The Temp Ch 01 1

Chapter I

Martin had no idea what to expect when they told him he was getting a temp. He had spent the past week in varying emotional states. They ranged from being irritated to being pleased and all the way over to stark terror.

He was irritated because he didn't think he had any need for a temp. He could handle his job quite well and was doubtful that an extra pair of hands would add anything to his work experience.

He was pleased because he saw this as an opportunity to help mentor a younger worker.

His terror came from the idea that the new temp might be a woman. Or more to the point, a young attractive woman! That could make things very awkward. At sixty years of age, he knew he wasn't likely to be on the wish list of many young women. But he had heard that many men had been subjected to sexual harassment suits by young office assistants in the recent past.

He was close enough to retirement age that an accusation like that wouldn't ruin his life. But he liked his work, and he wasn't ready to hang up his laptop. Not just yet!

He sighed audibly and stared absently out the window to the parking lot.

"I should call HR and tell them to send the temp somewhere else," he muttered quietly.

"That would be a shame!" a voice said from his doorway.

He looked up with a start to see Susan Wield, the HR director. Behind her was a mousey looking woman in her early twenties.

Susan was big, bold and brassy. She was in her forties, had bleached blond hair and enormous boobs. She always wore dresses that accentuated her curvy figure and high heels that thrust her ass out like the rear end of a tractor trailer.

She was funny and likeable though, and Martin always smiled when she came to see him.

"Cheer up Martin!" Susan said with a laugh, "You're getting a temp, not a replacement!"

Martin snickered and nodded uneasily.

"That's what you say now," he half-joked.

Susan scoffed and waved her arms forward and down in a gesture of dismissal.

"Nonsense!" she said, "And besides, this is a summer placement! Theresa hasn't even started college yet! Your job is quite safe!"

Martin sighed and nodded absently.

"Okay, this is Theresa," Susan said and pulled the woman who had been hiding behind her back forward, "She's going to help you in whatever way you find useful. She can type, she uses computers and knows how to file."

The girl, very short and slightly built, nodded shyly. She was dressed in a black pant suit, had large almost bug-eyed glasses on her face and long dark hair that fell halfway down her back.

"Be good to her and I'll be good to you!" Susan finished with a guffaw.

She left the room and Theresa looked toward him with wide eyes and a scared expression on her face.

Martin looked her over and then blushed slightly. He had been working himself up over this meeting for no good reason and he could see now that she was just a young girl who wanted a chance.

He sighed and did his best to show her an encouraging smile.

"Thanks for coming Theresa," he said uncomfortably, "I'm sure we'll find something you can do. Why don't you settle in at the desk in the outer office?"

The girl smiled shyly and nodded. Then she went to the desk outside his door.

She dropped her handbag on the floor by the chair and sat in the wooden roller chair.

Just then, Martin received an email. It was from Susan and had access and passcodes for Theresa to log onto the company computer.

He printed it out and then carried it out to Theresa's desk.

"You'll need these," he said and dropped the sheet onto the blotter in front of the girl, "I think it's self-explanatory, but I'll hang around until you've managed to log in."

Theresa gulped slightly but typed the details into the logon screen. Soon, she was looking at a welcome screen that guided her to set up her new email address. Within fifteen minutes she had everything she needed to get started.

"Well," Martin said with some surprise, "That was easy!"

"Yes it really was!" Theresa exclaimed happily, "I'm excited!"

Martin snickered quietly and looked at her. She was looking up at him like a child on Christmas morning. He felt something stir in him and he smiled in return. Then he coughed slightly and turned away.

"I'll um," he stammered, "I'll be, um, at my desk!"

"Yes!" she replied quickly, "Yes, for sure!"

Martin made a beeline into his office. As he passed through the door, he debated closing it, then decided that would be too unsociable. He was supposed to be showing this girl how their office worked, not shutting her out of his life!

He turned and smiled uncomfortably and then turned away again. Then he went and sat at his desk where he resumed staring out the window.

Theresa watched him go with a puzzled expression. She had been very pleased with the process of setting up her company account, and then he had suddenly walked away.

She shrugged and started playing a tutorial that would guide her through the company's systems.

Martin spent the rest of that day seated at his desk.

The days went by, and Martin was trying to get used to having an assistant. There wasn't much he could ask her to do, but he gave her some filing and asked her once to type a letter for him.

He regretted both.

The filing had been done so badly he'd had to redo the entire cabinet after she left for the day. The grammar in the letter he asked her to type was even worse.

After over a week, he was beginning to wonder how he could tell Susan to get Theresa out of his office. He tried to bring the subject up with the HR director a couple of times, but she had bulldozed her way through the conversation, the way she always did, until he couldn't get his facts together.

When he returned to the office, Theresa was sitting at her desk reading what looked like a magazine. She went to great pains to hide what she was reading, and Martin didn't care enough to make any effort to see it.

He just went through to his desk, sat down and went through the figures he would need to present to the quarterly meeting coming up next week.

He could see the young girl looking at him nervously. He decided to ignore it and do what he needed to do.

When next he raised his eyes, she was not at her desk. He reasoned she was probably in the ladies room. Several minutes later when she returned, she had an oddly flushed expression on her face. Her hair, usually tightly combed to her head, showed a few strands out of place. Her cheeks were redder than was usual for her and she glanced at him furtively when she took her chair.

Martin just sighed and decided to let her keep her secret, whatever that might be.

Over the next few days, he began to notice there was something of a pattern to her absences. It never happened at the same time, but it typically was after reading the magazines she hid at her desk. Then she would trot off to the washroom and return some fifteen minutes or so later.

On Friday afternoon, a time when most of the office had already gone home for an early weekend, Martin was hard at work finalizing his presentation.

He hadn't spoken much to Theresa since her first day and it appeared that was exactly the way she liked it. That was fine with him. He'd never wanted her in the office to begin with. They could go the entire summer nodding to each other in the morning and then again at night before they went home.

Now, he stood from his desk and breezed past her with a cordial nod in her direction. She gave him a look like a deer in the headlights and nodded in return.

Then he was in the washroom.

He did his business and then made a detour. He went outside to take in some fresh air. When he glanced in through the glass doors, he saw Theresa scurrying into the ladies room. He went back to staring across the parking lot and into the street. Then he went back inside.

He opened the glass doors and sauntered past the bathrooms. He wasn't thinking about much but was distracted by the sound of a soft voice. He stopped and listened more carefully and realized whoever was making the sound, they weren't talking. It sounded more like a soft groan.

He put his ear top the bathroom door and then he heard it. It was the unmistakable sound of someone moaning. There was a sort of rhythmic squishing sound to accompany it, but there was definitely someone moaning.

He immediately began to think that they were moaning in pain, as if they were having some sort of fever or medical emergency.

He pushed the door open and walked in. His eyes went wide as saucers, and he swallowed hard at what he saw.

Leaning against the far wall was Theresa with her pant suit jacket open. Her shirt underneath was also open exposing her bra. Her bra cup was pulled up to show one very nicely formed tit with a bright red nipple. She was pinching that nipple with the fingers of one hand.

Her other hand was sliding up and down her exposed vagina. Her slacks and panties were pooled around her ankles, and she was frantically rubbing her fingers against her sex.

On the counter in front of her was an open magazine. In truth, it was a comic book. But it wasn't any comic book that Martin was familiar with. The pictures in it were lewd, graphic and, from what he could see, very well drawn! There were naked women, naked men and enormous boobs and ridiculously huge dicks all over the page. One panel showed a massive cockhead at the entrance to a very pink slit. There were smears of semen all over it and a woman was calling out in ecstasy. At least that's what the caption read.

"Theresa!" he said.

"Oh my gosh!" she wailed and then hurried to try to cover herself.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, knowing full well what it was she was doing and how ridiculous it was for him to ask.

"I--!" she stammered guiltily while trying to pick up her slacks, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

"But--!" he flailed just as ineffectively, "I mean, in here?"

"I'm sorry!" she finally said and began to cry.

She had still not been able to retrieve her slacks or underwear. They remained lying on the floor around her ankles and she gave up on trying to hide her boob.

Martin felt badly for the girl. For just a moment, he was able to put himself in her shoes and imagined how mortified he would be if he got caught masturbating. After that thought entered his mind, he couldn't get rid of it.

'She was masturbating!'

He swallowed hard and tried to ignore his growing erection. He stared at her, still in shock from his discovery.

Without knowing why, he reached down and gripped her panties.

"Let me help you," he said in a world that had suddenly turned upside down.

He pulled the lacy garment up her thighs and pushed the gusset of the material upward between her thighs. He stared when he felt how wet she was. He pushed the panty harder up into her slit and she gasped.

"Oh Martin!" she said, "What are you doing?"

He put his whole hand over her mons as if he were holding the garment in place. This just reinforced how wet she was between her legs.

His erection poked against his fly, and he stared at her with big eyes.

"Let me help you," he whispered like it was some kind of mantra.

He put an arm around her back and pushed against her twat with his hand again.

"Ooh," she whispered.

Her eyes were fixed on his and she fell back against his steadying arm. She opened her legs wide to allow him to probe deeper. He responded by slipping his fingers past her panties. He slid one, then two and then three fingers into the mouth of her slit. She almost began to cry. She hadn't felt anything like what he was doing in a long time.

She let herself fall back completely. She slipped one foot out of her slacks on the floor and raised it to rest on the counter. Martin began pushing his fingers in and out of her and she shuddered. She was going to cum soon!

She was close when he walked in on her. Now she was right at the boiling point.

He gripped her tightly to him and pushed his fingers against her repeatedly. When her orgasm came, she scrunched herself up as every muscle in her body tensed. When the tide hit, she sighed heavily and collapsed against the counter.

Martin just watched her with his eyes fixed on her face. He still held her behind her back and his right hand was still probing her slit.

Suddenly, it was as if they both became aware of their surroundings at the same time.

Martin backed away from her and she cowered against the tile wall. They still stared at each other and then Martin finally broke the silence.

"I'll um," he said nervously, "I'll leave you to, um, well. I'll go back to my desk."

She nodded and continued to stare as he slowly backed out of the room. When he finally closed the door behind him she looked at herself in the mirror.

She slipped a hand between her thighs and felt the wetness there. She hadn't had an orgasm that intense since high school. She felt herself once more and was tempted to bring herself off again. Then she realized Martin would be waiting for her to return to her desk.

Reluctantly, she removed her fingers from inside her and adjusted her panties until they were straight. Then she pulled up her slacks and fastened them. Lastly, she tucked her tit back into her bra and then buttoned her blouse.

When she walked back to the office, Martin was sitting at his own desk and staring out the window.

"Um." She said timidly from the doorway, "I'm, um, sorry about that. I didn't mean for it to get so out of hand."

Martin nodded absently and turned toward her.

"No," he said with a faraway voice, ""It shouldn't get so, um, out of hand."

She nodded sheepishly and looked down at the floor.

"Am I, um, fired?"

He looked toward her and blinked a few times.

He wasn't sure how to answer her! Under normal circumstances, she would definitely have been fired. Masturbating in the workplace was a no-no almost everywhere. If he hadn't given her a helping hand, so to speak, she would be looking for another job. Now he wasn't sure if he should be fired!

"Um," he said distractedly, "See you Monday."

He stood up and wandered out of the office in a daze. He hardly remembered the drive home. Only that he got there.

When he did, Theresa remained on his mind the whole night.