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I was only sixteen, so I wasn’t supposed to be working the Night Audit. That’s the shift that starts at eleven at night and ends at seven in the morning. You’re supposed to be eighteen to work that shift, but the guy who was scheduled didn’t show up the night before. That happens a lot on the Night Audit. People don’t even bother to quit; they just stop coming to work.
“I don’t have anyone else who can cover the shift, Kayle,” Jason said. Jason was my boss, and what he really meant was that if anyone else covered the shift he would have to pay them overtime. The only thing worse than that would be if he had to work the Night Audit himself, and that wasn’t going to happen. I worked part time at the front desk after school, so there was no fear of me getting overtime. The only other part time person was a single mom, and she couldn’t work because of her kid.
“It’ll just be this one time,” Jason swore. He also promised to pay me an extra dollar an hour and said I could have the next Friday night off. I usually got stuck working Fridays after school. I hated that.
“I don’t know how to do the audit,” I reminded him.
“Cory will be there,” Jason said, “He’ll take care of all that.
“I guess,” I told him, and I immediately texted my friends that I had the next Friday night off. We had met some guys from the school we played in basketball the other night and they invited us to a party on Friday. My friends were planning a road trip and I was pissed that I couldn’t go because of work.
“Thanks a bunch, Kayle,” Jason said, and I could hear him smiling through the phone, “I can talk to your Dad if you need me to. ”
“No, he’ll be okay with it,” I told him. Jason was a friend of my Dad’s, and he was at our house playing poker the night I came home and had to explain that I broke the new iPhone my Dad got me for Christmas. I got the iPhone because I broke the Droid he bought me and swore up and down that if he got me an iPhone I would take better care of it.
“You want a new phone, you can buy it yourself,” Dad said. I expected him to yell, but this was worse.
“I can’t afford an iPhone,” I whined.
“You turn sixteen next week,” Dad said without looking up from his cards, “I suggest you get a job. ” I protested and pouted, but he might as well have been def.
“I need some part-time help on the front desk,” Jason cut in, “You could work after school and on weekends.
“Perfect,” Dad said, throwing down two aces and two queens. I started a week after my Sweet Sixteen.
***
“Whazzup?” Cory grinned when I showed up for the shift. I muttered my hello and rolled my eyes. Cory was Jason’s son. He was eighteen and graduated with my sister, Jamie, last year. Jamie got a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious journalism school. Cory was taking computer classes at the community college.
“How’s your sister?” he asked, “Still hot?” It was the first thing he always asked me. He used to hit on Jamie all the time and she couldn’t stand him. He wasn’t hideous ugly or anything. He was just a big dork. He smoked too much pot and did nothing but play video games. I ignored the question. I always ignored his questions.
“Man, you’re looking pretty hot yourself these days,” Cory whistled as I took my jacket off and tossed it under the front desk with my school bag.
“Piss off, Doucher,” I snorted. He was my boss’s son, but my Dad was his dad’s friend, and my Dad could kick both their asses.
“Cool,” he said, bobbing his head and drumming his fingers on the counter top. He was a douche, but he was either too laid back or too high to get worked up over insults. Or maybe he was just so used to them that he didn’t bother.
It was a slow night. We only checked in two guests; a guy who was so fat he wheezed when he talked and looked like he might have a heart attack before he reached the elevator, and a tall black guy with his hot wife and twin daughters who looked like they were used to staying in fancier hotels. They drove up in a Lexus SUV and the mom had a huge diamond ring on her finger. The girls were super pretty, like miniature versions of their mom, with straight back hair and dark caramel skin. They looked about twelve-years-old, and I wanted them to be snotty brats so I could hate them for being spoiled rich kids, but they actually seemed pretty nice.
“Room 329 and 331,” I said, handing the dad the key-cards.
“Thanks,” he said, and his eyes lingered on my tits before he walked away. I got that a lot when I worked the front desk. I had big tits, 36Ds, and the white blouse that was part of the blouse/skirt-combo uniform was tight around my chest.
“Doucher,” I scowled.
“Cool,” he answered, bobbing his head and drumming his fingers on the counter.
“I’m bored,” I whined. It was barely past midnight; seven more hours to go.
“Wanna light one?” Cory asked. He’d been playing video games on his laptop, and now he reached into his backpack under the desk and pulled out a little baggie. He rolled a joint right there on the front desk and we stood outside the lobby doors passing it back and forth.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” I sighed. It was a little after one and I had just scarfed down two Snickers bars from the vending machine. My eyes were heavy and I just wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep.
“Here, take one of these,” Cory said, offering me a little white pill from a different baggie in his backpack.
“What is it?” I asked, eyeing it suspiciously.
“Just a pick me up,” he said, and he popped one in his mouth, “I gotta get going on the audit.
“Can I play on your laptop?” I asked, grabbing it before he answered.
“Sure,” he said, stuffing money into an envelope and scribbling something on the front in black marker.
“You have a folder on your desktop called, Porn?” I sneered in disgust.
“Ya,” he answered without a hint of embarrassment.
“What’s in it?” I asked.
“What do you think’s in it?” he snorted with derision, “Porn!” Granted, it was a stupid question, but I found it hard to believe someone would be so blatant about having porn on his computer.
“Perv,” I huffed.
“You can check it out if you want,” he said, now printing reports from the front desk computer.
“You’re disgusting,” I said, but I already had the file open. Mostly there were short video clips downloaded from the Internet of girls sucking cock. I watched a few with the volume muted.
My sister, Jamie, was the one who showed me where he kept his passwords written down and where to find the porn files on his computer. He didn’t just have a folder on his desktop labeled, Porn. At first I thought it was weird that my Dad collected porn, but Jamie said all guys had porn on their computers. She also confessed that she liked watching porn, which was cool because it made me feel okay about liking it, too.
Jamie was a great big sister that way. She introduced me to porn, she taught me how to fake menstrual cramps when I wanted to blow school off, she showed me how to mix vodka and Sunny D and carry it around in a water bottle so I could drink in public, she taught me how to give a great blowjob using a carrot, and when I was fourteen, she let me hang out at a party she threw when our parents were out of town. I lost my virginity that night to a guy who said he was a senior but was actually, like, twenty-two. Jamie was pretty pissed at him, but I didn’t mind all that much. I fucked him three more times before he got arrested for dealing weed.
“Here,” Cory said.
“What are those?” I asked, clutching the computer. I was in the middle of a pretty good video of a blonde girl getting fucked by two black guys in a sauna.
“Those are the bills for the guests who are checking out in the morning,” he explained, “You just go around and slip them under the doors. ”
“Your dad said you were going to do the audit,” I complained.
“I did the audit,” he said, reaching for the laptop again, “That’s how it works; one person does the audit and the other person slips the bills under the doors. ”
“Wait a sec,” I whined, closing the video before he could see what I was watching, “There. ” He took the computer and I reluctantly slid from my chair and picked up the stack of bills. “Do I really have to do this?” I whined.
“Ya,” he said, dropping into a chair with his computer, “It doesn’t take long. Just don’t wake anyone. ”
“Doucher,” I muttered under my breath.
The bills were organized by room number, starting on the first floor and ending on the third. It actually felt good to get up and move around. The mixture of the pill he gave me and the porn made me antsy, and I had to fight the urge to go running through the halls with my arms spread like an airplane.
I still had a handful of bills when I reached the south wing of the third floor. The first bill slid easily under the door but the next door was blocked with a towel. It was room 331, the adjoining room to 329. The black guy who checked in with his wife and daughters had both rooms and the twins were staying in 331 with the two full size beds. I could just slip both bills under 329, I thought, but I stopped short of that plan.
The door to 329 was propped open. Not wide open, but enough. There was a wet towel on the floor and it had stopped the door from closing all the way. It didn’t look like it was intentional. There was a dim light flickering inside the room.
Had I not been high, I’m sure I would never have opened the door.
I didn’t make a sound, I was sure of that, but suddenly he looked back over his shoulder, as if he could sense me there. My reaction was slow, dulled by the weed and muddied by the pill. I felt like I was in dream, and I just stared with a startled expression on my face, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
He might have yelled out in surprise or anger, but he didn’t.
The lack of light moved something in my brain, and I took a step back into the hall, trying to pull the door closed. The towel was still on the floor, however, blocking the door. Then the knob pulled free of my hand and his dark face poked out around the door, his eyes wide and questioning. I took another step back.
“Sorry,” I muttered, almost inaudibly. I avoided his eyes, but held out the two bills for rooms 329 and 331 in way of an explanation. He stared at the paper in my hand for a moment, and then opened the door wider. He took the papers from my hand, squinting at them, and exposing most of his naked body to me. His long flaccid dick dangled between his thighs and my eyes were immediately drawn to it. It was ebony black. Black as midnight.
I looked up. He was no longer squinting at the bills. He was looking at me. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open.
“Hang on,” he whispered, his voice deep and course, and he stepped back inside the room with the bills in his hand. He pushed the door softly to, kicking the towel aside with his foot. I didn’t know what he meant by hang on, and I didn’t know why I just stood there outside his door clutching about a dozen more bills I still had to deliver. The idea floated through my fuzzy brain that he was going to get me a tip, like some of the guests did when I brought clean towels or an extra pillow to their rooms, but when the door opened again, he didn’t have any dollar bills in his hand, just his key-card.
He stepped completely around the door this time and silently pulled it closed behind him. I took another step back. He looked down at me with a crooked smile on his face.
“Here,” he whispered, and he reached forward, took me by the wrist, and guided my tiny white hand to his thick black penis. I didn’t resist. I let my fingers curl around the swelling shaft and gasped at the feeling of his hot, throbbing flesh. “Shhhh,” he breathed in warning, and then followed that with a deep guttural moan as my pale fist slid up and down his ebony tool.
“Oh my God,” I hissed under my quickening breath. I dropped the remaining bills to the floor and stepped closer to him, using both hands to jack his cock. It was huge and felt powerful in my grip. My panties were suddenly soaked though and the fuzziness in my brain was gone. I studied his black meat with a sharp clarity that would have made me valedictorian at school.
“Goddamn, Little Girl,” he moaned, and then he was kissing me. His full, thick lips covered my mouth and I parted my lips, tasting his sweet breath and massaging his tongue with mine. “Suck it, Baby,” he whispered, breaking our kiss, and he didn’t need to say it twice.
He stepped to the side, leaning back against the wall. I slid down his body to my knees, rubbing his cock against my face and making love to it with my mouth. It smelled and tasted like pussy. “His wife’s pussy,” I thought, and I imagined her gorgeous body stretched out on the bed while he sank his dark meat into her. She was asleep now, just on the other side of the wall. How could she possibly imagine that the little white girl with her blonde hair and bright green eyes who checked them in at the front desk would be sucking her cum from her husband’s cock? Could those beautiful girls asleep in the next room ever guess that their Daddy might stick his hard dick in the mouth of the girl who smiled so warmly at them?
The thoughts were like fuel on a fire and I devoured his pulsing flesh with abandon. I was a musician and his ebony cock was my instrument. The sounds I made come out of his mouth were proof that I was nothing less than a virtuoso. I kissed and licked and sucked. I cupped and stroked and massaged. My lips and tongue moved from base to tip and back again. I bathed his balls in my mouth and made him praise God with the tip of my tongue.
His large hands tugged at my blouse pulling it loose from my skirt. He wanted my tits. They always wanted my tits. With surprisingly graceful fingers, he popped open the buttons, one by one while my mouth bobbed up and down on his dick. Then he skillfully unsnapped the clasp between my tits. He massaged and pinched my aching nipples making my lips vibrate around his hot pole. I sat up on my knees and squeezed my creamy white flesh around his dark meat. He fucked my tits, and his iron shaft slid like silk between my breasts. I licked and sucked at the purple tip like a game of Whack-A-Mole.
“Make me cum, Baby,” he finally moaned, and grabbing a fistful of my blonde hair, he pushed his cock into my mouth and fucked my face. His dick slid between my lips and into my throat. The drugs helped my muscles relax and I took him easily, breathing through my nose, until I felt him swelling. “Grrrrrrrrr!” he growled desperately above me, trying not to scream. The first scalding blast hit the back of my throat, but before I could clamp my lips around him, he pulled his cock free and spit long, think strands of milky pearls across my tits.
“Oh my God,” I panted, catching his cock between my cum spattered tits.
“You’re wet,” he hissed, dipping his hands between my thighs and finding my fiery cunt. I just nodded. My juices were running down my legs. Suddenly, he pulled me up onto my knees. I gasped when I felt his cock pry apart my aching slit, and he reached around and stuffed my soaking wet panties into my mouth. The cotton muffled my cries as he pushed his way inside my pussy with his huge black cock and fucked me on the floor in the middle of the hallway.
I don’t know how long he fucked me. I came twice, harder than I had ever cum in my life, and was little more than a ragdoll dangling from the end of his dick when he flipped me onto my back. He jerked his cock from inside me, and suddenly he was hunched over me, spraying hot jizz down on my face.
I heard the click of his door.
I used the stairs to make my way down to the front desk. I needed time to collect myself. I was tired and confused. I felt like someone had woken me in the middle of an intense, vivid dream. Nothing felt real. A part of me felt embarrassed, violated even. But a bigger part of me felt alive in a way that almost scared me. I reached the lobby of the hotel wishing I could tell somebody what I had just done.
“Don’t worry,” Cory said with a curious look on his face when I stepped behind the front desk, “I won’t tell anyone. ” His eyes fluttered off to the side and I followed them to the open doors of a cabinet behind the desk. Inside the cabinet were the monitors for the hotel’s security cameras. There were three of them, and the images changed every few seconds showing different views of the hotel. Except for the third monitor. Its image didn’t change. It was stuck on the south wing of the third floor. There was a chord attaching the monitor to Cory’s laptop, and on the laptop’s screen a video file was playing. I watched myself on my knees sucking a huge black cock.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Cory repeated, “I promise. ” He unzipped his pants and I got on me knees.
.
