An afternoon’s delight

It is hard to imagine this happening today, but it was 1979 and sexual harassment was not an issue. In any case, we were young and the harassment was mutual. Sure, as assistant manager I was more or less her boss, but an assistant manager in a fast food store is not really far removed from the troops. She was a new employee, hired as a hostess, but really she was just a cashier. She was a recent high school graduate who came up from Kentucky to work in southern Ohio. I think she was following a boyfriend.

She was pretty and knew it. She was also a big flirt and knew she could play with men for attention. We had lots of time for flirting, since outside of the rush periods, the store was pretty quiet. 

I was not usually interested in girls like her – didn’t think she’d give me the time of day. And then after sex, what we would do? She certainly didn’t talk about anything I was interested in. Still, she was pretty, in a cute and all-American way.

It was a week before Halloween and she told me about a Halloween party she was planning to attend. She asked my what I thought of her idea for a costume. She would use her boyfriends shoulder pads and helmet and dress up as a football player.

Naturally, I told her she’d look pretty, and we started to talk about making her look more like an athlete and like a man. We talked about how a man has a thicker waste, so she ought to wear something around her waist to lessen how her hips flared out – her hips and ass flared out wonderfully from her narrow waist. Really, I didn’t care about the costume, but just thinking about her waist had me aroused, and so my penis was taking over. She flirtatiously asked me to explain exactly what I meant, so I walked up to her and put my hands around her at the waist – I couldn’t wrap my hands completely around, but was able to reach most of the way. Then I showed her how different it was with my waist. She took the bait and put her hands around my me; of course her smaller hands reached even less far, but she was enjoying the contact. I guessed that she was a bit aroused too. At least she wasn’t turned off.

I moved down from her narrow waist to her much wider hips. I felt her up, really, I started at her side, but slowly moved my hands around to her backside. I commented about how shapely and soft her buttocks were. She copied me, moving her hands up and down my flatter behind. I grabbed her hand and placed it on her ass and moved my hand around with hers as we felt he soft shape. I was beginning to breath more heavily, and her speaking voice had the unmistakable catch of arousal. I then took one more risk. I moved one of my hands to her front, starting at the waistline and slowly traced the swell of her belly and moved down from there, ever so slowly. She still didn’t stop me. 

When my fingers were at her pubic mound, I stopped and moved my hand away, I asked her to compare the difference between her front and mine. I pointed out that if she really wanted to be convincing, she should place a small bulge in her crotch. She moved one of her hands around to my front, and let her fingers walks from my belt to where my penis was bulging out in my pants. She traced the head of my penis. She said she didn’t think she would try to make a bulge that big. 

I grabbed a cloth towel from my desk – we always had them around for cleaning up, and rolled it into a tight tube like form. Then I took it and pulled down the front of her pants, and placed the rolled cloth in front where a penis would be. She placed her hand on mine and we both rubbed back and forth against her pussy. Then I moved my hand away from hers, and placed in inside her panties, I used my fingers to rub up and down the front of her now very wet cunt. I said she should put something right there if she wanted to look real. She moved her hand to my pants, opened my zipper and grabbed my leaky dick. She started to rub up and down, god it was wonderful. 

We stayed this way, me masturbating her, and she doing me. It was dreamy, and neither of us could speak any more. She started to shudder and shakes, and my hand became even more soaked. With her finders, she played with the very sensitive helmet and suddenly, I was spurting.

And that was that. 

We buttoned ourselves up, and washed our hands, after all, we were serving food. And then we returned to our normal routines. 

We never did anything like that again, though we continued to flirt. A week later, I asked how her party had gone. She said it went fine. I asked if she did any of what we talked about to make herself look more like a man. She said no. I told her that even so, I’m sure it was a great costume.