An ex-NewForester story that I have tidied up a bit and re-issued under the new name Rockycoveboy.
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Georgina Lent was my first boss. I was 19 and it was my first job, in a little accounts office, and Georgina Lent seemed ancient. Gradually, however, I had become infatuated with her, and very often thought about her at night. She did filthy things in my dreams.
I had bummed about for a couple of years previously, doing a few beach jobs down on the south coast, but I thought it was about time I found a more reliable job, and applied for a little accounts job, in a factory in East Anglia, only a few hours drive from where my family lived. I had moved into some nice 'lodgings' nearby, had a few 'O' levels to my name, and was offered the job, there and then, at the interview. The Financial Controller interviewed me, and the name Mrs Lent drifted past me as being 'Head of Section.' I met her on the following Monday morning, when I started, and, initially, she was just another middle-aged woman. Peroxide blonde, but still ancient as far as I was concerned.
My interest in women, up until then, had been girls of my own age or even younger, and Mrs Lent was just 'my boss.' I hadn't had a regular girlfriend since leaving the family home, and was just pleased to get a regular job. Georgina Lent seemed pleasant enough, and she was kind enough to remark on my firm handshake, but I paid no further heed as I was introduced to the two other women who worked in the 'purchase ledger' part of the office. They, also, held no interest for me, and I was a little depressed to find that I had got a job with three women, all old enough to be my mother.
However, over the coming months, I learnt a bit more about Georgina Lent, and she became intriguing. The women often gossiped between themselves, but Mrs Lent never let anyone forget that she was 'head of section'. She could be vindictive, bitter, and sometimes rude to the other women, and it was my first experience of bitchiness amongst adult women. On the phone, she put on a 'haughty' voice, a 'plum' in her mouth, and she could put people down with just one look, or a sharp word.
She was always polite to me, though, as I never gave her cause to be rude, and I slowly realised that she was like this with most men. I listened to the conversations as we worked, and I gathered that Georgina was 51 years old - two or three lifetimes away from me, it seemed at the time. She never gave anything else away, and it was only when she wasn't there, and the other women were 'bad mouthing' her and being bitchy behind her back, that I picked up little snippets of information. Once upon a time, possibly, she had been married, and once upon a time, possibly, she had had a son. She also had a 'friend' called George.
Georgina Lent had wonderful breasts, and her thighs were superb, and it was these attractions that made working life that little bit more bearable. She was well aware of the fact, though, and very often some of the older men would come by for a chat, and she would tease them, and flaunt herself a little as she sat in her chair. She would never appear to be doing it on purpose, it always appeared as though it was an accident that her skirt had rucked up, as her chair slid away from the desk, or that her sweater was pulled tightly over her chest, accentuating the full, curved breasts.
The men would lean against the wall behind her, casually chatting, and she knew that, over her shoulder, they were ogling the expanse of nylon covered thigh on view, and she did absolutely nothing to retain her modesty. A wonderful cock-teaser, but always trying to give the impression that butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. I tried not to glare or take any notice, but I knew full well how she manipulated situations, and stayed in control of those around her.
Her 'friend' George was a strange man. He must have been nearer 60 than 50, and he appeared every now and then, at the end of the day, obviously ready to take Mrs Lent home. He worked in another part of the factory, and I never knew his surname, nor was I ever introduced to him, but it seemed pretty obvious that he was married, and Georgina was his 'bit on the side.' She went off in his flash car after work, and often she would come in and say, 'Oh, George bought me this,' or 'George told me that,' but that's all I ever got to know about the relationship.
Mind you, George felt the lash of her tongue as much as anybody else. It was obviously him on the phone on numerous occasions, and Georgina would cut him dead, and put the phone down gently, to leave him to fester, or she would bombard him with questions about where he'd been, with whom, why didn't you phone, etc, etc, and on some evenings when he waited for her, she would give him the 'silent' treatment as they made for the door together. I felt sorry for George sometimes.
I gradually got used to the job, and looked forward to going into work each day. I always waited to see what Georgina was wearing, as she was always very smart, and her body became more and more appealing, as a pleasant distraction during the working day. It was always high heels that she wore, and always a skirt or dress, or business suit, never trousers. Her nylons were dark brown, or black, and the skirts were on or just above the knee. Her favourite was a simple black dress, which clung to the curves of her middle-age figure, but it accentuated the fine breasts, her waist, the curve of her hips, and her fine ass. Her other favourite outfit was a tight, white jumper, with a light blue skirt and, again, these items managed to cling to her body wonderfully.
I always dressed smartly for work, and Mrs Lent was always very polite to me and tried to involve me in all the conversations within the group. I was still young and fit, and a bit timid, and played a lot of sport, and I don't know whether she found this a turn-on or not, but if I had a query with an invoice or something, and needed to go to her desk, there was no doubt that she would give me a display, whilst not appearing to.
Her chair would slide back on its rollers, and those stunning thighs would appear, her skirt almost up to the stocking tops, for that's what I'm sure she always wore. We would discuss the invoice problem, but I was acutely aware that she was enjoying displaying herself, and she would always give me a smile as our conversation ended. As a young man, I wanted just to reach down and run my hand up her thigh, feeling the white skin above the stockings, but I never indicated such thoughts in any way whatsoever, and this might have been part of the fun for Georgina -look, but don't touch.
The daughter of one of the other women in the section was having her 18th birthday party, and we were all invited to her house on a Saturday evening. I went along, on my own, not knowing anybody, apart from the ladies from work, and Georgina was there, also on her own. She gave the air of 'mother hen' watching over her flock, and the others tried to ignore her as much as possible but, being the gentleman, I asked her for a dance, a slow number, and took her into the middle of the room.
She seemed really chuffed that a young 19 year old had put himself out for her, and eagerly allowed me to hold her hand and put my arm around her waist, as we danced. I was taller than Georgina, and she looked up into my eyes as we just shuffled round, and she seemed very attentive, but nothing was said that could be considered even mildly flirtatious. It was purely colleague to colleague. However, I did enjoy feeling her back, smelling her perfume, and having her body up close to mine, and it only enhanced my lurid fantasies about her when I slowly played with my cock, later in bed that night.
I also had a dance with the 18 year old birthday girl but, even though her skirt was almost round her neck, and her boobs were bouncing about all over the place, she didn't arouse half as many erotic feelings in me as Georgina had.
Back at work, I continued to survey the mature head of section as often as I could, and I knew that she would innocently put on a display for me, if the situation lent itself. One afternoon, there were only 3 of us there, and Georgina and Kathy, the eldest in our section, were discussing some local chap who had got into trouble with the law for taking photos of young girls. Georgina seemed to revel in the scandal, and I just watched and listened as I carried on with the invoices.
