Chapter 7
My work had been slipping during this period of heavy sexual activity in my life. I decided to focus in on my work and my time at the office. This decision brought me face to face with my boss, Mr. Murtagh.
I don't know how things would have worked out between Murtagh and me if I'd encountered him even a few weeks earlier. I'd been so uptight then, "such a heavy chick" as Joanie had called me.
Without realizing it, I'd gone through a lot of changes hi my personality. I'd become much more relaxed and able to be more loving and accepting of other people without asking them to change 'themselves for me. At the same time, I felt more free to say no to someone else if that was what I wanted, I no longer felt I had to play along sexually and do whatever they wanted me to do.
For example, take my relationship with Richard, the stud who picked me up at the office a few months ago. (I started this diary after we first had sex together.) I found myself speaking to him first when we passed each other in the office corridors. He ignored me at first, then he began speaking back to me. At first he was curt with me, then he seemed to enjoy seeing me and even went out of his way to seek me out a few times.
"I thought I'd hurt you a lot when I just walked out on you that time after we had sex together," he confided to me.
"You did," I told him. "Now I realize that was your way of being."
"Wow, I thought you'd never want anything to do with me again," he said.
Then he reached out and hugged me. We were in the little dead-end corner beyond the water cooler. No one was in the hall, but I was still nervous hugging someone in public. His hands ran over my back, then down to my ass. He grasped my ass firmly and squeezed. I'm usually bored at work, and being felt up there was nice for a change. His cock was hard and I felt my cunt beginning to tingle.
"That felt good, Richard, just that much," I said, stepping back from him. "I do like you, as a friend anyhow, but I'm not sure I want to have sex with you again. We've got quite different personalities and I like to suck and you like to fuck."
Richard looked at me and nodded. His eyes looked hurt.
"I feel rejected-by you. I've never made Mends with a woman before. Either I fuck a woman or I don't have anything to do with her."
"Miss Lang! May I see you please!" a gruff voice broke in. Richard and I both turned around. Mr. Murtagh was standing there a few feet from us.
Murtagh is a funny fellow, and hard for me to cope with. Sometimes he strikes me as a firm boss, other times as a mouse. He is short, stocky, pink-skinned, balding, and wears glasses. He always wears the same bland, grey suits and blue ties to work.
This time Murtagh was standing there with his hands on his hips in a firm, no-nonsense position. He seemed angry, but I wasn't sure.
I was just as glad to go along with him then. I was feeling awkward with Richard and guilty at being caught out in the hall that way. I felt like a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and at the same time as I resented being made to feel that way. I'd been working very hard at punching computer keys for the last few days, and I'd done more than my share of work, so I didn't like being told what to do.
"Will you come to my office, please, Miss Lang," said Murtagh. He turned and began walking away.
I looked back at Richard. He looked hurt still, as well as icy, intimidated, and angry. I wanted to do something loving to reach him, like pat him on the cheek, but I knew I wouldn't feel good with that afterwards.
"Do you want to talk again?" I asked him.
"I don't know. Maybe," he replied, looking up at the ceiling as he spoke.
I just walked away and left him there. I walked docilely down the corridor ten or twelve feet after Murtagh.
I wondered if Murtagh was jealous. Sometimes he looked at me as if he was begging for some affection from me, other times as if he wanted to fuck me, even rape me, right there in the office. But he could never come out with it, he never even flirted with me. All he did was praise me for my work, and act distant, like a boss, rather than a man with a cock between his legs that he wanted to use on me.
Sometimes I felt like a little girl with him, sometimes like a mother. I felt attracted to him and repelled at the same time, though I always warmed to him when he praised my work. He'd given me the impression before that he planned to give me a raise in advance of the usual increment schedule, and I liked that too.
He was seated in the big swivel chair behind the desk when I walked in. I took the small chair in front of his desk.
"Welcome, Miss Lang, Maybe you're wondering why I've called you here this morning. The reason is a quite personal one. Should you accept, I will give you suitable recompense for your services."
I wondered if he wanted me to whore for him. I was puzzled by the whole way he was coming on to me. His voice as mechanical, as if he was giving me a speech he'd memorized. And he wasn't referring to the scene he'd just witnessed out in the hall.
"My wife and I have seats for the symphony tonight, and a crisis has developed. Our "usual babysitter has taken ill, and Billy, our older boy, expects to be out. Six-year-old Johnny must be taken care of, and you are someone I'd be willing to trust him to. The hours would be seven to eleven, and you'd be in our cozy little house in Queens. I would pay you two dollars and fifty cents an hour plus carfare, which I assure you is far above the going rate hi Queens."
Thanks, you cheap bastard, I thought to myself. But I didn't want to risk losing my job and it would give me something to do for the night. I accepted.
I told Joanie about it 'that afternoon, and she seemed amused. "I bet the horny old bastard wants to get into your pants," she said. I was coming to like Joanie more and more. Though so far we'd been avoiding each other sexually since that night, the way we looked into each other's eyes showed me that we were still both very aware of it.
At ten minutes before seven that night I walked into a little box so orderly and prim that it made Penny and Pete's place look like a bohemian madhouse. Johnny was asleep, the Murtaghs informed me. They left quickly, and I stretched out on the sofa. I was tired and I felt my head grow light ...
The door slammed and I opened my eyes. A tall, slender, blonde god of a teenager was standing there, looking at me with a surprised expression on his face. He wore a white football jersey (#32) and bermuda shorts. His sleeves were rolled up and I admired his thin, muscular arms with the veins standing out.
"Man, you are an improvement over Miss Grundy!" he exclaimed. "That smelly old bag!" Then a shadow crossed over his face. "Whoops! You're not her daughter, are you?"
"No, I am not Miss Grundy's daughter. I am Lois Lang and I come from Manhattan. I don't know anyone around here."
When I said that last sentence I hoped that would make him feel more free with me, because I felt very free with him.
"Hi, Miss Lang. I'm Billy."
My skirt was way up to my thighs, exposing the ends of my stockings and some bare flesh. He was staring at my thighs. Under his eyes I pulled my skirt up a little further, then dropped my hand onto my thigh and began rubbing it.
Billy looked back into my eyes. His gaze was full of lust. I loved his transparency of emotion, the way he showed everything as soon as it came to him.
"Where have you been, Billy?"
"Football practice."
"You look all hot and sweaty."
"Yeah, I guess I'll take a shower."
God, was I hot for him. I was picturing him taking off his clothes right in front of me. My hand slid up to my undies and started rubbing my pussy right in front of his eyes.
"I'd like to help you take your shower, Billy."
He looked like he was taken aback at my frankness, but I could also tell that he was turned on to me, the bulge in his pants showed it.
He gave me a crooked grin and just stood there, frozen, looking at me.
"You think I'm a I'd, or what?"
"No, you're a very attractive man to me."
"I think you're cute, too, Miss Lang, but I feel shy with you. See, I ... I ... I'm a virgin!" he blurted out.
"Fm not so sure I want to have intercourse with you, either. Frankly, I'm into something else, but I think you'll like it if you give it a chance."
"What's that?"
"You'll see, o.k.? I want to surprise you."
"All right, I'll try it. So what do we do now?"
"You take a shower, and get all nice and clean for me, how's that? And I'll help you with it."
He sighed. "I'll try anything once."
He was bringing me down by being such a martyr about it, but since he agreed, I went along with it, hoping I could make him feel better when his cock was in my mouth.
"All right, Billy, where's the shower? I'd like to make it all nice for you."
"Upstairs. We have to be quiet, so we don't wake up Johnny."
He started walking upstairs. I took his hand and we climbed the steps together.
"In here."
The bathroom was middle-sized with enough room to turn around in.
"I'll start your shower for you," I said.
I turned on the water and tested it until I got it just right, quite warm but not too hot. Then I turned back to Billy.
"Now I suppose you'll tell me to reach for the sky," he said. His crooked grin was straighter this time.
"Sure. Reach for the sky, Billy."
He did. I took the bottom of his jersey and pulled it up. I got it up over his armpits and somewhere near his elbows.
"You're so tall, Billy, I can't reach any higher," I told him, giggling. His face was hidden in the white material. I collapsed onto his tanned, muscular chest and hugged him. I slid my fingers up over his ribs to his nipples and began touching them. They rose to my touch, and goose pimples came out around them.
"Hey, that tickles," he protested, laughing. He brought his arms down around my back and hugged me to him.
We stayed that way a minute, just grooving on each other. He was hard, and I wriggled my cunt softly up against his cock.
"Ummm, that's nice," he said and pulled away. "Time for my shower."
He pulled his jersey off. "You may not like what you're about to see," he warned me. Then he unbuttoned his shorts and slid them down. His cock leapt out, standing at full attention.
"Looks real good to me," I told him. I reached out and' touched the pink head. It quivered under my touch.
"I'm glad you like me," he said. "Rosemary, my girl, got scared one time when she saw me naked. She said my cock was too big and it scared her."
"I'm not scared, I like it. I want to kiss you there after you finish your shower."
"Oh yeah?" His eyes brightened. "That sounds good. Some of my friends have had it done to them, and they said it was real nice."
He stepped into the shower. His body was so beautiful, so Jean and hard and tan and erect, that I wanted to cry, or walk into the shower with him and hold him.
I took the soap and lathered it up. I washed his chest, his back, his cock, and his ass. Then he came out and dried himself off. He seemed more independent and less scared than he had been downstairs when I first approached him.
He smiled at me. "I want my blow job now."
"Great! You're the best looking hunk of man I've seen around in all my life, do you know that?"
He blushed. "Really? Come on, let's go downstairs so we don't wake up Johnny."
He started out the bathroom door naked, and I followed him. He sat down on the sofa and I fell into his arms and hugged him. I reached down and began masturbating his cock.
"Hey! I want to be blown!"
He pushed my head down to his cock. I was thrilled at his aggression. I opened my mouth and took him in.
"Oh, Miss Lang," he moaned. "I wish you were my teacher in school."
I felt funny, being called that, but I liked it too. I felt old 'being dressed while he was naked, too. I felt I was big, like a mother, and that he was small, even though he was about a foot taller than me. I felt like he was my object to do whatever I felt like with, and that he'd treat me that way, too.
I ran my tongue around the head of his cock. His pubic hair was all light and clean and with a slight smell of soap, and so were the long, isolated hairs sticking out from his balls. I ran my fingers through the hairs over his cock and played with it. I kissed his cock all over, going right up to the base and burying my nose in his lovely blonde hair there. I went down around the edge of his balls and into his crotch and licked there thoroughly. He was squirming delightedly and clutching my hair and the back of my neck.
I gave his asshole a few tentative licks. It was clean and fun to taste, with hardly any hair in it.
He'd started pumping his hips up and down now. And his fine young cock—my virgin piece of meat-was standing up so proud and erect! It was big too, must have been seven and one half inches long, I'd estimate.
I put my lips over his meat and raised and lowered my head with his movements. He slowed them into a slight pulsation.
"Miss Lang, my cock feels so good in your mouth," he said. "Why don't you move in here and we could do this all the time."
"I'd like ... "
He'd just shot into my mouth. Sticky come filled my mouth everywhere. He shot so hard that the jism squirted almost painfully into the membranes of the back of my throat. I love 'em young, but they come too soon. I'd just started getting excited, too, and now I felt cut off. I knew it wasn't his fault, but now I was hot and the hard tool was beginning to shrink in my mouth.
He pulled out of my mouth and scrunched up in a corner of the sofa. I wondered if a bad scene was coming. It came, and from a completely unexpected direction.
The door jerked open and in strode Murtagh.
"My God, what's happening here?" he shrieked in a high, falsetto voice.
He stood there like a prissy schoolmarm. "I've never seen anything so disgraceful in all my life!" he declared.
"Hello, Dad," Billy said in a deep, glum voice.
"Go to your room right now, William."
Billy got up and left the room. I guess he was glad to be away from me, too.
I was feeing hot and bitchy. With the old man home, I couldn't even jerk myself off. He'd made what had been a pleasant experience look like something bad. I resented him for that, and I was afraid of the psychological damage he might do to Billy.
"What happened to the old bag. Did you tuck her away somewhere, or what?"
"Lois!" he exclaimed. He took off his glasses and peered at me with his weird, blind, blinky little eyes. Had his anger changed to some kind of sickening pity? I wondered if he'd fire me now. I didn't, care at that moment.
"I don't know how you could have done this to me, and to my poor son. His life will never be the same."
"Bullshit, Hurtle turtle. Pull your head out of your shell for a minute. Can you honestly tell me you've never wanted to have your own sheltered little cock blown? Can you? Huh?"
"Yes, I have. But I don't go around Doing it!"
"You hypocritical fuck!" I exploded. "It's people like you who go around shaming other people—and their own children—about their sexuality, and keep this country a puritanical den of hatred!"
I calmed down. Whenever I get into a long political anger rap like that, I mistrust myself. I realized I was still hot, and that I was taking out my frustration on this repressed older man.
I stood up and took off my skirt and underpants, then lay down on the couch again with them over my knees and cunt "I realize now I was just blaming you for what I wanted to do and wasn't myself, Mr. Murtagh. What's your first name, anyway?"
"Bill," he said, watching me with a bug-eyed expression on his face. He put his glasses back on and stared at me openly.
My hand groped through my hairy pussy until I found my hot swollen clit. My clit was so hard it was just about pushing its way out of my clit like a hard cock. I took my clit between my two fingers and shook it back and forth.
My head was back resting on my other arm on the arm of the sofa, and my knees were bent to give me lots of room to get at my hot pussy. My body felt quite open. I fell into my own free-swinging, jerk-off routine that I'd never done before another human being.
I began a rapid, light, circular motion with my fingers around my tender clit, using just enough pressure to keep it well stimulated.
I heard Murtagh sputtering ineffectually. I dropped the skirt from my legs and looked at him openly and brazenly through my legs. He stared at my fingers moving across my twat. Was he made of stone?
No! He got up and moved toward me. He hovered over me.
"Aren't you ashamed, Lois?" he asked in a new, low voice.
"No, I love it!"
"If you're not ashamed, why should I be?"
He sat down next to me and put his hand on my upraised knee. He was looking at my twat like he was being drawn into it.
"Want to try it?" I asked him.
"Yes!" I wondered if that was the first real yes he had said in his life.
He slid his meaty hand down my thigh and closed it over my pussy. He started rubbing my slit heavily. When he hit my clit by accident on some of his motions, I winced, he hurt.
I reached over and felt his cock through his pants. Yes, it was hard. I opened his fly and touched his cock, as soon as I could locate it under his sagging belly. It was tiny but rock hard and dripping with pre-fuck juices.
"Lois!" He looked at me- with frightened eyes. "You • won't tell anyone back at the organization about what I'm doing, will you?"
"I really don't know whether I will or not," I answered truthfully, "but you might as well enjoy it while you've got it, Murty-poo. Wouldn't it be terrible if there was a big scandal and you had to resign—for something you didn't do?"
"You're right, Lois. What did you do with Billy? That's what got me hard, thinking about what you must have done with him."
"I gave him a blow job," I replied in a gasp. I was starting to really get into jerking off.
I started jerking off Murtagh with my other hand, with my hand curled up around his shaft while I went up and down. He seemed to like it but his pelvis remained rigid. Then I got bored with it.
"Murtagh, I want to eat you. Let me suck your cock, will you? Put it in my mouth!"
He kept looking at me with his fishy-eyed stare, as if he was full of emotions that couldn't get out.
Then he got up heavily and kneeled on the sofa with his pudgy little cock a few niches from my mouth. I turned my head over to the side nearest him and opened my mouth, running my tongue around my lips.
His cock, trembling, pulsating, moved slowly up to my lips and slid in. Ah, it was so nice to feel it between my lips. Particularly at that time—I began pumping my clit harder. I brought my knees over and cuddled up against Murtagh's body.
His stubby dong pumped in my mouth, too, we were climbing together. I was having an intimate sexual experience with this unhappy repressed, externally unattractive old man. In some uncanny way, we were closer than most of the people I'd had sex with before. His rhythm matched mine perfectly. I reached out and wrapped my arm around his waist and drew him closer to me.
"That's it, Murty, fuck me! Fuck me in the mouth, go ahead, harder, do it, Do It!"
My pelvis was starting to go wild, completely out of control. I get real hot-masturbating. I'm freer than with another person sometimes, and this way I had both! I was climbing, climbing ...
His cock speeded up. He wrapped his hands around my head and pulled me to him so that Hs cock went way to the back of my throat.
I gagged, and my throat and gullet began quivering all over the place.
"Lois, your mouth] I'm coming!"
I reached higher. My hips came up and my thighs went around the smooth skin of his cheeks and bald pate. My finger got frantic.
He stopped pumping. A second of his stillness passed, then he came, in acrid, bitter spurts.
"Gaggggh!" I yelled and gurgled. My body clenched. The only motion was his come giving weak little spurts and dribbles into my mouth.
Then my contractions came, I joined Murty, my hips pressed into his white shirt and tie. I slumped onto him to feel the contractions sweep through my body without having to struggle to hold myself up.
My contractions got weaker and I let myself collapse further onto him.
He moved his arms from my head, where I'd been sucking him, and finally reached out to me. He ran his hands up and down my legs softly, over my thighs and side, and up under the blouse I still wore to my tits.
"You're nice, Lois. I liked that." He bent over and kissed me fully on the lips, with a tenderness and directness I'd never experienced from him before.
"Shit," he said, patting me on the fanny. "We've got to get up now, I have to pick up the woman you referred to as an old bag."
He got up, and I did slowly, too. I reached for my panties and put them on.
"She was never like this with me," he continued. I wasn't so sure I wanted to hear this sad tale of his, but it seemed to be coming out now. "She never lets herself explore this way. We just do a quick fuck after we put out the lights ... "
His voice trailed off. I let it go.
I got my skirt on and watched him get his pants zipped up.
"You've got spots of come all over your pants, Bill," I told him laughing. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed away at them.
Behind him I saw Billy, dressed now, peering out from the kitchen. I winked, and he returned it with a great grin.
I turned to his father and said in a louder voice than usual, "You know, Murty, if I had anything to say to Billy now, it would be 'do as your father does, not as he says'."
"That's a good one, Lois. If I get up the nerve, I'll tell him that."
We both chuckled together. Then a loud laugh came from the kitchen.
Billy walked in. "You know, Dad, I've got to tell you, I was watching the whole time."
Murtagh wilted. Then he sputtered. I put my arm around his shoulders and he looked into my eyes and made contact.
He turned back to Billy: "O.K., son. You caught me. I guess I have been a hypocrite with you." His eyes were hard, but his voice was soft ...
"See you later, son. I've got to pick up your mother now, and drop off your babysitter."
Murtagh held out his hand to Billy and Billy took it. They smiled together.
Then Murtagh put his arm around my waist.
"Let's go, Lois."