She had never written them about blowing Al Gunderson, of course, although the thought had occurred to her and made her feel devilish.

She decided that logistics decreed that she apply for the job first and, if she got it, arrange to rent the room. She was looking forward eagerly to getting out of this seedy, shabby, sordid living arrangement.

She wondered if Al Gunderson would expect a blow-job in lieu of notice.

The thought made her giggle.

Maybe she would, just for old times' sake.

She sorted through her meager supply of clothing and chose a demure sort of dress that seemed appropriate, showing off her splendid body attractively and enticingly, but in a modest and innocent fashion.

Before she got droned, however – as a sort of afterthought – she lay back down on the bed to give her cunt a quick and efficient hand-job.

Although Crystal disliked the circumstances and the necessity of doing it, she had to admit that it usually left her feeling horny after she'd sucked Al's cock and drank his cum-load.

If he'd been a nicer guy – not necessarily more handsome, just more pleasant – and less demanding and crude, Crystal would probably have sucked him off of her own free will, and enjoyed it a lot more.

But Gunderson was Gunderson, and such things were not meant to be.

Crystal spread her shapely thighs and arched her slender back and began to rub her clit. She didn't bother with any foreplay or preliminary caresses, ignoring her stiff nipples and not even finger-fucking her hot cunt-hole.

This was simply an efficiency frigging, to take the heat and the pressure off – and preventive, as well, to keep her from creaming in her panties, which would have been terribly embarrassing during a job interview.