Gloria, my secretary, my friend, my fantasy and now, my lover. I had known her for more than ten years and wanted her every day of it before I finally had her. I knew she'd be good the first time I ever saw her, but I didn't think I'd ever find out for sure. She's married and happy to be. Even now, after we've fucked each other silly a number of times, she's still in love with her husband. And that's fine with me. I've been married more than once and I know it's not for me. I'd try again for her, but not unless I could give her at least as good a life as she has now. For all of those ten years and more I enjoyed what I could of her. Her friendship, beauty, and the occasional peek up her skirt or down her blouse were all I thought I would ever have. All the while I was in love with her and falling deeper every day. For ten years I watched as she turned down every pass that anyone made at her. Then, after all that time, things just seemed to fall into place and, with a little nudge from me, we fell into each other's arms. I was walking on air and I couldn't wait till we were together again. She had turned out to be so much more than the fantasy that I found it hard to believe.
Gloria. Four foot eleven, with hair of golden brown, cut so it just brushes her shoulders. Most people would say she's a blonde because you have to know it already to see that it's really brown. She's really a brunette, but only a small tuft of hair above her pussy gives it away. She has brown eyes and legs that can hypnotize a man; strong, but smooth and soft. Small breasts. Small ass. Small everything in fact. There are times when she barely weighs ninety pounds, and she seldom lets herself go above a hundred. Until you've experienced it for yourself you don't know what it is to fuck a woman this small. You can do anything; it's like you're Superman or something. You can see in her face that she's not a child, but you would guess her to be at least ten years younger than the forty years she really has. From the back or at a distance you might mistake her for a teenager. To me she's the picture of beauty, my dream girl come to life.
I'm not a bad-looking guy, if I can say that without showing too much of my vanity, and I've never really had a difficult time finding girls. This one though, was different; in lots of ways. For one thing, she was the first married woman I had ever approached. In all my life I never had hit on a man's wife, not for real anyway. I've always been a little flirty and I didn't care who I flirted with. I knew and they knew and, more importantly, their husbands knew that I was just being playful. There was only one other time that I felt myself really going for someone's wife. He was a good friend and so was she. One day I realized that I was getting a little too close to her. I was thinking about her a lot and playing over in my head what I should say to let her know how much I wanted her. Then it struck me that I shouldn't do this. These were my friends. They trusted me and loved me as friends do, and it was obvious that they loved each other dearly. I couldn't intrude on that and I couldn't stand the thought of their love and friendship turning to hate. I saw that, no matter what the result, if I opened my mouth that would be forever gone. I chose to let the friendship stay, but I quit going to see them. I'd rather have friends I didn't see than to make bitter enemies of them.
Now this isn't to say that I never stole anyone away, far from it. Back in high school and up into my late twenties I stole plenty of girlfriends from other guys, even guys who were my friends. In fact, one of my friends used to make a joke of it. He once said, "If I were a knight in the Middle Ages going off to fight in the Crusades, and I gave you the key to my wife's chastity belt and told you not to use it except in dire emergency, I bet I wouldn't be a hundred yards down the road before you came running up behind me yelling, 'It's the wrong key!'" Well, except for the wife part, I guess he wasn't so far wrong. I did steal three of his girlfriends, so he had a right to say something like that.
With another friend I can remember I stole a girl from him with him standing there; or rather walking I guess I should say. We had all gone to a concert together, Jefferson Airplane (That's Jefferson Starship to those somewhat younger than me, and 'Who?' to those of you who are a lot younger than me) and we were walking back to the car after the show, all a little bit high. There was Kenny on one side, Linda in the middle and me on the other side as we half walked and half stumbled along. Now and then I'd look at Linda and she looked too good. She had long straight brown hair, parted in the middle as was the custom at the time, pretty blue eyes that always seemed to be smiling, full lips that would just draw your eyes to them, long legs that were tanned and smooth, an ass to make your mouth water and a set of tits that were unreal, you couldn't get two hands around one of them on a bet. Anyway, Kenny had his arm around her waist and was really struggling to keep his feet under him and I just reached over and took her hand. She looked down at my hand, then up at my face and I saw this little smile spread across her. We kept walking and I noticed that she kept getting a little closer to me all the time, and she kept that little smile. When we got to the car we let Kenny pass out in the back while she snuggled up to me in the front. We dropped him off home on the way to her house and I drove away with my new girlfriend. Kenny was mad at me for about a month, but he got over it. I made the mistake of taking a friend with me to visit Linda one day and he took her away from me. What goes around comes around, as they say.
I see I'm off track here. The point is that Gloria was my first in lots of ways. She was the first married woman I ever approached, she was the first one that made me so hot that I didn't mind eating her pussy after I fucked her, she was the first (and only) secretary that I've had come into my office for a little sex play during the day, she was the first friend I've had turn into a lover and still stay my friend and she's the first woman I've had who could wear a size zero dress. There are lots of other firsts with her, but that's enough for now.
Back at work on Monday, after our first time in the sack, she seemed a little distant during our early morning petting session. She still sat in my lap and let me run my hands up and down her body, searching out all the hidden places, but she had this thoughtful look on her face and she wasn't returning the favor. She was very quiet. This went on all week and I got a little worried by it. Then Monday came around again and after a few minutes she got up out of my lap and sat across the room. For the rest of the week she wouldn't sit in my lap at all and she only came into my office when it was really business. By the end of the week I was at a loss. I knew that this was the weekend when she was free to meet me and I wasn't sure whether I would get to see her or not. So, I confronted her and asked her what was going on. Why had she been so distant all week? Would we see each other on the weekend? What had I done? What could I do?
She told me that she was scared and that she felt guilty for what we had done. She was afraid that all would be found out and that she would lose her home and family. She said that she couldn't do it anymore. I was heart-broken and at a loss for words. How could I argue with that? The last thing I wanted to do was to cause trouble for this woman who was, after all, still my friend. Oh, I know I could have used this to my advantage and threatened to expose her if she didn't continue. It probably would have worked, but then I'd lose my friend. I didn't want that, so with a sad heart I walked away. I am, still, a pretty decent guy in spite of all this. I have a certain code of honor that I follow even if she had made me cross a few of the lines. I couldn't be mean and selfish with her, not just to satisfy my own urges.
Each day seemed to drag on forever. At home I relived the days we had spent together, stealing time from work, and the Saturday we had spent fucking and sucking till we couldn't go on. I'd try to think of something that would turn her around again and bring her back into my arms and my bed. At work I'd look up expectantly every time I heard footsteps outside my door, hoping that she would come in and say she wanted to try again. When she actually did come into my office I would savor the moments, looking her up and down, drinking her in with my eyes, watching for the slightest sign that she might be softening. But she was only doing her job in her usual, efficient manner. She would come in, ask for my opinion, give me a message or whatever had brought her in and then she'd go. This went on the best part of a month and I had just about given up all hope that she would ever be mine again.
