Smurf porn: ‘Legally Lesbian Smurfs’

‘Law Offices of Strappitt, van Smurfen, and Fuchs’ is how the brass plaque by the door read. I straightened my seams, pulled my skirt down a little, cursing under my breath at my decision to wear such a short one, and went in.

I had the impression of wood, deep leather, and fittings of burnished brass everywhere. Class. There was even a touch of class about the receptionist who greeted me – at least there was a hint of a raised eyebrow, a suggestion of a smirk, and when she asked “May I help you?” a soupçon of superiority. I almost beat a retreat, but I straightened my back and announced myself.

“Lisa McBlue,” I said. “To see Ms van Smurfen.”

“Take a seat,” said the receptionist, her fingers clicking on the computer screen. I sat in one of the leather fauteuils, sinking deep into it, my heels leaving the floor, my skirt riding up. I picked up a copy of Harvard Law Today from the low table and pretended to read it.

“Ms van Smurfen, I have a Miss McBlue to see you… mhm… mhm… yes, I’d say she is, very. Certainly Ms van Smurfen, right away.” A single click on the computer keyboard, and the receptionist look up. “Miss McBlue, Ms van Smurfen will see you now. Second door on the right. Just knock and go straight in.”

“Thank you,” I said, getting up and straightening my skirt and stockings once again, this time under the appraising eye of the receptionist. I didn’t care now and I didn’t care that I could feel her eyes on me as I walked down the corridor.

“Watch my ass if you must!” I thought, and gave it a bit of a wiggle as I walked.

When I reached the office door. The sign on it said ‘Meryl van Smurfen, Senior Partner’. I knocked but somehow I didn’t care to walk straight in, maybe it was the intimidation of the sign on the door. Instead I hesitated. There was a pause.

“Come!” called a voice from inside the office. I pushed the door and walked in.

I don’t know what I had expected my prospective boss to be like, but I got a surprise as I walked through the doorway. Across an expanse of rich, burgundy carpet, behind a leather-topped desk, was a beautiful woman. As she rose to greet me, coming round the side of the desk with her hand extended, I took her in. Hair the color of summer sunshine topped by a white Phrygian cap set at a racy angle, charcoal business suit over a crisp, white blouse, high heels holding a perfect figure in an impossible balance. She had a baby-face with cupid-bow lips, but her eyes were shrewd, knowing, her whole face sensual, sapphire blue…

“I’m Meryl van Smurfen,” she said, taking my hand and shaking it with gentle firmness. “You must be Miss McBlue – Lisa isn’t it? Take a seat Lisa.”

As she dropped the handshake her fingertips briefly traced a curve on my palm. I felt slightly prickly under my arms, slightly damp… elsewhere. I looked at the only chair this side of the desk. It was set far back across the room. Ah, this was part of the interview, I was being tested. Instead of sitting down on it, I moved it closer to the desk – not too close. Ms van Smurfen watched and smiled.

I sat down, my legs together, trying to look alert but relaxed. Ms van Smurfen opened a file on her desk.

“I have your CV here, Lisa. It’s pretty impressive. I think you are just what we are looking for in an intern at this law firm,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“I think we can dispense with much of the usual interview nonsense and cut to the chase. If you are to work with us here you will have to buy in to the culture… get used to our way of doing things, not just in the way we work but the way we play.”

I said nothing. I didn’t know what to make of what Ms van Smurfen had just said, so I didn’t reply. She got up from her seat and came round the side of the desk again, seating herself on the desk-top. There was a whisper of nylon-on-nylon as she crossed her legs. The top of a stocking appeared at her hemline – I couldn’t help looking, her legs were so shapely – and there was a whiff of Poivre by Caron of Paris. I was embarrassed to catch a different scent also, one of arousal. Was that me?

“You know what I mean, I’m sure, don’t you Lisa,” she said, lowering her voice.

“I… I… don’t know, Ms van Smurfen.”

She leant forward, her sky-blue cleavage right at my eye-level, put two azure fingers under my chin, and lifted my face so that our eyes met.

“Oh I’m sure you do know,” she said. “And it’s Meryl, call me Meryl. I insist.”

“Meryl,” I breathed as she leant forward and touched her lips lightly to mine. She drew back slightly, again looking into my eyes to see if there was any reluctance there. There was a little surprise and some timidity but – oh! – I can tell you there was no reluctance! Her eyes closed and she brought her face to mine again, capturing my lips again in a soft yet insistent kiss. My eyes closed too as she held the kiss. I felt my cheeks flush, my heartbeat quicken. When I opened my eyes again she had deftly shed not only the jacket of her suit but also her blouse, and her round, enticing, cerulean breasts were cradled in a white halter-bra.

I scarcely noticed that while she was kissing me her fingertips had strayed from my chin to my neck, and from there to the neckline of my blouse. I scarcely noticed that she had unfastened two buttons. All I knew was that her nails were tracing a line along my bra-strap and the top of the cup. A thrill ran through me as her fingers dived inside and glided over my [continued on page 94]

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pic Tim Hodge