Madam Erotica

loss of innocence

The sweat was dripping from my brow as my iron glided over the dress I
was pressing. It was about ninety degrees where I was working, on the
pressing line in a dress factory. I was eighteen and had one more year
of school. The factory was across the street from where I lived and it
was convenient for me, and besides I needed the money. I worked after
school and on Saturdays. This Saturday started out like any other. As
usual I had a hang over from Friday night, and I was sweating from the
liquor that I had consumed. Sharon was working behind me on the pressing
line. She was an average looking woman in her forties, except for one
thing; she had the biggest breasts I ever saw. She was a short woman
with long shoulder length brown hair and beautiful brown eyes, and had a
nice figure. But her breasts were something else. They were so large
they looked like they didn’t belong to her. I often stole a look at them
when I didn’t think she could see me, and wondered what they looked like
without a bra holding them up. Only this Saturday was going to be
different more than I ever realized. It would change the way I looked at
women the rest of my life. Sharon tapped me on the shoulder, “here’s a
towel to wipe your face, you are really sweating this morning, Ronnie.”
I took the towel and wiped the perspiration from my face. “Thank you
Sharon,” She smiled softly and said, “Would you like to come over my
house tonight for supper? I know prime rib is your favorite so I thought
I would ask.” Sharon caught me by surprise and I didn’t know what to say
for a moment, regaining my composure. I did love prime rib and we have
been working together for about six months now, I thought. “Sure what
time?” I asked. “How does six sound to you?” “That will be fine,” I
answered. I didn’t think much about it the rest of the day. Twelve
O’clock came and we all couldn’t wait to go home. Sharon walked with me
as we left the factory. “Remember Ron, six,” Sharon reminded me. “Ok,” I
answered, as I ran across the street to my house.

The rest of the day was uneventful. I laid around the house watching TV
and listening to records. About five I took a shower, got dressed, and
splashed on some English Leather. I was starved. I hadn’t eaten any
lunch and I was glad Sharon offered to cook supper for me tonight. It
was only a short walk to Sharon’s house. A warm summer breeze was
blowing. It felt good as it caressed my young, beardless, soft skin.
Sharon lived in a very modest house. It was neatly painted and the grass
was kept well. She told me her late husband left it to her with a couple
other properties. I walked up the steps and knocked on the door. Sharon
opened the door and smiled softly. “Hi Ronnie,” she said, “glad you
could make it.” Sharon held the door wide open, beckoning me to come in.
I could smell the prime rib cooking. It made me even more hungry as I
walked into her setting room. “Have a seat,” she said pointing to the
sofa that was against the wall. “Would you like a drink?” she asked.
“That would be nice, something cold,” I answered. She came back in a
little while with two glasses, handed me one and sat down beside me. It
looked like coke, but as I put it to my lips I could tell it had more in
it then just coke. “I know you like bourbon Ronnie, so I added a little
to the coke. Do you mind?” she said smiling softly. “No not at all,” I
replied, trying to act as if I was older then I was; Not to impress her,
more like trying to act cool. The bourbon and coke went down easy.
Besides, it was a warm summer evening and it tasted good. It was nice of
her to remember that I drank bourbon. Not that I drank that often, but I
did tip a few now and then. “Dinner will be ready in a little while,”
she said.

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