Chapter 1

Delores, a most unsuitable woman.

She kept staring at me; her big blue eyes seemed to follow me around the office.

I had a hardon all day, which was extremely embarrassing. But there was nothing I could do about it; even when my back was turned, I could see her big breasts and little smile.

It was a busy day, my first day at work. I had to learn my way around, meet the guys, connect. I kept finding reasons to return to the office though, and fill my teenaged head with the resplendent Delores.

While Juan was showing me how to use the swaging machine, she swept through the workshop. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep his eyes off her; her long colorful dress was pinched in at her narrow waist by a wide belt, her high heels clicked on the concrete, her breasts dominated the space as she tossed back her great mane of straw blond hair and asked Juan about the details of some order she was billing.

“Be careful of that one.” He said to me in Spanish as her round rear swiveled back to the office. “She’s a dangerous woman.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He shook his head, refusing to answer.

Customers came in, and she flirted with them in an easy, familiar way. She knew them all, and they knew her. They left with the parts and material they’d come for, and their heads filled with Delores.

She kept looking at me too. Her eyes were pointed in my direction whenever we were in the same area.

At 5PM, the guys all went home. Delores locked the front door.

“So, Tommy.” She said to me, taking off her glasses, “We haven’t had time to talk. I was devastated to hear about your mother. Was she happy down in Mexico?”

“I think so.” I said, “We lived in a small peaceful town. My stepdad was good to her.”

Delores had said she’d been a close friend of my mom; but my mother had rarely mentioned her.

“I want to know everything.” she told me, “I miss her so much! Say, why don’t you let me make dinner for you, and you can fill me in.”

My cock was pulsing against my thigh. I’d do anything, say anything, just to be able to keep talking to Delores. How could a woman in her forties look so hot? Maybe I was so horny any woman I got close to would drive me up the wall, I thought. I missed my Mexican girlfriend.

I helped her whip up a simple meal. She popped a bottle of wine, but I told her I don’t drink.

“Have a half glass.” She insisted, so I did. I didn’t like it, the taste or the feeling of intoxication. Delores drank the rest of the bottle as we ate and talked.

Her cleavage was showing, her smile was roasting me, my cock was chaffing against the inside of my pant leg every time I moved. My head swam a little from the alcohol, and my mind was focused on my desire for this utterly unsuitable woman.

“Tommy, you have to stop looking at me that way.” She said as we finished our meal.

“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I knew perfectly well.

“Like a hungry cat looking at a bowl of milk.” She said, getting to her feet and gathering the plates. “THAT can never happen between us. Forget it, Tommy.”

“I can’t.” I said, following her to the kitchen. “From the moment I saw you, I can’t get your face out of my mind.”

“I don’t think it’s your mind that’s the problem.” She laughed, bending over to stack the dishwasher.

“I saw you looking at me, too.” I argued hopelessly.

She straightened up and turned her big breasts to face me. “I used to babysit for you. Your mother was my best friend growing up, I even dated your father for a short time.” She said.

“Then why do you look at me that way?” I asked.

“I don’t.” she said unconvincingly.

I just looked into her eyes, mesmerized. And she looked back. She was single. She was no virgin like my Sarina. I knew that if I did get Delores to make out with me, it would probably go all the way.

“Stop that!” she said.

“What?”

“Trying to seduce me. You’re an attractive young man Tommy Haas, but that moon eye trick won’t work on me! I used to babysit you!”

“You said that already.” I pointed out as she turned and switched on the machine while I admired her long tapered figure. She dated my father she said; did they have sex though? That would be a deal-breaker for sure. My cock didn’t care, but I understood that Delores would.

“I used to...” She began.

“Go on.”

“I think I’ve had too much to drink.” She mumbled.

“You used to what?”

“To get you to sleep, I used to let you ... Nurse on my breast. And you’d look up at me with those same eyes you’re looking at me with right now, and you’d just be so content. Don’t you see, Tommy? That’s why you like me. You recognize my face.”

My mouth watered, forcing me to swallow.

“How old was I?”

“One.” She said. “The first time, you were one. But then you’d never go to sleep without it. You used to ask for it. It was our secret; I told you, “Never tell mommy”.

“How long did that go on?” I asked.

“Until your mother ran off to Mexico and found Jesus there.” She said, “When you were four.”

“Titty.” I whispered, “That’s what I used to say. “Titty.”

She looked shocked, and stumbled backwards into the hall, unsteady on the high heels she was still wearing. Her mouth was open, her face oddly blank, and her eyes stared at me as if terrified. Her big breasts bounced as her backside stopped against the wall opposite the kitchen doorway.

I stepped forward, reached out my hands, and held her hips. Her eyes grew bigger, her mouth fell open.

It was my moment, and I knew it.

Sarina was a nice Catholic girl, and we used to make out. There was always this moment when I had to take the initiative, pull her close, squeeze her delicious female body tight. She would always object at first, but then she’d let me kiss and fondle her. When we reached her real boundary, she’d let me know.

“Oh no, Tommy.” Delores mumbled, “No, that’s not...”

Was it the wine? She might have been sloshed but I’d only had a half glass before dinner. Was it my crazy hormone washed young brain? My insecurity and loneliness?

I pulled her tight. Her breasts pressed into my chest, puncturing my heart. My hands slid up her spine to her shoulder blades, to her slim helpless neck. She struggled feebly as I clamped her head in my hand and her full lips met my mouth. I kissed the hot older woman, kissed her hard with my wild adolescent passion.

She was soft, pliable, acquiescent. Her thigh pressed against my hard penis.

She went limp for a moment, unable to resist the strange attraction. I grabbed her luxurious head and kissed her, pressing my penis against her, my hands running over the exposed skin below her long neck, as my hand slid down her back my finger caught the zipper of her dress.

It wasn’t intentional, not consciously at least. But as the thin fabric opened, the smooth surface of her back was exposed to my touch. Her mouth tasted of the wine; was she drunk? Did I care?

The feeling of my hands on her naked skin was electrifying, she was trying to push me away but I couldn’t let go. She pulled her luscious lips from my mouth and twisted from my grasp, flushed, panting.

“Oh god Tommy!” she gasped, “Why did you do that? We can’t be like that.”

She was only an arm’s length from me. Her words said no, but her face said yes.

Sarina was like that. She always said no, but once I had her in my arms, she’d let me kiss and fondle her. Sometimes she’d even grip my cock in her little hand through my clothes. But that was as far as it ever went. She was a good Catholic girl of my village, and marriage would have to be at least proposed before her clothes could come off. That was the way of things there.

Sarina was off limits; Delores was not.

Delores held up her palms; “No, Tommy!” She insisted, pressing her back against the wall again.

She’d been flirting with me from the moment we’d met, she was sexy, she was not a Catholic virgin. I wanted to hold her, squeeze her, kiss her. I wanted to love her. Her dress was loose, falling from one shoulder, her hair was disheveled, her eyes unsure.

“Show me.” I said.

“No, Tommy!” she repeated, “We can’t! I want it too, I really do, but you know it’s wrong.”

“I need to see them.” I said, indicating her heaving breasts. “I want to remember.”

“You should go.” She said, “Please.”

“Just let me see them.” I begged, “So I can remember. Then I’ll leave.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t remember.” She mumbled.

We stared at each other for several long seconds; a battle of will, of desire versus decency. Then her long elegant fingers went to the hems of her dress, and slowly pulled the half open garment down her creamy shoulders. She stepped away from the wall as she arched her back and reached behind to unhook the wide strap of her bra. It fell away, and her great breasts fell into the small space between us, filing the kitchen with blinding magnificence.

They hung low against her chest, plump and white, the nipples pink and standing proudly upward with delicious, eye watering intensity.

“So beautiful.” I gasped, truly surprised that she’d exposed them to my greedy gaze and even more surprised at my powerful reaction. I was so excited, so afraid, my stomach was quivering and my hands shook. Delores stared back at me, both of us frozen in uncertainty.

My hands reached for the lovely mounds of womanhood, unable to resist their pull.

“Oh no, Tommy!” Delores whispered, “You shouldn’t do that.”

She acted as if pinned against the wall, when all she had to do was step to the side. Instead she stared at me open mouthed as my palms contacted her big breasts, the nipples scraping against them as my wrists rotated until my greedy grasping fingers were below and my thumbs to the sides. I lifted them, feeling the wonderful weight, the full fluid firmness, the primal attraction of the tits I had once known.

I couldn’t stop. I knew I should have, I’d promised to leave her alone for just a glance. Delores was silent and still as I bent my neck and took her left nipple in my mouth.

The sensation did nothing to quell my desire; her taste was subtle, her scent was mind bending. The smell and sweat of her day. The nipple rolled around my tongue, I wasn’t sucking it, the nipple was sucking me, pulling me into the vortex of my earliest memories and needs.