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I get my man.
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I had to have him, it was as simple as that, he was gorgeous, you understand, six foot two, powerful, dominating, dark hair, an infectious laugh, dazzling smile, he strode towards me, and there he was, blocking out the sunlight, he grabbed two glasses of champagne from my tray, emptied them in an instant and walked off ignoring me, not a second glance. My legs wobbled, my knees started to buckle, my hair bristled and well, you know I had to nip to the loo and sort myself out with my fingers, I was so turned on.

I guess he just did not notice me, I never had developed like my classmates, I seemed to have shrunk as they had grown, Sarah whom I shared clothes with once was 32C I barely filled a B cup, and at five foot two I was no Jerry Hall, so it should have been no real surprise that he did not notice me in my less than sexy black waitress dress, white blouse and flat soled shoes.

He was playing Polo, you know where they ride little ponies and whack little balls with long handled mallets, he was an upcoming star of his father's team, and as the old man was becoming a bit slow Raymond was upholding the family honour, spectacularly, out playing the Argentinean professionals in this sport of kings.

He was playing so well that he threatened to overshadow the Royal Princes who had come the short distance from their Gloucestershire country home to compete, (to see who could pull the most girls in an afternoon,) or so it appeared. They did not notice me either, but I did not care, Raymond would be mine.

I had been practicing for the area athletics event to be held a few weeks later, 5000 metres, half marathon, that sort of thing, I had no money much which in a weird sort of way helped, Dad did his best to help out, but after Mum walked out he struggled to keep a roof over our heads and often worked Saturdays, which is why I had run the eight miles to this work, in my tracksuit with my work clothes in a backpack, I took a dip in the lake, in case you think I was all horrible and sweaty in my waitress uniform, and I planned run back later.

My plans changed when Jill who was working the opposite side of the same marquee to me, let slip that she was working that evening at the Royal Hotel and that Raymond and his on/off girlfriend Rosalyn had adjoining suites there, she worried that the event was running late and she would be late for her shift. We chatted some more and she agreed to take me to the Royal and see if they needed any casual staff that evening.

As it happened the Royal were desperately short handed and within minutes I was serving, bringing the dishes from kitchens to dining room, so I would not tip the food down someone's Armani suit.

I helped clear away then they trusted me with the drinks tray, Management always preferred less well endowed waitresses for this as they seemed to suffer far less "accidental" spillage of drink down their cleavage! The Band played long forgotten dances from the time of the Raj, Gilbert and Sullivan even and drunken rich morons groped each other in three four time as they staggered artlessly around the floor.

Raymond came to me several times for Champagne, and Rosalyn she with the big boobs, wobbling like a cows udders, her fake smile, fake tan, fake nice personality, she pushed me aside to get to one of her supposed friends, I would push her aside later, Bitch.

I phoned Dad to explain I would stay over, and not to worry and gradually the party died as guests headed for their beds, an older guy hit on me and I said I would be delighted to join him as I was thirteen and had not done it before. He went white as a sheet made his excuses and ran away as quick as his bloated body could carry him.

I checked out the upper floors, my uniform being a pretty good camouflage, and heard Raymond and Rosalyn arguing, they were in adjoining suites 3 and 2. Looking out over the Park at third floor level, I was in luck, a continuous ledge ran around that face of the building so all I had to do was get access to it and I could get in their rooms.

The third floor Linen cupboard had an opening window so pretty soon I was edging along the ledge, fifty feet above the unyielding Tarmac and parked Porches and Bentleys, but whatever challenge it may have presented to SAS troopers and James Bond to me it was like a Motorway, wide and strong, I took no chances and soon found Rosalyn's room, it was empty, but as I went to move on I heard the Lavatory flush in the en suite Loo and a very different Rosalyn to the one from the papers appeared, her nightgown opened to reveal that not only had she neglected to wear panties but that she was not a natural blond, luxuriant black pubic hair clustered around, cut and shaved into a heart shape usually hidden from the paparazzi by bikini bottoms.

Rosalyn staggered drunkenly to her bed.

Raymond's window was slightly open and being a Victorian type balanced vertical sash type I easily opened it and clambered into his room, he was in bed, snoring, I climbed onto the bed, he ignored me. I pulled back the bed covers and undid his Pyjama jacket, I marvelled at his strength and the beauty of his torso, I suppose this was the moment of truth but I just wanted him so badly that I guess I did not think twice about striping off my dress and panties and I slid into bed beside him.

His Pyjama pants were a problem but they came off in the end and his prick stirred as soon as I kissed the tip, it stiffened beautifully, I worried slightly it would be too big for me, but as he slept on I positioned myself above it as best I could, spread my pussy with trembling fingers and as beads of anticipatory moisture dripped from me I lowered myself and made him mine. He shot his load far too quickly, but It would be better next time and the quantity of cum and the mess it made was wonderful, I smeared it in my hair, over my face and dipped all my clothes in it and even tore the dress for effect, then I locked the doors and hid the keys under the carpet in a corner of the room and climbed into bed happy.

He stirred an hour or so later, confused, I held his prick coaxed it to life and he gratefully followed as I guided it between my legs, he nearly crushed me when he started thrusting but, it was better than I could ever have imagined, Ok I only had my dildo to compare him with but wow.

"How much do I owe you" he asked as he woke me.

Owe me, I would have gladly have paid him.

I faked a tear "You said you would take me with you to America."

He went white, "So you're not a prostitute?"

Oh yes I was "No I just help out s a maid and you pulled me down when I came with room service."

He imagined what had happened. "I'm sorry."

I continued "Dad will kill me he is always on about underage sex."

He looked worried, "Underage, how old are you?"

I took a big chance "Fourteen Sir"

He was shaking "Were you a Virgin?"

I smiled coyly "Oh no sir, I used Mums old Vibrator."

"Stop that" he shouted as I stroked his prick to hardness.

I whispered, "You liked it last night when I kissed it, you said something about, Oh I forget now then you lowered me down like this."

I knelt above him and sank down, his eyes widened as he saw his length slide out of sight within me. "Stop, please Stop." he cried uselessly as he put his arms around me and hugged me close, he came too soon again, filling me completely and spurting out around the root of his pick.

"Will you take me to America now please." I asked

"Look the only place I am going is Prison if this gets out, I will pay ten thousand dollars, if you pretend nothing happened."

I looked hurt I hope. "I thought you loved me?"

He blustered, "All right how much?"

I tried my best little girl lost expression. "Will you be my boyfriend?" I kissed his Prick licked some of the lovely salty cum, "Please".

There was a knock at the door, "Come in" I shouted to his dismay, the door opened and a Waiter entered with a silver tray,

The Waiter seemed flustered, "Miss Rosalyn ordered," he was cut short by Rosalyn entering through the connecting door. She started to say something, but her jaw just about hit the floor, "You Bastard," she lunged across the room and I barely had time to swing my foot round to kick her in the face before she cannoned into the bed, I guess my heel caught her nose because there was a crack and blood was running down her face.

She collapsed, in a heap, her breasts and buttocks wobbling obscenely through her transparent negligee. I realised Raymond had put his strong arms around me to protect me.

She sobbed, "Just because I would not let you near me last evening, you do this"

Raymond sighed, "Ros, you know it was not like that, I had too much to drink, nothing happened."

Rosalyn held a cushion to her probably broken nose and sobbed "It's over."

Raymond still held me, "You can let go now" I advised but he held me firm.

He kept his grip. "You lot bugger off give is some privacy, she's costing two fifty an hour" and as the door closed he kept me pinned down and took me on his terms, he was so masterful and demanding, it was wonderful, like being in heaven, apart from being crushed and almost unable to breathe but he would learn.

And so Rosalyn left in an ambulance, he left amid rumours of a high class prostitute, and I ran home. I washed my uniform and mended the tear before anyone saw.

The week dragged by, I was doing three days a week in the Farm Shop between A levels and university, while Raymond thought I was fourteen and studying for my GCSEs! The next weekend we met up at the Royal, he hired a Vauxhall Corsa as the Aston Martin was too showy and he bought me some "More Grown Up" clothes at Marks and Spencer, and some at the specialised Lingerie store.

The second week he had arranged for my hair to be done and eventually he was prepared to take a chance on being seen out with me, we dined at Mc Donalds!.

The third week he was to be in America but Tuesday before her flew out we met in woodlands when I was training, an old Airbase air raid shelter with a filthy mattress but it could have been a five star hotel or a New York sidewalk because we only cared about the sex and each other, we did it again the Wednesday he returned, I had worried he would find me a turn off as I had run four miles to get to the woods but he was sweating every bit as much as me when we had finished.

The end came when I took calculated risk and allowed my picture to go in the Local Paper, I needed some sponsorship, so the week before I was to run in the 5000 metres trial I let a reporter do an interview.

He read it. Raymond, he knew he had been duped, and I thought I saw him at one stage of my race, but with no real sprint finish I was trying to keep the gap back to second too big for anyone to get across, it worked but Alicia who was second knocked two seconds off her personal best to get beaten by point oh five, so it was too tight for comfort, and then as I recovered there he was, Raymond.

He swept me up off my feet and kissed me, in front of about a hundred people, told the press we were getting married and that our engagement had to be kept secret because I had been trying to get sponsorship, and that he was not quite sure what good international publicity for a back street Honda Moped dealer would do but then that was not their fault, and so that's why my last ever race, ended with my picture splashed across magazines from Runcorn to Rio de Janiero.

It was not so much the fact we had sex at the stadium. that got me banned from the club, it was more the fact that it was in the Ladies changing room when thirty other ladies were changing, but as Ray said, his balls would have burst if he had not relieved the pressure, and there we were his bum on view, trousers down, me pushed up against the wall, crotch of my shorts pushed aside him imbedded in me and the girls cheering us on, officials trying to separate us, pandemonium, I was so excited I did not know what to think or do floating on cloud nine oblivious to all around, magical memories.

We broke the seat on the Aston coming home, Ray was making the seat go up and down as he thrust into me when the motor started smelling hot and packed up, apparently the Vantage model has a bigger motor as this is a common problem when people use the seat motors as a sex aid.

My sponsors "Sids Scooters" had their two minutes of fame, Rosalyn's father realised where his lazy cow of a daughter chucked away her chance of becoming a "Lady," and Ray and I got married real quietly in Raymond's Dad's private church, I think we made £100K profit after selling the odd exclusive which was nothing of the kind, and life went on.

Of course my wedding pictures had to be airbrushed to hide the bulge, but at least it gave me something like decent breasts for a while, and once we had Freddie and Alex, The heir and the spare, then I got back into training.

And soon after I got back into training we met this formula one guy who was into, like whips and stuff, but that's another story.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 14 years ago
TERRIBLE.

Sorry but your narrator was an awful person, and the end of Rosalyn was depressing: If Rosalyn was supposed to be a good antagonist, then we needed to be satisfied when she got kicked in the face. But no, I wasn't. Watching her get kicked in the nose and leave crying, and knowing that the narrator took pleasure in it, is downright cynical. You obviously want the readers to hate Rosalyn, but instead, I wanted to beat the crap out of the narrator and THEN comfort Rosalyn after she left in that ambulance. That's a sign of a bad writer.

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