Chapter 1: Golden Signpost
Something I've learned over the years is that each day presents us with a variety of crossroads; forks in the road that can change the course of our lives. There are usually signposts, but often we don't notice them, or we ignore them. Perhaps that's because we are not paying attention, or that we simply don't recognize them for what they are. It could also be that we are afraid to take a path that looks a little risky. Not taking these new paths is a mistake because venturing along them can introduce us new experiences or new people; or perhaps let us see people we thought we knew but suddenly seem like new people. Thus was the case for me about six months ago when I found myself having lunch in the company cafeteria with a lady I've known for nearly 25 years. I either had simply passed by the obvious signpost or at least it hadn't registered because my brain was focused elsewhere. Then again, perhaps it had been in plain sight, but I simply didn't have my brain synchronized with my eyes.
But let's step back a bit and come up to speed. I am employed at a large company where I began working right after graduating from engineering school. In fact, I showed up for work the day after graduation. I had debts to pay and couldn't afford that "backpacking through Europe" thing. Like most young engineers at the company, I began my career at a work station consisting primarily of a computer loaded with all sorts of software used to create designs for new hardware and equipment. Back in my dad's day, such design work would have required a stack of pen and ink drawings as well as a lot of analysis and evaluation by multiple teams of engineers loading punch cards into stand-alone mainframe computers. In the modern world, computer software in desk-top systems could produce three dimensional designs in a fraction of the time that had been the norm in my dad's day. Integrated computers also conducted all necessary mathematical and structural analysis in seconds. The result is that design data could be loaded directly into automatic machines to churn out prototypes in a matter of days or weeks rather than months. OK, enough with the nerd history. The bottom line is that I was a worker bee at the bottom of the heap. However over the next two decades, I oozed into management and became a guy in charge of a whole product line; supervising dozens of design, development, and test people doing what I used to do.
Not long after I started at the company, two other young people who are relevant to this story also began their careers. One named Phil was more of a test technician than a design engineer. He eventually grew to be a supervisor in charge of a team of test engineers supporting programs throughout the company. Phil and I became friends early in our careers while working on many of the same projects. He and his staff still support many of my development programs. I consider Phil to be a friend. He and his wife Tonya sometimes socialize with me and my wife Jean as a result of our working relationship as well as the fact that my son Ronnie and his Jacob have been friends from elementary school through high school. They spent their high school years playing lacrosse on the same team, but now they were off to separate rival state universities where they get to face off against each other every spring.
For years Phil and Tonya as well as Jean and I reserved a table together at the company Christmas party and the summer picnic. We've often been to each other's homes for holidays and many other events from family milestones to casual cook outs to Super Bowl parties. Phil and I almost always play golf in the same foursome several times a year at charity outings sponsored by the company. We also sometimes play an informal weekend round together with some friends of mine or his. We are very compatible and have always gotten along well.
So now that you know a little about Phil, let's talk about his wife. At about the same time Phil started at his test tech position, Tonya came on board as a cost administrator in the product area where both Phil and I worked. Tonya was always a looker and full of sassy personality. A lot of the guys went on about how sexy she was. A few of them dated her. We all wanted to hear stories about how she might be a truly hot fuck or that she gave unbelievable blowjobs. We needed something to satisfy our horny fantasies about her. However the guys she dated never said much. We couldn't tell if their reticence was because they were being gentlemen, or perhaps they were just too embarrassed to admit that they hadn't scored with her.
It was a surprise to all of us was when she started dating Phil exclusively, and that in a year or so, they got married. They didn't seem to fit because Phil appeared to be somewhat of a quiet introverted type while Tonya could be the life of the party. Actually, Phil and I were a lot alike in that we are more of the classic "engineer type". Back then, we certainly weren't ever accused of being "two wild and crazy guys." Nevertheless, even in the early years, Tonya and I were always flirting harmlessly by doing things like going down the hall arm in arm or "mock dancing together" if we happened to bump into each other in the break room. This casual flirting went on for years even long after she married Phil and I married Jean. I suppose in today's atmosphere against sexual harassment and the environment of hands-off in the work place, our behavior could have gotten us into trouble. However, in reality, most people could see that it was harmless play between friends.
Eventually, Tonya also moved up the ladder and became lead auditor in charge of a whole team of cost administrators responsible for evaluating and maintaining records of expenditures on projects as well as the inventory of products, supplies, and customer-furnished materials. She had moved to another building in our four-building complex, but our paths still crossed occasionally. When we ran into each other, we found ourselves hugging in the hallway and "dancing together" like in the old days. The "new workplace attitude" wasn't going to change more than two decades of friendship. I think Tonya dared anybody to make a derogatory comment about her behavior. If they did, she could shut them down with her razor wit.
OK, back to the present. I generally don't eat in the company cafeteria because I don't really like long lines and noise. I usually just bring lunch or go to one of the many fast food places in the area. However, on this particular day, I had brought no lunch and rainy weather made me decide that lines and noise were better than getting soaked. Fortunately, it was a little later than the usual lunch crunch and there were no lines. The hustle bustle was absent, and the cafeteria was relatively empty and quiet. Walking from the cashier, I spied Tonya sitting at a table in the corner of the back room of the cafeteria. She was eating alone and browsing a book. I walked back and set my tray on the table,
"Hey sexy lady," I said. "Are you up to entertaining a lonely sailor in town?"
She looked up, and when she saw me, her face lit up.
"Matthew!" she exclaimed standing. She threw her arms around my neck and gave me a peck on the cheek. We did our little dance for a few seconds before sitting down. I'm sure anybody seeing our little ritual could have reported it as "inappropriate behavior in the workplace", but neither of us cared. It was relatively empty and quiet in the back so we could easily chat as we ate. That's when it happened, the sort of thing that I mentioned earlier about signposts and crossroads that you never anticipated. I looked down as she casually crossed her feet and stretched her legs out to the side of the table. Tonya is relatively tall at about 5 feet 10 inches, yet she always wears high heels which makes her really stand out in a crowd. She is a very stunning willowy lady. She could have been a model. She always dresses stylishly but appropriately for the office. Even in her "latish 40's", she still turns a lot of heads.
I glanced down at what people often referred to as her "eight foot long legs". That's when it suddenly caught my attention like a flashing light. Why had I never noticed it before? How long had it been there? My mind ran through several alternatives as it processed what I saw.
"Hey, dirty old man," Tonya said. "Are you staring at my legs? You want a better view?"
She stretched out her shapely legs even further to the side of her chair. In doing so, her skirt hiked up to about mid-thigh. God how I'd love to see and touch and taste what was between those firm thighs. Did all men have such fantasies and want to fuck pretty much all the women around them? Did all men lust after the women they worked with, or saw in the supermarket, or were neighbors and relatives? Was I normal or a true sleaze? I never really talked to other guys about it. I certainly didn't talk to women about it. I always liked to think that my friends, co-workers, and relatives saw me as the perfect gentleman. I didn't want to appear to be a lust monger even though I knew that deep down I was. You never knew when you might need a character witness. OK, that was a joke.
The long legs extending out from the table were only enhanced by the object that had caught my eye in the first place. My eyes followed the lines from my new discovery at her trim ankles, along the well-turned calves and up to there the skirt stopped at the middle of her firm thighs. My mind wouldn't let me stop there and carried my thoughts upward to visualize what I knew had to be a beautiful, moist, succulent pussy. Was it shaved? Was it trimmed? Was it natural? It didn't matter. I had to admit that I would love to bury my face between dear Tonya's thighs or slide my firm manhood up into the warm wetness of her slippery slot.
