Chapter 1

Well, I’m 65 now and my lover is 19.

Back in 1967 when I was 17, I worked for my best friend’s dad, and we had sex.

What, you want the long version? Ok, here goes...

It seems as I got older, my lovers got younger.

I haven’t had a lot of lovers, really; some relationships I had lasted for years, some were just one night. One kink that I had was doing it with my boss. All my life, wherever I worked, I just had this intense urge to have it off with whichever man I worked for.

I don’t know why, but the Haas men are different for me. I guess that’s why I always ended up working at Haas engineering again, whichever generation of Haas was in charge.

I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s, sex was cool, along with rock + roll, marijuana, protesting the war, and dropping out.

I was a straight girl from a straight town. I didn’t smoke marijuana or protest the war. I kept my affairs as secret as I could. That gave me freedom to do what I liked without fear of being judged.

Part 1; My first boss is my best friend’s dad; My best friend Evon was the slut; I had a boyfriend, she had 8. Not all at once, keep your pants on.

When we were 17, Evon ran off with some hippie guy to San Francisco. I got a summer job with her dad, secretary for his small engineering shop.

I liked working there. I was the only girl and there were 4 men. No, I didn’t have sex with them!

Not all of them at least.

I liked the attention, I liked being the woman. I dressed nice and their eyes would follow me around the place. They appreciated me, and I appreciated them.

My skirts kept getting shorter, and my heels higher. It was 1967, the world was changing and no one seemed to know what the rules were anymore.

My boss Henry liked to compliment my appearance. He was 45 I think. I thought of him as a father figure, I didn’t realize his thoughts were very different. When he put a hand on my shoulder, my response was a smile.

That lead to more touching; what we would now call inappropriate touching, sexual harassment, and that sort of thing.

Back in 1967, if a boss felt like feeling up his teenaged secretary, no one was going to say a thing about it. I didn’t.

I had mixed feelings; I liked the touch, the affection. And I didn’t.

He would stand behind me and rub my neck and shoulders, or run his fingers through my hair. I liked it when his hands stroked my skin. It calmed and excited me at the same time.

One morning he hugged me and kissed my forehead. That seemed ok. Fatherly.

He had a way of looking at me, his eyes relaxed yet vigilant. Eyes that heated my belly, stiffened my nipples, and softened my vagina.

I wasn’t naïve, and not a virgin either. I knew what my feelings were, I just didn’t take them seriously. I was sure his little flirtations were innocent. I was sure wrong about that.

The next day, the hug went a little longer, and he held my ass in one hand.

So I was shocked to realize that my friend’s dad was feeling me up, and there was nothing fatherly about it.

I felt a strange sense of surrender. I didn’t struggle or push him off, I just went limp, my mind stopped working as my boss slid his tongue around my lips and squeezed my teenaged ass in his big strong greedy hands.

One hand went under my skirt, and his fingers slid against the bottom of my right cheek while his other hand held my head. My own hands rose and held his ribs.

He was an attractive man. Big and terribly strong, his body shaped by military training when he was young, followed by a life of heavy work.

I could have said no, or left the job; I tried not to encourage him but did nothing to stop him.

The phone rang and he let go, jumping away as if shocked. I just went on as if nothing had happened, answering the phone like always; “Haas engineering, Delores speaking.”

The next morning I felt weird as I went to work. What should I do? Let it go, leave the job?

Henry pulled me onto his lap as he sat in his office chair, he grinned at me and put his hand behind my head and made me kiss him. And still, I didn’t object, even though by then I knew where it was going.

I was scared, horrified, and attracted. I knew I should rebuff him, and I knew I wouldn’t.

Because when he did those things to me, my vagina went wet and my nipples went stiff. I didn’t want to want it. I just did.

His hand was on my upper thigh, and I was sure he was about to slide it up and finger my 17 year old pussy. Instead, he stood up and set my high heels back on the floor, and without a word went out the door into the noisy workshop. I stood there a little wobbly. I was so weak, powerless compared to him.

I met my boyfriend after work, made out with him, and we had sex that didn’t satisfy. There was nothing wrong with him, he was a nice boy with a nice body, a nice smile, a nice penis.

Nice just didn’t work for me.

I came into work early, I don’t remember why. My boss and I were alone.

He stared at me, his dominant eyes sliding up and down my long thin body. I was wearing my normal outfit, a skirt that barely covered my ass, nylon stockings, high heels, a tight top with open shoulders. I was pinned to the wall by his greedy stare, terrified by his power over me. My heart was in my throat and my pussy was pulsing, screaming the opposite signal to the one my brain was sending.

“God damn, Delores.” He said, grabbing my forearm in his big powerful hand, “When you look at me that way, I can’t resist you anymore.” His breath was in my throat and I thought he was going to kiss me again, and probably run his big strong hands over me. I stared into his smoldering eyes, speechless. Helpless.

Without another word, he pushed me face down over his desk, lifted my skirt, and pulled down my underwear. I lay there, silent, still, waiting. I knew it was about to happen and I didn’t want it.

But I did.

I’d known Henry since I was 8. I’d slept over at his house, and eaten at his table. I loved his daughter, I loved his wife.

This was evil. A betrayal of everyone. At the same time, it was 1967, casual sex was in style.

He pulled my cheeks apart, and slid his finger along my crease, and then into me. The sensation was crazy; terrifying, wonderful, horrible, intense. I just lay there tits down on his desk, my feet on the floor as far apart as was possible. I was aware I needed to resist this, get myself together, refuse.

But how could I refuse Henry? He was my boss. I was used to doing whatever he wanted. Type this, send that, make coffee for everyone, add up the time cards.

He commanded I obeyed. I worked, he paid.

His finger was stirring me around. I shuddered, I was shocked, frozen still. It should have been horrible, I was aware that I shouldn’t have enjoyed it.

“You’re wet!” he declared, “I knew it, you kids today are all doing it all the time, aren’t you? Yeah well, just stay still Delores, stay!”

He was talking to me like a literal bitch. And he was going to do me doggy too. Then I felt it, and I knew it was more than a finger.

Blunt and big, it teased, then eased into my tight young teenaged vagina. It was big. And it felt fantastic. So wrong that it was right again, so depraved it was perfect.

Henry was big.

Yes, I know I already said that, and I’m going to say it again. My best friend’s dad had a huge pecker.

And it did something to me. It pried me open, filled my empty space, reached deep into the dark, slid way in there where my boyfriend could never get to. And it hit something there, and within seconds, it made me come.

My head sort of exploded; a frothy wave of pleasure as my cheek lay against his desk, his hands like steel clamps on my hips, and his big cock filling my body, pumping in and out, long and easy.

Wham, wham, wham ... my boss’s big hard penis went in and out of my prone acquiescent vagina, fucking me over his desk before work. I could hear his breath, his guttural grunting, his pleasure and his conflict.

It was surreal to me; this couldn’t really be happening, Henry was a good man, a family man, he wouldn’t do something like this. Neither would I. I wasn’t a good girl, but I wasn’t nearly bad enough for this.

Wet and tight, deep and hard, I could feel it right up to my belly. Hot and invasive, dominant, I was his to do with as he wished, I was his secretary, his girl.

Actually, I was bad enough.

Henry grunted and held it deep inside as he came. Just squirted me full of seed without a hint of hesitation.

It was just a couple of minutes, a quicky, yet very satisfying. His semen lubricated my body, his strong hands on my hips as his thumbs pressed into my back made me feel helpless. I felt a strange powerful emotion then, a new feeling.

I realized I hadn’t loved, and that I wanted to love; and I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to love Henry. And I knew I was fucked.

Henry pulled his cock out of my body, lifted his pants up and buckled his belt; he left the office without a word. He felt guilty; I felt like a door had just opened that I’d never even known about.

At the same time, I felt guilty too. What would I say to his wife? How could I still be friends with Evon? I was thinking I should quit and find another job.

“Listen Delores.” Henry said to me the next day, “I’m real flattered, but that can’t happen again. I’m a married man, and a Christian. You have to find yourself a boy your own age. Now if you want to keep working here, you need to keep your hands to yourself, and get some longer skirts. Are we clear?”