My first real job out of school was not the greatest, but the ladies in my department made it tolerable for a couple of years until I found something better. It's amazing how a measly two years in a standard office job made my resume improve. I even had training and professional references to add.
Naturally my boss at Widgets Inc. (not the real name) was a guy and naturally he was clueless ... just a paper pusher putting in his time before he moved up the management ranks. Unlike a lot of paper pushers I met later, Mr. Timothy was just smart enough to realize that "his" department was running like a well oiled machine when he arrived. So instead of making a bunch of pointless changes and screwing things up ... he sat in his office and did little besides reading reports, surfing the web during conference calls, and schmoozing his boss.
Our real manager -- without the title or salary -- was Mrs. Miriam Bright and she was a peach. We called her Mrs. Bright in front of managers, Miriam to her face and "Mama Bear" behind her back. She had been in the job nearly 10 years and had gradually taken on more responsibility and tasks until she knew EVERYTHING backwards and forwards. The only time she bothered Mr. Timothy was when she needed something signed by a manager or wanted one of us to get a raise. Mr. Timothy was supposed to do the hiring and firing, and write our annual reviews, but Mrs. Bright did that for him. All he had to do was sit with us for a five minute chat once a year, then sign the paperwork. He had even less to do with the comings and goings.
Mrs. Bright taught me my job and a lot else besides and of course I got to know her along with the other women in the office. She was in her late 30s, divorced with two kids in junior high. She was big, standing 5-foot-10, before she put on her 1-inch heels, with big, full breasts and a big, solid ass.
But she wasn't fat. I could see that even in the conservative clothes she wore to the office. She just had big tits and a big ass, and a sharply indented waist with maybe a barely noticeable bulge below her navel. Who wouldn't after two kids?
After her size, the next thing you noticed was her sweep of long, blonde hair, her welcoming smile and her intense blue eyes.
Of her personal life, all we ever heard about was her kids -- a boy and a girl -- and occasional a rueful laugh over some unexpected home or car repair. There was speculation about her love life -- or lack thereof -- around the office. Some of my co-workers couldn't imagine getting along without a man in their lives and she never mentioned one, except rarely, her ex.
I came in for some prying questions myself, along with unwelcome suggestions that I go on dates with various nephews and cousins of my co-workers. I know how some women like to speculate about the preferences of visibly single women, so I would show a little interest, then come up with creative excuses when somebody tried to arrange an actual date.
I thought my tactics worked until some time later when I learned of rumors that I was gay. But in fact, after graduation my long-time boyfriend had broken up with me. He got a job in a distant city and announced his intention to go there as a bachelor.
I was sort of heart-broken, but after a few days, sort of not. He was only a C+ boyfriend and if he'd asked me to go with him I would probably have given it some thought and said 'No.' We had a lot of history together, but he tended to be self-centered -- especially in bed.
So my single status had been noted and the wrong conclusions drawn. It probably didn't help that my work wardrobe consisted mainly of black jeans, Doc Martens and tops varying from feminine and flowing to plain black and snug. Thrift stores YAY! You can wear about anything in an office where you never meet any clients or, in fact, hardly anybody from the rest of the company. When I felt dressy I pulled a skirt over tights or yoga pants -- both forbidden by themselves.
The rest of this story should start, "So there I was ... minding my own business," because it's just that simple. A misunderstanding, loneliness, a deep need for a gentle touch and an intimate caress. And a woman always giving and giving to her children, her job, her co-workers ... never acknowledging her own needs. And don't forget lowered inhibitions.
Mr. Timothy got his promotion and decided to throw himself a going-away party at the close of business Friday. And naturally Miriam organized the whole thing including the cake and the going-away present ... a bottle of premium bourbon paid for out of the little fund we collected so everybody would get flowers on her birthday.
In an excess of good feeling, Mr. Timothy opened the bottle and insisted we all take a shot with him. A few declined, but I thought "Why not?" and saw Miriam gamely downing her slug of bourbon. Then Mr. Timothy had the idea of toasting Miriam realizing ... because he wasn't a complete idiot ... that his success was mostly due to her efficiency. So Miriam and Mr. Timothy each had a second shot.
I think Mr. Timothy would have emptied the bottle toasting everybody, but Miriam got him organized and down the elevator to the garage. After the lights above the elevator showed Mr. Timothy had gone down a few floors we all burst into spontaneous laughter. Goodbye Mr. Tim!
The office cleared quickly after that, but I stayed behind to help. My friend Shirley was on cleanup duty, but she asked me to switch with her because she had to get home to her family. Yo-ho for the single life!
Miriam and I chatted a bit while cleaning up, then fell silent concentrating on getting things right. Nobody wants to come back from the weekend to a break room full of party trash.
Finally we were done, the lights were out and we were chatting again as we walked side by side to the elevator. But then Miriam tripped, instinctively grabbed my arm and we tumbled to the floor with Miriam on top.
For a long, long moment Miriam lay on me, our legs tangled, her big breasts pressing against my small ones and her face inches above me. I smelled her light, flowery perfume mixed with the scent of bourbon. Her eyes bore into mine with a question. I smiled.
Then she kissed me. And it was no peck on the lips! She crushed her mouth on mine and before I could react her tongue was in my mouth, searching eagerly for mine and finding it. I was too shocked to react, but Miriam kissed me and kissed me, deeply and desperately.
It was ... okay. After the first shock of being kissed by a woman I realized it was much like being kissed by a man, minus the whiskers. But softer. Sensual.
And I liked it!
And then, I guess, passion begets passion. It felt good to be kissed so eagerly, with lips and a tongue that told me with every sensation that Miriam wanted me. All of me. Suddenly her hands were holding my head and she was kissing my eyes, my nose, my cheeks, showering me with light, eager kisses. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close.
But then she pulled away, wrenching herself upright.
"I'm sorry! I'm sooo sorry! I shouldn't have done this, I ... it just came over me ... like ... I'm sooo sorry!"
My heart filled when I saw the anguish on Miriam's handsome face, so lovable and sincere, with her real fear that she'd crossed a line and couldn't be forgiven. I put my hand over her mouth.
"Shhh, it's all right," I said. "I'm not angry, just surprised. Is this what I think it is?"
She stared down into my eyes.
"I ... I have watched you, wanted you, knew I could never have you because it's not right. I ... I'm your boss. I should be fired!"
"No, Miriam, you should NOT be fired and you won't be fired."
And I kissed her.
Why? Because the passion of her kisses and the weight of her body on mine had awakened desire. She was a woman, and I'd never wanted a women. But after months of celibacy, now I was SO ... FUCKING ... HORNY for this woman! I could feel my damp panties clinging to my puss.
I didn't know how it would work ... if it would work ... but I wanted her to FUCK ME! ... to feel her weight pinning me down ... those wonderful tits bare and heavy against my face.
I rolled her off me, stood up and reached down to help her stand. My heart thudded when I saw the hope spread over her face.
"Yes?" she asked. "We're okay?
