In the late 70's I worked as a computer programmer for a company that supplied accounting software to small businesses. Our company was located in a research park next to the campus of a state university. Part of the business model for my employers was to take advantage of that location by hiring interns from the university. Internships were a good deal for both the students and our company; the students got valuable job experience to put on their resumes when they graduated, and we got cheap labor. And it was fun to have those young people around our shop.
During the first year or so that I worked there, I only had limited contact with the students, but finally I was assigned my own intern. My student turned out to be a young lady, which was somewhat rare. Most of the programming students in those early days of computing were guys. And not only was she a female, but a very attractive one at that.
The first time I saw here was when my boss, Jim, was giving her a tour of the shop. She had been accepted as an intern, but at this time it had not determined who she would be working with, so Jim was introducing her to everyone. I was working hard at my desk, focused on the code on the screen in front of me when I became aware that Jim was standing behind me and was talking to me. "Hey, Jerry, I want you to meet our new intern. Karen, this is Jerry. Jerry, Karen."
I spun my chair around, and noticed right away that this was not your ordinary geeky programmer. The first thing I saw was a great pair of tanned legs emerging from a pair of very tight white shorts. Those shorts were so tight that from where I was sitting, I was treated to the outline of a very well defined set of pussy lips. Karen was tall, probably 5'9" or so, and very slim, but like I said, she had a great pair of legs, and I am a leg man. Before my gaze had even made it's up to her face, I had decided that it was my turn to have an intern. We stumbled through a quick greeting, and I went back to work. Later that day, I made a point of finding Jim and made my pitch to have Karen work with me. Surprisingly, Jim quickly agreed, and for the next few months Karen worked closely with me for twenty hours a week.
Of course, I was happily married, and fifteen years older than Karen, so it was strictly a working relationship. I did look forward to seeing her each day that she worked, but it was nothing more than a little reverse-age puppy love. It was enough for me just to be able to hang out with her and have her smile at some of my silly jokes. And I have to admit that she became the object of some erotic daydreams for me.
Gradually we became friends, and she started talking about everything going on in her life. She was very candid about discussing even intimate details of her love live with me, which I attributed to our new friendship. She obviously trusted me. Karen had been having a hard time with the guy she had been seeing for the last year. When I heard how bad he was treating her, and how miserable she was, I told her she should dump him. As it turned out she had been thinking about doing that for awhile anyway. After she told him to get lost, she felt much better, and she told me I was her hero to her for helping her make that decision.
I thought that was going to be the extent of our relationship, and I was content to just be a coworker and mentor to her. But that changed suddenly and without warning one fateful afternoon.
Our company was fairly small and it was a very friendly atmosphere. Everybody knew everybody, and we even got together socially with our families. So when one of our co-workers announced that she was leaving for a higher paying job in another state, it was a big deal.
On her next to last day we took her out to lunch. This was a common occurrence for birthdays, promotions, etc., but this one was a little special, since we were losing a friend. The whole shop went that day, and we packed the little Italian place that she had picked. As the luncheon was winding down, someone suggested that we should move the party to a nearby bar that had a couple of pool tables and a juke box.
It ended up that only about seven or eight people actually went to the bar. After one round of beers, the party had been reduced to just four of us, Debbie, the guest of honor, Marcie, her best friend, Karen, and myself.
We claimed a booth in the back of the bar and got down to some serious drinking. The conversation somehow turned into a joke session, and I was a little surprised to find out that Debbie are Marcie not only enjoyed dirty jokes, they knew some pretty raunchy ones. I actually found myself blushing a few times.
Then things turned a little weird. About the time we were finishing our third round of drinks, Debbie and Marcie got serious and began talking about their sex lives. I just sat there, listening, and making sympathetic noises occasionally, but it was like they had forgotten that Karen and I were still there.
Debbie, it turned out, really liked oral sex before intercourse, but could rarely get her husband to oblige. Marcie, on the other hand, had the opposite problem. Her husband always wanted to go down on her, and she really didn't care that much for it. Debbie had trouble accepting the fact that any woman would not enjoy oral sex. "What does Dale do that you don't like?" she asked.
Marcie did not hesitate to answer. "I don't like it when he sticks his tongue into me. It just feels weird. The only thing I want stuck in me is his man meat."
Debbie asked her, "Does he ever suck on your clit? I just love that, but Brian only does it for like ten seconds, then he is ready to screw."
Marcia screwed her face up in a scowl, "Ugh, I don't like that either. I'm just too sensitive down there, it makes me feel like jumping out of the bed."
I cringed at the candor of the two slightly inebriated ladies. I snuck a glance at Karen, who was sitting next to me. She was sitting there with her mouth hanging open, as if she could not believe what we were hearing either, but she didn't seem to be as embarrassed as I was.
Debbie saw Karen staring at her, and got her involved in the conversation. "OK, Karen, you're pretty quiet. Why don't you tell us how good the young guys today are at pussy licking?"
"Uh, well, I... ," she stammered.
I could sense how uncomfortable she felt at being asked that question, especially with me there. I tried to get her off the spot. I jumped into the conversation and suggested that maybe a wife-swapping party between Debbie and Marcie and their husbands might solve some of their problems. I meant it as a joke, but all I got were glares from the two ladies. That was like peeing on the campfire, it pretty well killed the party. Marcie suggested that it was time for us to get back to work.
I discovered when we got up to leave that I had gotten more than a little horny listening to them. I tried to do a quick turn to hide the bulge in my pants as I slid out of the seat, but I saw Karen staring at my crotch, and she gave me a little grin as we made eye contact.
Debbie and Karen had ridden with Marcie from the restaurant, and I had driven my own car. Marcie wanted to take Debbie straight home, since she was too drunk to go back to the office, so I volunteered to take Karen back to work. Karen and I piled into my tiny little Chevy Chevettte (this was the late seventy's, remember?), and headed back to the office.
I was a little embarrassed by how cheap my car was, AM radio, stick shift, and no air conditioning. When we got in it was quite hot from sitting in the parking lot. "I haven't told you the bad news yet," I confessed. "No air!"
"That's OK," she laughed, "I won't melt."
She did adjust herself for the hot conditions, though. She was wearing a light, summery dress (why don't young girls wear those anymore?), and she pulled it up until the hem settled several inches above her knees. I couldn't help noticing that her legs were spread apart a little more than I would expect from a young lady.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, the wind blowing through the wide-open windows pushed her dress a little higher on her legs. I hadn't seen those beautiful thighs since the first time I had seen her in those shorts, since she normally wore jeans or pants to work. Every time I went to shift gears, my hand brushed against her leg. The first time it happened, I said "Sorry," and I thought she would move over a little. But she kept her leg there, almost as if she were enjoying the contact.
"So what did you think of that conversation?" she finally asked.
"I thought it was kind of strange," I said. "I didn't know women talked about things like that with men around."
"Yeah, but it looked like it got you turned on," she said, returning her gaze to my lap.
Now it was my turn to blush. My erection had gone away quickly after I got up, but Karen's attention was causing it to return. I wasn't sure how Karen had gone from an innocent college intern to this wanton, sexually aggressive female so quickly. It seemed like a dream come true, an attractive, sexy, young girl was flirting with me, but I didn't know what to do about it. I've never been much of a ladies man, and now I was totally tongue-tied, and my brain had frozen.
But she wasn't just flirting. Either because of the candid conversation, or the alcohol, Karen was definitely turned on. "You know, I like oral sex as much as Debbie does," she purred. "My boyfriend wasn't very good at it either, but I have a hunch that you are," she smiled at me suggestively. "Why don't we drop by my apartment, and we can find out," she whispered, as her hand started caressing my now very erect cock.
.... There is more of this story ...