Oriole Greene came to work at my company as a secretary, but she had ambitions to be a lot more than that. The young woman was taking a night course in programming fundamentals, but she wanted to learn more and faster than the school would let her.
She asked me if I would be willing to help her learn Fortran; she had a textbook and a compiler, but she wanted somebody who could help her understand what went wrong when it did. I had weekday evenings free, and I was quite willing. If I had known how it was going to be, I would have been eager for it instead of just willing.
Oriole (she had an older sister named Robin, if that helps explain the name) lived with her parents still, in a two-story house. She was about 22, fairly tall, fairly slender. She wore a little more makeup than I liked on women, but she had a nice smile.
I went over to her house a little after dinner on a Tuesday, where I met her parents. Her father was around fifty, balding and tubby; her mother was a little younger, and of mixed race to judge by how she looked. That explained why Oriole's coloring was a little exotic, and it was clear that was where she got her looks from otherwise as well.
They seemed very nice, though her father was visibly nervous about the fact that Oriole's computer was in her bedroom, and that she was going to spend the next couple of hours in that bedroom with a man. Her mother took it more in stride.
Once we were in the bedroom, she sat down in front of the computer screen and called up the program she had been working on, and which had gone wrong somewhere. I stood behind her to look over her shoulder and comment. I put one hand on her shoulder, partly to see better, partly because I liked the idea of a good excuse to touch her. We had had no physical contact at the office to speak of, but I had found her attractive.
I started to talk to her, to help her relax, and as I talked to her I gently massaged her shoulder. Then I put my other hand on her other one and started to massage it as well. This was actually sort of innocent -- I wasn't trying to make a pass at her, at least a serious one -- since you can think through problems more easily when your body is relaxed. I would hate to tell you how many solutions I have gotten on the toilet.
The fingers had an effect and she started to moan very quietly. This was more of a result than I had expected, and it inspired me to go a little further than I had expected to. I bent down and nibbled her ear, and she told me that I could not nibble her ear and talk at the same time.
I laughed and she giggled and tugged my hand to her neck where she rubbed her cheek against the hair on the back. I decided to push the situation. I turned her chair around then (it was on wheels) and I got down in front of her on my knees. I put my hand behind the back of her head and pulled her face to mine. We touched our lips together and I waited a few heartbeats to see if she would resist.
There was no resistance as I pressed her lips to mine. Not at all. It was not clear to me whether she just wanted a moment's distraction or if the situation -- in her bedroom, with her parents close by -- made her hot for me. My mouth opened -- her lips parted. My tongue flicked between her lips and touched hers; our tongues moved along each other. It was a very nice feeling.
My tongue moved along her teeth, then my lips grabbed her tongue and pulled it all the way into my mouth. Then I stopped and we both laughed again. My mouth then went to her throat and I gently sucked it and licked it at the same time. She softly moaned, and I wondered how far I should take this. I glanced at her bed, off to the side, and thought about her naked on it while I spread and filled her, her legs wrapped around me as I went deep in.