My father, Jonathan, or Jon as he preferred to be called, had always had an eye for the ladies...In his mid 40's, an average looking guy, but with a gift of the gab that usually had the ladies swooning. He worked as an MD for a manufacturing company in Leeds, England, and had had a string of stunning secretaries over the years. My mother was acutely aware of my Dad's fondness for an attractive Secretary, and the jealous rows that often ensued had put quite a strain on their marriage from time to time...
This particular story is from many years ago now, the early 90's in fact, and happened when I was studying at University. I used to come home most Friday's for the weekend, catching the train to arrive in Leeds around 5pm, where I would then take the 10 minute walk to my Dad's office. The factory would close down at 3pm for the weekend, so usually when I turned up around 5.30pm, there was only my dad still there, though more recently my Dad's new secretary had also been happy to help him out and work late too.
She was a tall woman, statuesque even, in her high heels and business suits she was over 5ft 10.. Deborah was some 20 years junior of my father, in her mid to late twenties, with long brunette hair, dark brown eyes (usually framed by black glasses), shapely long legs and a large bottom, usually emphasised by one of the long wrap around skirt's she liked to wear. She also preferred tight fitting white blouses under the jacket's she wore, which hugged her ample breasts and left little to the imagination (especially on days where she chose not to wear a bra!).
I had your typical teenage crush on her, the older woman (well 6 years anyway!) and in the many conversations with my father on the Friday car ride home, I often used the opportunity to probe him a little more about her. She had a boyfriend who worked in a Warehouse the other side of the city and my father regularly stated that he didn't treat her as well as she deserved, and that she was more than a bit fed up with him...Consequently, I looked forward to seeing her each week, in the vain hope that she'd start to notice me...
It wasn't lost on me either, that my father also seemed to have a bit of a crush on her, often remarking how gorgeous she'd looked today, or how he couldn't take his eyes off her boobs, peaking out from under the tight top she'd inevitably been wearing. He even joked several times that she was wasted working for him and instead should make her fortune as a 'Page 3 Star' (a well-known feature of the UK's biggest daily newspaper at the time, was an attractive topless woman, on Page 3 each day...).
Anyway, on this particular Friday, just a few days before my 20th birthday, my tutor was ill and consequently the last lecture of the week was cancelled. I decided therefore to catch an earlier train, to get me into Leeds a couple of hours earlier than normal. I tried to call my father to let him know, but wasn't able to contact him in his office (it was the days before mobile phones!). What the hell, I'll just get there earlier and surprise him! I thought. Little did I know it would be me that would end up being surprised!
I duly arrived in Leeds around 3.15pm, and took the short walk to his offices. On arriving at the Gate, Dave, the Security guy, let me through, "Starting the weekend early, eh?" he inquired, "Do you want me to buzz him?"
"No, thanks." I replied, "I'll just wander up and wait if he's not around..."
The place was deserted as I walked past the factory machines, then hopped up the flight of stairs to the office floor. Again, as I wondered down the corridor the offices were all empty, type-writers switched off for the day and lights turned out. As I neared my father's office at the end of the carpeted corridor, I could hear a familiar female voice, it was Deborah, his secretary, but her voice sounded a little different to normal, more excited.
As I got closer, I could now make out what she was saying, and it stopped me in my tracks!
"Squeeze my tits, Jon." I heard her say, "Can you feel my nipples hardening between your fingers...?" she went on.
Fucking hell!?! What was I hearing..?!? Rooted to the spot, about 6 or 7 yards from the open office door, I strained to listen and make sure I wasn't imagining things...
"Oh Deborah..." was all I heard my father say, followed by noisy slurring sounds, which I presumed was them kissing. I edged close to the crack between the door hinge and being a naive, young student, was stunned by what I saw.
My father was laid back in his big desk chair with his eyes closed and between his legs and on her knees was Deborah. Her tongue was greedily slurping up and down his erect shaft, her hands cupping his balls, while her white blouse was open and her breasts swinging freely, as her head began to bob. As an inexperienced teenager, I'd never seen a blow-job before, let alone, someone blowing my Dad! He was groaning as she came up gasping for air, with pre-cum glistening on her chin.
What the hell should I do..? I thought as I stepped backwards. Storm in and shout to him, "What the fuck are you doing..? What about Mum?!?" Or should I just skulk off down the corridor and give them 10 minutes or so to finish? Instead, realizing I was now hard myself, I lent back in and peered through the crack of the door again...
I did so just as Deborah was standing up. Those breasts really were a sight to behold, especially to a teenager! Big, heavy 34DD or 36D cup-sized melons, with large brown areola peeping out from beneath an open white blouse.
"I want your cock inside me..." she said and sitting on the desk, slowly laid back until she was horizontal, resting her still heeled feet on the arm rests of his chair.
My Dad moved forward with his throbbing manhood glistening from her spittle, his trousers round his ankles. She gasped as he first entered , then slowly started to fuck her. With every deliberate thrust, her ample tits wobbled in perfect unison. My Dad seemingly noticing this too, couldn't resist grabbing and squeezing them as he began to pump into her wet pussy harder and faster.
Deborah gasped and grabbing his tie pulled him closer to her, as I watched my dad's bottom cheeks rhythmically contract and relax...She then wrapped her long stocking clad-legs around him and face to face now, sighed, "Fuck me, Jon, fuck me harder!"
My Dad duly obliged, the wooden dark oak desk even starting to creak a little, as they became one.
At this point I step back again, and lean my back against the corridor wall, half listening to their coupling groans, sighs and sweet nothings, half thinking.. I'm in some sort of dream here and I'll wake up in a minute! My own hard on, however, told me this was no dream...!
