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She told me she lost her cherry sometime in the seventh grade, never to look back. By the time she was a freshman, she had a reputation as a goodtime...girl. It was said, and probably truthfully, that if a guy couldn't get laid with Linda, he was either a eunuch or gay.Linda didn't seem bothered by her reputation; there was almost nothing that rattled her. She was always happy and friendly, and through her experiences, she'd developed a rapier wit. Woe to the poor soul that decided to insult. That thought brought Trish back into the present. No wonder Mr. R was being patient and amused. The bride was going to need a dresser. This sort of possibility was why Trish had applied to the Plaza. It was as close to a lady’s maid as she was likely to come.Trish tried to thank Mr. R but she had reached the limit of his tolerance. Work waited for no one, least of all her. Trish was almost physically evicted from the office. She missed the knowing grin on Johnathan Rodger’s face. This was not. You're shocked, and scared. You look down the hall to see if anyone is around, but it's deserted. You can't see all the way down the hall, though, because it curves very gradually - you can only see eight or so rooms in each direction and you're worried because you think you hear noises. You realize that about fifty feet to the left what you thought was a doorway is an elevator, and the light on the wall has lit up - the doors are getting ready to open. You look around, terrified, trying to. I slide my tongue into her mouth and tasted her tongue as she leaned back. I follwed her down, as her she spread her legs, on ont he floor, the other on the couch. I slide between them, kissing her, holding her head in my hands again. She whimpered into our kiss.My hand slide down her face, along her neck and down her side. I trailed over her hip and to her bare leg. As my hand slide back up it slide under her shorts a bit, getting caught. Her body arched beneath me. I knew she wanted this even.
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