I always recognize summer by the arrival of a new crop of interns. This year was no different.
One, a pretty, slender, kind of exotic looking young girl with waist length brown hair, named Kris, said she'd like to ask me something and wondered if we could have lunch.
My momma didn't raise any kids stupid enough to turn down a lunch date with a pretty young girl.
Instead of going to the cafeteria, we got our food and moved outside where it was more private. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and small talk about the job; she was obviously uncomfortable and not anxious to broach the real topic.
To try to get things moving—and to get to the point before the end of our lunch break—I finally asked, "So what's on your mind?"
She got a "deer in the headlights" look on her face. Then she put down her sandwich and asked, "Have you ever had a blowjob?"
Fortunately I didn't have anything in my mouth and so I didn't choke. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't this.
"How old are you?" Somehow I had the presence of mind to ask.
"Eighteen."
"I want to see some ID." I have enough problems without talking about stuff like this with a minor.
She fished around in her purse and pulled out a driver's license. The picture on it was definitely her, and the date of birth showed she turned eighteen a couple of months ago. I was satisfied and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Yes," I said, not having a clue where this was headed. "Why would you ask?"
"Well," she said, "I figured you'd be pretty experienced because you're older." She really knows how to make a guy's heart go pitter-pat, but I didn't say anything; I didn't want to spoil the moment, whatever "the moment" was going to end up being.
She looked down at her hands and wouldn't make eye contact. "You see, I've never given a blowjob." I admit I was surprised. "I guess I just wasn't ready to put a boy's penis in my mouth." Interesting choice of vocabulary. "But I'm going to go to college in the fall, and I know it'll be expected."
She paused, but I still kept quiet, letting her get it out in her own way and in her own time.
"So I was wondering, you being older and experienced," she really knew how to flatter a guy, "if you'd teach me how to do it." She kind of sighed after she got that out, and twisted her hands around in her lap.
I figured honesty was the best policy.
I said, "Well, that wasn't what I was expecting, but sure, I'll be glad to help you out." So would any other straight guy, I thought, but, of course, I was smart enough not to point that out.
"Meet me in my office after work today," I suggested. She said, "OK," and with that lunch was over and we had to get back to work. I wondered how much work she'd get done in the afternoon; I was positive how much I was going to accomplish.
As the building emptied out after quitting time, I stayed at my desk, pretending to go through some paperwork. Fifteen or twenty minutes later Kris came in, obviously nervous. I told her to close the door and to try to relax: I wasn't going to attack her or otherwise hurt her. She nodded dumbly as she moved to shut the door.
I stood up, moved from behind my desk, and had her stand close in front of me.
I said, "As far as I'm concerned, blowjobs are given topless and kneeling. So drop the top."
She was wearing a sleeveless cotton blouse that buttoned down the front. She slowly undid the buttons, while keeping her eyes downcast. Anybody else, I'd have told to stop dallying and get out the tits, since I didn't want a striptease; but I didn't want to do anything to spook her.
She finally pulled off the blouse and stood there in her bra, eyes still downcast. "The bra, too," I said.
"They're not very big, just 32B."
"That's OK," I said, "I like 'em small," which is true as far as it goes: I like them small, big, and any size in between. They're tits, after all. What's not to like?