I was working my way through college several years ago as a mainframe computer operator on the graveyard shift. Mainframe computers at that time were giant machines that stored data on large reels of magnetic tape, read data from punched cards and generally took a someone to baby-sit them all the time they were working. They were too expensive to be allowed to sit idle, so it required someone on duty 24 hours.
The building where I worked contained several offices besides the top floor firm where I worked. Most of them were empty at night, but there were still a few people around at any hour. The building janitorial crew worked through the night, as did the security guards and we all knew each other just enough to say "hi" and "bye." Most of these workers were college students like myself, including one of the security guards.
Lisha was a dance major at the nearby university and had a dancer's lithe body. Slender and fit with small, almost tiny breasts; a firm, taut bottom, long legs and a perpetual smile. Her flawless skin was the color of cinnamon, showing her African ancestry. Well, actually she was born in a nearby suburb and her parents were from Jamaica, but ultimately her ancestors were from Africa. She appointed herself as the giver of hugs for the building. Anyone of the regular night crew, male or female, was greeted with Lisha's arms thrown around their neck and quickly released. The first time she grabbed me, it was over before I could respond. I got to expect it after that, and was ready to hug right back.
Now I'll admit that I prefer women with a bit of padding on them, I always have. Lisha was pretty with a narrow face, pleasant smile and deep brown eyes, and definitely fashionably slender, but I wasn't really attracted to her. But it was nice to get a hug now and again.
One night she came up to my floor to use the microwave oven. She was having trouble with the controls and I showed her how to use them, rescuing her food from overheating. In thanks, she threw her arms around me in another hug. This one lasted longer than usual and instead of bouncing away like she usually did; she kept hold of me and leaned back slightly. What is it about that certain way a woman tilts her head that indicates she wants kissed? Is it something instinctual? Lisha tilted her head that way, fixed her dark eyes on me and I knew that I wasn't going to be released without a kiss.
This was the first time I ever kissed a black woman. Her lips were soft and full and wonderful and then they parted. Her tongue danced into my mouth, seeking my tongue and swirling around in a fantastic manner. No only was she a dancer, her tongue had it's own talented dance. We held each other for quite a while, both unwilling to let go. Finally it was time for both of us to return to work, before someone noticed our absence. If this were just a fantasy, we would have thrown off our clothes and done it right there on the floor. However, we both knew that was out of the question and simply went back to work. For a few weeks things didn't go any further. We contented ourselves with stealing a kiss when we had a moment alone together.
That is until one night when I arrived at work at my usual time to find Lisha at her post in the lobby along with another guard. For some reason, management wanted the guard shifts to overlap more than usual so that one guard could stay at the security desk and the other could patrol the building. Lisha rode up in the elevator with me. Of course, as soon as the doors closed we were in each other's arms, lips and tongues intertwined. Lisha reached over and pressed every button on the elevator panel so that it stopped at every floor. The ride up took a lot longer than usual, but it was still too short for us. I had just enough time to reach under her uniform sweater for the first time, undo a couple buttons of her white shirt and massage her nipples through her satiny bra. At the top floor we reluctantly let go and she put her clothes back into order. She whispered in my ear that she would be up to see me later.
I was distracted, thinking of her the whole time during the shift turnover, getting the briefing from the outgoing operator, loading the data cards, tapes and all the other things that my job needed me to do. Finally I heard a tapping on the window that looked out on the hallway. There she was. I dashed out of the computer room and into her arms. For several minutes we stood there, enjoying each other's lips. Then I had an idea. There was a couch in the big boss' corner office and his door had a lock on it.
I untangled myself from her arms and guided her out of the computer department and down the dark hallway to the executive area, neither of us able to keep our hands off each other. I didn't want to turn on the lights, and we stumbled around in the dark until we got into the corner office where the downtown lights shining through the windows gave us a little bit of illumination. I pulled out the wedge from under the door and let it close, driving it under the closed door as insurance. There was a table lamp next to the couch, I switched it on and went back into Lisha's arms. She responded and we were soon sitting on the couch together.
I didn't know how much time we were going to have, especially for Lisha. I didn't want her to get fired for disappearing too long. I eased her sweater up over her head and off her arms, savoring the velvet softness of her skin and the firm dancer's muscles beneath. I undid the buttons on her white uniform shirt, eased it back off of her and played with her hard nipples through the smooth cups of her bra. When I managed to tear my mouth away from hers, I kissed and licked my way down the side of her neck, across her collarbone and towards the valley between her little breasts. At the same time I reached around behind her and fumbled for the clasp of her bra. After a few moments without success, I felt her hands under my chin as she undid the front clasp bra. The bra disappeared and I was treated to the vision of her small but firm breasts with thick nipples and aureoles the color of premium chocolate.
