textfiles/sex/EROTICA/A/about.txt

About Small Packages

     Copyright (c) 1994 by Christine M. Faltz; cmfaltz@panix.com

     Permission is given to distribute this electronically, as long
as my name and this notice are attached.

     I had just finished cleaning the ladies' room on the third
floor when I noticed her.  She was about four feet tall, maybe a
little taller.  She was watching me intently, and I nearly spilled
my cart when I realized she was staring at my crotch.

     "What the hell are you doing here, kid?"

     It was 6:45 AM -- the secretaries and boss didn't get in till
around eight.

     "I'm *not* a kid, sir," she snapped, face flushing.

     I took another look.  She sure was no kid -- her tits were a
little too big for her -- and by that I mean she was probably a B
cup.  It looked sort of -- funny -- on her.  Her head was a little
big for her body, too, but she had pretty, blue-gray eyes and
perfect teeth.

     "What are you -- a midget or something?"

     "Or something," she said, turning away and stalking towards
the assistant VP's office.  Donald Slater, the last AVP had died of
a heart attack two months earlier.  His secretary had been fired
soon after; the boss never liked her.  So this must be the new
secretary then.  I felt bad about mistaking her for a kid, so I
tried to start a conversation.

     "Has a new AVP been hired?" I called after her.

     She turned and gave me a scowl.

     "Yes."

     "What's his name?"

"*Her* name is Renee Jendron."

"Oh."

     That was something; never figured the boss for a women's
libber type.

     "Have you met her yet?" I asked as she unlocked the door.

"Yes, I have, as a matter of fact.  We grew up together, went to
school and college together."


"It's not going to be a problem, working so closely with someone
you --"

"No, you stupid, illiterate prick!  *I'm* Renee Jendron, Ms.
Jendron to you!"

     I stared at her as it sank in.  I thought I saw tears in her
eyes, but if I did, they weren't there any more.  Her eyes were
large with anger, possibly hatred.

     "You toilet-scrubbing asshole!  You're trying to figure out
what the fuck your rich, powerful boss is doing hiring a dwarf,
huh?  Isn't that right?  You dare look down on me, questioning my
presence here.  Let me tell you something, you rat bastard!  I
graduated with honors from Wharton with no help from giant egos
like you!  Who are you kidding anyway?  At least I got away from
the circus, where I did stunts for a living, sometimes getting
hurt, just to get the money to put me through school.  Every
college interview was a farce, so I started applying to
universities across the country.  Luckily, I was finally accepted -
- for my accomplishments and merit, rather than turned down as soon
as they got a look at me!  Oh, of course, it was more subtle than
that, you understand."

     Now I was angry.  Who the hell was this bitch anyway?

     "Listen, Peewee Jendron, or whatever the fuck you are called! 
I may be working as a janitor now, but my wife is in medical school
and we've got three kids, two of 'em younger than three.  Everyone
has their problems, and, it seems, their stereotypes.  I made
assumptions about you; I'm sorry.  But you did the same!  So cut
the poor-me act and grow the fuck up!  You have to admit, the boss
is gonna have a hell of a time convincing his clients that you're
capable of this job."

     "Wrong again, asshole.  *I* get the glories and pain of that
job!  No one else!"

     I watched her go into her office and unpack her briefcase. 
She turned on the computer, adjusted the chair to its highest notch
and tried it out.  Too low.  She got up and pulled two phone books
from the closet behind her and tried again.  That seemed fine with
her.  I could tell she knew I was watching, and she was trying to
pretend she wasn't aware of it or at least that she could not care
less.

     A few minutes later, I entered her office.  She wasn't there. 
I took the phone books off of the chair and rolled in a new chair,
one I knew could adjust to the right height without the phone
books.  I put the phone books away and scribbled a note on the
Post-it pad on her desk.  SORRY.  PLEASE ACCEPT THIS AS A PEACE
OFFERING.

     "Oh, so now you're feeling sorry for me, are you?"

     I whirled around to face her.

     "You know something, Renee?  You have a serious problem.  I
know your life isn't too hot, given your circumstances, but a lot
of other people have circumstances they would rather not have,
cards dealt them they hate having to live with.  But that's life. 
You either fight the shit, go against the grain and have faith in
yourself, or you piss everyone off because you're always miserable. 
Sooner or later compassion becomes pity.  After that, indifference. 
Everyone's a fucking victim these days.  I know it's no picnic
being different.  I can sympathize with you.  But give me a break,
okay?  I just met you, and you just met me.  It's not your physical
height that's your biggest obstacle or others' perceptions of it. 
 It's your spirit that has to grow up.  Your soul, your will.  That
can be far bigger than you and far bigger than anyone, if you want
it, if you allow it."

     She looked at me, her mouth open in surprise.  After a moment,
she nodded and smiled.

     "When you're right, you're right -- what's your name, anyway?"

     "Rick."

"I'm a bit -- I'm *very* frightened, Rick.  The boss is my
brother's best friend; that's probably the only reason I have this
chance, despite my resume.  I've never had a job where I had to
work so closely with people outside the office, and I know it's
going to be a steep climb.  I took it out on you.  Sorry."

     We had lunch a few times a month for several months, and we
learned a lot about one another.  I began to notice, however, that
she looked upset when I talked about my wife and kids.  I also
caught her looking at me in a more-than-friendly way several times.

     One night, I had to stay especially late.  I'm usually in at
6 and out by 6, but there was a ruptured pipe which had needed
tending and I had to clean up the carpets to prevent mold.  I had
just finished the last of the cleaning up and stepped into the
boss's bathroom.  He has a little private bathroom all his own, and
every night before going home I take a shower before leaving -- I
hate driving home stinking of sweat, bathroom cleaner and floor
wax.

     I was singing at the top of my lungs, something I do when I'm
alone in the building.  The hot water felt terrific -- I was tired,
but in a great mood.  I would go home, stick some leftovers in the
oven for the wife and kids, then take a nap.  When Lena got home,
I would be waiting for her.  Yes, It had been a while -- she was
studying all the time, and I hadn't had relief from celibacy for
two months or so.  Lena hadn't decided what type of medicine to
specialize in -- I hoped she would choose something that wouldn't
have her rushing off in the middle of the night all the time.

     I lathered myself up good and stood still, letting the water
lick the soap from my aching body.  I felt a rush of cool air and
turned to find the curtain was half open -- and Renee Jendron was
watching me shower and unbuttoning her suit jacket.

     "What the fuck are you doing, Renee?"

     "Taking care of that big problem you're permitting to take up
all that space in the shower," she smiled.  

     Off went her jacket and blouse; she unzipped her skirt and
stepped from it.  She wore nothing else save her stockings, which
she removed.

     I looked at her pussy first; I couldn't help it.  It looked
quite adult, with a patch of dark brown curly hair at the front of
the vulva and a sprinkling of fine, downy hair trailing her labia. 
She was leaning back a little on her heels so that I could see her;
she raised her hand and grasped one of her nipples; it was pointed
straight at me, red, demanding attention.

     This was no kid; there was no mistake to be made about that. 
She was a little on the plump side, but not overweight; to say so
would be inaccurate.  Her labia were dark with her desire.  She
stepped into the stall and reached around me, grasping my cheeks in
her hands.

     She held onto me as she wrapped her legs around my calves; I
could feel her leg muscles; they were very strong -- she obviously
worked out.  Her mouth slid effortlessly onto my just-above-average
cock -- her small mouth had no trouble whatsoever taking me all the
way.  At this point, you're probably thinking: What about your
wife?  Your kids?  What the fuck were you thinking?  That's just
it; I wasn't thinking then; I was feeling, and it felt good.

     She sucked me and licked me, caressed my balls.  I finally
turned off the water; it was starting to run cold.  I came twice in
her mouth and she still kept it up -- literally.  One of her hands
found its way back to my ass, and she slipped two or three fingers
into me -- my wife had never done that, and oh! it felt nice.  I
felt myself building again as she finger-fucked my ass, first slow,
than fast.  She took the soap and lathered up my ass, then turned
the water on -- this took a little work; the handle was half a foot
or so above her.  She cupped her hand and sloshed water against my
ass to get out the soap.  She told me to kneel and dropped off of
me.  I knelt and she slipped between my legs and pulled me towards
her mouth, spreading my cheeks.  She swirled her tongue all around
my ass and I shot my load all over the shower wall in a couple of
seconds.  I couldn't stand it any more.  I slid away from her, shut
off the water again and sat, gathering her to me and sliding my
cock right in.  I felt the tell-tale tear of a hymen giving way and
I stopped at the same instant she screamed.


     "I -- I'm sorry, Renee.  I didn't know -- I thought -- you
seemed to --"

     "It's okay," she said, her voice shaking.  "I knew it might
happen; I just thought it wouldn't hurt so much."

"How the hell did you learn to suck cock like that without getting
fucked?"

"Let's just say it was required of me at a certain point in my
life, and leave it at that, okay?"

     I knew whatever it was, it was bad, and that she had given me
pleasure by using knowledge she acquired through pain.  I began to
withdraw, but she slammed herself back down my length, gasping a
bit.  I kissed her and nipped at her breasts, and when I finally
felt myself building again, I stood, holding her close, and turned
and pressed her back up against the wall of the stall.  I held her
wrists against the wall and I rammed inside her; she was wet enough
and I liked finishing off sex like this.  I dug my teeth into the
side of her neck, and she dug her nails into me and moaned with
pleasure.  

     When we were finished, I inspected myself, and knew I had
better rethink my plans for that night where Lena was concerned. 
She would have to wait this time, until my scratches healed.  She
would probably feel relieved anyway; sometimes it seemed that she
was making time for me, just for me, and wasn't enjoying the sex
because she worried so much about upcoming exams.  I knew I would
never do this again; I mustn't.  But it was nice just the same.  I
just hoped Renee would accept that it couldn't happen again.