Chapter 2

It was the following day that I was introduced to another means of enjoying the ladies of Hosking’s. I had, as usual, taken the mail to the typing pool and been assigned an escort. We were to take the typed mail to be signed and dropped off at the various offices. This would later be collected by the afternoon mail guy who took it to the post room for franking and the Royal Mail collection. Apparently, the afternoon guy was nearing retirement and only worked afternoons, hence my morning duty of mail delivery. Nor did anyone have a problem with me doing it, it was just accepted and ignored, plus there was no way I was going to complain.

My escort this morning was Tina. She was a friendly young lady of about 20, engaged and clearly off limits to me. Hence I was wondering at Mrs. Saunders’ choice of escort. I found out when I dropped the mail off with Janet Becksley for her senior manager.

“Ah, Martin,” she greeted me. “Would you be an angel when you come back and give me a hand to shift some of the confidential files we have here into storage?”

“No problem, Ma’am,” I politely replied.

“I can help too,” Tina offered.

“Thank you, but no,” Janet replied in kindly tones. “They are quite heavy and dusty and I’d never hear the end of it from Beryl if you went back having breached the dress code by looking scruffy.”

“Oh, oh yes,” Tina nodded, quite happy with the explanation as the company at this stage was very strict on how you appeared, particularly the ladies of the typing pool, not so much the younger men working at the back of the offices, who were usually not seen by visitors.

Fifteen minutes later I was back in the senior manager’s outer office, standing in front of Janet’s desk as she pretty much scoped me all over.

“Well, Martin,” she stated in a husky voice. “Let’s see what it is that had the typing pool so excited,” before going and locking the office door.

“But ... the manager?” I replied, slightly shocked.

“Is out for a business lunch and won’t return until late today ... if that,” she answered with a predatory smile.

“OK,” I shrugged a little nervously before undoing my belt and dropping my pants and underwear.

“Hmmm, I can see why they’d be impressed,” she commented with a slight giggle as she reached out to grab my semi-turgid cock and give it a squeeze.

“Ooh!” I gasped as my body reacted immediately, making me go rock hard in seconds.

“Even more impressive,” she giggled again. “But first, before he is put to work, you need to do something for me.”

“Something?” I asked slightly confused.

“I’m sure Doreen sucked you off?”

“Er ... yes.

“Well, you can do the same for me ... in a manner of speaking.”

“Ah...”

“Allow me to teach you,” she said and unzipped her calf length pencil skirt shimmied it off. This was followed by slipping her full-size panties off, revealing a sparsely haired pussy framed by her dark stockings and suspenders.

Janet then took my hand and led me over to a sofa in the room and she sat on it, legs apart. “Take a good look,” she giggled.

I was awestruck. What glimpses I’d so far had of pussy had been tantalising and not up close. This was the first time I’d come ‘face to face’ with one ... in a manner of speaking. Janet’s pussy was practical perfection: two well-defined nether lips; soft, almost downy hair showing a clear, pale pink centre, glistening slightly and smelling delicately of female musk.

“Kiss it and use your tongue,” she hissed.

Taking it as a command, my tongue and lips latched onto her pussy and I sought out the raised area that I’d learnt touching it had thrilled Doreen, and ran my tongue over it. The taste was actually delightful and her nectar of desire was already flowing freely.

“Oh yes!” she exulted quietly, making sure her voice did not carry through the door.

“Mmm,” was all I could enunciate as I lapped away.

“Oh, you lovely boy! You lovely, lovely boy!” she moaned as her body stiffened and waves of pleasure washed over her.

I was actually in heaven. I had never dreamed that so much pleasure could be had from simply tasting a woman’s pussy. Feeling her react to what seemed such a perverse process, even if it had me as hard as I’d ever felt before, was something new.

“Oh, you have such a beautiful touch, Martin,” she groaned.

“You taste so good, Janet,” I replied as I moved away from the feast for a moment.

“You think so?”

“Oh yes!”

Though I would get better with cunnilingus (as I later learned it was called) Janet was both easily pleased and a good teacher as well. She soon told me what worked and my own senses could tell by the trembling of her legs what worked as well.

“Enough!” she eventually gasped. “I don’t normally do this but I want you in me!”

I stood and pushed my pants and underwear aside while Janet stood and then made me sit as she moved over me, parting her legs and then guiding herself down to sit on my lap with my cock nestling inside her before moving up and down on it slowly and lasciviously, giving a moan of delight at each full penetration.

It was clear Janet was in absolute heaven as she gradually picked up the pace, her movements becoming faster and more powerful as she ground herself down on the base of my cock. She seemed to realise I was close and just as I exploded, she did, desperately trying to keep the noise down.

“Oh wow!” she finally exclaimed. “You. Are. A. Treasure!”

“That was incredible,” I gasped out.

“That it was, but now I need to send you on your way whilst I tidy myself up and open a few windows,” she giggled.

“Of course, Ma’am,” I chuckled, going back to work politeness again while I quickly cleaned myself and dressed.

“See you soon, young Martin,” she nodded as I opened the door and slipped out and, hearing the lock click shut behind me, I trundled my trolley back to the mail room.

The next day was going to be a good one as far as I was concerned. There was a chance of sex with some woman, but more importantly it was my first payday. I did know that my mum would expect me to tip up a third to cover my bed and board, but that would still leave me with my own money to play with.

This time my escort into management territory was Millicent, a rather large lady in her mid-fifties. For all she was a bit on the large side, she had a pretty face and a wicked laugh. She already had me semi-hard in anticipation of sampling her delights. Still, appearances had to be maintained. Hence we simply were polite to each other as we went through the route, ensuring the correct offices got the correct mail. As I suspected, Millicent wanted to enjoy a little sexual assignation with me and swiftly led me to the rest room and was soon in my arms, her lips plastered to mine.

One of the things I had noticed was that none of the ladies wore any lipstick when we enjoyed each other and I’d been able to guess which lady would be indulging herself today when I arrived at the typing pool.

The kisses were passionate, but, Millicent was clearly in a hurry as we broke apart and she rapidly stripped down leaving herself naked to my sight.

“Come on, Martin, Get your clothes off! I want you in me!” she demanded.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied, rapidly stripping off.

“You can call me Milly when we’re in here.”

“Yes, Milly,” I repeated myself as she lay down on one of the plush rugs adorning the room.

Yes, Milly was a bit on the large size, but it was all distributed nicely, including her breasts. Not that my cock cared, I’d been rampant since our first kiss and wanted inside her as soon as possible. Yes, at that stage of my life I was that shallow and yes, the ladies all knew it, but tolerated my youth for the pleasure it gave them. That said, they all taught me a lot over the few years we indulged, enough that my future wife appreciated the mature young man who asked her out on our first date and loved the skill I brought to our marriage bed after the wedding.

That was in the future, naturally, and I was living in the here and now and dropped rapidly to kneel between Milly’s chunky thighs and slip a finger into her valley of delight to find out she was indeed ready, willing and able. Two seconds later she had hold of my cock and was guiding me into her tight passage with a squeal of utter delight.

“Ooh, that’s just what I needed,” she moaned as I began pistoning in and out of her.

“Nice and tight!” I moaned back.

Milly was tight, despite being a grandmother, having had three kids herself. She was also very enthusiastic about our committing adultery (as was I). In addition, she also orgasmed very easily which made me feel damned good about our coupling as I felt I was ‘doing it right’ in a manner of speaking.

Holding off though, as ever, was my problem from the first time and my pace increased as I felt myself about to blow.

“Just go for it,” she moaned in my ear. “You’ll last longer the next time.”

“Gah!” was all I could enunciate as I pushed into her as far as I could get and coated her pussy with my cum in several blasts of sheer pleasure.

“You lovely boy,” she purred. “I can tell you liked that.”

“Oh yes! I love doing that,” I confirmed.

“Most young men do. It’s a shame that the older you get the less interested you get,” she giggled.

“I hope not,” I nodded, kind of seeing the truth in her statement from the women I’d fucked so far.

“Ah, if only my husband were as keen as you. But, his loss, your gain,” she replied with a sultry smile. “Plus you’re a wee bit bigger than him ... or other men I’ve enjoyed.”

Naturally this sort of talk was having an effect on me; I was rising to the occasion again, something that Milly noted with a broad grin.

“We are going to have so much fun!” she grinned as she turned over to take me from behind.

Well, I needed no further encouragement and pushed my way back into her tight, slick, pussy to enjoy her abundant charms. I was in absolute heaven. Milly was delightful in her exuberance and was rapidly bringing me to the boil again.

“Ooh, looks like we’ll have time for round three,” she giggled.

In this, Milly was different from the other women I was fucking. To her, probably because she orgasmed so easily, the ultimate thrill was feeling me coming inside her, as if it proved she was a woman who could still get the ultimate from a man time and time again. There was no cold calculation with Milly, or reluctance, she was simply a BBW who loved sex as often as possible.

With a heartfelt moan, I again exploded within her before falling back to sit upright.

“So good,” Milly said with a grin.

“Best thing ever,” I agreed.

“Certainly is for women once you remove the risk of getting knocked up,” she nodded.

“Doesn’t it worry you ... you know, your husband?” I asked tentatively, realising I was on dodgy ground.

“Hmmm,” she enunciated thoughtfully. “It’s different for all women ... and men, I guess. To me it’s about fun and getting an itch scratched that my hubby ... whom I actually do still like, even if he’s gone off sex due to drinking too much and just can’t manage it. I don’t consider it cheating if he can’t or won’t provide what I need. That’s his lookout not mine; which is more like the way men think. All I do is make sure I don’t get caught.”

“Oh, right. I did wonder, but was kind of scared to ask in case it stopped.”

“That’s OK, you can ask me or Doreen I guess. But not the others,” she nodded. “Karen does it because she needs it but isn’t getting it at home and tries to keep it anonymous. Janet because she can get you to do stuff she’s ashamed to ask for from her hubby. Others will all have their own reasons; they’ll tell you if they want to, but don’t pry and don’t gossip or boast either.”

“Thanks, Milly. I don’t and I won’t,” I confirmed.

“Good boy,” she nodded. “Ah, ready to go for the last time today, I see,” she finished with a grin.

“Oh yes!”

I got home that day feeling utterly drained. Milly had been incredibly demanding and had pushed my youthful stamina to its limits. Still, I was proud, for the first time, to tip up my room and board to my Mum, the first in my family to do so. It wasn’t a lot, admittedly, I was only an office junior after all, but to me £13, 7s and 6d was a small fortune and my Mum also told me she was going to take me down to the bank on Saturday morning to open my first savings account.

At fifteen, I was too young to pretty much do anything an adult could, so saving for my future was a pretty good idea for me and set up a habit that I’ve kept going until my comfortable retirement decades later. I was also one of the ones in my generation that didn’t take up smoking, though did enjoy a pint or two once I could get away with going into a pub. I kept fit by cycling to and from work through the week and going out with my mates at weekends to visit the local towns and sights, at least until I started courting my wife-to-be and spending weekends with her.