A Dream Of Age And Beauty

Copyright PennameWombat December 2018

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This story would've made a solid contribution to the 'In a Sunburned Country' event but the timing didn't work out. The location is not stated flat out but it will be obvious to those familiar and can be easily discerned by others from the hints given. Spelling and language reflect the country of setting but should not be a deterrent to enjoyment.

This story portrays consensual sexual acts that some readers may find uncomfortable.

Tags: Anal, Big Tits, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Fellatio, First Meeting, Office Sex, Older Woman, Outdoor Sex, Pegging

*****

1 Well Met in Late March

I was a software developer for a firm on the southern edge of the Central Business District at Castlereagh and Goulburn Streets and another department of ours had the contract for computer support for Yvonne's under-the-radar FX and brokerage and financial services firm. Few of the general public knew of the firm but it had a blue-ribbon set of mostly private clients from the top end of town. They suffered an outage amidst a widespread internet hiccup which hit all across the CBD and meant our cadre of support people were inundated, so it was all hands on deck.

I'd spent my first few years at our firm in the support department so my boss told me to get to her office five minutes ago and 'get it working and kiss as much arse as necessary and make a joke about those books you read.' The first directive was standard, the second not so unusual as her firm was a long-time client, the third one was definitely not part of our usual toolkit. But I didn't have time to argue as I hurriedly grabbed some tools.

Not expecting to have to do this when I dressed for work I had on nice shorts and a short-sleeved button down shirt for the more summer than fall temperatures. I had plans for casual drinks after work with the new dark-haired business analyst we'd recently hired. I asked if I should go home and change but my boss told me to not bother, better to get there sooner. Besides, he'd told me 'you look pretty hot, mate, just go!'

In my support days I'd gotten used to being greeted by admins or often the 'unofficial' support tech, some drone in the office who through aptitude got roped into answering their coworker's questions and taking care of the computers, mostly guys but on rare occasions a geek girl. The more circumspect of these could be a great help to us but cowboys who thought they knew it all usually doubled how long it took to do anything.

I'd been to her firm's building on Sussex Street on the border of the new harbourside Barangaroo development once before about three years ago training a then-new support employee. Normally I'd have simply walked due to traffic issues but with the outage the CBD had emptied so I grabbed a cab. It looked familiar as I walked in and introduced myself to the receptionist who picked up the phone, said something quietly, told me "she'll be right out." No further information about the she.

Then through the foyer door I saw a slender but curvy woman, tall, all but eye to eye with my just over 1.8 metres in her moderately-high black heels, very dark brown slightly wavy shoulder length hair parted to her left, lightly olive skin, an impressive bit of cleavage as a hint of what was possible from a long-sleeve square neck dark blue dress over her very large bust, a dress which ended a just an inch or two above the knees of her shapely hose-covered legs.

Oh. Shit. The Managing Director herself. No drone. Well, if I was to do arse kissing this was the one to kiss. And it seemed a very shapely one. I'd never met her and had no memory of seeing her on my previous visit but knew of her by description from coworkers having seen her while here. I knew from being told she was somewhere in her forties but if I'd had to testify I'd swear she was closer to my thirty-two than that.

She had a tight and somewhat annoyed look but when I saw her register me standing there her face became an indecipherable expression and she slowed almost to a halt from her formerly quick pace. Then it passed, her face didn't return to its severe mien but had a softer and more apprising tone. She resumed approaching me at a slower and more deliberate pace.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Bolanos, I'm Constantine Cooper," I introduced myself, "my boss sent me to rescue your system from the chthonic tentacles causing your issues."

"Chthonic..." I got a half smile and her eyes focused about 3 metres behind me then back on me, "Your boss rang a few minutes ago, he did say you were... funny... Anything about watery depths?"

"Heard something about a trencher hitting the NBN trunk line, and yeah. Broke a water main too. Literal watery depths," I said but something about her response gnawed at me.

"R'ly..." is what I thought she said very quietly but that had to be my imagination, then after a momentary pause came back to a conversational volume, "and just call me Yvonne."

"I know the server room is that way, Yvonne, lead me to thine tentacles," I said.

"Yeah, c'mon. Fix it fast or you'll be my next human sacrifice," she said, and her eyes told me she was not serious. Well, only kind of serious. Ok. Serious.

She turned and led me in the direction of the room. My immediate thought was to hope this job did include arse kissing. Lots and lots of arse kissing, seeing it displayed in that form-fitting dress as she strode quickly, a slit in the back revealing a bit more of her shapely thighs with each step, her heels clicking on the tiled floor of the office's kitchenette area.

In the glorified closet I logged onto the server and began diagnostics. Almost immediately I said "ah, wow."

"What?" My interlocutor was standing there with her arms crossed beneath her magnificent bust which did nothing for my ability to concentrate.

"Dead network adaptor, Ms., uh, Yvonne," I said, "bad news, I don't have one with me, good news I can reconfigure because the server has a spare one installed. Should've switched over automatically..."

"They weren't bonded?" she asked, shocking me.

"Uh, right, not configured properly, sorry," I said, "you know that?"

"I need to know how my business works," she said with a tight frown that was apparently pretend as it turned into a grin, "all of it."

I stood up and had to bend and crane my neck to look behind the server to visually check all expected cables were plugged in, that done out of the corner of my eye I thought I was being ogled but then I assumed it was my imagination being overly hopeful. I set to work on the keyboard and after a few minutes had it working.

"Ta da," I said, as I pointed to a status window showing bits flowing again, "if you have your phone or ipad you can try, WiFi is up and should be running."

She tapped at her phone and gave me a half smile, "working. Wait here."

She walked around a corner to the main office area and after a couple of minutes came back.

"Files online, we're in. Thanks," then she stopped and slitted her eyes just a bit looking at me.

"Did you run the Harbour 10k couple of weeks ago?" she asked to my nodded confirmation.

"Were you carrying piggyback that woman who twisted her ankle the last K?" My eyebrows went up by a degree and I nodded again.

"That was sweet. And pretty impressive. But it also meant I passed you just before the end."

"She didn't weigh much, but she broke it, not just a sprain," I said, trying to downplay it. I'd gotten five minutes of fame out of it, the woman was an experienced runner and was pulling away from me but took a misstep and broke her ankle. I and a couple others stopped to help and somehow I agreed to convey her to the end which she preferred to having the EMTs cart her off from there. I was racking my brain trying to recall Yvonne's arse passing me in shorts or tights. Bad move. I realised she may have read my mind when she saw my expression go unfocused.

"I was in front of you that last K, I guess wasn't memorable," she said with a pout and one eyebrow raised, "but, what's next, remover-of-tentacles?"

"Oh," I recovered quickly, "I need to go back and get a new adaptor, I should replace the one so I can reset and you'll have a backup. But, I'll need to shut the system down to do it so it'll have to be when you can let me do that, at night or weekend I guess. And make sure it's configured correctly. Very sorry about that."

"Tonight then. 7 pm. I'll be here. Get it done."

"Um, oh, ok," I said, that meant getting drinks with that cute new dark-haired analyst we'd just hired was going to need to be rescheduled unless I could foist this job on someone else. But, the boss said to kiss as much arse as necessary to stay in Ms., I mean, Yvonne's good graces. And I suddenly wasn't in a mood for anyone else to do this job.

"Ok, I shall return," I said as I locked the closet and she led me to the door.

"Thanks," she said and offered me her hand, "see you at 7."

I rang her office on my mobile from the footpath outside the skyscraper where her offices sat 20 stories up, not having afterhours code or badge access to the building. Fortunately my call was picked up and after explaining myself I was told someone in a green dress would come down. A few minutes later a very attractive and well-built twenty-something woman with a blonde bob in a very short and fitted but not excessively tight green dress exited the lifts into the glass-walled lobby and walked to the front door.

"Your name is?" she asked, holding the door just open.

"Costa, Comware Computers," I said.

"You pass," and she pushed the door open. She handed me a plastic card with "Guest" stamped on it, "this'll get you up the lift and my boss will meet you there. Have fun!"

She watched me walk toward the lifts and then I heard the door close, looked back, to watch her turn left and head elsewhere. I pushed the 'up' button.

"So," I said as I worked on the server, "this isn't anything you needed to stay for, you could've assigned one of your folks to babysit me?" Other than a couple of janitors busy emptying bins and vacuuming it was just the two of us.

"It's a lean office," she said, "I have my admin and she's a great organiser but technically adroit as a koala, the rest of my staff know how to push the right keys and make money sing and they make the real money by handling clients and a couple more admins. You lot are supposed to keep my machines running so I don't pay anyone to sit around here doing it. I want to see it done and I don't want to bother the money makers. Half of them are off making nice with dinner meetings anyway, after the glitches today. Lots of FX in flight."

I did have to admit she was watching me closely. Suddenly it dawned on me that the office techie girl geek was also the MD.

"Here," I nodded to the screen once it was all together, "if you want I'll show you the config screens."

"Yeah, hold on," she pulled another chair from the kitchenette and sat near me where she could see the screen, her dress lifting a couple of inches up her toned thighs. I could smell some light perfume, I had no clue what it was as I ran through the procedure to reboot and pair the network adaptors, surprised by a couple of questions confirming she was indeed the local geek girl techie when she wasn't busy being the MD.

"Here, let me," she said as I prepared to run the final config. I leaned back as much as I could and she leaned across me to squeeze into the confined closet and reach the keyboard. I tried very hard not to gape and stare down the perfectly placed, and perfect, cleavage, framed by her hair falling just around her head and neck. The blood was fleeing my brain for a different body part and I was glad I had a notebook across my lap for camouflage.

"So this is where you tell the lusers 'sorry, your files are gone forever?' she surprised me with the unflattering term admins used with each other but never in front of standard computer users.

"Um, yeah," I said with a laugh, "but not your files of course."

"Damned well better not be my files going missing," she said, laughing too, "or it'll be sacrifice time."

After we'd finished I asked her to go to a workstation and log herself on, then access files while I forced an adaptor switch, after fifteen minutes she declared herself happy with the fix.

"Thanks for coming back," she said with an expression of sympathy but also something else, "too bad about your new friend though."

"Um, huh?" I said genuinely confused as I packed up my tools.

"Your boss rang me to grovel after you left earlier," Yvonne continued, "and I told him what you were doing. He mentioned 'ah, too bad about his plans then' but he also added 'no worry, no hope there, she heard, shrugged and just left with Jason for happy hour'. Who's Jason?"

I wondered if my expression was more fishy-eyed or glassy-eyed or simply 'fishy glassy eyed.'

"How about this," she said with some sympathy, "there's a nice Thai place just around the corner I like. My shout for some dinner for getting this put right. Okay?"

I hoped the rapid blinking of my eyes was the Morse Code for 'oh my freaking god yes yes yes,' but I think it was symptomatic of a soon-to-be-fatal brain haemorrhage.

"Sounds great," my brain finally determined was the safest and most appropriate response.

"Cool," she said limiting her reaction to my fit to dancing, mirthful eyes, "I'll grab my stuff and meet you at the door."

Dinner was very tasty and I found out she'd been married a couple of times but wasn't currently, two more than I'd ever managed, and not one on my horizon I'd told her. Certainly not with my new coworker. She seemed to find that situation hilarious.

"I can walk to my place, so I'll walk you to the train station," she said, it was about a 15 minute train ride to my flat in an inner ring suburb, she had a place close by in one of those new glass and concrete and steel high-rise luxury blocks well outside of my price range.

"Ok, there's a pub on the way if you'll let me shout you an after dinner drink," I ventured.

"You're on," she smiled broadly, "and I know you can carry me out of there if I have too many."

She slightly surprised me by simply telling me to get whatever I was drinking before she excused herself, so I had two schooners of Bubble & Squeak IPA from a tiny brewery out my way waiting when she returned and sat down ninety degrees from me at the little table in the mostly empty pub. Whether it was normal Wednesday slowness or the widespread internet crash had emptied the CBD I wasn't sure. This was not my usual after work patch although I knew the area a bit.

"Good choice," she said after her first sip, then leaned back on one of the little chairs that were square blocks of wood with slightly sloped backs, covered by padded seats and backrests, crossed her left leg over her right and closed her eyes for 3 or 4 seconds, then let out a slow breath. I would've sworn her toilet visit had shortened her dress a few inches and the more of her legs I saw the more impressed I became.

"Thanks," she said just loud enough for me to hear over the light background noise, "I needed this."

"No worries, thanks for dinner," I said, "long day," and we touched our glasses then took long swigs of the tasty beer and smiled softly at each other.

"Ow!" someone said to my right, I reluctantly took my eyes off of Yvonne and she looked ahead, we saw a group of 6 young Asian men and women, one of the women sucking on her finger and holding a needle or pin, her friends looking on in amusement or sympathy. Apparently she'd poked herself and drew some blood.

"Kiri, kiri, kiri," said Yvonne.

I jerked my head so hard I almost tore muscles and looked at a grinning Yvonne, her once-tight face now innocent and looking even younger than when I'd first met her. I had thought she was attractive before. I was wrong. She was beautiful.

"Words create lies," I started.

"Pain can be trusted," she continued the line.

"And your wire can cut flesh and bone..."

We just stared at each other in amazement and dawning recognition.

"You, really. Miike," I said slowly, then continued, "'Dead or Alive,' 'Zebraman', how about 'Sukiyaki'?"

"All good," she said, "but nothing gets the blood going like 'Ichi the Killer.'"

"Ichi, the 'Citizen Kane of arterial spray movies'," I said, dawning realisation that this beautiful utterly and totally out of my league Takashi Miike-film-loving geek girl senior executive was very probably the woman of my dreams. And our first conversation made sudden sense.

"You knew bloody well I was riffing Cthulhu right from the off," I continued, dragging it out and letting the 'off' trail into silence.

"Welcome to Dunwich," she said with a broad grin.

I was incapable of dreaming this woman. Only dread lord Cthulhu could dream such a woman as this.

"No tentacles, but the 'Golden Age' on Commonwealth Street is, incredibly coincidental as it may seem, showing 'Audition' Saturday. 5 pm," I said although I wasn't sure I was actually speaking, I sounded like a very bad computer-generated voice.

"Are you asking me out, Mr. Constantine Cooper?" her brown eyes had flecks of other colours and they seemed to dance and sparkle. I could feel the wire cutting into my leg just above the ankle.

"Um... well, yes, Ms. Yvonne Bolanos," I stammered but then smoothed out, "unless that's a no-no."

"I'll meet you there at 4," she said, "they have a nice little bar. You're not one of MY employees."

She smiled broadly and offered her glass to touch again before we drained them.

"I'll have another, unless your mother expects you home soon, young man," her smile softer, maybe even shy suddenly.

"Even though it's a school night," I said as I stood up and reached for her empty glass to drop it at the bar, "I'm on it."

She held her glass and pulled me down so my ear was next to her mouth, "And, Costa, on Saturday you won't have to hide your looking down my blouse..."

Then she let me up a bit, as I turned to face her she pulled me down to kiss me softly. I returned the kiss and our mouths opened only slightly for our tongues to meet. Then she slowly nudged me away. I hoped I passed the test.

She let me rise with her glass, my Greek mother's skin tone meant my suddenly red cheeks weren't as noticeable as they'd have been on my Irish father.

2 Movie & More in Late March

I hopped off of the train at Central about 3:30 on the Saturday to walk the few blocks to the cinema. I was in possession of the private mobile number of one of the City's business world's up and comers. There were people who would pay me, or maybe kill me, for that number. Those were not the kind of people I planned to talk to.

Having the number was something I would've dismissed as a dream but just before 1 pm on Friday I'd texted to the number 'used your card.' That got me simply a thumbs up followed by 'Stand me up tomorrow, dude, and just remember. I have wire.'

I reconfirmed I'd be there or I'd be dead in an alley. I'd taken the card she'd given me with the comment 'first time I've handed this out' and gone to the address and allowed them to take a vial of blood. And signed a consent form allowing them to inform one person in addition to myself. I knew what it was for. I also knew that I had no issues with that.

Especially as there was no bill.

The end of summer weather had turned into autumn suddenly so I was wearing newer jeans and a light oxford shirt and carrying a light jacket I'd likely need at movie's end. Which gave me pockets to store some 'supplies' in. Just in case. I really tried not to expect anything and had worked at tamping expectations since I got home Wednesday, but I also didn't want to be stuck.