In one of those strange quirks of fate, I found myself on a date with a decent looking twenty-something typing pool girl called Linda Kaminski. She was one of those big-boned girls with long shapely legs and hips that belonged on a farm-girl and not a girl working in an office. I had hesitated to ask her on a date because she was really what I could only describe as a "Loud-mouth" with a laugh that would put a hyena to shame. To her credit, she was definitely easy to look at with her beautiful green eyes and perfect teeth that sparkled whenever she laughed and that was quite often. Her lips were not large and puffy which was all the rage these days and she didn't wear much make-up because her skin was about as perfect as could be in a natural state.
I was assured by my informant, a certain Mrs. Horrigan that she was at loose ends after breaking up with a fast-talking salesman who turned out to have a wife down San Jose way. I had cultivated Mrs. Horrigan into a reliable source of all rumors past and present to keep me appraised of the lay of the land and insure I did not embarrass myself too badly in front of the horde of female workers that would like to punish me for not using them as playthings like the supervisors before me.
She was the one that warned me I better start dating a few of them just to squash the rumor that I was not chasing them because I liked men better than women. That made me laugh but we were in an area of California where such things were more normal than not and I guess I was a good candidate for a closet gay guy because I didn't scratch my balls and yell out "motherfucker" when things got out of control.
Mrs. Horrigan was a nice well-behaved married lady in her late thirties and she had the distinction of being the only youngish female in the office with a set of choppers in her mouth. She showed them to me when we were on break one day catching a quick smoke in the back of the warehouse. Her mouth looked so strange with her teeth out and she looked older than her thirty-seven years. She popped them back in her mouth almost immediately and I knew she had done it just to be completely honest about her lack of natural teeth. For a few seconds, I was sexually put off by the exposure but after a startled moment, I realized I was actually sexually aroused by her oral shortcomings and I wondered how it would feel to be sucked off by an attractive woman like her with her teeth taken out for a more comfortable experience. I knew right away she was fully aware of my thoughts because I had the affliction of being completely transparent to women with extensive sexual experience. She grinned at me and made motions with her lips and mouth that confirmed she was on to me and was putting me on a promise if I was a good boy and minded my manners.
I already knew her absent husband was in the merchant marine and spent a lot of time in places like Alaska and as far away as Russia delivering loads of exports that made those ships sail real low in the water and roll dangerously when the wind was high. For some reason she had confided in me that he was a sailor and loved to do it from behind sometimes finding her rear door instead of her natural female entry but that she didn't mind it too much because he was always gentle and treated her with respect.
After thinking about her revelation at some length, I decided she was letting me know that she would be accommodating to taking it "doggie " style and that if I wanted to put my equipment in her posterior channel, it would not be a problem at all. In all honesty, I wasn't quite certain if that was a comfort or slightly disturbing because the thought of the attractive Mrs. Horrigan pushing her heart-shaped backside into my groin was more than pleasant, it was satisfying sublime.
I generally didn't get involved with married women ever since an unpleasant incident on the East Coast when I found myself moving to another neighborhood because my landlord's wife was leaving her shades up on purpose just to tease me with her carnal activities in a bedroom with a distressing red light bulb that make it seem like the depths of hell with all the writhing flesh and oversized backsides mooning me from different angles. It seemed that the lady and her husband and the husband's younger sister were quite the item in nocturnal pursuits.
I did know that Mrs. Horrigan lived alone and had no children or relatives to make life difficult and for the past year I was certain she had not gone on a single outing with anyone from either sex. In fact, I was the only one she actually engaged in lengthy conversations and to whom she confided details of her married life that made me see her in a different light than the shy and quiet woman at work.
During the course of our daily coffee break private conversations, I had carefully groomed her to allow me to fondle her usually bra-free boobs and even take little excursion up her skirt to check out the nature of her undies which tended to run to nylons, garters and plain white granny panties. I did my best to disguise the fact that I found that quite to my liking because I had a fetish for that sort of thing.
Since she had a free run of the ladies room, she often teased me by telling me exactly what each of the little darlings wore under their concealing skirts and described each item in great detail including a critique on the young lady's bottom half anatomy. I found her breathless words most inspiring and generally sported a huge erection from beginning to end. It was her description of the lovely Linda that caught my attention because I had wondered how she would react to the real thing sliding up between her sturdy legs.
My informant had confided in me that the sweet looking girl carried an assortment of sex toys in her oversized purse and was often heard in the ladies room exercising her needy female equipment with the battery-driven devices. The other girls all thought she was one of those "nymphomaniac" girls that were looking for male attention at all hours of the day and night.
I have to be perfectly honest with you to tell you that I was filled with the urge to help poor Linda in her hour of need and followed up on Mrs. Horrigan's suggestion that I ask her to the Valentine's Day party at a senior Vice President's home right on the Pacific Ocean. The young lady had seemed delighted with the invitation and I hid the fact I knew she was wearing pale green with white lace thongs that were buried inside her ass crack in the back and liked to use a butt plug to keep her slit constantly in an agitated condition even when sitting silently at her desk. I am ashamed to confess my erection was probably visible to her since her head at the same level and it was only inches from her face. My advance intelligence from Mrs. Horrigan had purposely stimulated my libido to the bursting point and my spunk was almost to the boiling point ready to break the dam of civilized behavior.
The party was a lot more reserved than I had expected.