Oh, I should have been a police woman.

Suddenly, I can see it. It was, I should have been!

I would have been a great police woman.

My natural authority would have put all in place.

I have a refined radar, antennas out and it smells even the slightest crime miles away.

there Are signs of trouble, I’m the first to defend the victim and blame the perpetrator.

I would stand ready in battle uniform with håndjernene and say: the time is now 6.00, and you are arrested for uterlig behavior.

But best of all would be my male politikollegaer.

I would not be able to keep my long fingers for myself. Has always turned on politiuniformer (a cliche – I know it well).

I would sneak into the locker room and the lure on to the policemen, when they stood there naked together in the shower in the breakfast, crawl naked into them on all four and take them into your mouth one by one, while the open-mouthed, but puffing would look for. And they would never accuse me of sexual harassment.

It is a beautiful drømmescenarie, as I often have masturberet to.

Free fantasy, though I have had many naughty adventures with the politiknægte.

But how many of us have not had sex in the workplace?

Maybe it’s a cheeky fellow, flirting game for a special experience, and all of a sudden there knaldes out in the restroom or on top of the copier?

Perhaps there is even a customer or a guest who is lucky enough to get a naughty experience with a staff member?

this is probably not particularly surprised by that I of course have taken me exceedingly of my own guests at my previous jobs in the restaurant industry.

Once arrived, a visiting businessman and lodged at the five-star hotel in Copenhagen, where I was employed as a servant.

Our gazes met in the hotel reception, when he was about to check in, and I was on the way down in the locker room to dress into my tjeneruniform.

It was early in the morning, and I was morgenliderlig.

I soon found out his værelsenummer, found a tray in the kitchen with breakfast, went up and knocked on his door and called: ’room Service, Mister’.

He opened the hungry door, and I gave him the ’tag yourself-buffet’ and ’happy hour’, before I again had to sneak down and serve the annual breakfast for the other early risers.

It can call ekstragod service!

I had now promoted myself to be ‘morgenbolledame’ at the hotel.

So I ended up with sex, success, and stars in.