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At Work

I'd been in the back watching Kathy for the entire shift. OK, I watch all the girls, except for Marie. (Marie is a little on the large size.) But basically, I'd been watching Kathy. I'd been watching her for a few days now.

The uniforms that the girls wear are a little on the short side, skirt wise. It seemed to me that Kathy's skirt seemed to have suddenly shrunk an inch or two. I've actually seen my sisters do this trick. They'd leave the house wearing respectable skirts that our mother approved of and then, once out of her sight, those skirts would shrink. They'd roll up the waist band a couple of times, hiding the extra material behind their belts. Kathy, I was quite sure, was doing the same thing.

Not that I was complaining. It meant that I could see the flash of her bottom whenever she needed to bend down, or even if she was just standing and leaning on the counter. You'll note that I said bottom, not panties. It seemed she'd taken to wearing some sort of thong panties that left the cheeks of her bottom basically bare.

Kathy was also getting very flirtatious with the customers; with the male customers, anyway. I'd seen several women give her disapproving looks. I'd yet to see one of the men do the same.

It seemed to me that Kathy's hormones had kicked up a notch. She had, in my opinion, decided that the time had come to get laid, and she was sizing up all the men she met with this idea in the back of her mind. Not that there was anything wrong with that. She was eighteen and could bed anyone she chose to. Actually, seeing her in full cry, it seemed to me that the sooner she got bedded, the better.

Now at the place where we were currently working, when knock off time came the girls would promptly go home, bar one. One girl would stay behind to do the general cleaning up in the service area. At the same time, I'd be doing some cleaning up in the kitchen area. Tonight I noticed that it was Kathy's turn.

Knock off time came rolling around. I flicked off the external lights and the girls departed, letting the door lock behind them as they went. I headed back to the kitchen. I glanced around, making sure that I had managed to get everything cleaned up. Satisfied I turned to check on Kathy.

When it was Kathy's turn to clear up she had this little habit of relaxing against the counter, flopping forward over it as if exhausted, hoping someone else (me) would help tidy up. It didn't ever work, but she'd do it anyway. There she was, leaning over the counter, skirt riding high, bottom shining in the light. I moved up behind her.

I already had all my moves planned out, her high-riding skirt and thong panties just helping me out. She didn't hear me coming. The first inkling she had that I was there was when my finger hooked around the crotch of her panties and moved them to the side, leaving her mound fully exposed.

She didn't even have time to react before I was parting her lips and pushing my erection into place. Her lips closed nicely around my cock even while the first reaction was taking place.

She screamed with surprise. I ignored that and pushed a little, and now I was finding out that she was indeed a virgin. Then there was a second scream as she found herself an ex-virgin, or well on the way to being one.

I held still at that stage, wanting her vagina to get used to what had happened and what was about to happen. When she seemed about to let go with a third scream I interrupted it. I gave her pretty white bottom a hard slap.

"Will you stop that silly screaming?" I snapped at her.

She seemed to find it rather hard to express her feelings. She spluttered and stuttered and finally managed to get a sentence out. Not exactly a coherent sentence, but I got the gist. It went something like this.

"You, AH, what, stop, AH, hurts, take it out!"

From that I gathered she would prefer it if I didn't continue.

"Listen, Kathy," I said, speaking quietly and soothingly, "I've already started so I might as well finish. The painful bit is over now that I've popped you. You'll find the rest isn't nearly so bad. Give it a minute or two and you'll find yourself adjusting to what is happening and then we can get on with it."

As well as holding my cock steady within her, I was also rubbing her mound, keeping myself informed as to how she was progressing. I could already feel moisture forming inside her (assuming it wasn't all blood from her little popping of the cherry). Accordingly, I gave another little push.

She was indeed moist. Wet, even. When I pushed I could feel her tight little passage yielding, letting my cock slide a little deeper along what was now a slippery slope.

For some reason Kathy was being a trifle unreasonable. She didn't want to just relax and see what happened. She told me so in no uncertain terms.

"I understand," I said, with another gentle push, "but look at it from my point of view. It would be just plain wrong to pull out now, leaving you wondering what it would have been like. It has stopped hurting, now hasn't it?"

After that I ignored anything she might have to say while I concentrated on moving fully into position. I gave a small relieved sigh when my groin was firmly pressed against her mound.

"There, you see. That wasn't too bad, now was it? I'll stay like this while you get accustomed to me being in you."

There were a few more protests but they were more pro forma than real protests. She hadn't said yes so she just felt that she had to make a protest. I just held steady inside her, feeling her give a few cautious movements as she got herself into a slightly more comfortable a position.

When I thought she'd settled down I slowly pulled back, listening to the catch of her breath as I moved. She let out a squeaky gasp as I drove back into her. I held myself in her again for a moment, then started the same slow withdrawal. Thrusting back in I got the same squeak in reply but that was all.

"Listen, Kathy, if you don't put some effort into this we'll be here all night. Now, while I don't mind, I'd have thought that you had other things to do."

"What? I'm being raped," she exclaimed. "What am I supposed to do but lie here and suffer?"

"I can feel your pussy clinging to me," I pointed out. "Suffering is one thing you're not doing. Unfortunately, moving is another. When I push in I'll thank you to push back to meet me."

"Oh, really? And what will you do if I don't? Rape me?"

I gave her another friendly swat on the bottom.

"I can always beat the cadence for you, if you insist."

I pulled slowly back.

"Now push," I said encouragingly, driving back in nice and slow so she could get the hang of it.

She hesitated, but then pushed back against me, taking me deep with her.

"Good girl," I murmured, "and again."

Another long slow thrust and she met it smoothly.

"OK, let's just keep doing that for a little while."

She felt fine, her warm velvet wrapped around me, pleasuring me as I drove into her. For a while I maintained that nice slow pace, letting her get used to the feelings that were starting to surge through her. Listening, I could hear her breathing rate increase, not panting or gasping for air, but certainly breathing more heavily.

Gradually I picked up the pace. I don't think Kathy really noticed the difference. She was lifting her hips, pushing to take me into her, her attention on what was happening inside her, not on how it was being achieved. Fairly soon I was giving her a proper workout, listening to her mouthing involuntary little love cries as I drove in, time after time.

It's good to have a cooperative and appreciative partner. Kathy seemed determined to stay with me, no matter how hard I went in, her excitement plain. I pushed at that excitement, inciting her to greater heights, driving her towards a climax. A good climax and all is forgiven.

Eventually, it was every man for himself. I was going to come and come hard, and there was no slowing down. (I could have slowed down and let things settle for a while but I didn't think that it would be appreciated. Kathy was already too far gone by my reckoning.)

I pushed ahead with my end game, giving my all to the cause, being rewarded by climaxing, blowing my load deep inside her. She seemed to be a natural born screamer, having her own climax and shrieking her excitement.

Afterwards she sagged against the counter, breathing heavily. Reluctantly I got busy and started cleaning up the front area. I couldn't go until Kathy was finished, and the way she was leaning on that counter I don't think she was going to be up to cleaning up for a while yet. That left me.

Would you believe she didn't even have the courtesy of thanking me for cleaning up? She just seemed to accept it as her due.

The next day there was a slight difference to Kathy's behaviour. Her skirt seemed to have grown back those missing few inches and when I did happen to spot her panties, while she was picking some things up off the floor, I noticed that she wasn't wearing a thong anymore. She was also a little different with the customers, still flirting, but not with the same intensity.

Her behaviour didn't stay that way. After a few days her hemline crept up again and the thong reappeared. (Or it was more of a case that her panties were no longer on show when she leant forward. I was assuming the thong.) Checking the roster I noticed that it was her turn to clear up. Interesting.

Come closing time it was the same as usual, with one tiny difference. I switched off the lights, the girls trooped out, and Kathy slumped against the counter. That's when the difference became noticeable.

Kathy hastily stood back up straight, hands on the back of her skirt, holding it down. She also turned to see if I was sneaking up from behind. I wasn't. I was leaning against a wall, looking at her. (I would have considered it far too tacky to pull the same stunt twice.)

"Take them off," I told her, speaking softly.

"What do you mean, take them off?" she demanded. "I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," I insisted. "Now take them off."

She knew all right. She pressed her hands against her skirt, holding it firmly down.

"I'll do no such thing," she told me. "If I was stupid enough to do that you'd attack me again. No fucking way am I giving you the chance."

"Kathy, we both know that you shortened your skirt and switched back to wearing a thong because you would be on clean up. You knew exactly what would happen when you did so. You were throwing down the gauntlet. That's OK. I'm picking it up. Let me explain.

You are going to take off your thong. After that, you're going to tuck your skirt up into your waist, leaving you bare from the waist down. You'll lean back against the counter, legs nicely parted, and you'll be able to look down and see your own pussy.

You will also be able to see my cock approaching and be able to watch it as it sinks into you. Now are you going to discuss it for the next half hour or set the ball rolling?"

"I won't," she snapped, "and you can't make me."

"I could but I won't," I said. "I'm going to take you with your full cooperation. No namby-pamby 'Oh no, he's raping me again'. Now, take them off."

She gave me a killing look. She also slowly reached up her skirt and rolled down her thong, letting it drop to the floor and stepping out of it. Still giving me that killer look, she slowly lifted her skirt, tucking it up out the way.

I rewarded her by letting her see how much I appreciated the view. I also unzipped, bringing my erection out, ready to play. Her eyes widened a bit when she saw it. She hadn't actually seen it the previous time, just felt it. I moved over until I was right in front of her, my erection just lightly brushing against her.

Standing there, I started undoing the buttons on her blouse. She stayed still, watching, not saying anything and not trying to stop me. She seemed to be scarcely breathing. I pulled her blouse open, revealing a nice bra. I didn't bother undoing it. I just dragged it up over her breasts, letting it scrape across them, laughing when they both popped out.

I took hold of my prize, cupping them in my hands and then bending down to taste. My mouth slid over each breast in turn, letting her feel my tongue, my teeth grazing against her nipples. I suckled briefly on each breast before lifting my head.

"You know, you're quite at liberty to touch me," I pointed out.

I took her hand and moved it down next to my erection, not forcing contact, just giving the opportunity for contact to be made. She hesitated, a hesitation so brief that you'd have needed a stopwatch to time it, and then her hand was holding me. She took hold of my erection at the base and slowly started moving her hand along it, finally wrapping her hand around the head. Then she reversed direction. She wasn't massaging me, just getting a feel for what I would be giving her. I let her play while I teased her breasts some more.

After a while my hand wandered down and started stroking her love mound. I started by rubbing her mons firmly, my hand moving slowly under her, rubbing against her labia. I massaged her for a while, listening to her breathing, trying to determine just how aroused she was. Fingers slipping between her lips showed her to be hot and wet, and she was making odd little sounds while she squirmed restlessly against my intrusive fingers.

A new note crept into her tone. She wanted me, but didn't know how to say so. I saved her the trouble. I pried my cock out of her greedy grasp, putting a little distance between us. Looking down she could see my cock being eased towards her slit and she held her breath, waiting for that first touch.

I just rubbed my cock against her, feeling her labia pushing against me, grasping for me. A gentle push and my erection was pressing against her swollen lips, feeling them part under the slightest of pressure. Then I was in her, moving smoothly along her passage. She'd remembered her lesson from the previous episode, pushing eagerly to meet me, letting me sink fully in with that single thrust, hissing a satisfied, "Yesssss".

This time I didn't need to start slowly, coaxing her along. She knew what was happening and started moving with me, eagerness in her every movement. Start slowly, ha! If anything I had to slow her down. She wanted to move into a crazy gallop right from the start, not immediately getting the concept that less is more.

"If you want this to last any time at all," I growled at her, "I suggest you let me lead the party. Otherwise I'll be spent while you're still warming up."

She grumbled, wanting more. Harder and faster seemed to be the only words she knew. I still managed to maintain a decent rhythm, holding her back that little bit, while building on her immediate arousal and excitement.

Once she understood that I was in charge there were no further problems. We came together smoothly, delighting in the pleasure. I was also pleased that Kathy was responding so nicely and obviously enjoying what was happening. (I suspect that she wasn't even considering my enjoyment at this stage. Women are naturally selfish at times like these.)

I took her along, driving in firmly, letting the pleasure build in both of us. Kathy was amazingly responsive, almost jumping out of her skin and squeaking her pleasure as I took her. I believe that even if I had let her go hell for leather right from the start she'd have peaked and climaxed anyway. Something to try out someday.

All good things must come to an end, including sex. I was riding on the edge. Either I put in some effort and jumped or I was going to fall over anyway. I've always believed in jumping rather than letting things happen.

I put the required effort into it, finally granting Kathy's insistent request for harder and faster. She wanted it and I delivered it with gusto, driving in so hard I thought the counter might break from the pounding. It didn't worry Kathy in the slightest, she was too busy pushing back against me, quite willing to take whatever I could dish out. Fortunately, before she could break me, she climaxed, going almost rigid, apart from the tremors shaking her. I happily let myself go, spilling my seed.

(Maybe I wouldn't try to take her hell for leather right from the word go. Too, too, embarrassing if I couldn't handle her response, which I feared might be enthusiastic to the extreme. Perhaps as a second course, after she'd had the edge taken off.)

Would you believe that once again I had to do the cleaning up? She just relaxed against the counter watching me. I hope she doesn't expect me to clean up every time.

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