Haziran 13, 2020

Strawberry Blonde

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Strawberry Blonde
Names changed? Yes, because I respect the woman that I am writing about. Is the incident true? Yes, it happened just exactly as I will describe. Were there any actions by her or me as a result? NO. If you like what you read, give it a thumbs up, it is what encourages me to write. Don’t like what I write? Why not comment what you didn’t like if you want to hit the thumbs down?

How many times do we wish we had a digital camera attached to our eyes to capture that glimpse of a sight that we want to return to, a sight that results in lust and fantasies that go on for years? Well this picture speaks volumes of a memory that was burned into my brain over 25 years ago. Since I don’t have that digital camera in my eyes, nor were cell phone cameras a thing at that time, I searched XH for hours looking for a picture that would represent what I am about to relate.

So don’t look at the picture and think, “Ahhh, Larry is showing us this hottie and now we can go look for her.” And don’t look at the picture and remark, “well he said she had tiny tits and this woman doesn’t, and he said she was wearing a bra and this one isn’t.” As I said, this is the closet image I have ever found that reminds me of this incident and also remember, this was 25 years ago so by now she is in her 50’s.

First I need to tell you a bit about Sharon to give you enough background to follow along. Sharon was, at the time, 31, I knew this because I was her district manager and she worked in my office. She was the mother of 3 but looked like she had the body of a 19 year old. To say she was cute didn’t do her justice, but she was, and still remains so damn cute. To describe her as beautiful seems not right either. When you say, “that woman is beautiful” many think of the glamorous movie stars or fashion models. Sharon was not beautiful in that way.

She was this type of woman that wore very little make-up, her natural beauty was enough to güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri draw stares when sales representatives came into the office. She was the first to greet them and on many cases these lewd and crude sales guys, 30 years her senior, made fools of themselves as they flirted with her. And perhaps the basis of her beauty was a smile that was so infectious, it just made you want to smile back.

Sharon was my office manager, her skills on the computer and ten-key calculator were second to none. In fact in my 30 years in that business I had seen none better. She was polite, openly friendly but never flirtatious with the sales guys and most important, NO DRAMA. She had drama in her life, a husband that divorced her to run off with a woman from his job and a second husband that loved playing the stock market and running them into debt. But she left it outside of the workplace and I admired her for that.

She dressed to a standard that she set, that is never bare legs, always hose, and never pants. Her skirts and dresses were above the knee but never shorter, legs always crossed to protect her modesty, and never high heels, but generally a low heal of flats. Now all you guys are thinking, BORING. Well not for “Ole Larry,” she was the model of professionalism yet so damn cute that I had to avoid being around her much or my fantasies went into high gear.

My phone beeped, “Larry can you come out front, I have this invoice that doesn’t make sense,” Sharon said and without waiting hung up. She knew I would tend to her request as she handled all the incoming invoices setting them up for payment and I hated loosing the cash discount. So when she had an issue I jumped to solve the problem.

I had not seen Sharon this morning, I arrived early and got busy in my office. She had said good morning passing my door, but as was her habit it was a quick run for coffee and back to her desk, perabet I hadn’t looked up. It was late spring, warm outdoors, and as I approached her desk I noticed the pretty sun dress that she often wore, and I loved her in it. It had wide straps and a square neckline and the sunny yellow color blended well with her skin tone.

Her hair, shoulder length, hung in its naturally curly state and caressed her bare shoulders and as I approached I saw she was on the phone. She held up one forefinger, her single to give her a minute and as I passed by her desk she leaned back a bit and her dressed gapped open in the back. I could see her bra strap and down to the lacey top of her pantyhose.

She was so slender her spine showed the bones through the pale skin of her back. I dared not stare, a gentleman simply doesn’t do that, but the image in my brain was like a billboard with the image of her naked back. Her bra strap was narrow, probably only one, maybe two hooks, which made sense as she was very under endowed, which in no was diminished her appearance.

I passed by, stopped at the mail bins to pick out my morning mail and I heard her finish on the phone. I stepped back to her desk and as she bent over her keyboard to deposit the phone back in its place the front of her dress gapped open further than the back. Looking down in that instant I saw the lacey cups of her bra that was also gapping open and her erect nipple screamed at me to “take a picture it lasts longer,” the old cliché we used so many times in my life.

Her bra was a fiber fill, what we used to think of as lightly padded, long before anyone thought of the push up bra. I could see the thickness of the padding, pure white and her nipple barely touched the fabric. When Sharon would laugh or get embarrassed her blush would turn her cheeks crimson red, and in that instant I saw her nipples just as red.

If I had to guess she was less than an A cup, perabet giriş probably not more than a 28A, and with the padding nearly and A cup, and like so many bras there was a tiny little bow between the cups that really gets me turned on. But what I saw was a perky little breast with a nipple that would drive a man wild. It was so bright red and probably the size of a pencil eraser. My cock hardened, I sat down in a chair facing her and made sure I made eye contact and nothing else. I was a good corporate manager, well trained in HR classes in safe working places and sexual harassment. Besides, a gentleman doesn’t stare.

There were probably four or five times that this happened, once in a white button style blouse, the fabric had a satin finish and the light seemed to pass through it. Every event was the same, not more than 2 or 3 seconds, yet I remember each time as if it was yesterday. So no, the picture attached to this is not Sharon, but the theme is the same, a peek down a woman’s blouse that burns an image on my brain. It is a good thing that the HR director doesn’t have a brain scan machine as we pass into his classes, mine would get me fired.

And in closing I will answer this question. Did I jerk off thinking of these images, “yes very often after each event and many times in the past 25 years.” And I will expand on the subject by saying there were many fantasies of her and I getting together, but each one of them got more and more erotic over time until Sharon has morphed into many of the characters I have written about. I love a small perky breasted woman, hell I love all woman in whatever shape, but because I actually saw hers up close I think my preference developed in her direction.

Will there be another chapter? Nope, this is the one time in my 70 years that I have written on the topic and I will leave the images burned in my brain forever, you can develop your own fantasies based on this inspiration if you wish, Sharon and I would be honored. Well I would, Sharon is now a MILF and I shouldn’t speak for her and men’s sexual fantasies about her. When I saw her a few years ago she has aged in the face, but the body and hair color remain the same as do the images in my mind.

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