Chapter 1

Intro

Harry is happy in his job in the Embarcadero. But he needs a change and heads to Palo Alto. The music of "Do you know the way to San Jose?" keeps running through his mind but it is in a slightly different area even if in the same direction. His predominantly Gay work environment is about to change into supervision of almost a dozen sweet young things in an office with almost no male workers. Still, Doreen's bent over position on the roof of his old work building was most memorable. At least, his friendly Market Street neighbor Teresa was ever available providing he has the prerequisite condom to alleviate her fears of unmarried pregnancy and the difficulty of explaining it to her fiancée back in Mexico. In part II, he makes the switch to Palo Alto working on the Stanford Campus and supervises eight females. Despite the zero tolerance concerning sexual harassment, he makes a vow to score with all of them before he moves on to the next job.

"Do you know the way to San Jose?"

The song was running through my mind like a brain-numbing Hare Krishna chant.

Of course, the only exposure I had to the saffron garbed neophytes had been at "flower power" encounters at the local airports. I did not know why I had taken the job on the Stanford Campus in Palo Alto other than the increase in pay. The job I was leaving in San Francisco was pretty good, everything considered, but the unintended consequence of being a very small minority straight guy in an office filled with gay male workers tended to wear on the nerves after a while.

There were only a few eligible female co-workers who were interested getting their baby-making equipment filled with a friendly weapon and most of them were married to boot. Not that that presented any great obstacle to my moral compass since I was quite relaxed in changing course without the baggage of guilt. In fact, I had found it to be an inducement to "getting some" when my immediate bedmate target was already swimming in the blissful waters of holy matrimony.

My boss's secretary Doreen was the friendliest of my co-workers.

She had been the one to sort of "get me settled in" on my first day of work. It was her who clued me in about the fact that most of the males were not interested in the female workers at all. She was kind of feeling me out about my sexual preferences without asking the nitty-gritty question directly. That was sort of a no-no at that time and in that place. I was young enough to be a bit naïve and always saw guys as guys and girls as girls. The concept of non-straight relationships was not distasteful, it was just incomprehensible to my way of thinking.

A few days after starting the job down on Battery Row near the Embarcadero, I found myself alone with Doreen on a little-used staircase at the back of the office building. She invited me to join her for a "coffee break" that was devoid of coffee and filled with cigarette smoke inhaled with guilty gusto. As a non-smoker, you probably wonder why I would subject myself to the dangers of second-hand smoke; but I readily confess I was quite consumed by the lure of Doreen's heart-shaped hindquarters hidden modestly under her sexily tight skirt.

Within seconds, I was cradling Doreen's breasts with my inquisitive but gentle fingers and we were swapping spit like old-school romantic lovers on a desert island. The taste of the bitter nicotine did nothing to dissuade me from my desire to push my tongue into every corner of her delicious mouth. Her hand wandered down to my heated groin and she gasped in surprise when she felt just how hard I had become from the wetness of her beautiful mouth.

"My goodness, Harry, I guess you really are straight after all. The girls all think you are just like all the other guys here and didn't really like girls."

I figured my usually passive nature and fear of rejection had formulated this opinion in the office female's minds because I seldom entered into conversation with anyone except for the purpose of efficiency in the workplace. Also, I had made no bones to hide the fact that I had no current girlfriend and had never been married.

I guess I would have to be guilty until proven innocent which went against the concept of fair play in a democratic society. I might as well be working in downtown Moscow selling Five-Year plans to a captive audience.

In order to seal my credentials as the straightest of guys, I slid my free hand up under Doreen's hitched-up skirt and began to play with her delightfully hairy vagina which she kept unshaven and scented with peach-flavored lotions that made her smell delightful on my greedy fingers. Her slit was already drenched with her shower-every-morning juices and I could tell she was really enjoying her "coffee break".

Doreen sighed and wrapped her arms around me as she opened her legs for my greedy exploration.

"God, Harry, please don't stop! I haven't gotten off for a very long time. Push your fingers right up deep inside my vagina. Yes! That is the way. Give it to me good. Make me feel it deep inside. Be real nice to me, Harry. Yes, just like that!"

The sounds of Doreen's orgasm were comforting to me.

I always enjoyed watching a woman having an orgasm. I had recently become aware of the fact that females experienced anal and oral orgasms as well. That is another story best kept for another time.

There was no time for us to take my little fellow out for a full inspection and we hastily pulled ourselves together to rejoin our less depraved co-workers chained to their desks with reluctant industriousness.

My interlude with Doreen inspired me to set a Friday night date with a chubby Hispanic girl who lived down the hall from me in a walk-up apartment on Market Street. It was necessarily a "walk-up" because the ancient elevator had not worked for many years. The pretty girl's name was Teresa "something" and she seemed to "jiggle" all over when she walked or climbed the stairs. I was first attracted to her when I walked behind her up the stairs. We were both carrying bags of groceries from the market and I noticed she had selected the same type of French bread which stuck out of the top of the bags.

"Hi neighbor. My name is Harry. I see you like the same bread. It is so delicious with soup. Do you live here alone?"

The girl giggled and stood 3 or 4 steps above me on the stairs. When she bent over to push the bread down more securely in her bag, I could see right up her frilly summer skirt. Her ass cheeks and pussy were absolutely bare and she had carefully shaved all of the hair from her puffy pussy lips. I felt certain she had to know I had this glorious view and she was enjoying the fact even more than I could ever do.

"Oh, Mr. Harry. Was that your Mama I saw you with last Sunday?"

I stifled a heartfelt chuckle.

My erstwhile "Mama" was actually a mature drinking companion I had talked into an early Sunday morning fuck session in my cluttered apartment. I had to admit she was a bit long in the tooth but her ability to gyrate into seldom assumed positions was truly an education in itself.

"No, just an old friend of the family. I live alone. My family is back East."

Teresa shifted a bit on the stairs. I could see her pussy lips a little clearer now. There were a few glistening drops of female dew visible to reveal her hidden excitement. It was obvious to me this was a female that desired the immediate insertion of a stiff cock.