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Today most middle-class, professional people maintain a respectable manner, obscuring the ferment signifying social change in which large numbers of them are engaged.
Young, educated, aware of their responsibilities to themselves and their communities, they have at one time or another played important, pivotal roles in the Black Movement and Women’s liberation, helped stir reaction to the war in Indochina, and were instrumental in opening up the voting franchise to a wider spectrum Of the population in the United States.
This social ferment has also extended itself into the private lives of these participants, resulting in freer, more open attitudes toward sex.
Chris Logan is part of this involved generation, working in a job that is traditionally male, groping her way toward a more honest expression of her personality, endeavoring to express her sexuality without shame.
THE NAUGHTY NIGHT CLERK is her story, one of many in today’s changing society.
Many people may by-pass the Barton Hotel, located just a block off posh Center Boulevard, but to me, Chris Logan, it has been home for the past three years. I have a small apartment on the second floor, furnished by the hotel, and, since I have been the night manager at the hotel for the past two years, I live a very comfortable and varied life.
At age 27, things have broken right for me. Of course, I have used ways not altogether nice to get where I am, and will use them again to further myself in the future. The Barton is only a stopping place, a place to get experience and learn the hotel business. From here, I aim for bigger and better things. But, for the time being, I am satisfied with my lot.
I was a young, but experienced, twenty-four years old when I first approached Mr. Jed Barton about a job. I had read in the paper where he was advertising for a night clerk and since I was out of a job, I decided to give it a try. I figured my chances were slight, because of my age and lack of experience, but I knew I had one thing going for me-my sex-and I knew how to use it. I kept my fingers crossed as I walked into the lobby of the Barton that day, hoping the owner was straight and that his wife, if he was married, didn’t have much to do with his business.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.
Note: This story is the same as catalog number PP-8058 in the original publications (a duplicate).