something to help you get off. But this happened.

When I was in my 20’s and going to school to get my bachelors in psychology I had a few different shitty jobs. The first was a very short lived one, around 6 months, where I worked at a Rite Aid. This job sucked a big old bag of dicks, and I quickly moved on.

My second job was also pretty shitty, a lot of sitting around on my ass doing nothing but killing time while working in a medical clinic, but the people were nice for the most part. The best of them was the receptionist.

For the sake of privacy, something I actually have to worry about when telling real stories, we are going to call her Bree. Let me tell you, Bree was hot like with a capital H.

Although she was a bit older than me, I being just an innocent fresh faced kid at the time (though if you believe that I have a bridge to sell you), she had a body that men would kill for. Lush full breasts and an ass that could probably move mountains. She was one of those women that had made it through childbirth and come out the other side hotter than when they went in, either through luck or hard work only they could say. Although she was married at the time that never stopped me from checking her out whenever I got the opportunity, such as say when she was bending down to pick something up… or when I was standing over her talking to her. Now this is not to say that I went full stalker, just you know… a little.

I decided early on, maybe even the first time that I saw her, that I wanted to fuck her brains out. I am thankful that I didn’t say anything because I am pretty sure they fire people for less than telling the hot that you want to fuck her. But all I could see when I looked at her was her, on her hands and knees, sucking my cock. I could picture it each and every time I looked at her, her perfect breasts pushing against my knees, her tight little ass sticking up in the air, her lips wrapped around the head of my cock as she bobbed up and down. I did everything I could to hide my erection that came from seeing her, from talking to her. In fact the more I talked to her the more I wanted her, she wasn’t just hot she was funny and hell she was even smart. When added together her other traits made her even hotter.

Now, instead of just picturing her on her hands and knees sucking my cock behind the reception desk I pictured us sneaking off to the upstairs restroom. She would rip of my uniform, I would rip off her clothes, and we would fuck like animals. I could picture her riding my cock, feeling it slip into her tight little cunt, her hips pressing against mine as I slid my cock into her. I could imagine the sounds she would make as my cock slammed into her, picture her moaning and in a dirty public bathroom while she took a cock from behind by the young security guard. At the time that she was married only added to my lust, the desire to possess her grew. More than once I snuck upstairs to jerk off during a long work day.

She was more than just hot, she was the very embodiment of the term MILF, not only was she a mother, she was someone I wanted to fuck. Let me be clear about that, I did not want to make love I did not want to have sex I wanted to fuck, I wanted rough, passionate sex, the kind that leaves long claw marks on your back, the kind that has the neighbors calling the cops because someone is screaming in your apartment.

My fantasies got more twisted as we continued to interact and as I continued to deal with my sexual frustration. Instead of just wanting to fuck her, I wanted to possess her. I wanted her naked, gagged, and tied to my bed, her legs spread and waiting for my cock. I wanted her to silently beg for my cock. She was both an object of my lust and something to perfect to touch. I never would have been able to make a move to her face at the time. Sure, we flirted, talked about sexual things, but at the time I was much more innocent and I was mostly all talk.

I found out later that my interest was not entirely one sided, Bree told me at one point that she liked the way my ass looked in my uniform pants. We flirted by cell phone, sending pictures back and forth, and god her body was so much better than it had looked in my head. Her breasts were so much firmer, her dusky skin so much more delicious. I ached in every sense of the word, but at the same time I knew utter fear. The girls I had dated and fucked up to that point were just that, girls. They were my peers with little more experience than I had. But this woman, this goddess, she had so much more experience, had undoubtedly been with guys who had rocked her world. What could I, a lowly inexperienced security guard, offer that would set me apart? What would I do if I failed to satisfy her?

At this point I had built her up so much in my mind that if I failed, if I disappointed her, it would have devastated my confidence in ways that might have taken years to repair. So what did I do? I chickened out. I had the chance to make my fantasy into reality and I couldn’t do it. We had even made a plan, I ended up making a lie about getting back with a girlfriend as an excuse for why we couldn’t meet. Now, in my maturity, I realize not only how much of a coward I was, but how much harm I might have done. No one likes being rejected, hell that is half of what I was afraid of, and although I may never know what my selfish and cowardly actions might have caused to someone who did nothing to deserve it, I wish now that I could undo it.

So Bree, if you are listening, I still want to fuck you, I want to make you scream, I want to make you beg. I want to bend you over the bed, spread your legs, and slam my cock inside of you. I want to take a fistful of your hair and bend your body back so you arch your back and expose those perfect breasts to my touch. I want to make you until you cant stand, until you cant remember your name.

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  1. Pingback: The Real Receptionist | My Perverted Stories

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