The Right to Serve

Note 1. I originally wrote this one in 1999. I have re-edited it and changed a few details but essentially it is the same story. I wrote it as I could not find anything like it back then. I have not updated it to the present, it was and still is a 1990s story.

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It all started innocently enough. I was at my desk on a bright, sunny afternoon in late September and just messing around with Illustrator on the PC. Our department had just finished a major project and we were all waiting for the next 'big one' to come in. A woman walked into our office, just in the periphery of my vision. I did not turn to look; it was a big open plan office with about twenty people working there.

People walked in and out all the time, I paid no attention to the women. She walked closer to our corner of the office, brushed past my chair, and then stopped. My supervisor was not at his desk. Then she spoke to me. "Excuse me but I'm looking for Martin, is this where he sits?" I swung the chair around and looked at her fully, for the first time since she walked in. As I replied I 'checked her out', in the few split seconds I had to look at her face.

"Ah, yes, he is usually sat there, um, he must be about somewhere. Can I help at all?"

I had seen her about the building before but had never spoken to her. She was possibly in her late Forties but probably early fifties; she was of medium build and dressed well in a flowing summer dress. I also immediately noticed her eyes, they shone out from her face, big, smiling eyes that made her face look radiant.

She frowned, "Well, I have just received this fax detailing an invoice that has not been paid. It states that your department bought a book with the title of Advanced Radiography and that you have not paid for it. Do you know if it was bought or not?"

"Ah, I think we did and it arrived about three months ago but it was the wrong book so Martin sent it back via the post room. They'll have a record of it."

I smiled my best smile at her.

"Oh good, yes, that's fine then, I can sort it from here then, thank you."

She started to walk away as she did so I had an urge to keep talking to her. Her voice was soft, lilting and very easy to listen to. I also wanted to keep looking at her lovely face and her beautiful eyes.

"Excuse me but what's your name?"

"I'm Kerri, Kerri Shepton. Kerri with an i and not a y, and yours?"

"I'm Dave, Dave Robertson."

"Yes, thank you again Dave. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Kerri then turned quickly around and walked out of our department. My gaze followed her all the way. She fleetingly looked back at me as she went through the swing doors and she smiled again. I felt uplifted and refreshed. Kerri had done something for me and I did not even know what it was. She was at least ten but more like fifteen years older than me, not exactly a woman with a fantastic figure or obvious beautiful looks but she had something that had captivated me.

I began to ponder the complications of sexual attraction, the theories of beauty and the biological urge and the unknown impulse that made me speak to Kerri. I had a drink of water and then got on with the serious business of wasting the rest of my day on the computer.

Life continued pretty much as before that September afternoon. A new project came in and diverted my time-wasting activities into more constructive work-related enterprises. Work briefs came in, computers whirred, graphics were drawn and designs flowed out of the department. I continued only to see Kerri fleetingly and at a distance.

The latest project hit a hitch after a couple of weeks and we waited while a major decision on it was taken by the powers that be on the upper floor. Again, the department fell into a lull, a few smaller projects were still in progress but nothing pressing. During the lull I was at lunch in the canteen with Alison, an old friend of mine from college, when Kerri came and sat down on the opposite table. She said hello to Alison and then made a point of greeting me very warmly. We both said hello back and carried on eating. Other people joined Kerri at her table. I tried not to glance over too often but I could not help it.

We finished lunch and left the canteen. I asked Alison about Kerri.

"Ali, who's the woman who spoke to us?"

"Kerri, she works in accounts. Kerri Shepton, why?"

"Oh, she came up to our department the other week, she seems really nice. I just wondered who she was. Any gossip?"

"Yes, she is a friendly, lovely lady. No gossip I know of. Why?"

"I just wondered, that's all."

I felt myself get a little warm, my face flushed a little. Alison just smiled a knowing smile and shook her head. I left it there and changed the subject.

I continued to see Kerri about the building, even managing to say hello now and again. She was very courteous every time and we even managed to do that very British thing and chat about the weather once. It was not until after Christmas and well into January that I managed to have any meaningful exchange with Kerri.

It had been a very cold night, temperature down to about minus six; my car was sheeted in thick, glassy ice. It took about fifteen minutes to clear enough off the windows for me to drive safely. Traffic was especially heavy and slow. The rush hour elongated into two hours and made many people, including myself, late for work. I finally got to work about an hour late. The car park was quite full, people obviously taking the car instead of walking or cycling in the freezing weather. I could not park in my usual spot near the entrance to my department so I had to circle around the large car park looking for a space that was not too far from the building. I ended up at the other end of the building where I had never parked before.

By the time I had got to my desk I was another five minutes late. Because I had arrived late, that evening I made up some of the time by working late. We had a tight deadline approaching and I really needed to put some hours in. However, by six o'clock I had had enough. I would rather get in early than work late so I vowed to make the other hour up the next morning. I got my coat and scarf on and made the long walk to the car. As I approached, I realised that it was again iced over.

The driver of the car next to mine had just got to their car ahead of me and was trying to open the door. As I neared my car, I recognized in the poor light that it was Kerri under the large overcoat valiantly struggling into her car. I was too late to talk as she had made it into her car by the time I got to mine. I eventually got in and started it up. My old Mazda would start every time, rain, shine or even on the coldest freezing day. I left her ticking over with the heater full on and got out to scrape the ice. Kerri was still trying to get her old Fiesta going. However, by the sound of it, it just wasn't going to start. After a few minutes the battery started to wane and soon just a click emanated from under the bonnet. I could just see through the iced windows as Kerri smacked the steering wheel with her hands.

She got out and over the noise of my engine ticking nicely away said. "Hi Dave, bit of a problem, I don't suppose you have some jump leads?"

"Hello Kerri, actually I do but I don't think your car is going to start, with or without jump leads."

"Oh, are you sure," her voice trailed off.

For the next fifteen minutes I was hooking and unhooking jump leads, revving my car and Kerri was attempting to start hers. Still nothing. Finally, we admitted defeat.

"Looks like I'll have to catch a bus... could you give me a lift to town, David?"

"Of course, no problem, I mean, where do you live? I can take you home."

"No, no it's too far out of your way, just to town will be fine."

And so, we began the gentle negotiating that always takes place, Kerri finally relenting and agreeing but only if it was all right with me. She lived in a little village about fifteen miles in the opposite direction of my journey to my town. Not that I minded taking Kerri home.

In the car we started to talk about the weather again. The British and the obsession to talk about the weather. We use it as a filler and as a guard against talking about things that we are not comfortable with so Kerri and myself started talking about the weather. Then about work and then about our lives. We neared the village up on the moor and Kerri gave me directions to her house. She lived in an old farm cottage on the outskirts of the village. She told me that the cottage had been a tied house for years but since the farm had been modernized it was sold to the tenants for a good price. That had been her aunt's family and her aunt had left it to her about five years ago.

I stopped the car at the iced grass verge beside her front garden wall.

"David, would you like to come in for a drink? I'll get you a cup of tea, or perhaps coffee?"

It was the way she spoke my name. I was completely enthralled. I probably answered too quickly and too enthusiastically as well. "I'd love to!"

"Great." She said and got out of the car.

She had said 'great' I pondered if this had any meaning. I followed her through the gate and up the path to the front door. She took off her glove, pulled a key from her handbag and opened the door. "Come in," she said flashing me those beautiful eyes and smiles as she walked through the door. I had no choice. I had to follow.

We sat at a big oak table in the warm kitchen and waited for the tea to brew in the pot in the centre of the big oak table. Kerri retrieved biscuits from a cupboard and put some on a plate. It was a very old-fashioned house and the kitchen had a cosy, warming feel. The Labrador dog that had growled at me as I entered, now lay supine under the table. A word from Kerri had stopped the growling and as I helped Kerri out of her coat and followed her into the kitchen the dog had almost become friendly towards me.

"When the heating picks up, we can go into the lounge but it's always warmer in the kitchen when I first get home." Kerri explained.

While the kettle had boiled Kerri had gone and got changed, saying that she liked to be out of her 'work clothes' as soon as possible. Kerri now wore a thin black wool sweater and a tan coloured pair of riding jodhpurs. Now that she was out of her flowing dress that she wore at work I could see Kerri had a 'classical' figure, very shapely and I found it very attractive.

Kerri poured the tea and started to talk about her life in a bit more detail. Kerri had been married and had got divorced twelve years ago, her husband had not wanted children and his selfishness had finally forced them apart after ten years of marriage. Kerri explained that the farm cottage left by her aunt had finally allowed her to create a 'nice, comfortable and independent' life of her own.

I then told her that I had also been married but for only five years and that my wife had just grown apart from me and we split up almost as a natural progression. I explained that my marriage had felt empty and that something was missing, a void that I could not quite pin down. Kerri nodded and smiled and suggested we move into the more comfortable lounge. Kerri's lounge was a homely room with a beautiful wooden floor, nice big easy chairs, lovely pictures, and shelves packed with hundreds of books.

She then spoke about our first meeting. "I remember the day I came down to see Martin about that fax. You were so helpful and polite, a perfect gentleman actually, that did impress me."

I started to blush a little at her compliments.

"It doesn't cost anything to be polite, Kerri," I replied.

"And you asked me my name and I thought to myself 'there's a well brought up young man'".

I felt my face grow redder. Kerri continued. "I make no apologies but I am strictly old school myself. 'Manners make the man. People demand respect immediately these days, well people have to earn my respect first."

I agreed with her wholeheartedly, expressing that respect for other people and being courteous and polite should be the cornerstones of education. Kerri beamed her lovely smile and her eyes shined. Encouraged by this I went on by saying that the schools today had a lot to answer for in the breakdown of these values and that in my day we were taught by example and by a strict discipline that was now sadly lacking. Kerri murmured her approval of what I had said and almost wistfully cocked her head to one side and seemed to slip into a daydream for a few seconds.

"Yes." she said, almost in a whisper. "Yes, that is it precisely, David. I have trained horses and my dogs and you only get out what you put in. People are the same. The trainer needs to mould and shape, guide them with a loving hand but also a strict hand. Most importantly they should be rewarded when they perform well. Equally, there needs to be checks and punishments with a firm hand when they misbehave or are not up to my high standards. However, it should all be done with love. Then they will reward you with service for the rest of their lives."

As she finished, she patted her Labrador that was obediently at her feet and the dog licked Kerri's hand. I saw the love and respect that existed between the dog and this lovely lady.

"I envy that dog's life, he's so lucky to be owned by you." I replied with a small jokey laugh at the end of my comment.

Kerri smiled her beaming smile. "Thank you." she said. "That's a really nice thing to say."

I suddenly realized that I had a squash court booked for 7.30. I asked if she would forgive me leaving suddenly but I thought I might be late otherwise.

"Yes, please leave now if you must. You should never be late. I thoroughly disapprove of lateness. I am a bit of a stickler for punctuality."

I also agreed that I hated being late. Kerri got my coat and helped me put it on to brave the elements. I then said my thanks for her hospitality and that I would love to do it again sometime.

She saw me to the door and then let me go back out into the cold and shut the door on her comfortable world. The car fired up first time. I smiled to myself for my good fortune and accelerated up the narrow lane through the village. That night I played squash but just could not get into the game. The concentration and co-ordination were well below my usual game and after twenty minutes I feigned injury and packed it in. My playing partner seemed somewhat relieved, as the game was so one-sided. Later, at home, I was restless and went to bed early. I lay in bed thinking about Kerri and her ample figure, the large breasts that jutted out magnificently through her tight jumper as she sat in the easy chair, the shapely thighs encased in jodhpurs. I fell asleep.

I awoke at one thirty in the night, the LED digital display on my radio clock alarm bathing the room in an eerie red glow. I put the radio on and listened to the World Service, hoping the burble of voices would send me to sleep. I remembered Kerri, the taught black jumper, riding jodhpurs and the marvellous Rubenesque figure that gave those garments shape. I became aroused and my penis started to grow hard. I flicked the radio off and then with my right hand I started to softly trace my fingertip from my thigh across the top of my leg, slowly, slowly up the length of my stiff penis. I was wet at the end and traced my finger across the wetness and circled it around the end of my cock.

My mind raced as I fantasized. Kerri's breasts free from her clothes, her nipple hard in my mouth, Kerri riding above me, the trunk of my body encased by her thighs, I was masturbating hard now and as I reached a peak of ecstasy my stream of consciousness flowed free. My brain boiled as I started to orgasm, my right hand now in slow motion, pumping my throbbing cock as my left hand tightly held my balls. In my mind I was kneeling naked at Kerri's feet, masturbating for her pleasure, her hand caressing my cheek as I licked and kissed her hand. I saw flashing lights in my closed eyes as cum oozed and spat out in ever smaller spurts over my stomach and I lay quite still, almost exhausted, and empty of any meaningful thought.

Moments later with the last thing I remember being the digital readout of the clock showing one forty-seven, I fell into a stupor.