Jenny put on a brave smile. How do I get myself in these things? she asked herself. It was too late to back out now. She'd wanted to work here, and she'd stayed, even when she'd found out what was going on. And because she'd stayed, she knew this was going to happen.
She unhooked her bra and put it with her blouse. Then she lay back on the cot. She could see her mother on the next cot, and how her mother's legs wrapped around Mr. Graham's legs as they did it. She'd read all of the descriptions in the magazines and books, she'd heard the stories her friends had told, but the reality of it ... Mr. Graham's dick glistened wetly as it slid in and out of her mother.
Who would have thought her mother had sex. Oh, she knew she must have at one time, but now? And that wasn't even Dad. That was some guy in the office, and ... Her mother moaned softly, and she began to hitch up on the man.
And then it was her turn. Jenny felt the bed shift as Mr. Thomas, Dave, rubbed his dick on her tummy, and then pressed it down between her legs. It was exciting and scary at the same time. She'd pictured her first time in some apartment, or maybe a hotel room, or even the back of a car. She hadn't expected it to be in the break room at Hubbard & Associates.
She couldn't help it, she caught her breath as he pushed. It felt ... weird. She'd sort of thought it would feel like putting in a tampon, but this was nothing like that. He was so big, and she had no idea how he was going to get all of that thing of his in her. No wonder girls said it hurt.
She kept waiting for the pain. She'd read dozens of books where the girl's first time had been marked by a fierce pain down there when the man had torn her maidenhead. She felt a lot of stretching, and it was certainly uncomfortable, but no real pain, at least like she'd read about.
He shifted slightly and pushed again. She had to gasp. It felt like he was pushing a freaking log up inside her. And she could see, over the curve of her tummy, that most of his thing, or at least a large part of it, was still visible. That meant this thing was a monster.
"God, you're tight," he muttered.
"You're just so big," she replied. She'd learned that from one of the trashy novels she'd read, and from something one of her girlfriends had told her. "Tell the guy how big he is. It makes them feel like studs."
Dave pulled back slightly and pushed again.
For just a moment Jenny caught her breath. That had felt so good. If he'd do more of that she might like this.
Dave, though, seemed intent on getting all of his dick in her. He pushed again, and this time he got more in. Then, apparently satisfied with that, he began moving, rocking back and forth.
This was a whole lot better. It still felt weird, sort of like she was stuffed up, but it also felt a little like those times she'd touched herself, usually after reading some racy passage in a book.
Every time he thrust he seemed to get a little deeper. It felt better, and then, suddenly, if felt a whole lot better. She felt wide open, and the feeling of him sliding inside her, rubbing places that seemed to be on fire, that was ... No wonder her friends all liked doing it.
He sped up, his legs hitting her thighs and making a slapping noise. She felt something against her bottom. She tried to imagine what it could be, and failed. Then, glancing at the other cot where her mother and the guy were just getting up, she saw the little sack that hung next to his body. Could that be it?
Dave suddenly slowed, made a noise deep in his throat, and then stopped. His face was absolutely still, and his eyes hooded. Then he bent over and kissed her.
] This she was familiar with, though doing it with a guy's dick inside her was a new experience. But she did enjoy kissing, and this was a very intimate way to do it.
"God, you're good," he murmured.] ]
He pulled back, she felt his thing slide out of her, and she felt curiously empty. He settled beside her and put his arms around her. That felt good, like she was something fragile, and he was protecting her.
This, she thought, wasn't what she'd expected when she'd interviewed for a position in the main offices.
She'd been working for the company for just over six months. It was the first job she'd landed out of school, one where she could use her shiny new Network Technician Certification. She thought she'd aced the interview, and tried to hold in her glee when she'd been offered the job the next day.
At first she'd worked in the remote office, doing little more than a glorified help desk. But after the first two weeks she'd had to install and configure a new server. That was more like it. And over the next couple of months she'd done more, installing new PCs, putting in the new routers, and debugging network problems. It'd had been just like in school, only better.
When she saw the opening for the central office, she'd applied in a heartbeat.
"Are you sure?" her mother asked one day as they waited for the bus. "You know what goes on there."
"I'm sure." She'd given her mother a bright, chipper smile. Of course she knew what went on in the office: work. Hubbard & Associates did a lot of third-party-administration, and that needed a fairly complex network that could tie into other peoples' systems. That's what people did there.
This interview was a lot longer, and got into personal things. She was a little taken aback when the HR woman asked what her birth control method was.
"I beg your pardon, I don't see where that's relevant."
"Our benefits package pays 100% on most forms of birth control," the woman said. "If you happen to be using one of them, fine. If not, you might want to consider alternatives."
"Oh." Okay, that made sense. "I use the pill, every morning with my vitamins."
The woman handed her a brochure. "This lists the brands we cover."
She had read through it, and spotted the brand the doctor prescribed. "It's here."
"Good. All right, we also change your benefits to include..."
She'd landed the job, but she wasn't in the main office. Instead she was in the one next door where a lot of people interned before moving to a different job. She'd been busy there, constantly adding or removing nodes on the network, and even configuring sub-networks for specific tasks.
"I almost never see my desk," she told her mother one night. Her mother had asked about her social life. What could she say? She dated, a little, but none of the guys she'd met really appealed to her. Some only wanted one thing, and while she did, too, girls weren't supposed to do that, were they?
Her friends, well a couple of them, certainly seemed to play the field. Suzy slept around, or at least her stories made it seem like she did, and Karen, she acted strait-laced, but she had a wild side to her, and there were certain rumors ... She'd thought of sleeping with a couple of the guys she'd met, but had never quite worked up the nerve.
One thing that was peculiar, funny-weird, not funny-haha, was that she was reading a lot more trashy novels. These were the ones where the heroine hopped from bed to bed and lover to lover with wild abandon, and the author went into fairly explicit detail about what happened. And her dreams had been getting more and more specific. It was a good thing she wasn't living at home, her mother would probably comment on how messy her clothes were some mornings.
Apparently she did a good enough job that she was offered a chance to work in the main offices. Partly that was because one of the others went on maternity leave, and partly because she kept pestering Wendy, her boss, into giving her more to do.
That first day in the inner offices was a complete shock. Everyone had been naked! Well, not butt-bare naked, but naked from the waist down. They'd entered the office, and Wendy had casually removed her jeans. She had a really cute blouse on, but from the waist down she wore just sandals. As did everyone else.
She could feel her cheeks flaming, and she tried not to look. But people seemed so casual about it. Mrs. Haggerty was talking with some man, and she her delta was plainly visible. So was his dick, and it wiggled back and forth as he walked toward her.
Wendy didn't say anything until they were back in her office. "I see you've noticed one of the differences between here and outside," she said.
"I was ... is..." She paused, suddenly aware of her clothes. "Is that ... normal?"
"Quite normal. It's been that way for, oh, seven or eight years. There's more, but one shock at a time."
"And you expect me ... I mean, do I have to..."
"It's the dress code here in the main offices."
"Even Ms. Hubbard."
She had seen Ms. Hubbard on TV once, a thin middle-aged woman, and the idea of her appearing half-naked made her head spin.
"You'll get used to it in a few days."
"What about ... what ... you know, that time of month."
"Most girls will wear something," she said. "I wear a thong, but Kerry who works next door just wears her regular panties. It's only for a few days, and everyone understands."
"And..." She swallowed nervously. She'd gone topless at a beach once, but that had been with a lot of other girls around for support, and they'd nerved themselves up to do it. There were a lot of women in the office, but still...
"One thing," Wendy added as if showing her sex was the most casual thing in the world, "you can't talk about it."
"Can't talk about... ?"
"What you see and hear." She slid a form across her desk. "This is a non-disclosure agreement, and you have to sign it."
"Um, uh, okay."
She'd signed, and thought that was the end of it. But Wendy had tapped her fingernail on her desk, and she realized she was going to have to undress right then and there. She automatically checked to make sure the office door was closed—it wasn't!—and then unsnapped her jeans. This was a lot harder than any gym class she'd ever been in. There it had just been other girls. But this... ! Her mouth was dry and her hands were shaking as she pushed her jeans off.
The panties were worse. She wanted to turn away from Wendy's amused look, but then she'd be facing all of the other people in the office. She pushed them down, and then promptly sat down and crossed her legs.
"You'll want to wear these sandals," Wendy said, placing a pair on the desk. "I'd go barefoot, but the carpet has staples and other things like that."
Reluctantly she undid her sneakers. "Now what?"
"Nothing." Wendy handed her a work order. "These have to be done. And don't forget to take a floor shield."
She gestured at a piece of plastic the size of a dinner tray. "The rug can be hard on our behinds, so we put this down when we're under a desk."
That made sense, and so she took that and headed back to the server array. At least she was alone back there with no one to stare at her nudity.
Wendy was right. After a few days she was used to it, sort of. It helped that everyone else was dressed, or undressed, the same way. She did get one shock: some of the women did more than trim their bikini line. Some had reduced the hair down there to a thin line, one girl had trimmed hers into the shape of a heart, and one ... She stopped and stared, and then guiltily looked away. The girl had removed all of the hair down there. She was as bare as a young girl.
It was rude to stare, and so she looked away. But over the next few days she saw more women that way. Finally she had to ask.
"Guys like it," the girl said, shrugging. "It's okay. You just have to make sure you don't knick yourself."
She'd flinched. That was too much information. She considered the idea, and actually did some trimming, but she hadn't taken it all off. She wasn't sure why; maybe she'd be too exposed.
Her next discovery had been what went on in the break room. She'd never been much for a break. She'd grab some tea and carry it with her. And lunch was usually eaten outside. But one day, as she was pouring a cup of tea, she heard some gasping and moaning from a partially-closed door in the break room.
She'd eased it open, and was surprised to see a couple on one of the beds in there, and they were having sex. There wasn't anything hidden or furtive about it either. They were both naked, and she could see them on the bed clearly going at it. It was both the most exciting and the most disturbing thing she'd seen.
She'd watched for a couple of minutes. The woman's moans had gotten louder and louder, and finally she caught her breath. The man had moaned, his bottom moved up and down rapidly, and then he'd relaxed.
Feeling as if she'd violated their privacy, she started to close the door. She froze when she saw the woman's face. It was her mother, and the man with her most definitely wasn't her father.
She deliberately sought out her mother after break. "What's going on here?" she asked. "I saw you during break."
"You did?" Her mother smiled instead of blushing. "That's Bob. He works in Receivables, and he's pretty good. Or at least I think so."
"But you were..."
"Having sex?" Her mother nodded. "That happens a lot around here. Didn't you know that? Evidently not," she added after looking at her daughter's face. "This has been going on for several years. I don't know how it started, but one day things just started happening."
"Does Dad know?"
"Of course not. This is ... what happens here stays here. I'm not sure he'd complain too much, though. We've been a lot more intimate these last few years."
"You mean you two..." Try as she could, she just couldn't picture her parents in bed having sex. Okay, her mother was, she'd seen her. But her father? Her overweight, balding father? Somehow she just couldn't picture him as sexy.
"It's like when we were on our honeymoon," her mother said.
"But here, strangers... ?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."
Her mother sighed. "I wouldn't call us strangers, not any more. And this is for fun. Haven't you ever seen some guy and wanted to have sex with him?"
She had, especially lately, but... "Well, a couple of guys I've seen are pretty hot.'
"Around here you can."
"But aren't you afraid of getting some yucky disease?"
"Not here, we're all careful. It's not like I'm getting picked up in bars or anything. People here only have sex with their spouses, so there's no worry about that. And we're all on birth control, so nobody's getting pregnant. So why not?"
"But ... I thought sex was, you know, like when you're really close to someone, and you know, you do it."
"Ever just have it because it's fun?"
She hadn't, she hadn't ever gone to bed with a guy, but she couldn't come out and say that, could she? "But this is ... I don't know, slutty."
Her mother laughed. "That's a joke around here. Personally I think a girl should let her hair down once in a while. She should do it in a safe environment, though, and that's what we have here. I can go with Dave, or Tony, or any of the other guys here, and for a few moments we can share some passion. It's not love, though Wendy did marry Brian from Accounting, and the private reception after..." Her voice trailed off. "That was a lot of fun. Anyway, this is just for fun. Try it."
"And it's relaxing. A woman's body isn't meant to be so celibate. Good sex makes you happy, it relaxes you, and it gives you a great cardiovascular workout. You did notice, didn't you, that there's no Exercise Club here."
She hadn't, and said so.
"Why spend 15 minutes on a treadmill when 15 minutes in bed with a guy will give you the same workout, but is a lot more fun?
"Now think about it. I've got a ton of work to do, and we can talk later if you want to."
She did want to talk, but that reminded her of what she still had to do. She mumbled some excuse and went back to what she'd been doing.
What her mother had said made sense in a weird way, and the following weekend she went over to her parents' house. She could see the way her parents were acting: there was a lot of touching and smiling; it was like what she pictured happening on a honeymoon, and she began to see some of what her mother must have seen in her dad.
Now that she was looking for it, she could see the little signs of affection around her, fingers lingering on a shoulder, or a quiet, shared smile. In other companies that might have let to a harassment suit. Here it just seemed to be the way things were.
That afternoon she saw another problem: she had crawled under a desk to do some work. There was an air vent there, and it kept blowing her bangs over her face. She wanted to brush them out of the way, but she needed both hands to wire in the junction box. Her mind kept flashing back to her mother, and the way her hips had pushed up against the man. She'd always thought the guy did all of the moving, but obviously not. And her mother seemed to be enjoying herself. She kept making little 'um' noises and gasping.
She could picture herself doing that, especially if she moaned like her mother had. Like mother, like daughter people had always told her. And the image of a hard dick down there kept flashing through her mind. It was hard to concentrate on the job with that image constantly replaying.
She heard a step next to the desk. She could see a man's ankles, and realized that she was flat on her back, her legs parted a little so she could slide farther under the desk, and that meant everything was visible, just like if she was in bed with a guy. Somehow that made her feel excited. Her middle was all warm and wet, and she had to consciously hold her legs together rather than letting them flop open.
She slid out from under the desk, and the first thing she saw was a guy's dick, half-hard, only a few inches away. A lot of things may have flashed through her mind, but the only one that stuck was that she wanted it. She wanted to feel it, to see what had her mother so excited, and to finally do it. She'd reached up and touched him.
She got back to her desk, and sat there, staring at the wall. Was that what all of the excitement was about? This definitely wasn't the way it happened in the stories she read. It'd been ... okay. There'd been nothing earth-shaking, no rockets blasting off, no wild surge of emotions, just the strange feeling—strange? No, different—of a man down there.
Should I quit? she asked herself, and immediately shook her head. The pay was much better than any other place, and while she still felt self-conscious about people seeing her down there, she could live with it. All of the other women accepted it, and so it wasn't like she was the only one. And as for the sex, if that's what it was all about, she could put up with it. Especially for the pay and benefits.
"Does that make me a whore?" she said softly. "No, just being practical." She looked at one of the men as he walked down the aisle, his dick wobbling back and forth. Then he stopped to talk to someone and she saw his butt. She'd never see something like this anywhere else, and she licked her lips.
When he turned back around she could see his dick again. It was a little longer, hanging down past his balls. It was a brown with a pink head, and it didn't really wobble, not any more. Now it swayed a bit as he walked.
She wanted to look away, but she couldn't, fascinated. One of the other techs had said each guy's dick was different. She wondered if that included the way they felt when they were doing it. Well, there was one way to find out. And Sally, one of her friends, said some guys would really turn you on, and others wouldn't. She should know, she'd slept with at least four guys before she'd found the right one.
"Does this make me a whore?" she murmured as that dick wobbled. She'd read that some hookers didn't like it, only having sex because they could make a lot of money at it. And as for being a slut, her mother did it, and she wasn't one. So did wanting to do it with a guy she didn't even know make her one? She wasn't sure. All she really knew was that if someone asked her she could have described the guy's dick, but couldn't have told them anything about his face, his hair, or the rest of his body.
"I couldn't help but notice you staring," he said in a pleasant baritone.
"What?! Oh! Um..." His brown eyes looked warm and inviting. She wanted to sink into them. "I, uh..."
"You're fairly new here, aren't you?"