Chapter 9

I awoke the next morning to the site of Rhonda Jo running around like a mad woman. “Maybe you can lie around in bed all day,” she informed me, putting the finishing touches on her outfit, “but some of us actually have to work for a living.” She gave herself a once over in the mirror.

Her short brown skirt and jacket looked great, a contrast to the flashy red number she wore last night. Satisfied with her appearance, she turned and strut to the side of the bed. Bending over she gave me a kiss. “Thanks for a good time sailor!” Turning again on her high heels she strutted her stuff right out the door.

I laid there, trying to shake the sleep off when Margaret walked in. “Good morning John. Here’s your coffee.” My secretary was an interesting phenomenon. Slightly older than I, about 8 years I remembered, she had short blonde hair. At 5’5 she was average height, but appeared to be on the plump side. She typically wore loose fitting clothes so it was hard to tell, but I suspected her breasts to be quite large, as was her ample ass.

“You have a 9 am with your CIO to discuss hardware upgrades. At 10 Smithers from the Atlanta office will be here to discuss forecasts. You and Ms. Jones have a lunch with a charity at 12. While you shower, I’ll pick out your clothes.” Turning, she entered my closet. I sighed, then followed orders.

It was a busy day, to be sure. At the end of the day I was kicked back in my office chair when Margaret came in. “If there’s nothing else...”

“Nope. Take off.”

“Thanks, I’m looking forward to a nice workout. Oh, would you mind terribly if my daughter joined me for my workout?”

“Nah. Go for it.”

Whoever had our building before had built several workout rooms for the employees use. The ground floor had a large one for all the employees, but the sixth floor had two “executive” workout areas, one for men and one for the ladies.

I was fairly liberal with the definition of executive, but as it turned only Rhonda Jo and Margaret used the ladies gym. Not that I didn’t have plenty of females in upper management, but they chose to either use the common area or not use the one here at all. Since I knew Rhonda Jo had already left for the day, I knew Margaret had the run of the place.

I fought the urge for a long time. I knew it wasn’t right to spy, but after half an hour could no longer deny my curiosity. I went into my apartment, and flicked on the TV. Kicking back on the sofa I dialed in the ladies workout room.

There was Margaret, wearing sweaty shorts and a t-shirt bent over a treadmill. Next to her was a woman clearly the younger version of Margaret. The back of her shirt read “Mandy”, and somewhere out of the dim recesses of my mind I remembered Margaret telling me that was her daughters name. She’d once told me her daughter was 23, but that was over a year ago so was probably 24 by now.

They looked like they’d just finished, and I followed them on cam to the changing area. The changing room was actually a series of eight small rooms. Down a well lit, green marble floor four doors lined up on either side. Each door led to a small tiled room six foot deep by four feet wide. Just inside the door was a shelf and rod with hangers for clothes. Beside that was a chair, then a shower area.

I expected them to each take a cube, and was surprised when they both entered the same one. I switched the cam and turned up the volume. Ah, here was the moment I’d been waiting on. I watched in fascination as the two began to strip. Holy SHIT!

Margaret’s tits were not big. Not huge. They were fucking enormous! Had to be G, probably H cup. Her ass was big too, round and jiggly. She had a slight tummy, but not overly large. Her daughter Mandy was right with her, nice big F cup tits and a smooth, round ass. While Mandy’s pussy was shaved her mom’s was covered with a light patch of blonde hair, letting me know they were both natural blondes.