I'd been born in Buxton, lived all my early childhood and teenage years there, until I left when I'd reached the ripe old age of eighteen. Now I was all grown up and ready for the world... well I thought so.
I just had to get out of Buxton, it was one of those, small towns where everybody knew everybody, there was nothing you could do that was not known to others in the township.
It was my misfortune that I was highly sexually active, I liked sex, I make no excuses for it... I just happened to be one of those people who liked and enjoyed sex. My virginity went, well when I was young to a boy who was three years older than I... I thought he was the greatest person to walk on this earth... well I did then, I've since changed my mind. The only thing he wanted of course was my virginity and a few sessions of free sex to add to his other conquests.
Had I been born a male I would have been considered a real male hero, a guy who could pull the girls, screw each and every one of them and become the idol of the other males. Those other males would listen in awe as you describe how I'd managed to pull the birds and fuck each and every one of them.
Being a female with similar urges and conquests got you the reputation as a slut.
"Oh my dear that girl is just so common... far too free and easy with who she sleeps with, a real little slut" This and other similar comments were all to frequent from the so called "ladies" of our society... we've all heard them before. Once you do it with one guy, then every guy gets to hear about it and before long you have an entourage of would be escorts, just longing to make a date with you or take you home. Then you have the reputation... the words slut and town bike become part of the vocabulary that is attached to you. In no time the numbers become exaggerated and every man and teenage boy has fucked you.
Yes I did go on dates, and yes they would take me home. I would stand at our back door with my pants pulled down around my knees, whilst my nights escort, thrust into me. My only fear that mum or dad would come out and catch me... they never did. We were fortunate enough to have an outside toilet, as well as two indoors, which made it easy to flush all my used condoms down the bowl, before going inside.
Trying to get employment in the area was almost impossible, hence why most of the town's youth left for other more lucrative places to work.
When I applied for and got what I thought was a good job working in a lawyers office, I quickly realised my reputation had gone ahead and I was soon getting screwed up against the senior solicitor's desk or couch on the promise of furthering my career.
A large hotel in the big smoke, about one hundred miles away, was advertising for a receptionist. Surely my reputation would not have reached that far and I would be judged on my own ability and not my sexual attributes. I applied for the position, went for an interview, but unfortunately missed out, the situation going to another girl. However as it turned out, one of the waitresses had walked out on them and I was offered her position. Well what the heck... I needed a job, I wasn't keen to return to my home town, where I knew I would be back to square one, so I accepted the work. As luck would have it, the departing waitress was also checking out of her flat, which she shared with two other girls, money being rather scarce, this to suited me, so I had employment and I had accommodation. Mum and dad weren't too enthusiastic about me moving away, at eighteen, I was still their little girl. As it turned out I quite enjoyed the work and my flat mates suited me just fine. Big hotels see a lot of people come and a lot of people go. Some you only see once, others are the regulars, the people who travel around on business and maybe visit once a month.
Working as a waitress exposes you to the male population, when they are in groups that's when they are the most dangerous... well dangerous maybe a little strong. When they are out and perhaps off the leash away from home for a few days and wanting to play up a little... you know have a little fun. A young girl is a prime target... especially a waitress. They all think you are just waiting for them to turn up so you could be their plaything. If you knew how to handle them they were never any real problem. Taking their orders, you could almost always count on one who thought he was the number one lover in the world. As he read from the menu he would nonchalantly place his hand on your ass, and start to feel and squeeze it.
Now at this point you could cause a big scene, slap his hand telling he was a pervert, or just accept it for a moment or so.
I would let him have his moment of enjoyment, then when he posed the question.
"Ohhh honey that is a nice tight ass... how about you come up and visit us later" accompanied with a grin.
"Listen sweetheart, go buy yourself a lottery ticket, you'd have more chance of winning that, than me coming up to your room" a nice big smile for him. Invariably he would just laugh, give my bum one last friendly squeeze and pat and say "Hey you can't blame a guy for trying" and smile, like it had just been a bit of a joke. The whole thing had been dealt with. This way no one got too upset, the guy had, had the thrill of feeling my ass, and it nearly always got me a good tip when they left. Still all friends and a thank you as they left the dining room.
Guys like this never bothered me, they were just guys, doing what guys did, out and having a bit of fun.
The other ones were the sports groups, football teams in particular, I'm sure most of us have read or heard on the news from time to time, of girls having been lured up to their rooms and later accusing them of rape. I feel sorry for the genuine ones, but those who flaunted and teased them only had themselves to blame, at least when I went with them I knew what was in store for me.
The ones that really pissed me off, and the kitchen staff, were the ones who were the big noters. The ones who thought they knew it all; we've all met them at some time or other. Never a good word for anything or anybody. "Hey waitress... take this back honey... it's either too cold... too underdone... or overdone" The wine was not chilled enough or too chilled. They were an embarrassment to their friends and to the other patrons, this type I really did despise.
However we did get our share of nice people and one who was a regular guest, was a man called Eddy Pearson. He made a regular monthly visit, always seemed to sit at the same table, order the same meal and bottle of wine. I guess he was around fifty or fifty five, around five foot eight or nine, chubby but not in a fat sort of way, short cropped hair. I think because he was losing it or it was thinning out. I've noticed quite a few guys cut their hair in such a manner as they get older, and it suited him, a weather beaten face as if he spent or had spent time outside or at sea. I'd been at the hotel about four or five months and I came to recognized Eddy as a regular visitor. He seemed a real nice guy, I like him, liked him a lot and we got on well. He was a real interesting fellah, had traveled world wide and was very knowledgeable. He was always chatting me up. I never took him seriously, and I saw him as I did my own father, in fact my father was probably a little younger than he was. He asked if I minded guys patting my ass. I told him it didn't really bother me and that I could handle them, they were just having a little fun
Always being one of the last to leave the dinning room, would take an age over his meal, and then sipped a brandy and a coffee at the end. I always served him; I saw him as one of my favourite people and did not mind hanging back, as I did not finish until eleven. Once the kitchen had closed I had to set all the tables for breakfast the following morning.
On this particular evening, I approached him to see if there was anything else I could get him. Then I noticed the two $100 dollar bills laid side by side on the table.
"Whow Mr Pearson... I've never seen one of those before and here we have two"
"They my little kitten can be yours if you want" He said
I was standing right beside him and I was speechless, the sight of those $100 bills had me a little spellbound.
"Oh yeh, and what do I have to do to earn them" I said, already knowing what he wanted me to do.
It was then that his hand reached out and started to run over my bum, squeezing my buttocks firmly. Something I'd endured many, many times before, but not from Mr Pearson
"You could make an old man very happy... if you know what I mean" He replied, looking me squarely, a slight smile on his face.
Now I did not move, or slap his hand away. I just let him play with my bum and eyed the $100 bills.
"What time do you finish kitten" He asked
"Around eleven... or just after" I replied.
He gave my ass one last feel and a big squeeze.
"I'll see you around eleven then... that is if you want to earn $200 bucks... room 422" he said, picking up the notes, he carefully folded them put them in his pocket, rose from his chair and calmly walked away.
When he'd left the dining room, I flopped into the chair he'd just vacated, it felt warm from his bottom, I took a look around, just to make sure no one had watched the little scene that had just unfolded.
.... There is more of this story ...