Earning An A

During my second year in college I had elected to stay on campus during summer break. I knew, regrettably, that if I went back home, I would end up working in my father's lumber yard throughout the long and hot summer months. At least at school, I would still live in my entertaining, but juvenile dorm, and be able to pick up a few extra credits by taking some easy courses. One such course would be fulfilled by working a few days a week at a large insurance company, as arranged by the Business Department.

In this way, I could earn some cash while getting an easy "A" to boost my grade average. I had heard through the grapevine that the job was easy and that the abundance of hot looking babes strolling through the building made the days go by quickly. Long legs, short skirts, and a paycheck too sounded pretty good to this nineteen, and soon-to-be twenty year-old. The only drawback was not having a car. I had to either bum a ride with the other students who had chosen to do as I did, or walk. Nevertheless, it was a small price to pay in order to save my hands from being punctured by splinters of wood for yet another year.

The insurance company's building was huge and recently constructed. As I had been told, hundreds…well, maybe not hundreds, but quite a few good-looking females strolled up and down the aisles continuously, making it very difficult to want to look at a computer screen all day. I'm sure that I spent half of my time leaning back in my chair, watching long legs and tight butts pass by my cubicle. As a result of this pastime, my subsequent three years of college life changed drastically on the one day that I got caught sneaking a peek, and that was only because I lost my balance. I had leaned back too far in my chair as I scouted out another "10", nearly tumbling head over heels. I reached out to regain my balance and knocked a dozen or so files to the floor, scattering papers all over the place.

The girl I had been looking at only turned her head, smiled, and kept walking to her destination, not bothering to visit with the little people who blindly worshiped her. A second or two later, I learned why she hadn't stopped. It just so happened that the floor supervisor had been walking only a short distance behind this tanned and toned diversion. While I was on my hands and knees busily picking up the clutter, she, the supervisor, stopped at the entrance to my work space. I noticed her feet, but not looking up, didn't realize that it was the woman who could send me out the door with an "F" as a grade. Instantaneously willing to show how stupid a freshman in college could really be, I put my foot into my mouth as far as I could, starting a chain reaction that would ultimately go nuclear.

"Don't just stand there like an idiot," I said. "Help me pick up this fucking mess."

The two feet in the doorway moved closer, and as she bent down to do as I had so eloquently requested, the image of her two knees entered into my peripheral view. Trying to not be too obvious, I studied the smooth, soft skin that had stretched tautly over the joints that appeared from under her rising skirt. Her knees seemed larger in size than what I had expected, but the bonus view of the attached solid meat above her knees more than made up for that slight imperfection. She then turned to her right as she stretched as far as she could to reach for a paper that had slid under my cabinet. In doing so, she brought the full expanse of her appealing ass into my line of vision. With no need to worry about being seen now, I gazed intently at the round, firm looking figure in front of me. Her well tailored dress, which had been fitted properly when she purchased it, now struggled to present its intended, lady-like image. The heavier edge of her panty appeared as a distinctive line under her skirt.

The mischievous temptation to grab that line and pull it was immense. I could just imagine hearing the slight snap as the elastic recoiled back to her ass, eliciting a surprised yelp from the woman wearing them. My next thought was to sneak up and grab her by the waist, playfully mimicking a dog and fucking her from behind. I could just see myself holding her hips firmly as I rammed my hard cock into her bulging cunt. My imagination was working so well that I could almost hear the slapping sounds our skin would make as my thighs collided with the backs of hers as I rammed my cock as far as I could into the wet hole between her legs. I could even see pulsating ripples of flesh traverse her ass as my forceful hammering went on relentlessly. Not being dim-witted as to the ramifications of such actions, I flung that thought out of my mind and went about picking up the rest of the papers within my reach.

I searched out the last document which had fallen under my desk and wheeled around quickly, coming within an eyelash of smashing into the face of the woman who had just helped me. A wide-eyed, expression of total surprise most assuredly covered my face as I gazed through her dark-rimmed glasses and into the large, brown eyes of the "all-business", Ms. Virginia Black, supervisor. I desperately tried to look elsewhere, only to find my eyes staring down the cavernous opening of her blouse. The smooth curves of her two adequately sized tits, and the lace bra that held them in place, caused my eyes to lock onto them as if I were a fighter pilot taking aim at an enemy target. Immediate panic coursed through my body, causing me to throw my head upward and to stare back into her huge brown eyes once more.

"My god they're big," I thought to myself. "Her eyes and her tits."

I would have sworn that there was a slight indication of amusement in the stare which she sent back at me. We were both on our hands and knees, nose to nose. One could think that we were two scientists trying to imitate the territorial battle of two bull moose out in the wilds of Alaska.

When the full devastating impact of appreciating the fact that I was on the floor with my supervisor, and that I had called her an idiot just a few seconds ago, an immediate sense of impending doom filled my being. I slumped my ass to the floor, knowing in my heart that I could soon be heading back to the lumber yards of my father. Without thinking, I blurted out the first word that came into my brain to express my growing frustrations.

"Shit," came out very loud and very clear.

Immediately I put my hand over my mouth, wondering how much more trouble I could get myself into. Unfortunately, I didn't have to wait very long to find out. Once again I blurted out the first word that came into my head. Regrettably, I hadn't covered my mouth well enough to prevent that vocalization either.

"Fuck," was the next word that came so effortlessly from my lips.

"You do have a way with the English language, Mr. Philip Dumas," she said coolly.

This time before I tried to speak, I thought…and I said nothing. I remained seated on the floor and watched as Ms. Virginia Black rose gracefully from her hands and knees, still clutching the papers she had retrieved from the floor. As she stood over me, she smoothed out her skirt, bending slightly to brush off any dust that had clung to the stockings covering her legs. Standing erect once again, she looked down at me in the same way my mother probably did after I had fallen down when first attempting to walk. I'm sure that my mother had more than likely picked me up and told me that everything would be all right. There would be no comforting actions taken, nor words spoken, from the woman standing over me now. Not this time.

I sat silently, akin to a doomed prisoner, waiting for a callous executioner's hand to pull the switch that would send enough electricity through my body to light up New York City. To my surprise however, a postponement of my death sentence had been granted by a compassionate governor. I would be allowed to live another day, but would I ever be granted a full pardon?

"I believe these belong to you," she said, bending over at her waist and holding out the disorganized files to me.

I reached up from my sitting position and once again the gaping space created by her tits came into view. This time however, gravity had produced a more tempting panorama for my eyes to gaze upon. The pull of the earth's mass had caused her tits to fall forward; two soft, round, collections of flesh struggled to stay in place. Only the expert construction of a quality bra kept her hard nipples from pitching into my face. I quickly reached out and took the papers from her hand, hoping that I wouldn't grab a handful of tit to boot. She remained in that position after I had the papers in my hands, but for only a second or two. She stared intently into my eyes, never blinking as I stared back at her. I thought that she was organizing the words she would be saying next as she told me that my services would no longer be needed. Instead, she returned to her standing position and smiled down at me, just as my mother had done some years ago.

"Make sure you straighten that mess out properly Mr. Dumas," she said softly.

"Yes maam," was all I could say.

"And be careful about who you say the "f" word to. It could get you into a situation you hadn't planned on getting into, and may not be able to get out of."

I nodded yes, not trusting myself to speak anymore.

She turned on her heals and left as quietly as she had entered. I watched as she glided gracefully down the aisle, surprised that I could still see the line of her panty etched onto her backside. It was only then that I became aware of the soft scent of her perfume which still lingered inside of my cubicle. I took a long deep breath, feeling somewhat excited by the smell of this older woman. Did I fail to mention that Ms. Virginia Black was an older woman? Quite a bit older. She had been with the company for almost thirty years now, making her age somewhere around the half-century mark. Granted, she couldn't compete with the kids I went to school with, or the gold-diggers that strutted their stuff down the corridors of this company, but she really didn't look that bad for her age.

When I first met her a few weeks ago during our group's preliminary introduction, I studied her body intently, owing that to a lack of any real interest in what she was saying. On that day she wore a more conservative outfit which concealed much of her figure. Thanks to a glitch in the air-conditioning system, the jacket that she was wearing came off after just a few minutes had passed. Although her blouse remained buttoned, the ample set of tits which she had just tried to smother me with could not be hidden. Even in the heat of that sauna-like room, perky, hard nipples would stand up to be noticed every once in a while. Her long, light-brown hair had hung limply down to her shoulders. Thirty minutes into her rambling, the heat caused her to gather her hair behind her head. She clamped it in place with some device that only women can manipulate, and stuck a long yellow pencil through it.

Her once hidden and long neck now seemed to be searching for someone to nuzzle their mouth on it. I studied her posture as she walked back and forth in front of our group and surmised that she had gotten her job with the help of her body those thirty-years ago. Back then I'm sure that she had quite the hourglass figure. Time had caused some of that sand to clog in the middle, but she still carried herself with the confidence of a model on a runway. I was sure that her hips had widened to some extent, and a slight bulge was noticeable just below her bellybutton. Most assuredly, a tight pair of jeans, although I'm sure quite attractive looking, could be moderately uncomfortable. I concluded that Ms. Virginia Black must have been one hell of a fuck in her younger years, but she had probably passed her prime some years ago. Nevertheless, she would be quite a catch for one of the older executives of the company. So I thought.

I later learned from one of the other women who had been with the company for some time that Virginia Black had been married for ten years. After the birth of her daughter, her "ex" left her for some nineteen-year-old stripper. She had supported herself and was now pretty well off. Her daughter had made her a grandmother two years ago, but none of her successes had tempered her distrust of men. Absolutely no one had ever known of her having a boyfriend since her divorce. Not even a date had ever been confirmed. One could only imagine the amount of pressure that had built up inside of her body. As I left my informant's presence, I chuckled to myself when I thought of the poor sucker who might be between Ms. Black's legs when that long awaited orgasm exploded. If he didn't hold on tight, she just might pitch him up to the ceiling.

As summer drew to a close, I was eager to get back into the routine of a regular college semester. My daily trek to work had become challenging at times, and somewhat monotonous. I needed to relax in the "party-hardy" atmosphere our campus had become famous for. Finally, my last week of work had arrived. The company had scheduled an "End Of Summer" party for that Friday, inviting all of its employees, and even the students from my class. I hadn't intended to partake, hoping to take in a local band at the university pub after work instead. At least there, I could drink all I wanted and walk across the street to get back to my room in the dorm. The company party was scheduled to start at three o'clock in the cafeteria. I remained in my cubicle, electing to go over the course catalog for the upcoming semester and schedule my classes.

At just a few minutes before five I was surprised to hear the sound of a light tap on the wall of my cubicle. I looked up to find a woman standing in the doorway, her hands grasping the frame of the door above her head, her legs spread as far apart as the framework would allow. It took me a couple of seconds to recognize the face of Ms. Virginia Black. This was entirely due to the way she was dressed. Although her face and hairstyle had remained the same, her daily, dull, conservative garb had been replaced by bright and sexy summer dress. Thin straps of material traversed her bare shoulders, making a vain attempt at convincing people that it was their strength and not the size of Ms. Black's tits that held this dress in place. Obviously, she didn't wear one of her industrial-strength bras today. The dress buttoned in front with the last button located just above her crotch. Usually her dresses came to just below her knees. The hem of today's outfit lay a good three inches above. There were no stockings covering her smoothly shaved legs and a pair of high-heeled sandals completed the outfit.

If I had thought that she had seen my dumbest faces before, I was only fooling myself. I consciously had to close my mouth before a bat saw it and considered it to be a cave to fly into. I made a futile attempt to stand which only caused my chair to roll backwards. My mind's sense of direction short-circuited as I helplessly felt my eyes wander aimlessly over her body. Automatically my hand went to my temple as I tried to think of something to say. I opened my mouth, only to have nothing come out.

"Why didn't this happen the last time she was here," I thought.

I was positive that Ms. Black was totally aware of my uncomfortable feeling. I hoped that she would do something to diminish my fears. Instead, she turned the dials that were controlling the situation between us to their limits. Slowly she walked over to my desk, carefully placing one foot in front of the other as she strode towards me. I prayed that she wouldn't get any closer as she stood next to my desk. Unfortunately for me, she had other plans. With measured speed, she gradually lifted her right leg and placed the right cheek of her ass onto my desk. Not caring about what was on my desk, she slid her ass further onto it. The hem of her skirt had now slipped up to the middle of her thigh. Had my chair been in its lowest position, I would have had a clear line of vision to her snatch. Paralysis overwhelmed every part of my body, except for my dick. That little bastard was having the time of its life, bouncing around like a lunatic in a straight-jacket. A tight pair of jockey shorts was the only thing that stopped that fucking asshole from pulling down my zipper and sticking its head out for a better look.

Ms. Black continued her travels until her entire ass was sitting on my desk. She crossed her legs slowly and then kept them tightly closed. I begged every god that I could think of, and then made up a few of my own, that she would keep them that way. She swung her feet back and forth, looking more like her two year-old granddaughter than the supervisor of an entire department. She leaned towards me and smiled, just as she had done when she stood over me a few weeks before. I stared back at her, afraid that if I looked elsewhere she would uncross her legs spread them as far apart as she could. Finally, her voice broke the silence between us.

"Aren't you coming to the party?" she asked softly.

"No," I said hesitantly. "I have some work for school that I need to do."

"All work and no play makes Phil a dull boy," she replied with the hint of a tease in her voice.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I get my playtime in."

"I'm sure you do Phil, but the company would like to see all of its employees have fun today. And it's my job to make sure of that they do. And that means you too."

I had no idea how to take what she just said. I decided to adhere to my new rules of communicating with supervisors and say nothing.

"Why don't you come down to the cafeteria and join the rest of us. The food is first rate and they don't card anyone. What do you say?"

"I really can't. I don't want to walk back to the campus tonight and the guy I'm hitching a ride with has to get back early to go to a class. Sorry."

"No good Phil," she said playfully. "I can give you a ride back to your dorm. I've got no one to hurry back to at home. I won't take no for an answer. If you want an "A" for this course, you better get your ass downstairs and have some fun. Understand?"

I really did want an "A" for this course, and if it meant having to go to a party for a couple of hours, I could survive. And I was sure that the food would be a lot better than the leftovers I usually found at the university's dining hall. Also, I had no reason to fear Ms. Black. She had dressed casually for the party, and I was pretty sure that she did have orders from above that all of her employees should attend. Consequently, with much less reluctance than before, I decided to accept Ms. Virginia Black's offer.

"You do have a way with the English language Ms. Black," I said with a small smile. "I'll come. But first let me finish what I have here."

"Great. I'll see you in a little while. And by the way. Call me Virginia."

Bells and whistles should have sounded a deafening alarm inside of my head with that last comment she made, but the sight of Ms. Blacks legs as she slid off of my desk disconnected any wiring that would have saved my life. An unseen hand, not holding sharp wire-cutters but rather the edge of my supervisor's dress, sealed my fate. As she slowly let her body inch to the front of my desk, her skirt rode higher and higher up her legs. Time and motion had somehow gone into a much more leisurely gear as her feet finally touched the ground. Her skirt now barely covered her crotch. The air inside my cubicle had suddenly disappeared. Total deafness resulted, given that the sound waves had no medium to travel through. I watched as a pencil rolled to the edge of my desk and floated gently to the floor, landing next to her feet without the slightest clatter. I stared as Ms. Black spun on her heals. Her skirt flared out due to the speed of her spin, but the effects of the "twilight zone" I found myself in made the events I was watching move frame by frame. It was like watching the highlights of a figure skater twirl on the glass-smooth surface of ice. The hem of her skirt rose, revealing the thick thighs of a physically fit athlete. Obviously Ms. Black had taken very good care of her body over the years. As the backside of her body finally faced in my direction, her skirt had risen to its highest point. A brief-styled, white panty finally came into view. The firm and proportionate cheeks of her ass revealed their smooth surface to me. Panties like this were probably outlawed in skating competitions. If Ms. Black had been wearing skates instead her sandals, I would have given her a "ten" for a score.