Most of this story is true. Names slightly altered.
I graduated one quarter early from high school back in the 1980's, so I decided to take some classes at the local Junior College that spring. I was almost 19 and was very much looking forward to meeting new people and mingling with the college girls. I needed some extra money, as most of us did back then, so I answered an ad that had been posted on the bulletin board in the student center. The ad went something like this:
Wanted: Real Estate Assistant. To help with office work, photographing target properties, and other tasks, as assigned. I think it was something like $9 an hour.
I had done a fair bit of photography in high school and I was planning on being a finance major, so this seemed to fit better than something like a restaurant job. I called the contact, Barbara Beason, and we set an appointment to meet at her home one afternoon. Ms Barbara, as I would come to call her, lived in an upscale neighborhood close to Atlanta. I knocked on her door and saw a somewhat attractive 50ish woman making her way to the door. She had medium length brown hair, a pleasant smile, and she looked quite busty underneath her very conservative business suit.
We sat in her kitchen and got to know one another. She was an empty nester and her husband had passed away 8 years prior. She sent her kids to the best private schools for high school and college and only one remained in college... somewhere in the northeast. She came off as very controlled and together. She was very pleasant. She spoke quite precisely and somewhat formally, but it was more comforting that off-putting. We hit it off immediately and she even knew some of my parents friends. It was agreed that I would start the following week. One or two afternoons a week, as scheduled and needed.
I enjoyed the work very much. She would make copies of the local atlas and mark the approximate locations of the houses and townhomes that she needed me to photograph. I would take pictures and take the film to get developed (yes, developed, remember this was in the 1980's). Then I would head back to Ms. Barbara's house and help her with whatever else she needed. Sometimes it was office work and sometimes she would ask me to do a few household things. Blow off the driveway or her tennis court, maybe help her move something heavy. She lived alone in that huge house, after raising 4 boys in it, and she badly needed to downsize.
In May of that year, something happened that would change our friendship tremendously. I came back to her house one afternoon after taking photos. I did a few things and we sat down at the kitchen table. This was pretty much the routine at this point. I would wrap up whatever needed doing and we would sit down and chat. Even though she had moved from the northeast, she had fallen in love with southern sweet tea. She would pour us both a glass and we would just talk about life. How were my parents... What her boys were up to, etc..
This particular afternoon, Mrs. Barbara had removed her business suit jacket and she was just in her skirt, nylons, and silky blouse. She had undone a few buttons on her blouse because it was starting to get warm. I honestly do not think she had anything in mind when she did that... but this is what happened:
Apparently, I kept looking at her magnificent cleavage and she took note of that fact. When she caught me looking one more time, she paused whatever she was talking about and I could tell I was busted.
"So, Michael, I couldn't help notice that you keep looking down my blouse."
I was somewhat mortified, but not totally embarrassed. "Oh, Mrs. Barbara, I am so sorry about that. I will do better, I promise."
"Oh no, dear. It is perfectly natural for a man of your age to do that. I'm actually flattered that you want to look."
After a pause, she looked me dead in the eye, and in her serious business tone, she said, "Tell me, Michael. Would you like to see them?"
My eyes widened and she could see the excitement on my face. "Definitely!"
With that, she slowly unbuttoned her blouse while watching my eyes feast on the unveiling. Finally, she reached behind her back and unhooked her fortress of a bra. When she pulled her bra out of her blouse, I could finally see those gorgeous breasts.
She had some freckles on her upper chest, but her breasts were as creamy as milk. Her areola's were quite large and I noticed already that her nipples were hardening. They had a beautiful deep pink color.
"Wow. They are fantastic! Really gorgeous!"
Ms. Barbara actually blushed at my compliment!
"Why thank you, Michael."
With her serious, but sweet, teachers tone, she said to me, "Now reach out and touch them. Gently at first."
