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Walnut Street: Working Man
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Walnut Street: Working Man People asked me about my part time job back in my college days. When I wasn’t at the Big House on Walnut Street I could be found working part time at the Rexall Drug store over on South Willow. My job was part time, deliveries and janitorial duties. Back in the day, Drugstores didn’t have drive through windows but they did provide home delivery for a meager fee. I think I was making about $2.25 an hour plus tips back then. Good money too. "Jimmy, come upstairs after we close, please. I need to talk to you," said Rosemary – under her breath, yet pointedly – as she passed behind me. She was the second-in-command, behind the owner, of the Drug store where I worked to support myself as a 20-year-old college student. What could she possibly want? I wondered, as I locked the front door behind the late-shift pharmacist after he left for home. Shutting off the outside lights at 9 p.m., I swept the floor and emptied the day's trash into the dumpster behind the store, locked the delivery car inside the back gate, and went upstairs to Rosemary's office, where she was counting the day's receipts. "Wait a few minutes," she said, brusquely, as she completed a tally from a cash drawer. I stood a few feet away, unbuttoning my pharmacist's smock from my neck and down one shoulder, and wanted desperately to sit down. My days were full: 8 a.m. classes 'til one, a quick bite for lunch, at the Drug store by two and working 'til nine – with a snack on the run – then a sandwich over the books until I fell asleep at 12 or 1 a.m. That schedule was repeated consistently, Three days a week, Monday Wednesday and Friday. Weekends were for parties of course. Rosemary finished counting the receipts and turned to look up at me from her swivel chair. Her gaze swept from my face to my toes, making me uncomfortable since she was wearing the sardonic half smile that she'd used so often to intimidate employees. "Did you lock up?" she asked, looking through the window in the upstairs wall that afforded her a view of the entire store and the adjoining pharmacy below. "Yes, and swept as well," I responded. "Good. Then, turn off the inside lights." I moved to the upstairs bank of switches to do as she'd ordered, and walked back to her desk, standing over her, perhaps more closely than I should have. I looked down at her small, shapely form – her luscious, curvy legs crossed under a tight, black skirt, with a snug, multi-colored silk blouse tucked into it – and knew that I was frightened of this woman. Not only was she a tough boss who ran the retail operation like a top sergeant – the other employees called her the ice woman – but she was gorgeous...and she wielded her beauty like a rapier when dealing with men. We all wore pharmacy whites in the store, men in half-sleeved smocks and women in lab coats. But unlike the other female employees, only Rosemary wore her lab coat open, which exposed her generous D-cup bosom and full, scrumptious thighs under tight skirts or dresses. Each day she'd put on a freshly starched white garment, and would turn the collar up, making her look saucy and impudent as compared with the other women. She was no more than 5'2" tall, maybe 38-22-34, and her flawless oval, Irish face was framed by short, gently curled, black hair with eyebrows of the same color. Her creamy, ivory complexion was always made up beautifully, as were her riveting blue eyes, which now looked up at me with more than a hint of knowledge that she could make me squirm and do anything she wished. Though in her mid-thirties, I estimated, and childless, I could only imagine the power that she must've exercised over her husband, a firefighter who had the reputation of being a blustering jerk. "I saw what happened last week...downstairs...with Barbara," she said. I watched her full lips, darkened with a near-burgundy lipstick, contemptuously form the name "Barbara," who was the boss's tall, lissome, longhaired blonde wife. Occasionally, Barbara would spend a half-day in the store to help out in the pharmacy. "Oh? What happened?" I asked, trying to appear innocent. "You know exactly what I'm talking about!" she flared. "You were taking inventory back in the pharmacy, and she stepped around one of the shelves to fasten her nylons. You got an eyeful of her under her skirt. You blushed...she gushed, and then she backed you into a corner, touching you all over and apologizing, as if it'd been her fault. Gawd, it was sickening!" I remembered the incident. I also knew that Barbara liked me. But, I thought it was because she wanted me to date her teenage , Sandy, her with the big boss, Bob, whose father had started the business as a pharmacist a generation before. I knew Bob respected me as a hard worker, and was mentoring me, urging me to attend pharmaceutical courses in conjunction with my engineering classes. Regardless, I'd put the memory of Barbara's soft, milky white thighs in perspective, after I'd memorized the image of her fastening a stocking to her garter belt over a pair of wispy, lace panties. I had a rich sensual imagination but, after all, I knew my place. "It was an accident," I mumbled, backing away, since Rosemary had stood up to demonstrate body language that was decidedly threatening. "Don't bullshit me, !" she hissed. "I've seen your kind before, a poor boy weaseling into a rich family. Just 'cause you're gonna be an engineer doesn't wash the crap off your boots! I don't care if Barbara wants to nail you...or have you screw her baby . You're not in their class! You know why we call her Santa Barbara? 'Cause that's the name of that big apartment complex they own north of town! You're not gonna pollute that blood line...not on my watch!" she trilled, her breasts heaving in what I thought was excessive anger. I was speechless, and my pulse was over 100 beats a minute. I needed this job, so I absorbed Rosemary's invective. I raised my arms in a helpless, submissive pose and started to turn away, trying to avoid more of the same. "Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you!" she spat, grabbing me firmly by the sleeve. The hair rose on the back of my neck. Teenage memories of my mother being a screeching, abusive bitch flashed in my memory. I was also tired and hungry. I wanted to go home, have a sandwich, then study, study, study. The last thing I needed was this woman's authoritarian mistreatment. My nostrils flared and I wheeled back toward her. Her eyes narrowed with a glint, sensing my sudden anger at her restraining touch, then they softened and she took one step backward and looked up at me. "What are you, Five-ten? 185?" I nodded. "Well...you're a disturbing influence...I mean...on the women here. Arlene's okay, since you've been out with her and I heard that you showed her...uhh...a good time. But, Kay! She's pushing fifty and she acts like a schoolgirl around you!" Arlene! I thought. That poor, neglected woman! Cute, with high energy, in her late thirties, not getting enough at home, she'd taken to applying leg makeup to the bruises on her calves after we'd "worked late" several nights in my old Chevy when her husband had been working or was out of town. A few weeks later, her slutty teenage , Dawn, had been just as horny...every bit as physically demanding...who now periodically dropped by the store, wanting me to drive her home and grapple with me on the same backseat that I'd entertained her mother. And Kay! Sweet, lonely, heavy-limbed Kay, an expert at fellatio, who'd worshipped me from her knees as if I'd been a young Prince, many times in the back room. All of these prurient images made me feel suddenly guilty. But, what was a young, vital guy to do? "Rosemary...I'm sorry. I just want to work...and study. Uhh...can I sit down?" Shit, I thought to myself. I’m caught with my dick out one too many times and I’m getting canned for it… AGAIN! Memories of when my old boss, Rick, at the Chevron Station caught me nailing his on top of his desk came back to haunt me. "Grab a seat." She seemed to soften, sitting down across from me in her chair as I collapsed onto one nearby. "Look. My job is to run this place. I want you to stay away from the boss's family. With the other women, use these," she said, pulling a box of a dozen condoms from a desk drawer. "Even on prescription deliveries...I don't want Bob getting sued 'cause his boy wonder has gotten one of our female customer's pants full." I took the box of rubbers and asked, "Is that all, Rosemary? I've gotta get back to the Big House and hit the books." She dismissed me and I drove home slowly. She was right. I was poor...financially strapped. I'd wasted two of my three years in high school, having devoted them to girls, but in my senior year I'd seen the light and pulled a 4.0 average, which had gotten me into the university. My parents could not help me. So, without a scholarship, I needed to work to support myself, which meant I had no social life. Sex, then, had become brief, furtive assignations with several unlikely women. Lonely or damaged women, mostly, older women, married women, and the occasional co-ed. Humm… now that I think about it there was a lot of sex this year. A high school acquaintance who'd gotten pregnant by someone other than me spent a few nights at my apartment, until I'd sent her and her infant back to her suffering parents. One teacher who was having problems with her husband Ron. Another high school girlfriend, who'd married too soon after high school, divorced after a few months and spent weeks with me until she, too, was sent packing in favor of my education. Janet and Sharon, my ex-roommates. Robin and Jessica from the Big House. Most recently, there had been the women at work, and one of their daughters. Sexual loneliness, then – interrupted by bouts of furtive passion – was my lifestyle. I relieved the resultant tension on the night of Rosemary's chewing out by jerking off in the shower. A few days later I was preparing to deliver prescriptions to customers. Before leaving, Rosemary dropped another one in the basket, saying, "This one just came in...for Ms. Thompson. Deliver it last, then take an hour or two for a dinner break. You've worked your ass off today and deserve it." I looked at her, puzzled, since her kindness was out of the ordinary, and said, "I'll take a book along, so I can read while I eat." That was something I did regularly. "Whatever you say, Jimmy," she murmured. I could've sworn that her eyes seemed soft, kind and understanding. The deliveries went quickly and, as I approached Ms. Thompson's front door, I was looking forward to as much as two hours of my own time. The door was open as I rang, I announced myself, and a pleasant female voice behind the outer screen door said, "Please come in. I have to get my purse." I walked in and my eyes adjusted to the dim light, revealing a neat, modern apartment, with a grand piano in one corner. I stood just inside, being cautious enough not to venture further, and in a moment a very attractive, dark-haired woman in her mid-thirties came from another room. Barefoot, she was about 5'7", and dressed only in a long robe...a black, silky thing with flowery characters on it. Her voluptuous body looked like fine, contrasting alabaster. "That was a fast delivery. What's the total?" "$9.95, ma'am," I responded. "Here's twenty...keep the change," she giggled, and reached down to pick up a glass of red wine from a side table and appraise me with deep green – almost feline – eyes, as she drank half of its contents. "Want some wine for a tip...while you're here?" she asked, still holding her glass close to her lips and watching me while she scratched the curvy ankle of one bare leg with the toenail of the other. I broke a cardinal rule by accepting the drink, but figured that a two-hour break would eradicate any trace of alcohol. "Sure," I said. "Can't stay long, though," as I followed her beckoning fingers into her kitchen. Her hips twitched at me from under her robe as she led me deeper into the apartment. The kitchen radio was playing some soothing, classical music. "My pills – Clozanepam – are for nervous seizures. I ran out of 'em so had to have some wine instead. Now that you're here, I'm glad I did," she said suggestively, raking her wavy, shoulder length hair back from a smooth, pale cheek. She'd leaned back against the kitchen sink and a flawless, peaches-and-cream thigh now split the front of her robe. Her eyes watched mine drop to her appetizing flesh. "Are...uhh...do you play the piano?" I asked nervously, gesturing with my head toward the instrument in the living room. "Mmm...I teach piano. Cancelled my classes for the day, though, 'cause I'm not feeling well. A little more wine...maybe a nap...and I'll be as good as new. D'you play?" "Nah. Took some lessons as a , but never followed up." "You should have. You've got the hands for it. Large...strong...long fingers," she said, finishing her glass. Then she shivered, visibly. "Mmm...I'm a little shaky. S'more wine. Could you open this?" she asked, sliding an unopened bottle and corkscrew toward me on the sink board. "Sure, but then I'll have to leave." I uncorked it and she slid both of our glasses to me, touching my hip with her crotch. My heartbeat spiked as I felt her body's heat through my pants. I poured her glass half full and put down the bottle. "See!...so strong!" she said, grabbing my hand in hers and kneading between my fingers. Then she suddenly pulled my hand to one of her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra, and the firm swelling under her robe filled my palm. For several moments we just looked at one another, as her nipple grew hard. "Mmm...that feels nice," she murmured, as my gaze fixed on her jugular, excitedly pumping blood to her brain. "Sooo...nice," she repeated, as her robe was now somehow open and two magnificent, firm, breasts poked out, their pink nipples pouting excitedly up at me. She had both of my hands now, and was stroking herself with them, up, down and around her tits, then lower – spanning her soft, white belly – to her full, auburn bush, which caused her to tremble and gasp. "Miz Thompson...I...I really have to go. I'm...uhh...work...ing," I stuttered. "Nnn...nooo...you can't...nowww!" she whined, and swiped one of my fingers up her sopping slit. Her labia were greasy with her thick juices and she leaned her head back with closed eyes, whispering, "Yessss...use more fingers... right... there... yessss...there!" She'd eased her arms around my waist, spread her legs and opened herself up to two of my digits that now were hooked under her pelvic bone, massaging her G spot. "Nnngghh...yeah!...yeah!...yeah!" she grunted, as she threw an arm around my neck, ripped open the high collar of my pharmacist's smock, and raised herself off the floor, locking her ankles behind my knees. I was now fully erect in my pants and my legs began to cramp a bit because I was carrying her. I reached with one hand to the sink board to bear our combined weight and that's when she orgasmed, shuddering and spasming against my embedded fingers. She started to scream, then locked her mouth to my clavicle, well below the collar line, to mewl through her climax for nearly a minute. By the time she'd finished, the end of my cock was raw from rubbing against my shorts, and returning to work was the last thing on my mind, as I stripped off my white smock to my underlying tee shirt. I was no more than a step behind my pharmaceutical customer as she pranced naked down the hall to her bedroom. My mouth watered as her pear-shaped buns jiggled at me and she giggled like a wanton who'd gotten exactly what she wanted. My pants were at half-mast as I stood next to the bed, in front of her, looking down on her breathtaking, seated form. I held the box of condoms in my hand but was too slow in opening it, since Betty – that was her name, I learned later – had clawed down my shorts and inhaled my turgid cock. "You sweet...beautiful boy," she gasped, slurping at me, "I'm gonna suck you off...then I wantcha' to put your big...fat...cock inside me." I groaned as she slipped me deeply into her mouth, then pulled off. "Touch me again, honey...with those fantastic hands. An' when I cum, jus'...ram it into me. Hard! Okay?"  I couldn't believe how forward – how dirty – she was. I groaned again, this time in agreement, incredulous at the fabulous feelings she was causing in my groin. I reached down between her legs, which she'd spread and raised to put her heels on the edge of the bed, and diddled her softly with my fingers. Her clitoris was uncommonly large...and hard...and she began trembling with each rapid, moist caress of the sensitive organ. Her lovely chestnut hair gleamed in the sunlight as her lips cycled back and forth on my thickness, and the continuous moaning in her throat soon became halting grunts as she once again approached a climax. After a minute or so she came, screaming, and fell backward on the bed, with me pitching forward between her upraised knees. "Haaaaggghhh!" she shrieked, her face distorted in sublime agony, as I filled her pussy completely to my balls. But that was just the beginning. Betty's vagina clamped around me like a quivering vise and she hammered back at my driving cock like a woman possessed. Each breath she took was expelled with a piercing scream as our bodies flailed away at one another. She bit me, tore at me with her nails, and her cunt seemed to gobble at my cock as if trying to consume it in great, voracious gulps. I'd never before experienced a more savage fucking in my life, as her claws ripped away at my shoulders, chest, back and butt in her passion. She seemed to be cumming constantly, as for many minutes her vagina gripped me like some unearthly, cannibalistic thing. Then her screams ceased and she threw her head back and froze – it seemed into one solid muscle – showing nothing but the whites of her eyes as her body seized up around me. "Aahh, Gawd...yeah...aawwgghh...aawwgghh...aawwgghh!" I finally bellowed as her internal muscles pulled huge, hot gouts of seed from me to bathe her insides. Oh FUCK!…I forgot the condom….With her calves on my buttocks, her quim sucked at me, pulling me slowly into her hot center, then thrust quickly back to grab more of me and empty me of spunk. I whimpered at the end of my orgasm, feeling as dry inside as dust, as we lay sweating in each other's arms. At the end I was still gasping in huge gulps of air, sounding embarrassedly like an exhausted beast which had lost a life-and-death struggle, trying to outrun and escape its pernicious hunter. "Mmmm...do you make all the deliveries?" she finally murmured, looking at me with glazed, ravenous eyes. Her pussy was still pulsating around my embedded cock at a rate that would alarm a cardiologist. "Uuhh...no. Just in the afternoons and evenings, Monday Wednesday and Friday." "Perfect!" she whispered. "Whom do I ask for, honey?" "They call me Jimmy," I responded, as my flaccid dick slipped from her cunt. "Mmmm...Jimmy. I like that!" I'd never before had such a rough sexual experience with a woman, I thought, as I wolfed down a sandwich while driving back to the store, arriving just at the moment Rosemary had expected me. The tryst with Ms. Thompson had made me vow to do some research into the sexual responses of epileptics...or at least of women prone to seizures. A few hours later…… "Rosemary's on the warpath!" Arlene warned as I entered the store. "She had a screaming phone call with her husband, then a call from a customer, and she's really pissed off! She's letting me go a couple of hours early tonight...said she and you could cover for me on the register." "What's the problem?" I asked. "Dunno. But...could you drop me off at home on your evening deliveries, Jimmy? My husband Cliff is on a fishing trip an' Dawn's gonna be out. We could... maybe". Arlene's lonely brown eyes were pleading with me for illicit sustenance. This was the last thing I needed. My tee shirt under my smock was spotted with blood from Ms. Thompson's slashing nails, and another strenuous sexual romp was out of the question. It was Friday night, I was exhausted after a long week, and was looking forward to sleeping late the next morning. "I'll ask Rosemary," I said, avoiding having to make a decision. "But we'll be short-handed here." "Ohh...don't bother her. I'll take a cab. Go on upstairs and see the ice woman," said Arlene, disappointed and resigned to a lonely night of TV watching and solitary stimulation. She'd admitted to me months earlier that she masturbated regularly. Rosemary was sitting in her dark, second-floor office, with only a fluorescent desk lamp providing illumination. Her hands covered her face and she was either crying or wiping away tears. She hadn't heard me ascend the stairs so I just stood for a few moments, trying to imagine the source of my gorgeous boss's unhappiness. "Ohh...I didn't hear you. How long have you been standing there?" she asked, defensively. "Ten seconds," I replied, lying. "Well. Arlene's taking off a couple of hours early, so you and I'll have to cover for her and do deliveries, then close up." "I can't drop her off at home, then," I said, freeing myself from Arlene's wishes. "Hell, no, Jimmy! Not after this afternoon!" I suspected what she was referring to, but didn't broach the subject. It seemed that everyone knew that Arlene and I had screwed on occasion...including her . "Okay. She can call a cab, and I'll work the register 'til the late deliveries, then come back and help you close." I was trying to be helpful. "Good!" she said, wiping smeared mascara from her eyes. "Now, give me a few minutes and I'll be downstairs to help." "Gotcha'," I said, and turned. "Ohh, by the way," Rosemary said. "I got a call from Betty Thompson. She couldn't stop raving about you...and your hands. She's an old college roommate. Hope you enjoyed yourself," she concluded, sounding coquettish, as she freshened her makeup in a small mirror. The evening was slow, and I was apprehensive. I knew something was up and rushed through my closing tasks after the pharmacist left, leaving only Rosemary and me alone in the store. At the stroke of ten I locked up, carried the cash drawers upstairs, and busied myself by restocking shelves while she counted the day's take. A half-hour later she paged me through the PA system, reminding me to turn off all the lights and join her in her office. As I approached her, she was in her usual position with shapely legs crossed, looking much better than a few hours before, and smoking a cigarette. "Well, come sit down and let's talk," she said. I did as she said, unbuttoning my smock at the neck, and stretched, looking at my watch. Another week is finished, I thought, anticipating a long night's sleep. She stubbed out her cigarette, leaving its embers still smoking in the tray, its butt covered with fresh lipstick...a ruby red. Awfully sexy looking, I noted, without really thinking. What I was wondering was what her friend, Ms. Thompson, had told her. I blundered by taking the initiative. "So, you know, uhh...Betty Thompson," I said. "For years," she said, her eyes twinkling. "We were roommates in college. She was a slut even then. A music major. I'd date a guy, and she'd fuck him before I ever really got to know him. We both stayed in town after graduation...I got married, she didn't...and here we are." "A nice person...very attractive," I ventured. "She said the same about you, Jimmy. 'Such fine, strong hands'," she said, mocking the voice of her former college roommate perfectly. "Well, show me. I've had a helluva day and I need a back rub. Rosemary's blue eyes were now glistening with a devilish fire. "Wha'?" I gasped. "Rub my back! I've got knots in my neck and shoulders that my asshole husband caused years ago. I wanta see if you're as good as Betty says." I rose unsteadily from my chair and stood behind her as she swiveled around to place her elbows on her desk. I'd only touched Rosemary once in my life...to shake hands when we first met. I was therefore nervous, but not so nervous that I didn't notice the fresh perfume that wafted upward from her seated body. My hands went over her shoulders, tentatively, and I applied thumb pressure on either side of her spine. Her muscles were very tight, and she moaned, pleasurably. I moved my thumbs slightly to new terrain and she moaned again, spurring my courage to explore further up to the base of he r skull. I turned down the upturned collar of her lab coat and stroked the silken skin of her dainty neck, running my fingers around it under the top of her blouse. "Nnngaahh...Jimmy...yesss," she murmured. "That feels so gooood. Don't stop...pleeease," she whined. I kept at her, gently caressing and massaging the creamy skin down to her clavicle, then back up. Her head started to loll back and forth in relaxation, and I pulled slightly at her lab coat collar, wordlessly indicating that I wanted to remove the garment. She raised her arms from her desk and hung them limply at her sides, and I peeled the top part of it off her shoulders and held the sleeves. She pulled her arms from them and I looked down at the top of her head, which was trembling slightly. In the oppressive silence I heard her breathing deeply...a bit excitedly...and I ran my hands over her creamy shoulders, which were bare since she'd been wearing a sleeveless silk blouse underneath. "You like that?" I asked, in what I thought – ridiculously – was my deepest, sexiest mutter. "Ooohhhh...Gawd, yessss, Jimmy. Jus' rub me all over. Your hands feel so goood!" Emboldened, I pointed my fingers downward and crept lower on either side of her spine to the waistband of her skirt, testing – I must admit, since I now knew mischief was afoot – how far I might go before she stopped me. I was under her skirt now and moving my hands outward to feel the tight flare of her hips when she tensed. I retreated, running my hands back up her sides to her armpits, causing her to shiver. "Tickle?" I asked. "Mmmm...a little," she replied in a small, girlish voice. "But don't stop...please." She brought her arms in front of her and seemed to be fiddling with something as I ran my hands up and down the silken columns of her upper arms. Her skin's like that of a baby! I thought. Then I moved back up to her shoulders, spending several minutes working out her kinks, all of which brought forth mewls of acceptance and pleasure. It was several minutes before I realized that Rosemary had unbuttoned her blouse. When she leaned back toward me in her chair and looked up at me, her eyes were clear and plaintive. She then grabbed both of my hands and pulled them downward to cup her full, firm breasts. As my fingers closed around them she exhaled a loud "Uuunn-uunnh!" and looked backward at me again, telegraphing that she wanted more. Her nipples were already hard as she reached behind herself and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to her elbows and revealing two of the finest mammaries I'd ever seen, whether in physiology class or in the back seat of a car. "Rosem...!" I gasped. "Ssshh, Jimmy! I want this!" and she reached up to her desk lamp and clicked it off, leaving us in total darkness. What followed was the hurried panting of two people disrobing in the dark, with me trying to find my smock to grab the unopened box of condoms in its pocket. Then I felt her sublime body rub against mine in the blackness, her small hand furtively running to and fro on my erect cock, still slick from the effusions of her friend, Betty Thompson. "Forget the rubbers. It's okay!" she urged, and pulled me down onto her as she leaned backward onto her desk. "Touch me all over, Jimmy! I wantcha to feel all of meeee!" she mewled, as my fingers rolled her nipples. I did her bidding. My hands covered her entire body, from her shoulders past her breasts, then down over her trembling<b> tummy </font></b>to her mound. I raked my fingers through her pubic hair and she thrust its wetness up at me with a sudden gasp. I must confess that I wanted to tease her a little, and moved my thumbs down her soaking labia as she whimpered my name. My eyes had by this time adjusted to the darkness, and I saw the pale majesty of her small body writhing under my touch, desperately seeking contact with whatever appendage I had to offer. Whether fingers, tongue or cock, I gleefully realized that my bitchy boss wanted them all, as I began a deep muscle massage of her curvaceous bottom, thighs and calves, bringing moans of delight from her lips, thrust out in pleading invitations for me to go further...faster. Stepping closer to her open vulva, I ran my hands under her waist, touching my fingers and attempting to span her entire waist. My thumbs nearly met at her navel and I took much satisfaction in knowing that – eventually – I'd grip her wasp waist this way when in a different position...while we were fucking. There was no hurry. Unlike a few hours earlier with her friend, Ms. Thompson, this would be sweet, not savage. So, I began kissing and nibbling at her splayed inner thighs from her knees to their heated nexus. Her skin tasted progressively more salty as I gradually lowered my head into the profoundly musky trough between her legs. The first slow, broad lapping of her swollen labia caused her to groan deeply in her throat...a pleasured, feral, feminine sound that came all the way from her torso's diaphragm. It was as if she'd given herself over to an inner force with which she was constantly battling. I sensed that she was surrendering to an implacable code in offering herself to me. I was appalled by this – that she so suddenly wanted me – since previously she'd treated me like an oversized, self-contemptuous lug, a raw-boned boy fifteen years her junior. As I split her cunt with my tongue, her hips quivered and she thrust up at my mouth, rapidly gasping, "Uhh-uhh-uhh-uhh," as if she were stuttering. She repeated the grunting litany, then did so again. "Oooohh...babeeee...soooo...gooood!" she then whimpered, haltingly. Very gently, she placed her hands on the back of my head and turned her face to one side, and continued mewling the incomprehensible murmurs and babbling of a mature woman in the throes of extreme passion. Her insides tasted rich and salty/sweet. Her juices bathed my face as I stirred my tongue inside her, then dribbled down her taint to pool on the top of her desk. I swallowed as much as I could of her nectar, until her flow lessened, then began a slow swirling around her clit with the tip of my tongue. God, I loved the sounds she was making...the deep, rasping moans, the bleats, then the quick panting, as I flicked away at her little bud. She was now slowly grinding her pussy up at my demanding mouth...rubbing, rubbing...and the speed of her upward thrusts slowly increased, as did her moaning. She began uttering low grunts at first – every fifteen seconds or so – then their rate increased. "Unh-uuunh...unh-uuunh...unh-uuunh," she called out, then "Uuunnnggghh, uuunnnggghh, uuunnnggghh," as my tongue fluttered faster against her clit. Finally, her hands left the back of my head and she gripped her full breasts, pulling upward on her hard, pink nipples as her head began thrashing back and forth. "Nnnggh...Jimmmm...sweeet...I'm...ohhh, Jimmy!" she cried, and her labia began crashing against my questing mouth and chin. "You're...ooohh, Ga...! Gawd! I'm cu'...JIMMMMMY!" I held her down during her climax – my arms firmly encircling her upraised thighs – for a good two minutes...until her legs flopped apart. She was now relaxed and whimpering little girl sounds in her throat, once again with her hands on my head, but this time softly stroking my wet face. "I want you inside me," she finally said, grasping for me to rise from my kneeling position on the floor. "I need you inside me. Gawwwd...please fuck me, Jimmy," she pleaded. "Pleeeze!" My previous fear of Rosemary had vanished. I'd crossed the frontier of a new province in our relationship. I was the bearer of something she needed, apart from being a mere employee whom she could boss around. I'd matriculated to a new level...one in which I realized that sex could be used to gain influence over someone...even power. As I stood she looked down at my rampant cock, now having been hard and pulsating for many minutes. "How? How do you want it?" I asked, tentatively. I truly was at a loss as to how to pleasure her, so conditioned was I by her constant orders. "Oooohhh...sweet baby...you know exactly how. Gently, sweetie. Slowly...like I know you can do. Like you love me," she said. Then she began a quiet whining...a soft, though wanton, eerie sound as she reached down to grasp my cock and place it at her opening. Both of us gasped as we made contact, and I hesitated to move forward, instead remaining rooted and allowing her to part the petals of her oozing pussy with the crown of my penis. The soft, liquid, smacking sounds of our blood-filled parts echoed in the darkness as her soft wailing continued. "Now, honey...oh, please, now!" she gasped, and we both thrust at one another, our loins joining hotly – wetly – causing me to close my eyes and see fireworks explode behind my eyelids. "Aaahh, Jeezus," I groaned, and fell forward onto her, my toes digging into her office carpet. Her arms encircled me immediately, and she began whispering into my ear as we fucked, slowly and languorously. "Ahh...yeeaahh...baby. I knew you'd be good. From the first day. So biiiig...so gentle...so sweet. God...damn, you're good! Yeah! Just like that, honey. Slow and easy!" she intoned, as I stirred her insides. As I cycled in and out of her, trying to be as inventive as I could given my 20-year-old's sexual experience, I thanked my lucky stars to have been blessed by such a fantastic woman. And, I was amazed as to how easy it had been. "Feel me inside, sweetheart? Am I good for you? I wanna be good for you. You...uunngh...keep...me...uunngh...happy, and, I'll...uunngh...be extra...good for you, baby. Aaaggh...honey...I love the...uungh...way you, uungh, feel...uunngh...ohh...ohh...Gle...hon...I'm...ohh...ohh...Jimmy! You're gonna...Jimmy! Hold still! I'm...cummm-mmmiiiing! Awww...oohhh!" And, as Rosemary writhed her way through another galvanic orgasm, I let myself go. From the tips of my toes to the pulses in my brain's frontal lobe, I filled her hot, yawning insides with all the semen I thought remained in my balls. It took minutes of our clutching at one another before we even thought about allowing our bodies to part. I spoke first. "Can we have some light? I wanta see you," raising myself off her fulsome breasts. "Sure, hon, you've earned a peek," she said, amusedly, and switched on her desk lamp. Her body was more beautiful than I'd imagined, with its fair, Celtic skin tone, contrasted with the dark, nearly black pubic bush and hair on her head. Though soft looking, she was round in all the right places, without a hint of excess fat. This was a woman whose physique could surpass all those of the previous twenty centuries that were etched in stone, cast in bronze or painted on canvas. In appreciation, I tongue-kissed her between her breasts and rose, turning away, to gather my clothes. "My Gawd! Jimmy!" she gasped. As I turned toward her, she said, "Your body! It's been cut to ribbons! Did that slut do that to you?" "Uuhh...just a few scratches," I said modestly, referring to the lacerations Betty Thompson had made when we'd fucked earlier in the day. "Honeeey!" she almost shrieked. "Come here and let me help you!" I walked toward her as she pulled a bottle of alcohol and cotton balls out of a drawer. I marveled at what else she might have in her desk, since from there she'd earlier produced a dozen condoms. I guess some of my lacerations were deeper than I'd thought, since the alcohol caused a lot of stinging. The noises she made in her throat as she swabbed the tears in my flesh – on front and back – were a bit much, I thought. Nevertheless, I felt pampered and attended to, for the first time in several years. Her eyes were misty after she'd finished cleaning my scratches. "All finished?" I asked, embarrassed in my young, male way of betraying any concern at all for such insignificant wounds. "For now," she said. "But when you get home tonight, take a shower and put on some of this." She reached into her desk drawer and withdrew a tube of antibiotic ointment. "There's no telling what that had under her nails." That said, she reached for her underwear and we began dressing. The phenomenal interlude was over. Before we got to the front door, she said, "I want to kiss you here, since someone might see us outside." She leaned up on tiptoe and brought my face to hers, and her full lips – our first substantive kiss – paralyzed me with a moist, disarming feeling. A quick moan and brush of her tongue across mine promised more, I hoped, but she broke from me and strode to the door. Outside, she reclaimed her distance. Somewhat awkwardly, she reached out to shake my hand, yet her eyes told a totally different message. Being a good employee, I drove home, took a shower as my ego sang congratulatory praises, and fell into bed, looking forward to a Saturday over the books. (This is a two part story. If you want the rest of the story leave a comment.) Jimmy B. My blog JimmyB7474 is called Into The Woods (erotica) entertaining stories about a guy named Jimmy. Enjoy. |
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6/13/2017 9:27 pm |
Yes I absolutely want the second part! I rally enjoy your stories. Visit my blog @ rskinney62 & have a SEXY day!!
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Another great instalment in the adventures of Jimmy! Looking forward to the continuation! 
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Another awesome and well written story Jimmy! Having enjoyed the "charms" of quite a few older ladies when I was a young man, I know just how much you enjoyed yourself with Barbara, Kay, Arlene, Betty and Rosemary. An older woman knows what she wants, and doesn't play games the way a girl does. They also have experience, and are much better sexual partner! I look forward to reading the next chapter of this story!
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5/31/2017 5:38 am |
This story comes in two parts. Just a bit too long for just one entry. Want to read more about Rosemary? Jimmy B. My blog JimmyB7474 is called Into The Woods (erotica) entertaining stories about a guy named Jimmy. Enjoy.
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