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A Workplace Affair

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2015-02-11

This is a true story and deviates from the truth only through my forgetfulness of details. There are a 101 stories to be told of my affair with Norma but this is an account of the beginning. Comments encouraged.

In 1970 I got my first factory job in a small town in Arkansas. Before long the majority of the workers voted for union representation and went on strike. I didn't. I knew they were unskilled labor and would quickly be replaced. They were. I worked in the warehouse where rows of shelves held boxes of our finished product. I won't say what it was; it would be too easy to identify the place and the persons herein mentioned. My job was to take the boxes as they came from manufacturing and store them on the shelves in the warehouse according to catalog number, and then retrieve them again to fill customers' orders. They were then stamped and shipped. One of the new employees, Norma, worked in an assembly room adjacent to the warehouse the majority of whose workers were women. I don't know why but Norma took a liking to me almost from her first day on the job. She would stop by my desk to talk and flirt as she came in to work and on her breaks. I was very shy (still am) and found it difficult to talk to her.

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   She was not a particularly good looking girl, being a simple hillbilly gal. Her black hair and olive skin testified to her Indian heritage. During our chats I learned her age (24) and that she was married to a husband in the army deployed overseas. Germany, I think. I, too, was married and her overt attentiveness made me a little uncomfortable. Besides, I didn't want my co-workers to see me with her. I was embarrassed to be associated with her. One morning I was at work unusually early and she showed up early, too. As usual she sought me out to talk. Suddenly I was inflamed with a complex mixture of emotions: lust, spite, curiosity, and a touch of rage. I took her by the hand and led her to a part of the warehouse where I knew there were some empty upper level shelves. I climbed up and had her join me. I laid her on her back and kissed her. I kissed her long and I kissed her hard. As I kissed her I let my hands roam over her body.

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   She was a slim and trim young lady. Not very buxom but quality. I felt her breast through her shirt and an ill-fitting bra. I unbuttoned her shirt and pulled a cup of her bra from one breast. I suckled her tit. Her breast was a good handful and her nipple was crinkled and hard. Judging from her coos and whimpers she was enjoying the attention to her breast. I eventually stopped to grasp the top of her pants. She raised her hips as I slid her pants, panties, and all down her slender legs. Immediately I caught the aroma of a wet and willing pussy. I was amazed at what I saw. Her pussy was the hairiest I'd ever seen. The coal black hair was long and perfectly straight. I combed my fingers through her bush seeking her moist opening. When I found it I teased it open with my fingers and tested her snatch.

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   Yes, she was wet and ready. I mounted her and prepared to penetrate her. "Don't cum in me," she whispered. I slid in easily and began a steady rhythm. I wasn't there to make love. I was there to cop a nut and, hopefully, teach her a lesson. I continued to saw in and out of her. She had a tighter pussy than my wife. This was my first ever lesson in comparative fucking. It did not take very many minutes before I felt that urgent precursor to cumming. I respected her wishes and withdrew just a second before I shot a large wad of spunk between her legs, onto the cardboard shelf liner below. It felt like a huge load coming out and looked like a huge load pooled on the cardboard.
    We quickly made ourselves presentable. It was only minutes before it was time to punch in to work. This was the first time that Norma and I fucked but it wasn't the last.

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       She told me where she lived, 20 miles from my house. When I could get away I would sneak over for a quicky. Sometimes at work I'd climb into the self where we fucked to look at the cum stain I left behind as if to remind myself that it really happened. We both found others jobs. Sometimes we would rendezvous in the town cemetery after work and neck like teenagers. I had a friend who allowed Norma and I to use his bedroom for our trysts. Norma introduced me to lots of sexual variations with which I was unfamiliar, particularly oral and anal. Her marriage failed and my marriage failed but Norma and I continued to see each other and had lots of great sex. I got a vasectomy and after I explained to her what it was and its benefits, I was able to cum in that hot, honey-coated pussy at last. We eventually got into swinging and swapping and attended may sex parties together. We had a threesome with my best friend Ted (another story) and we had a threesome with my cousin Mary (another story). When the comet Hale-Bopp was visible in the sky, we were out in the country on a gravel road fucking like crazy in the backseat of my Olds 88. Our relationship lasted 40 years. My several marriages during that time did not deter us. As the years passed Norma lost her desire for exotic sex, or at least her tolerance of it.

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       She gained a lot of weight (that's okay; so did I), her hearing failed, her hair turned grey (mine , too), but worst of all that magnificent mop of black pubic hair thinned and became sparse. She stopped going to parties with me. She stopped swapping. She stopped doing anal. With all those items on her "Not To Do" list I might as well stay home with my wife. It has been a year or more since I last saw Norma. I sometimes think to drop her an email but remind myself she has done nothing to get in touch with me. So that is a sleeping dog I just let lie. .

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