Irene and Jack Ch. 01

"Stay away from her. That bitch is mine. She'll be sucking my dick within the month, and when I'm through fucking her I'll hand her over to some of my friends in the hood."

I had all I could do to maintain my composure and not pound the shit out of him on the spot. I'm not Mr. Muscles, but I had about 3 inches height on him, and with 15 years of martial arts I can still hold my own. Just who did this chucklehead think he was? With the recorder still running I had Irene come into my office and ask what had transpired at the coffee station.

"He grabbed my breast and said he'd be banging this PAWG soon enough, that's when you walked up."

I looked at her confused and ask what the hell a PAWG was. She looked down, I could see her face flush, then the tears started.

"A PAWG is a Phat Ass White Girl."

I stood up and headed for the door, Irene stood in front of me. It was so sudden and unexpected I nearly knocked her over. She put her hand on my chest just like Ingrid used to do when I was pissed off and about to make a mistake. It caught me completely off guard, then I heard her say,

"Please Mr. Reynolds don't do anything hasty. I've already heard him say that if he gets fired he's going to sue for racial discrimination."

I knew she was right, before I went to HR I went around to each of the cubicles of the ladies and girls Irene had told me about. I got each of them to write a statement attesting to what I'd been told. The stupid kid had said most of his lewd statements in front of all the married women in that section. One of the young black housewives said he was known in the mostly black bars as "shorty", a pump and dump guy.

He had foolishly spoken in front of all these ladies, it wasn't very hard to corroborate each other's encounter. After a good laugh I chose to cool off by walking down the several flights of stairs to Human Resources. Upon entering I immediately saw a friendly face, I had Agnes photocopy the affidavits and transfer the recording of my audio with Jeremy onto a disc.

I told Agnes to have security bring the new hire Jeremy down to HR. When he showed up he was all puffed up and boisterous. He looked at me and wanted to know who the fuck I thought I was, why he had been dissed in front of his subordinates by security and that when he was through with the racial harassment suit the company would wish they'd never fucked with him. I was confused, he was low man on the totem pole, he didn't have any subordinates.

Agnes said, "Jeremy, meet Mr. Reynolds, the man who hired you."

I thought he was going to die on the spot, it was obvious he recalled our brief discussion at the coffee bar. I explained that I was terminating his employment, it was well within the probationary period and I didn't need to provide him with reason. He simply didn't fit in our work environment. He once again got all puffed up and pissy, so I produced all of the documentation ... he about shit his pants. He started blubbering and wanting to apologize and that pissed me off even more. I decided to address him.

"Jeremy, we had high hopes for you, and while you were able to leave the ghetto, the ghetto still lives in you. You're the one who chose to act and speak foolishly, and now when you reap the consequences you want to be all pissy about it. Time to grow up Jeremy."

Security escorted him to his cubicle for any of his personal items and then out the front door. I was sure Ingrid would have been proud of me, that I hadn't just killed the little son of a bitch, but had done it properly, therefore avoiding any bad publicity for the company.

As the days and weeks went by Irene and I seemed to find a groove working together. She had an uncanny ability to know what I needed before I would ask. She would pop into my office with documents I hadn't even ask for yet, always a big smile on her pretty face. The weeks turned into months, Thanksgiving and Christmas had both flown by. I'd spent both with our kids, but I still felt empty.

I found myself wanting company, other than my children, and the grandkids climbing all over me. Which I love by the way. I didn't want to do the bar scene and I sure as hell wasn't interested in the online "over 50" dating sites. My daughters stopping in regularly wasn't quite the same as sharing an evening in conversation with someone, mainly because the topic always came back to Ingrid's sudden passing.

The more I watched Irene and interacted with her the more I noticed how pretty she was, how we got along great and how we always seemed at ease with one another. I decided to take the plunge and ask her to dinner, no strings attached, just dinner. When I told her my idea in the office she attempted to remain calm, cool, and collected, but knowing she didn't have a social life to speak of, I figured inside her calm demeanor she was doing her happy dance and screaming YES.

She smiled, "I'd be happy to have dinner with you."

I asked if tomorrow evening was too soon, she said no and departed.

IRENE:

Leaving his office my mind was racing a hundred miles an hour. Oh my God. Did Mr. Reynolds just ask me to dinner? What the hell was that all about? It's been over a year since Ingrid died, and I'm honored he asked me out, I just hope I don't make a fool of myself. Why am I feeling all tingly inside, are my nipples getting hard, oh my gosh, are my panties getting wet? I've never felt this way before. Holy shit, I'm turned on beyond belief right now. I haven't been this turned on since my roomie ate my snatch as a summer camp counselor when I was 19. Get a grip Irene, he asked you to go to dinner, not an overnight fuck-a-thon.

The next day Irene came into my office, "Do you mind if I leave a bit early? I'd like to go home and get ready for the evening."

"Well sure if you need to, it's just dinner Irene."

She smiled, "I want it to be perfect. I want a little extra time to shower, do my hair, makeup, and pick out the right outfit."

"Okay, I'll pick you up at seven."

Jack:

What the heck was that all about? We're only going to dinner, not the damned opera. Then I thought things through a little more. I thought again about how Irene didn't have much of a social life, part of the reason she threw herself so deeply into her job.

"She wants this evening to be special, by golly I'm going to make it just that, special."

"On my way home I stopped for a bouquet of flowers, swung by the steak house, set it up with the hostess to have my regular table ready by 7:30, and to be sure the flowers were on the table. I also swung by the local jewelers for a lovely set of dangling pearl earrings and matching necklace. I love dangly earrings and her neck would accentuate them lovely.

Irene:

What the hell am I going to do? There's no time to shop for a new dress or accessories. It was then I remembered Ingrid's words. "Honey, dress for the occasion, don't over dress and don't under dress. Put on some nice lingerie so you feel sexy and desirable even if who you're with won't ever see it." Suddenly I knew just the right dress and the lingerie to go along with it.

I primped and pampered myself, taking extra time to get my makeup just right. As Ingrid would tell me, just enough to accentuate my beauty and elegant features, but not so much that I looked slutty. My hair was pulled back on the sides and then held together with a beautiful silver hair piece that had been my grandmothers, allowing it to flow down my back.

I picked out a red dress, not fire engine red, and not burgundy red, something in between with cream colored piping around the neck and shoulder sleeves. I laid out cream colored stockings, a red garter belt along with cream colored sheer bra and panty set.

I slowly and meticulously rolled each stocking in place, then put on my garter belt and fastened the clips, next were the cream colored, sheer panties. I looked at myself in the mirror noticing my bush was visible through my panties. I wondered if I should have shaved it, no time left to do that, and besides who was going to see it but me?

Next was my bra holding me comfortably, but it still allowing for a little movement. My nipples were hard and poking through the fabric, I was glad the material of the dress was heavy enough they wouldn't show. The bodice of the dress was fitted but not too tight, the cream colored belt accentuated my waist nicely, with the bottom hanging delicately off my hips, flaring slightly, ending about 3-4" above my knee. I knew Mr. Reynolds liked dresses, I just hoped he wouldn't be disappointed in mine. My beige 4" heels and dark red lipstick were the finishing touch.

Jack:

I pulled up to her duplex at exactly seven o'clock, grabbed her gift and started toward the door. We paid our employees well and Irene had been smart enough to buy a duplex in a nicer part of town, renting out the other side for nearly the total amount of her mortgage. It was nicely landscaped and inviting. About half way up the walk Irene suddenly opened the door and started walking toward me. I stopped in my tracks. "What are you doing Irene?"

"Well I'm coming out, so we can go to dinner."

"That's not how this works Irene, you go back inside, and wait for me to ring the doorbell, a gentleman always goes to the door. I'll be right back."

Irene went into her house, as I drove away, making a circle around the block. I stopped in front of the house, walked to the door and rang the doorbell. Irene opened it with a huge smile. I ask if I might step inside for a moment, after the door closed I handed the gift box to Irene.

"What's this for Mr. Reynolds?"

"Just because you're special and I wanted you to have something special from me."

Watching her open the box I thought she was going to hyperventilate, she was so excited.

"Oh Mr. Reynolds, no one has ever given me anything this beautiful. Can I put them on?"

"Of course, let me help with the necklace."

After the necklace was on, she removed her other earrings and quickly put in the pearls.

Irene:

As I was looking at myself in the mirror I was thinking, "if this man wasn't my employer I'd nail his ass to the floor and screw him silly."

Dinner was great. Irene was equally surprised that not only did I have a regular table, but that I'd made sure flowers for her were there as well. When the waiter was asking about dessert, Irene placed her hand on mine and ask if we could have dessert and coffee at her house.

I was in a panic, had I given her the wrong idea, sure she was lovely as can be tonight, as much as I'd like to bury his face in her muff and slide my cock into her love canal, I didn't want to take advantage of Irene or the situation.

Irene must have seen the trepidation on my face because she quickly spoke, "I have a blueberry pie at home, Ingrid said blueberry and cherry were your favorites. I know you don't like coffee, so there's milk for you. Would dessert at my house be okay?"

"Yes, yes Irene, I would love that. Why don't you powder your nose one last time while I have the flowers wrapped for you to take home and pay the bill? I'll be waiting by the door."

The pie was delicious and there'd been just enough time between the meal and dessert that neither of us was uncomfortable. Standing on her doorstep as I said goodnight I could not get past how much I liked this girl. Figuring it's all or nothing time, I ask if I could kiss her goodnight. Even in her 4" heels she was still a few inches lower than me. I leaned down a bit while she stood on tip toes and our lips met. Soft, not very sensual, and yet very inviting. As I pulled back I looked into her glimmering blue eyes and ask if I could have another, this time it was more sensuous and at the same time soft. Those full plump lips beckoning for another.

"Thanks Irene, I had a wonderful night, I'd forgotten how good it felt to hold and kiss a woman."

"Mr. Reynolds, I told you on the front porch of your house that I'll do anything to help you ... anything."

I felt my dick twitch and wondered what that was all about. I hadn't touched my dick since Ingrid died other than to piss or shower, the feelings just weren't there, and now the traitor in my pants wants to stand up straight and wave the flag. Holy shit, I need to go home before this gets out of control. I gave her one last peck on the lips and bid her goodnight. As I drove home the feelings in my groin didn't subside and I had all I could do not too address the issue at hand before I fell asleep.

Irene:

Oh my Gosh, my head is spinning. I have never felt so weak in the knees. How the hell can a few kisses make me feel like this? If I didn't know my panties were sticky with my sex juices, I'd swear I wet myself. As I undressed I thought maybe I should change into dry panties before bed, but instead of sliding down my legs and onto the floor as usual, they were stuck between my legs. I had to literally pull them away from my ever so wet and sensitive slit. I had never gotten into the habit of frequent masturbation or the use of vibrators and such ... but after tonight I may need to re-think that train of thought. After cleaning myself and dry panties I slid into bed.

Next day at work all was normal, I went about my day and Irene did as well. Around noon I called her into my office, told her to shut the door and ask her to sit with me on the couch. I noticed Irene was trembling, probably thinking she'd done something wrong.

I turned to her, "Irene, about last night" and before I could finish my sentence Irene started crying.

"Oh Mr. Reynolds I'm so sorry, you left so quickly I just knew I'd messed up as usual." I put my finger to her lips and whispered, shhhh.

"Irene, you certainly did nothing wrong, it's me who needs to apologize to you. I feel as though I took advantage of my position as your employer and that I forced myself upon you asking for a kiss. I have to say I enjoyed it immensely, I've missed the taste and feel of a woman's lips, and Ingrid must have told you how much I like lipstick, because you used just the right color last night. My fear, Irene, is that the feelings I had will only escalate and I won't restrain myself in the future. Perhaps we should just end our dinner dates right here".

Before I could continue Irene kissed her finger, then brought it to my lips, copying me she whispered, shhhh.

"Before you go any further Mr. Reynolds, I could have said stop at any time. Has it ever occurred to you that I might have wanted that to happen, that I was truly enjoying myself, and that you weren't the only one dealing with strange feelings and desires? I don't want it to end this way, given your age it's not likely there's a white picket fence and three kids in the yard as part of our future, but right now I feel completely safe in your arms, please don't send me away."

"Irene, if we're going to continue hanging out together then you need to stop calling me Mr. Reynolds, my name is Jack, and you should call me that."

"Mmmmm, I can't do that Mr. Reynolds, I respect you too much."

"Well then let's figure a name that when you use it I'll know you're doing more than just addressing your employer. Something that only you will use."

"Everyone addresses you as Mr. Reynolds, so how about if I call you, Boss? It'll be our own personal code word."

"I like that Irene, boss it is. Now we need to address a few more issues. First off this is not an office romance, I have a job to do and so do you. Second, you cannot talk about this with any other employees, absolute discretion is a must. For your sake and mine. If it escalates into more than dinner out, we'll deal with it then. Third, I always loved it when Ingrid flirted with me a little. I wouldn't mind that from you as well, but it must be done in a way that others don't see. We both must assure that neither of us ever embarrasses the other in public, our relationship while in a business setting must be nothing but professional. Do you think you can live within those parameters, or do we scrap it here and now?"

It didn't take Irene 15 seconds to give her answer. "Yes "boss", I can live within those parameters if you can live within mine. First, never belittle, degrade, or humiliate me on purpose, I've had a life of that. Second, please don't bring up my weight, I know I'm chubby, but it's something I've battled all my life and this the best I've ever looked. Third, if this should go beyond dinner dates, holding hands and kissing, promise me you won't force me to do something I don't want to do. Can you live within those parameters Mr. Reynolds?"

I didn't hesitate with my answer, "not an issue Irene."

Irene leaned into me, kissed me softly and whispered in my ear, "thanks boss, and remember, anything I can do to help you, I will."

Following that exchange Irene scooted back out to her desk and continued with what she had been doing. I did the same with the tasks at hand before me.

Over the next few weeks we went out several times. Sometimes to dinner, other times a pizza and a movie, even an evening in the park listening to a local band play in the small amphitheater.

One morning Irene walked into my office and said we needed to chat if I had a few minutes. I agreed, she closed and locked the door. Irene walked over to my desk and sat on the corner facing me. She talked about being able to help me in any way possible. Then she flushed red and said it again, "anything Boss, anything."

I studied her face as I sat back. I wanted to gather my thoughts before I spoke.

"Are you talking about sex Irene? Are you sure that's something you want? Honey it can get to be an awful mess when sex is brought into the mix. It would change our relationship dramatically."

"Oh Jack, (it was one of the few times she would ever call me by my first name), I can't think of anything I want more. I think of you constantly, I dream of you every night, I get aroused just having you anywhere near me." She raised her dress far enough to show me her nylons and garter straps. She blurted out, "hell I even dress for you", then pulled her dress up to her waist revealing her sheer yellow panties and the lovely dark bush behind the fabric.

"I bought this bra and panty set last night in yellow, because I know yellow is your favorite color, I was determined to make my point this morning." She looked down as she lowered her dress and muttered something about shaving her bush.

"One more caveat boss, I've never been with a man, hell I've never even been with a boy, so I don't know how to do anything. I've read lots of books and even watched some porn, but that's not the same as actually doing things. I want to please you in every way, but I have no idea where to begin. Will you be patient with me and teach me?"

I was completely blown away. Here's a girl, no make that a woman, who's soon going to be 23 and has never experienced sex, in fact the kisses at her front door were the first she'd ever received in a romantic fashion. What to do? After several excruciating moments I finally spoke.

"Every fiber of my being is telling me this is nuts and one or both of us is going to get hurt. The very last thing I want is for you to get your heart hurt at such a tender age. Irene are you absolutely sure about this?" She nodded her head affirmatively.

I reached up and cupped her breast, caressing it lightly. Irene gasp, her body tensed, and her hand immediately went over the top of mine. She didn't move my hand, but you could tell a man's hand on her breast was something she wasn't familiar with. When I moved to her nipple and gently squeezed it, she whimpered a little, but still didn't remove my hand. Moving my hand from her breast to her knee I slid it under her dress and up her inner thigh, again she flinched. When I'd reached the top of her nylons she stopped my hand with hers.