Sensation 4

I was about 22 when I arrived in this big city, which was to become the place of my sexual awakening. I came from the countryside, where I had started out with big dreams and little idea of life. My experiences with the "opposite sex" were limited to adolescent encounters in the village disco, where there was usually so much testosterone in the air that I usually came off worse when it came to impressing a woman.

I came to the city, in all honesty, because of the women, but above all I wanted to become a journalist. A desire that was simply impossible to realize in the middle of nowhere, because there were only local newspapers and I would be stuck there if I ever started working somewhere like that.

So one day -- a rainy Tuesday in April -- I arrived in the city by bus. The interview had taken place over the phone because of the distance, and I had sent my work samples -- most of the stuff I had written at school -- by snail mail. It was 1993, and the internet was still waiting to be introduced to a wider public.

On the phone, I mostly dealt with Kate, the assistant to Karen, the editor-in-chief of the fashion magazine where I was now going to work. It wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I saw myself more as an investigative reporter at one of the city's major daily newspapers. But I couldn't be picky. I was lucky to get such a job at all, without a college degree. First as an intern, then as a trainee.

Kate picked me up at the bus station. It turned out that she wasn't Karen's assistant at all, but a young, tough reporter who occasionally did Karen, the editor-in-chief, a favor. Kate was pretty, but not in that obvious way. She made no attempt to show off her charms, but dressed in a deliberately casual and sporty way. Maybe that's what caught my eye when I first saw her. Those charms that only started to work at second glance.

She was wearing Adidas sports shoes without socks, which made her graceful ankles look particularly attractive. Her tanned, athletic legs drew the eye directly to the jeans hot pants. She wore her T-shirt rather casually, which only hinted at her attractive curves when she moved or bent in a certain direction.

"Are you coming with me or are you going to stay here?" I heard her voice, which sounded sweet on the one hand but was firm on the other.

"Yes, sure," I said, trying to cover my embarrassment with a smile.

We got into her car. It was obviously not her car, but the company's. The name and logo of the magazine I would now be working for were emblazoned on all sides. The car was small and cramped, we were dangerously close to each other, while Kate steered the car through the seemingly endless city traffic and I excitedly shifted around in the passenger seat.

After what seemed like an endless drive, which in reality probably lasted no more than 25 or 30 minutes, we arrived in the middle of the city and turned into one of the countless underground car parks that existed under the glass towers in the city center. As we descended several floors below ground, I once again noticed how routinely she did everything, how naturally Kate moved around in this city, how she was practically a part of it. At least somehow.

The city was a Moloch. It was noisy and smelly everywhere. The buildings in the city, especially in the center, were functional and looked quite impressive to a country bumpkin like me. But there was no real beauty here.

"First time in the city?" Kate asked as we made our way to the elevator that would take us directly to the 45th floor, the heart of the magazine I would be working for in the future.

"Yes," I replied in a rather curt manner. Suddenly I felt very small and awkward, like someone who had come from the backwoods and had no idea about life out here in the big city jungle. And that was the case.

Kate didn't ask any more questions, probably realizing that her question made feel uncomfortable. And I was doubly uncomfortable because I realized that I had a crush on Kate. The short ride from the bus station to here had apparently been enough for me to suddenly fall madly in love with her.

The office was different from what I had imagined. Somehow I had expected a noisy open-plan office where things were hectic, but here it was absolutely quiet. Heavy carpets on the office floor absorbed all sound. But nobody was running hectically from one desk to another either. This office could have been that of an insurance company. Or an investment firm.

Kate, who was walking ahead, turned briefly to me and gave me an encouraging look, accompanied by a really sweet smile. I smiled back uncertainly, while I admired for the first time her elegant, almost cat-like flowing movements, which contrasted with her usual appearance.

Finally, we reached an office with a large glass front through which you could see everything that was going on inside.

Inside, I could see a woman of about 50 and a man around the same age. The hierarchy was immediately clear from looking at the two of them: the woman, self-confident, attentive, focused, was in charge. She was the boss.

"That's Karen, isn't it?" I said to Kate.

She smiled and nodded. "And the other guy is Jack," she explained. "He's the gossip editor. Unpleasant guy. He hits on every woman under 25. I've had the pleasure myself," Kate said with an ironic smile on her lips.

"But with her," I said, pointing my chin at Kate, "he seems to be trying to butter her up."

Inside, you could see how Jack was now fawning over Karen to try to win her favor. Without the context, you could have thought it was a strange mating ritual, I thought, and the next moment I involuntarily wondered what sex with the editor-in-chief of our magazine would be like.

As if I had allowed an indecent thought to take hold, I immediately shook off the idea. I was 22, she was maybe 55. That was more than 33 years difference in age. Thinking about sex with her was not indecent, it was just perverse.

Nevertheless, I couldn't take my eyes off her. Her figure, which was quite impressive for her age, somehow attracted me. Unlike Kate, no doubt. But there was something fascinating, even magical, about her.

It was quite absurd, I thought, and I brushed the thought aside.

A grumbling Jack stormed out of the office and pulled me out of my thoughts. I saw Karen gather herself, shake her head and then grin.

"I think Karen is ready to meet you now," said Kate, already heading towards Karen's office. I followed her uncertainly.

"Karen!" Kate called, "I've got our new guy here. He's coming straight from the bus station, where I picked him up."

Karen laughed heartily and shook my hand, saying, "Pleased to meet you, just call me Karen, everyone does."

I introduced myself, trying not to sound too forward or too deferential. But I guess it would have come across as awkward and stiff to a young guy like me anyway. Looking back, the 1990s jeans look seems pretty silly to me now, but young people thought it was fashionable back then.

"I hadn't imagined you to be so pretty and sexy," Karen got straight to the point.

I cleared my throat awkwardly and looked uncertainly at Kate, who met my gaze with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. So I had understood Karen correctly. I searched for a quick-witted answer and finally said: "Since I wanted to be a journalist since I was born and physical attractiveness can open many doors, I took that into account from the beginning."

"A bit clumsy, but a good answer, Karen countered, winking at me.

I looked at her. I could see that she was experienced. She was certainly no longer as fit as Kate, but that didn't detract from her sex appeal. On contrary.

Experienced women are like good wine, I thought to myself. They may not be as smooth and delicate as fresh wine, but you can really taste the maturity.

The rest of the conversation was trivial banter. Kate was given the task of showing me around and introducing me to the team. As we left the office, Kate looked at me and grinned. "You seem to meet her taste," she said.

I replied, irritated, "What do you mean?"

"Oh come on," said Kate, "you may be a country bumpkin, but you've probably heard of sex," she stated, adding quietly, "even if you hillbillies prefer to keep it to yourselves."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, but secretly I thought it was totally sexy when she teased me. Somehow it made me horny, and that was a new feeling for me.

"You could try it," I replied.

Her reaction was a contemptuous yell that dashed any hopes I had of getting off with her. I shrugged my shoulders and shuffled after her, while she introduced me to one team member after another and finally led me to my desk -- a small desk with a huge typewriter on it that seemed so heavy that the table underneath it almost collapsed.

The first week was fairly undramatic. During the day, I edited reports and phoned people who knew people who had once touched the hem of a famous model's skirt. I quickly realized that working for a glamorous fashion magazine was anything but glamorous. It was a tough job as a reporter, and often I was still in the office with Kate at half past nine in the evening, going through the latest celebrity gossip.

We quickly became friends, which added another level to our relationship. Furthermore, I was attracted to her and kept finding myself admiring her young, firm, athletic body and imagining what it would be like to touch her in various sensitive places. Not just how it would feel for me, but also how she would react -- other than the obvious response of slapping me hard across the face.

Soon it became a nightly ritual for me to lie in my bed in my small room, awake, aroused, immersed in my fantasies, which constantly revolved around Kate, and usually either fell asleep immediately after masturbating or even during it.

The first few weeks in the city passed by like this. I was completely caught up in my little universe, which consisted of my job and Kate. I had long since forgotten Karen's suggestive remarks from our first encounter. I had a good working relationship with her. She made me feel that she appreciated my work and supported me. However, we never talked about private or even intimate matters.

But then came the day that was to change everything. It was a Saturday and I was at the editorial office because I had met up with a few people I was interviewing and wanted to go through my notes and save them.

I was not alone. Karen was there too. I had heard that she was there every Saturday because she also lived for her job and her work ethic dictated that she always work a little more than her subordinates.

So, while I was engrossed in my work, I suddenly heard her voice behind me: "Young man, follow me to my office."

This was an unusual request and I was a little worried that I had done something wrong. On the other hand, I was not aware of any guilt or mistake. So I followed her with a trace of uneasiness but a clear conscience.

In her office, she looked me in the eye. It was a piercing, curious look. But at the same time, there was something else.

If I didn't know better, I would think she was aroused, it occurred to me.

It was at that moment that I realized: I didn't know any better, because I had just remembered our first encounter with her suggestive remarks.

The intensity of her gaze did not diminish, but she also said nothing. She seemed to be enjoying it, toying with me like a cat with a mouse it has just caught.

My own feelings fluctuated between curiosity, outrage and...

Yes, what exactly? I had to admit to myself that I was feeling a certain excitement, even though I didn't know why.

When the tension became almost unbearable, Karen finally ordered me: "Take off your clothes!"

Had I just heard that right? "How... uh, what... um," I stammered.

"You heard me right," Karen replied. Only now did I realize that she had just started to undress herself.

I took a tentative step and began to undress. She was obviously not satisfied with the speed of my actions, so she ordered: "Faster!"

I realized that I was becoming agitated, almost panicky. When we were both naked, she pointed to the sofa bed in her office. There was a rumor in the editorial office that she sometimes slept here at night when she had worked too long. But only now did I realize that something was different this time. The sofa had been converted into a halfway comfortable bed. There was even a sheet over it.

If I'm going to lose my virginity here, I thought, at least this sheet won't be stained with my blood. My feelings oscillated between total outrage at the incredible abuse of power that was taking place here and an incredible arousal that had long since ensured that my erection was hard to miss.

I was triggered by the situation, but also by the sight she offered me, which was even better than I had imagined when we first met.

Karen approached me with slow steps. Her walk had something playful about it. She sauntered until she was standing directly in front of my erect penis. She was smaller than me, significantly smaller, so that my cock almost reached her chest. She had breasts about the size of two grapefruits, round and beautifully shaped with a hard, small nipple. Her breathing was labored, which told me how aroused she was.

I couldn't tell whether she was excited too. It seemed to me that she wasn't doing this for the first time, although I was surprised that I hadn't heard about it before. Internal gossip and rumors were actually the first thing to spread like wildfire.

I watched with anticipation to see what would happen next. Her hand approached and touched my cock, grasping and clasping it. It was gripping and electrifying at the same time. I understood that this was not the first time she had done something like this. Slowly, she began to push it back and forth. And I immediately realized that something inside me was stirring. I moaned softly, so that she looked up at me and smiled.

Then she crouched down so that my cock was now at the level of her mouth.

The pure thought that she would now give me a blowjob made me crazy. I don't know how many times I had imagined how a woman would give me a blowjob. My fantasies in this regard were so present that actually only every woman would fail the reality check.

I saw her lips getting closer and closer and she finally gave me a sweet kiss on the glans. It almost was all over here, but I was just able to hold back the ejaculation. She felt how close I was and slowed down.

Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect on me than intended, because instead of maintaining the excitement, it subsided. My cock went limp again. I was confused and irritated.

Not so Karen, who said in Yoda-like fashion to the Jedi: "Much more you have to learn, young Padawan." Afterwards she gave an almost girlish giggle. She had made a nerd joke and was having a great time.

I, on the other hand, was frustrated. It was my first "real" time and I was -- in my own estimation -- about to fail miserably.

"Hmm," she began, still with a teasing smile on her lips, "if an experienced Jedi isn't your thing, maybe someone your own age would be."

Before I could ask what she meant, two delicate hands were placed on my hips.

I was startled and froze.

I would have liked to turn around, but I didn't dare, because I didn't want to know if my fears were true.

I wanted to sink into the ground out of shame when a hand reached for my cock. "Let's see if we can get it going again," I heard Kate's voice and I wanted to cry. On the one hand, out of shame, on the other hand, out of happiness.

Karen grinned. "I've noticed how much time you've been spending with my best reporter since you've been here," she said. And while my cock was slowly filling with excitement again, Kate began to rub it skillfully. Karen was still kneeling in front of me and now began to lick my glans with her tongue. Kate held me from behind with her body weight. She pressed her upper body against my back and I could feel her nipples harden. She was also aroused, which I could tell from the soft moans she was making.

"Yeah. Yeah, ha ha," I moaned lustfully, realizing how much more exciting everything was when you let your feelings and the sounds that go with them run wild, instead of -- as I often did when masturbating -- holding my breath the closer I got to orgasm.

"Yeees. Faster, Kate. You too, Karen," I instructed. They obeyed what I demanded. Kate now rubbed faster and harder and Karen let her tongue circle around my glans as if it were the most delicious cream cake of all time.

That thought almost made me lose my rhythm, because I couldn't help but grin.

Kate had obviously noticed this too. She pushed my cock back and forth even faster and at the same time began to knead my balls with her other hand.

"I'm coming!" I gasped, and the next moment I was overcome by a wave of ecstasy as I shot a huge load of cum into Karen's mouth. When I was finished, she licked the rest of it off my cock, while Kate, who was still holding it firmly in her hand from behind, kissed me on the back.

At that moment, I must have been the happiest boy in the world. And it wasn't the last time that the three of us had fun in Karen's office on the 45th floor of the skyscraper.