Red-Headed She-Devil

 
Redhead

Reenactment of DM at office Christmas party

Long before I met my wife, I worked for a somewhat large company which I will not name.  I was single so I would flirt with a few co-workers and eventually got a reputation as the office ladies’ man.  Although it wasn’t true, the moniker was flattering.  I’ve never really been attracted to blond girls, which if I recall, most of the single women in this office were.  I guess the fact none of these women were really my type gave me a bit more confidence to be extra charming and witty.   I met up with some of them after work, but beyond a few long nights and a couple of drinks, I made it clear I wasn’t looking for a relationship.   Not with them at least.  Soon I’d try my luck with the district manager, a slightly older redhead, who would stop by our office every few Fridays to make sure things were going okay.   I am not sure if it was the power of her being my boss or her hot little body that tempted me to flirt, but I know it wasn’t her red hair.   Since I was a kid I’ve had this fear of redheads.  I am not sure if in preschool or day care I had a redhead that would watch over me, possibly beating me if I yelled too loud or ate a crayon or something.  Some kids were afraid of clowns and creepy dolls, I was afraid of redheads.  Although I knew I shouldn’t have, I’d always compliment my DM’s outfit and asked if she was staying in town for the weekend.  Of course she’d say no, she was just in town for the day.  I’d act disappointed, but really it was all a game.  Like with the other ladies in the office, I wasn’t interested, especially with her being a bit pale and redheaded.    One Friday, the district manager was in town.  She came into my office and as usual, she asked how things were going and I replied, “They are going great now that you are here.”   I smirked a bit, knowing my little flirtations wouldn’t amount to much.   “So, are you going to stay in town this weekend or am I going to have to drive up to your place?”   I laughed again and sort of winked as I said it.  I figured that would be that, she would decline and move elsewhere in the office.  

Instead, she immediately replied, “Actually, I was thinking about you before I came down and decided to myself, if Mr. Smith asks me out to dinner tonight I will accept.”   

WHAT THE FUCK.   You have got to be fucking kidding me.   I said that in my head for sure, but my mouth said, “Sounds great!” 

If you’ve seen the movie “3 o’clock High,” that’s how I watched the clock.  It seemed to move in double time.  For the rest of day, I noticed the DM walking casually stopping and looking in my office.  I tried to avoid eye contact, but it seemed like she stand there until I looked up and smile.  My smile was an uncomfortable smile, but I don’t think she noticed.  Hers was a controlling, overbearing grin.   I felt like I was five-years-old again and hungry for crayons.  My fear kicked in and I absolutely did not want to go out with this woman.   As the little boy inside my head told me to run for the door and leave my cell phone on the office desk so she couldn’t call, the grown man told me to man up and get over my fears.  It wasn’t like I had to fuck her or anything.  Sit through dinner, get out as fast as I can, and enjoy the rest of my weekend.

That afternoon, as we were closing up the office, she asked if we should ride together.  She suggested leaving her vehicle there and picking it up later.  I told her that may not be a good idea because of office gossip.  I suggested we take our own vehicles and meet at the restaurant.   I knew I had to get there first so I called her from the car and gave her bad directions.   This gave me plenty of time to get inside the bar and grill and work the bar a bit.   

After she showed up about 30 minutes late, I was definitely buzzed and feeling great.  The restaurant was a bit dark, and she looked a bit less pale, and a bit more brunette.  The alcohol was kicking in.  I thought to myself, Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.   She sat next to me and ordered a salad and a pina colada.  I apologized for the wrong directions and asked where she was staying for the night.  She looked at me and said, “Your place.”   I laughed a bit and she made a joke about me wanting to get drunk before dinner.  I played it off and replied, “I couldn’t handle a woman like you sober.   You make me too nervous.”   She laughed and said she was warned about the office flirt.   

After about 30 minutes of small talk and drinks, she asked if we could go to my place.  I panicked a bit and told her I live with my parents.  Although I had been out of my parents’ house for years, my drunken mind couldn’t think of a better answer.  She laughed hysterically and patronized me.  “Oh, the big office ladies’ man lives with his parents!”  She laughed again.  “How does coming back to the boss’ hotel room sound?”  I felt trapped, especially because she was my boss.  I responded that I would make sure she got to her hotel safe and that I had to be home early tonight.  Tipsy, she replied that I was so young and probably had a curfew.   I didn’t respond, but she then added, “It’s okay, I imagine this won’t take long.”   I assumed she meant finding a hotel, but I guess it could have been regarding my age and me not lasting long in bed.   

We left the restaurant and headed to a hotel.  She came out to my car after she got her room and asked me to come inside.  My buzz was already wearing off and she was turning back into the abusive pre-k teacher that used to beat me with a ruler.   I declined and reminded her that it may be a bad idea with her being my boss and all.  She looked at me and said “If you were smart, that’s the exact reason it’s a good idea.”  

Was that a threat?  I wasn’t sure, but a bit foggy-minded, I agree and went up to her hotel room.  As I walked into the room she shut the door behind me and tried to rip off my shirt.   Unlike the movies, my polo shirt didn’t have buttons to rip away, and I almost fell to the floor after she yanked.  It was almost like a hockey toss.  I asked what the hell she was doing and she responded drunkenly me to shut up.   I felt trapped by this she-devil and suddenly had an urge to escape.  My fear had come full circle and although she thought what she was doing sexy, I was terrified.  She ripped off her skirt and panties before I could get off the floor.  I tried to get up but she immediately hopped on top of me and shoved her panties in my mouth.  I tried to gag them out but she is held her hands tightly over my face, clawing her fingernails over my cheeks.   She then stood up, putting her foot on my throat.  I saw her bright red bush hovering over me and turned my head to the side like a baby refusing his medicine.  She immediately squatted down and I saw what appeared to be a dagger wound between her thighs covered with red hair.   This was my worst fear and the ugliest vagina I had ever seen.  She rubbed herself on my face, demanding me to stick my tongue inside her.  I refused and tried to get out the words, “condom…..”    She seemed to ignore my request and forced my pants down to my knees.  She pulled my penis out from my boxer hole and forced her mouth on it.  I tried my hardest to not enjoy, but the sensation was too much.   I again asked her to please let me get a condom, and she finally stopped and acknowledged me.  She turned around and said I have one minute.    I got up and waddled to the bathroom with my pants around my ankles.  I was unsure why I didn’t leave immediately.  Whether it was the alcohol reasoning or just the fear, I told myself to put on two condoms and fake ejaculate as soon as I could.  She knew I was young and wouldn’t last long, she insinuated that herself.  I got myself situated and walked out of the bathroom.  I kicked off my pants, which were still down around one leg and looked around the corner.  She jumped out again, fully nude, and threw me on the bed.   I saw her breasts for the first time, but I couldn’t see her nipples.  I am not sure if her nipples matched her pale skin tone, or if she had a thousand nipples that look liked freckles.  Either way, I decided to just close my eyes and think of another woman.

She hopped on me and forced her vagina down on my semi-hard penis. She looked down at me and said she was going to fuck me better than I had ever been fucked.  Her breath smelled awful.  If I could mix a tad bit of ginger with some alcohol and a truckload of horse shit together, that would be her breath.   I felt nauseous.  I began to count down in my head, “10 missisippi, 9 mississippi….” As slow as possible, preparing to fake cum.   I would have started from a higher number but I wasn’t sure if I could stay conscious long enough to finish my count.   Unsure of how to fake an orgasm, I began to twitch and moan.   I yelled out that I was cumming and she immediately started to choke me with her hands.  I remember her saying something like, “You little bitch boy, my pussy is so good you can’t hold your sperm in your balls for five minutes for me?”  I nodded and continued to twitch.   Although my penis was never fully erect, it was progressively getting more flaccid the longer I saw her nude on top of me.   As she felt my penis slide out of her, she got up, laughed and said, “Office flirt huh?”  and slapped my ass. 

I got up, feeling a bit confused and went to the bathroom.   I took my time hoping she would be able to put some clothes on before I got out; I really didn’t want to see another redhead in my life, especially nude.  I took off both condoms and threw them in the trash.  I washed my crotch with soap and hot water, as hot as I could stand it.   I am not sure why she would leave her own room, but maybe she will just leave town or something.  I walked back out into the room and she was lying on the bed fully nude, both legs up in the air with her ass and vagina exposed, rubbing herself.   As I glanced I noticed that her anus looked like a fish mouth with bright red lipstick covered with a red goatee.   She demanded I come lick her everywhere and get her off.   I felt extremely sick and told her I had to leave.   She got up immediately and said, “Fine then, you selfish fuck.”   She walked to the bathroom and slammed the door.  I grabbed my pants and searched around for my shirt.   When I found my shirt, she stormed out of the bathroom holding both condoms in her hand.  I asked her what she was doing and she said, “YOU DID NOT CUM IN THESE!”   Playing dumb, I asked if there was a hole in it.  She then said, “No, there is no hole, I don’t see any cum in here at all.”   A bit startled, I asked her if she seen Finding Nemo.   As men, we dump our semen down the toilet in the slight chance one of our boys make it to the ocean.  She then said, “I smelled both of them, there is no semen smell!”  

I quickly replied, “I eat a lot of pineapples.”

She then looks at me with her evil eyes and says, “I tasted them!” 

Oh my god, this she-devil is insane.  I made a final attempt at redeeming myself, “So maybe you tasted the wrong side.  When I take them off, they flip inside out!”

She ran at me full speed holding a condom in each hand, swinging them as hard as she could and said, “I tasted both sides!!!”

I dropped my shirt and tried to scramble past her.  She scratched my back and hit me in the face with both condoms over and over before I can finally get by her and to the door.  I jumped out into the hallway and ran out to my car.  

Although I loved my job, a few weeks later I was terminated for reasons unrelated to this incident. 

The moral of this story? Redheads are soulless.


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