I’m not really sure when my first real time was!
It was more of an occurrence; I was s old. Living with my Mom
and younger brother, I never really knew my Dad. We were always having to
make do; because money was always very tight, this meant I was quite a
Plain Jane at school. Always forced to dress in the most inexpensive, bargain
Basement cloths my Mom could afford.
I’d become the brunt of jokes at school and never really had any friends.
I tried to get a part time job myself, but my awkward appearance and lack
of self confidence conspired against me and I seemed trapped in a black
and white world.
One Saturday in a fit of despair I discovered the art of shop lifting, at first
I’d take an odd item now and again, then take them home. I’d never wear
them just take them home and hide them, taking them out at night to just
stare at. When my Mom found them, I lied and told her I’d found a little job.
This opened the floodgates and I spent all my free time snatching goods
from the stores. I was brazen and professional, soon becoming a little
blasé.
This was my downfall; one of my frequent haunts, a large outlet
store in the Mall, which sold mainly denim goods. I’d become such a
regular the shop staff had begun to recognize me. The manager who
was somewhat suspicious and had begun to monitor my actions.
With my casual attitude it wasn’t very soon before he caught me,
red handed. Attempting to remove an expensive overall from the store.
He grasped me roughly by the arm and ushered me into the back
office. I was mortified, it had never really occurred to me I could be
caught. This instantly relieved me of the small amount of confidence
which my shoplifting had afforded.
My mind became blank; my body was consumed in a cold clammy sweat.
I hadn’t heard a word the manager had said as he lectured me across the
large wooden desk, I’m not really sure how I even got there.
I only became aware of what he was saying, when I heard him say
“Now although this is a serious offence; I’ve an idea we can come to
some sort of arrangement, that would possibly benefit the both of us.”
I stared across the table; now noticing him for the first time, he was
a tubby man between about 35 and 45, his unkempt physique made it
difficult to tell. He was balding badly, teasing a few strands of hair
greasily to his skull in a spiral towards the center, and was clothed in
an ill fitting greeny-brown suit, which showed signs of extensive wear.
He’d now left his seat and paced about in front of me, his
short stubby legs disappearing into a pair of black plastic slip on
shoes, these were torn and misshapen, a result of his twisted over step.
His pacing soon brought him very close, and he reduced his tones
to practically a whisper. Almost speaking into my ear as he made
his proposal.
“Where?” I gasped as I realized he was propositioning me. “Well
here is as good a place as any” he suggested. His speech had now returned
to normal and he was again seated behind his desk.
“How?” I questioned glancing around the room.
“A matter of acting out the proverbial secretary and sitting on
the bosses’ lap” he smirked.
With out waiting for a response he began to loosen his belt and
trousers. “Come, it won’t be much of a stretch for you, drop your
panties, hike up you skirt and we’ll be finished in no time. Oh!
I must insist on the underwear as a souvenir” he chuckled.
As he wriggled on his seat his trousers, followed by a large set
of white Y fronts dropped around his ankles. “Come on shake
a leg, drop the panties in here” he gloated opening a
small drawer in the desk.
I stood and gathered up my skirt in a dazed, searching
for the lace trim at the top of my underwear. I kicked off my
sandals and steadied myself on his desk as I stepped out of the
small pink panties, I held them in the air above the open drawer
for several s before dropping them in among the other
office supplies in the desk. Their appearance was foreign and
repugnant.
“Oh that’s a girl, come, come over here; I’ll show you” he
panted, now quite visibly exited. Jerkily, pushing back the chair
arm rests.
With absolutely no experience of sex, I didn’t know what
to expect next as I slowly moved forward towards him.
Then as I came within reach, he suddenly lunged forward. Grabbing,
spinning me around and bending me slightly at the waist. He grappled
with the fabric of my skirt, tucking it into my waistband. Cupping my buttocks,
he rubbed his palms around in a circular motion, then grasped
them tightly and pulled them apart. Plunging his face between,
searching me out with his tongue. He made loud slurping
noises which seemed to last several minutes, and as he pulled his face
away the rush of cool air on the wet flesh send a chill though the
whole of my body.
I nearly lost my balance as he wrenched me back onto his knee,
my saliva soaked buttocks slide around on his little fat thighs.
He puffed and panted; wriggling and shuffling but he didn’t seem to be
able to make any head way, his pendulous abdomen and chubby thighs
combined with his stubby penis denied him access.
His breathing had now become shallow urgent pants, reducing his
speech to single gasped words.
“Floor, floor, floor he stuttered, pushing me off and half rolling out
of the chair, coming to rest on the flat of his back behind the desk and
at a slight angle to the wall.
” Quick sit, sit!” he demanded, he was becoming rough and verbally
abusive. “Wrap that little cunt around my throbbing ram rod”
His quavering voice gasped.
Truth be known it looked like a small egg nestled in a mass of
black hair. With its head barley braking the surface of his own expanded
outline; I couldn’t really see it penetrating anything.
He caught my hand and pulled me down onto his lap, his pelvis
rocked gently back and forth as he concentrated all his efforts into
failed thrusts. “Grind me into your snatch, fuck me, fuck me good”
he wailed.
As my weight dissipated some of his bulk. I could feel a slight
movement between my thighs. It was at this point that the door to
the office swung wide open and one of the female shop assistants walked
through. She was small girl not much older than I, frail build, with heavy black
glasses. She walked half way across the floor before noticed what was going
on. Then after a double take, she brought her hand up to her mouth in an attempt
to camouflage the snigger; stared over the top of her glasses at the spectacle for a
while, turned quickly on her heels and scampering out.
I merely gazed back at her, feeling more like an observer to the situation
myself. The little fat manager failed to notice the visitor; he was at that time
in the throws of ecstasy, grunting like a wounded animal.
I suddenly became aware of a pressure between my
thighs, it became a warm wet and sticky mass. The little fat manager slumped
back on the floor, gurgling in a fit of exhaustion.
I raised myself to my feet my muscles were cramped my legs shaky from
my awkward squat. I slipped on my sandals and hurriedly left, before
he had time to recover; his semen trickled down my left leg coming to rest
under the arch of my foot causing my sandal to squelch everytime I took a step.
This attracted my attention as I waltzed through the store, sparing me
the realization I was the focus of everyone’s attention.
My career in crime was over, and although I participated in a sexual
act I think my lack of participation coupled with the fact he never actually
made contact with my genitals makes this first time questionable.
Oh my old daughter dragged me into that very store not
too long ago, and the short fat man still hovers the perimeter. That
was probably the high light of his career.
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