Hiya everyone. I’m Kryssi, but my real name is Krystal. Everyone calls me Kryssi. Before I even talk about how lucky I am to be with my boyfriend, can I, like, clear the air a bit first? Everyone always makes these totally false assumptions about me, so I want to set the record straight.

I am not a hobbit, I am not the famous model that everyone thinks, I am not an interior designer, and I am a natural redhead, not naturally blonde. But I do have magical sex powers.

I don’t know why, but most other girls compare me to a hobbit. This happens all the time, especially when they’re around their boyfriends. I guess they want to show him that they’re into the same things he is. Guys are such cute geeks. I’ll be talking for a minute and she’ll say, “You are such a Bimbo!”

I know, right? First off, that Bimbo Baggins character is a guy and I’m obviously a girl! Secondly, while I am short, I’m not that short. I don’t have hairy feet and Bimbo isn’t a redhead. I just don’t know why all other girls see me and are reminded of that Bimbo Hobbit guy.

But at least I know that I’m super-hot! Everybody thinks that I work for the top modeling agency in the nation. They look at me and say, “You are, like, oh my God, a Valley Girl.”

I mean like wow! Everyone that sees me is just so blown away by how sexy I am that they automatically think that I work for the Valley Girl Modeling Agency. I’m honest with them, though. I thank them for the compliment but tell them that while I love posing for pictures, I’m not a model. Just about every guy I’ve been with has just loved the way I pose for pictures. They always hate what I’m wearing though and tell me that the pictures look so much better when the clothes aren’t hiding how photogenic I am!

For some reason, and I don’t know why, a lot of guys just look at me and think that I’m an interior designer. Guys are way more into decorating than you might think. Hardly a day goes by that some guy doesn’t look at me and say something like, “Hey, Red, does the carpet match the drapes?”

Well, duh! Of course they match, how else can you coordinate with the sofa?

But by far, and I think this is like the biggest compliment ever, is the fact that people think I’m naturally blonde and I’ve dyed my hair. We all know that blondes are known to be super cool and so much fun, right? People just assume that I must be a blonde because I’m so much fun and so cool. Almost every time I meet somebody they’ll stare at me after I say something and ask, “Are you a natural blonde?” It’s so funny!

But, anyhoo, I live with my boyfriend. We’ve been living together for a few weeks now. He is so sweet, so nice, and he just wants me to be happy. A few months after we started going out I mentioned that my lease was coming due and I wasn’t sure if I still wanted to live there. Matt said I could move in with him. Right after I moved in I told him that I hate, hate, hate doing laundry. I asked him if it was ok if I only wore a t-shirt or just went around naked so I didn’t have to do so much laundry.

He just smiled at me and said, “If that makes you happy, I’d love it.”

See? He’s so sweet!

Also, right after we moved in together I lost my facial moisturizing lotion. I mean, heck, I’m twenty-four now and I need to keep my skin fresh and clean. I was going to moisturize but it was nowhere to be found.

Matt, my boyfriend, was quick to stop what he was doing and help me.

“Honey,” I called out to him. “I can’t find my facial moisturizer. Can you help me out by jizzing on my face so I can rub it in? Cosmo said it’s good for the skin.”

He was busy, but he jumped right up and ran into the bathroom to help me out. Like I said, he’ll do anything to make me happy! After that, he told me that I shouldn’t ever worry about skin lotion again! He said he’d be more than happy to do that for me whenever I wanted. Well, good skin is, like, a priority for me, so it’s at least once every day.

Even Matt’s friends are super-sweet. When they come over, they’re always concerned with my comfort. They see me wearing my shorts and crop top, or just a t-shirt and keep asking me if I’m cold. And they always fight each other to help me do the dishes; such gentlemen. It’s a good thing they help, too, because I’m such a klutz that I always get water all over my shirt.

Now you might not believe me, but I think I have some magical sexual powers. I know, right? All I do is act like myself and guys and some girls become so horny around me. I don’t know why it happens, but that’s fine because sex is natural and fun, and I do love fun!

Let me give you an example, okay?

When Matt suggested that I move in with him, he told me that he had to tell me something that I might not like first. He told me that once a month he and his friends get together and play cards and they hire a model to serve the drinks and snacks.

“Oh wow,” I said. “Like a Valley Girl Model?”

“Not exactly,” was his reply. “More like lingerie models.”

“OK,” I said. “And why wouldn’t I like that? Do you drink too much or something?”

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “It’s just that most girlfriends freak out when they hear that a sexy woman dressed all sexy is playing hostess for our parties.”

“Oh,” I said. “I don’t understand. Women are sexy and it’s natural and fun to dress that way. I mean why did the Goddess give us boobs if we can’t enjoy them? Promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If you get too drunk, call me and I’ll come pick you up, okay?”

Well, Matt’s turn to host the party was coming up and he let me sit on his lap in front of his computer and help him pick out the best model to serve them drinks and snacks. He had everything set up so we didn’t need to waste a bunch of time. He had already gotten a sign-in for the modeling agency, called the Pink Peach Modeling agency, and had already set up his account for payment. He’s just so thoughtful taking care of the boring stuff like that in advance.

Her name was Destiny, so it was like fate or something because she was perfect. I looked over her pictures and she had the cutest little red skirt and tank top on. I had to tell Matt to make sure she didn’t wear those heels because it would be real hard to walk around in six-inch heels all night. But she was perfect! Her bio said that she’s comfortable with groups of men, the more the merrier and drinking is smoking is OK. She also added that she knows how a keg should be tapped and is skilled in stroking your tap handles! So she obviously knew how to tend bar and mix drinks.

It was all set and I was so excited for Matt. But on the day of his party I came home from work—I’m the best waitress in the world and all kinds of guys come in to sit at my tables and chat—and Matt looked miserable. He was frantically looking for another waitress and looked really stressed out.

“What’s wrong, honey?” I asked him.

“The agency was closed down so the stripper won’t be coming.”

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, but the stripper is the one that cleans the tables, stripping all the nasty stuff off them before somebody else sits there and eats. You meant the waitress.”

“Where can I find somebody sexy in just two hours?”

“I thought you said I was sexy!” He looked at me and I pushed out my bottom lips and wiggled my shoulders back and forth. That always brings a smile to his face. He needed cheering up.

“You are, baby. You’re the hottest girl I know. But that isn’t what I meant. I need to find somebody to serve before they get here or I’ll be the laughing stock of my friends forever. I only have a few minutes.”

I thought it over until it hurt. I couldn’t have my boyfriend humiliated. He’d do anything for me. Then it hit me.

I turned to him and massaged his thighs because that always makes him feel better. “Well, duh! I’m a waitress. I could do it but…”

“But what?” He said.

“Well, I don’t really own any sexy clothes. I only have my everyday stuff, except for my old Catholic school uniform. I mean it isn’t really sexy, but that other model on the website was wearing one so maybe that will do.”

Matt just stared at me. “You have a Catholic schoolgirl skirt?”

“Yeppers! Sure do! How about this? How about I go into the bedroom and put it on and you can tell me if it’s good enough for you and your friends?”

“Really? You want to model it for me? Right now?”

“Back in a flash! Stay sexy for me.”

I ran into the bedroom and dumped out all my bags until I found it. I took off my waitress dress and pulled on the skirt. I had grown up a bit since then and I was a little taller. The skirt was short and the pleats made it spring out from my body, but it covered me almost as much as my shorts, so it should be fine.

The white blouse of my uniform was another matter. My boobs got bigger since then and it bulged at the buttons. I could button up a couple of them in the middle, but not on the top or they’d pop. I knew exactly what to do because I’m a snappy dresser, even if I don’t own a bunch of awesome clothes. I decided to make the top a halter. I left the top three buttons undone and only closed up the two in the middle. I took the shirttails and knotted them in front of me.

I didn’t know if it was good enough, but Matt would. He always picks out the best things for me to wear. When I dress how he suggests, guys are always telling me how they love what I’m wearing and that I look so amazing in it.

“See, Matt! What do you think? Is it sexy enough for your party? I know I’m no model but everyone thinks I am. Please? Please, can I be your waitress?”

He looked me up and down and his got red. He smiled at me. “I love it.”

“And I love you!” I saw myself in the mirror and I needed to do something with my hair. “I’ll be right back, hang on.”

I ran back and tied my hair into ponytails. It was perfect! I looked amazing, just like Britney Spears but with red hair. But then I noticed that my underwear didn’t match. I heard the doorbell ring as I went through all my bras and panties to find something that matched.

“They’re here, Kryssi,” Matt shouted to me.

I heard them talking and laughing. I heard bottles rattle and lots of laughter. I didn’t know what to do so I just pulled my panties off. I just didn’t feel right knowing they didn’t match my outfit. To make it worse, my bra was showing with the way I had my top open. It had to go. I couldn’t have my boyfriend’s mates thinking his girlfriend didn’t know how to dress in style.

I walked out. I was so nervous. When I came up the hallway they all stopped and looked at me.

“Hi guys,” I said. I waved at them, smiling. “I hope you don’t mind but the waitress canceled so I’ll be serving you tonight if that’s OK with you.”

They hated the idea, I could tell. They just looked at me and stared. Their mouths dropped open in dismay at the idea.

“Really?” Jeff said acting all excited. “You’re going to serve us drinks dressed like that?”

“Um, yeah, if that’s OK. Are you guys cool with it?”

All of them immediately, just to not hurt my feelings, I’m sure, started telling me that they loved the idea and loved how I was dressed. I know they were just being nice, but I went along with it.

“OK then boys, enjoy your game. I’ll bring you all some beers.”

They began laughing and then whispering in hushed voices. You know boy-talk. I opened some beer bottles, grabbed some mugs out of the freezer, and put them on a tray. The secret is to put the mugs close to your chest and to tip the tray slightly upwards. If you don’t do that then everything slides around. I walked out into the dining room where they were playing with the freshly frozen glass mugs up against my chest, just like a good waitress should do. They were so cold that they were already covered with drops of dew.

I set the tray down between Jeff and Mike, keeping one big step away from the table and bending at the waist like a good waitress should. You see, that way she isn’t hovering over your food. I plucked up a mug and then poured the first glass. I suddenly remembered that I didn’t know how they wanted their beers poured.

“Mike, do you like head?”

“Uh, what?” he asked. His face turned red.

“Do you want your beer with a lot of head or none at all?”

He laughed. “Gimmie head, babe.”

“You got it.” He’s so funny! I poured his beer just like he asked and set it down in front of him. I almost lost my balance.

“I’ll take some head, too.” Tom was across the table right next to Matt.

“OK, you get head.” I smiled at him.

I poured it out just like he asked but some of the foam was dripping down the neck of the bottle. I quickly licked it off the neck of the bottle so it didn’t drip and it tasted so good.

“I just love licking it off the tip like that,” I told them. They erupted with, “wooh,” and, “yeah,” as if I had just said the funniest thing in the world.

Rather than walk all the way around the table I just bent over and placed his beer in front of him. When I turned to Jeff to see how he wanted his beer poured, he was looking intently at my butt.

“What? Do I have a bug on me or something?’

He looked at me with an almost frightened look on his face. “Are you wearing any panties?”

“Well I had some on, but they didn’t match! I’m sorry, was I supposed to? You’re not offended or anything, are you?”

“No,” he said. “It’s your apartment. You can dress however you want.”

“Oh thank you,” I reached around and hugged his cute little curly-haired head to my chest. “But if any of you want me to go put on panties or a bra, I’ll be happy to…”

“No, no, that’s fine,” they all said interrupting me.

I let them play, only coming out when they needed something, which was, like, every minute or so. But they humored me so much! When I accidentally spilled a mug of beer all down the front of my blouse they told me not to worry about it. When I had to drop off a bowl of snacks the space between the chairs was so small that I’d be hitting them with my boobs or butt. They didn’t mind that at all! They are so sweet, just like my Matt.

After they had drank and eaten enough I didn’t need to keep serving all the time. I went out to see how my Matt was doing. My feet hurt and there was nowhere to sit, so I sat in his lap. But men’s laps can be uncomfortable so the only way I keep from feeling all poked was to constantly keep my hips in motion. Matt lets me do that so I don’t get too uncomfortable.

He was having such terrible luck but with me in his lap, he won big. See! I told you that I had magic powers.

Then Tom said that his luck was crap and maybe I should sit in his lap so he could win. Well, they’re all so nice to me I figured why not?

“Sure,” I said. “There’s enough of me to go around for everyone.”

So I climbed off of my proud and smiling boyfriend and plopped down on Tom’s lap. Like I said I have magic powers. His dick was already hard. That happens with every guy I’m ever around, so I’m used to it. But it was uncomfortable so I had to keep rocking my hips back and forth. Luckily, there was a song on the radio with a good beat so I pumped my hips to the rhythm. But Tom is so big that I almost fell off his lap. To keep me from falling, because he’s such the gentleman, he wrapped his hands around my thighs and held me down to him.

Then it happened! He was concentrating so hard on keeping me from falling off his lap that my sex magic just made his dick explode in his pants. I was so happy that I didn’t wear any panties! Not only would they be dirty which meant I’d have to wash them, but now I got some free jizz for my skin.

I was so happy I bounced up and down on his lap with delight.

I put my hand between my legs and scooped some up from his pants. “Look, Matt! I have some new lotion, so you won’t need to jizz on me later.” I rubbed it into my cheeks while everyone else just looked at me.

“Ah! There’s not enough. Your pants soaked most of it up. I know this sounds silly guys, but I need to keep my skin soft. Would you guys mind jizzing on me so I can keep my skin fresh and young?”

They are such sweethearts that they practically raced over to me to help me with my skin conditioning. And people say that guys aren’t into girl stuff! Mike was nice enough to help me do my boobs and Jeff promised me that he’d do my face.

When they were done helping me they decided to leave. They all even checked my butt and boobs to make sure they were soft and smooth. They were! I had to apologize to Matt for ruining his poker game.

“Ruined?” he laughed at me. “Baby, that was the best poker night ever!”

“Really? My skin conditioning seemed like it ruined the game.”

“Baby, they want you to be our regular waitress, that is if you want to?”

“Can I? Please? I promise I’ll even wear panties if you want…”

“No panties,” he told me. “In fact, when I wake up tomorrow I’m going to take all your panties and throw them in the trash.”

“Oh, Matt, I think I love you. You know I hate doing laundry! You are so good to me. Can we throw out my bras, too?”