My Dad's Receptionist: Nancy

"Fine, Sissy. Whatever. Just take your computer and head to the office. See if Nancy can put you to work."

My large, gruff, old man rolled his eyes and walked away from me, back to the floor of the auto repair shop. It wasn't the largest in our town. It was actually one of the smallest. Not many customers liked dealing with Dad.

Understandably.

He was a bit of a brute. Very much a man's man. Not a "boy's boy" mind you. He was never vulgar. Never disrespectful to women. He refused to allow the auto shop to turn into a den of deviants with nude calendars on the walls and the like.

He had a couple mechanics he kept full-time on the floor to handle the daily work that needed doing. Various cars in various states of repair and disrepair.

I was to be the third, or perhaps a replacement for one of them. At recently-18, it was evidently my destiny to be a car mechanic apprentice, and eventually take over the business when Dad wanted to retire.

The only problem was that I had no interest in that life. I was more bookish. I'd never reveled in outdoorsy things, besides taking a walk and enjoying the scenery. I didn't really like getting my hands dirty; and having them greasy non-stop wasn't high on my bucket list.

As a matter of fact, so much was my interest in not becoming a mechanic, I'd been taking college courses online while in high school, learning to code. I'd even gotten a scholarship to go and attend the state college for it.

Dad knew about it. Didn't understand it. Therefore, didn't like it and wasn't about to spare a dime for it. Thought it was a waste of time. Mom tried to explain it to him. I tried. Tried to tell him that coding was like a gateway to doing what I wanted when I wanted. I could work from anywhere. Work for companies all over the world.

He thought the idea was both ludicrous, and lazy.

We had plenty of fights over it.

I generally just tuned out once we reached the second hour of back and forthing and he'd settled in for an argument. He seemed to really enjoy them. I just wanted to get back to my computer.

Like most every other red-blooded male, I had a significant interest in the fairer sex. If I wasn't coding, I was looking at porn. I seemed to have an unusually high sex drive. I'd easily blow my load three or four times a day if I had the time. Sometimes, I'd jerk off so much I'd chafe. It became so much a habit that I basically needed to ejaculate every 3-4 hours, otherwise I couldn't think straight.

Yet another reason why working from home and coding was the life for me. Not, sitting in an office with Nancy, mid-40s, mother of four kids. Grey hairs already coming through her short, blond hair.

Don't get me wrong. She was nice enough. I could even see that she was kind of pretty. But, I was 18. I'd had sex a few times with girls my age. I even did okay at it apparently. They never complained, anyway. And when I was looking at porn, I was looking for girls in their 20s, with perky tits, flat tummies and tight asses. Sparkling blue-eyed co-eds who got hammered non-stop on spring break from every angle imaginable.

Nancy was nice. She just wasn't that. So, my interest was pretty close to zero. Plus she was married to some guy I met once, but barely registered.

"Hey, Nancy," I grumbled after climbing the stairs up the mezzanine and entering the small office at the end of the corridor. It was basically built for two. Or, now it was. It used to be all for Nancy, but now she needed to babysit me, evidently. Dad had had the guys move another desk in so I could be monitored and shown all the exciting ropes like, "How to enter a new customer into the system" and "sending out an overdue notice".

Gag.

I was bored just thinking about it and it showed up in the sullen tone of my voice.

"Hey, kiddo. How's things?" Nancy kept her eye on her computer and her fingers rapidly tapping.

"Yeah, okay. You mind if I crash in here with you?" Without waiting for an answer, I dumped my laptop onto the dusty, old, spare desk. In the move, the guys had failed to wash their hands and had left greasy fingerprints all over it.

"Ew. Hey, Nance do you have anything I can get this grease off with?"

She turned around, scrutinized the greasy marks with a cocked eyebrow, pulled her whole mouth to one side, scrunching it up in consternation and gave a short, "Hmmmm... Let me see..."

She whipped back around, facing her desk and away from me, leaning over to the bottom right drawer to grab some cleaning spray and paper towels she kept.

Now, I don't know exactly what I was expecting... granny panties I guess. But, when Nancy leaned over to grab the spray bottle, her peek-a-boo thong came out the top of her trademark jean shorts. It was black, and I suppose pretty normal and average for a thong. It's not like it had bells or diamond studs on it. It wasn't a stripper thong. (Not that I'd ever seen one in real life, just from movies.)

I couldn't see anything really, other than the thong riding up her back. I didn't even see her ass cheeks. But... somehow knowing that Nancy... mature... mother-of-four, been-working-for-Dad-for-seven-years Nancy, was wearing a thong was kind of... hot.

It was like I hadn't even considered that a mid-40s mother would be... sexual. Not that a thong even indicated that she was sexual. But... it was definitely sexy and therefore my mind connected Nancy to sexy.

My eyes widened, trying to take in as much of the scene as I could before she pulled herself up, turned her swivel chair around, and tossed me the spray and paper towels.

"There ya go," she said with a smile. "Don't use too much, though. A little goes a long way."

"Er, thanks." I replied. She turned back to her computer.

Tappity-tappity-tappity-tap.

The sound of her pounding away on her keyboard drifted in and out of my ears as I sprayed down my table absentmindedly. I couldn't get the image of her thong out of my head.

A little truly did go a long way.

***

I raced home after work. It hadn't even been a long day. I'd only shown up around noon and worked until 4PM, which is when the guys on the floor took off. Dad was out as he frequently was and would wind up back at home. Nancy would close up when she left around 5:30PM.

But, on a first day, even though I was more or less comfortable with the place because I'd grown up in it, I still wasn't comfortable enough to go jerk off in the greasy men's bathroom.

Nancy had her own bathroom, which was a lot nicer and even had a shower for some reason. Well, technically, it was "the ladies" bathroom and the bathroom for customers if they needed to go. But, other than that, No Boys Allowed, otherwise they'd get it all greasy.

She really did Mother Hen everyone in the shop, even Dad, sending him out on errands and such. No one dared to enter her bathroom and mess it up.

I ran up the stairs to my bedroom. My bewildered mother in the kitchen had hollered out a, "Hey, Matt!" on my way through the front door, and I'd hollered back a reply, but I needed to get to my room.

Soon as I was there, the door slammed, locked, and I started peeling off clothes.

Finally, it was time to cum.

I grabbed my laptop out of my bag and flipped it open, quickly navigating to my favorite video site. I usually liked to work up to videos. I'd start with some pics or gifs that got me going. Kind of feel my way into the mood. Eventually though, I'd land on this site unless something else really caught my eye beforehand.

Today, it'd been so long that I went straight to the money shot.

Search: teen co-ed

I browsed through the results looking for something I thought I might like. I was a sucker for tits and ass. Who wasn't, right? But, I also loved it when the girl came. And rough fucking.

Hell, I loved it all. But, the woman needed to be enjoying herself. I didn't like shit like degradation. Both parties needed to be having a good time.

I suppose we've all got our personal kinks, right?

I couldn't really find what I was after, though, and I wanted this to be good. So, I tried again.

Search: blond teen co-ed

I don't know why I put in 'blond'. I didn't necessarily have a thing for blonds. Still, the results I got were a little better, but still not up to snuff.

Search: blond spring break

Frustrated with the practically identical results, I tried again.

Search: blond cheating

Again, I can't say why I put 'cheating' in. I'd seen 'cheating' themed videos before, sure. But, I'd never really sought them out. Today, I guess, was different. This scratched the itch better.

The girls were a bit older, which was good. Probably late 20s instead of late teens. Even better. I grabbed my pump bottle of lube out of my bedside table, made my selection, and spent the following hour in self-satisfying delight.

***

The next morning, before work I pumped one out again. Usually I diversified. For instance, if I looked at a hot blond cheating on her husband the night before, I wanted a brunette coed the next time. I didn't like to get stale. I liked to keep the content changing.

But, this morning was different. I wanted that blond, cheating situation again. I found another video that fit the bill. It was odd. She was older still than last night. But, it worked. And I mean really worked. I banged one off, felt my body relax, and headed to work.

***

"Hey kiddo!"

"Hey, Nancy. How's the day so far?"

"Hmmmmm," she scrunched up her face. "Not too bad. The old man is off on a road trip, and while the cat's away, right?"

I laughed. Three weeks of working together had loosened both of us up. We were the "dynamic duo" in the office now to everyone on the floor. In general, we had a great time together.

Meanwhile, in those weeks, my porn habit had definitely taken a turn.

I couldn't even get off to any girl younger than 30, and she always needed to have short, blond hair. This was kind of tough to manage, but I was becoming a bit obsessed and I knew why.

Nancy didn't even wear provocative clothing. She was for all intents and purposes, just a mom with a job. She was slender, but had hips that said she'd had children, and drove me wild.

She never wore anything that revealed any cleavage, but I could tell she was stacked. A few inches shorter than me. Bright, sparkly blue eyes. Smile lines on her face, and the imprint of the furrowed brow she had when concentrating on a spreadsheet.

She had fantastic legs, though. That's one aspect she did seem to show off. She generally wore totally reasonable jean shorts. By 'totally reasonable' I mean, no one else would turn their head at them. They didn't show cheek, or sit low. They covered everything up, but they left those smooth, tanned pins on display and every second I could steal a glance was a good one to me.

Today was no different, and at that moment she was bending over in her chair to grab a pencil that had fallen on the floor and I got to peek at her thong-of-the-day.

"Blue, today huh? Nice choice." I quipped.

She grinned and rolled her eyes. It had since become a little thing for me to tease her about her underwear that I could see whenever she bent over.

She didn't mind it. Just laughed it off.

"Yeah, I thought hot pink might be a bit much for a Tuesday."

"Hmmm, and I thought Blue Monday was the song." I said.

It's not like I was seeing all her ass. It was literally just a scrap of fabric that became visible at certain times. That's. All.

But it was the fact that it wasn't really meant to be seen that was thrilling. That, and the knowledge that it was only showing the bit that wasn't actively hugging her pussy lips or squeezing between her ass cheeks. I'd even surreptitiously snapped a photo of it once and had used it to pump myself to completion, many times.

I plopped into my seat and Nancy spun back to her computer, tapping away as I pulled out my laptop.

Now was as good a time as any, I supposed.

"Hey, Nancy?" I hesitated.

"Hmm?" Without turning around.

"So, I got this thing on this Friday. Just me and a couple of my friends. We're gonna sleep over and play video games all night."

She turned around with a disbelieving grin on her face, "'Sleep over?'" She mocked, "Aren't you just a bit old for that?" She giggled.

I laughed. "Okay! So, wrong phrase. I'm gonna lay around on a couch with my friends and play video games, and at certain points I may drift in and out of consciousness. This will be an all-night endeavor. There. How's that?"

She laughed and went back to her computer. "At least now you don't sound like an 11-year-old."

"That's about when you started working for Dad. Remember? First week here and you made me a cake!"

She turned to me affectionately and sing-songed, "I rememberrrrr."

"Soooooo," I stammered as she went back to her computer, "The guys were wondering... since they don't know anyone... no, I mean... because you're cool and all..."

"Ohhhhhh, no." She said, cutting me off and spinning around, "I'm not getting suckered into buying booze for minors."

My jaw dropped at her powers of perception. "I..! But...! How did..? Well, I must say, Nancy. I am shocked that you would even suggest..."

"Oh, c'mon Matt, you think I never tried to get someone to buy me alcohol when I was your age?" She cocked an eyebrow.

"Did you?" I asked, surprised. I hadn't even really considered that she might have been my age at one time.

"Ohhh, yes," she replied, "About every weekend. I was always the 'good girl' sent to get it from one of my dad's friends. I just needed to bat my eyelashes at them."

She seemed to revel in the memory as she batted her lashes in my direction and gave me a satisfied smile.

"See, Nancy, I don't have any dad-friends who would do that for me, and I don't have eyelashes quite so lovely as yours."

She laughed, "You don't have my tits, either! Batting my eyelashes wasn't the only thing I did." She smirked, turning back to her computer.

"Whoaaaa! Nance! I know I can't buy you booze but when do I get that treatment?"

Out it popped, even before I could think. Fortunately, she got up with her empty coffee cup to get a refill.

"Oh, come on, Matt. I'm literally old enough to be your mom. And that was a looooong time ago." She ruffled my dark hair and headed out the door. I kept my eye on her ass and legs as she went.

***

"So, I'm thinking just a bottle of Jack Daniels, and a bottle of Grey Goose. Anything else you'd recommend?"

It was 5:00PM on Friday, and my presumption was met with the giggle, but no response.

Since Tuesday, I'd tried to be as charming as I could, but eventually resorted to the 'assumptive close' where you talk about what you want as if it's simply going to happen. I was hoping that she'd give in if I was incessant enough.

Quitting time was in half an hour. If I didn't get Nancy to agree to the liquor purchase, me and the boys would have a far less enjoyable evening.

"Hmmmmm," I said, "Well, Nance, I guess you're really not young at heart anymore, are you? Such a shame."

I tsk-tsk'd a few times for dramatic effect and waited to see if she'd take the bait.

A good ten seconds went past with no movement from her. But, finally she turned slowly in her chair to face me, eyebrow cocked and a look of displeasure on her face. I wondered if I was about to receive a motherly dressing-down.

"You got money?" She queried.

My shocked eyes lit up at her acquiescence.

"Yeah! I do!"

I scrambled to grab my bag under my desk, pulled it out onto the floor and started scratching inside for the twenties I'd been given by the boys.

Nancy got up and stood next to me, almost uncomfortably close. All I could see out of my side vision was those tanned legs of hers, closer now than ever. I just wanted to rub my face all over them. But, didn't figure that'd go over well.

I looked up after collecting the last of the cash and leaned back in my chair, thrusting the fistful of dollars at her.

"Thank you so much! You're literally the best!"

She kept her glare on me and pointed her delicate finger down at me.

"I'll go now," she stated as if it was an order, "I'll get your stuff. I'll bring it back up to the office, then I'm off for the day. You lock up. Deal?"

"Deal!"

As she left the room and started walking to the exit, I called to her in the empty building.

"Thank you, Nancy!... You're the best!... You're amazing!... And super hot!..."

That last one I threw in just to be silly, but also to release a little bit of the crush I had on her. Yeah, she was over 20 years my senior... but those legs... that ass.

I heard her hoot with laughter as she left the building.

***

My night with the boys went about as you'd expect. We got drunk. Stayed up way too late. Played video games, and in the morning, we all felt like trash and wanted nothing to do with one another. Between the four of us, we'd managed to polish off nearly half of each bottle, but were sensible enough to not try for any more.

As is generally the case, these all-night parties are a better idea in the days leading up to the event than the actual event itself, and in the morning you remember that.

There's never enough room for everyone. Everyone sleeps like trash. Someone, maybe multiple people, have thrown up. You just kind of pass out wherever you're sitting, holding a video game controller, and covered in chip crumbs.

I woke around 9AM, completely uncomfortable after falling asleep in an old, very worn-out chair. I wanted to get out of there. Find some place I could actually sleep off the rest of my hang-over. I started with a shower and got into my spare change of clothes I'd brought.

After a night of drinking hard liquor and eating junk food, I felt a little disgusting. A shower did me good. At least I didn't stink like a party, anymore. And I was so glad I'd brought my toothbrush.

I probably shouldn't have driven, but I did anyway. It was Saturday morning in a small town. I knew all the cops, and they'd never be prowling around at this hour, and if they were they wouldn't be looking for trouble.

I headed back toward my parent's house and was trying to figure out how, in my post-drunken state I was going to be able to sneak in without being noticed by my mother who, being no real early bird, was always certainly up and alert by 9AM, even on a Saturday.

At that moment, I was pulling up to the auto shop. I considered the desk chair I'd recently bought for myself to replace the rickety wooden table chair I'd been given.

Beautiful leather. Heaps of cushion. Nice amount of rock-back. I reckoned that if I tilted it back and kicked my feet up, that might be a nice place to sleep off the alcohol.

I turned in. I knew my old man was still on his road trip. Mom might be awake but she'd never leave the house this early on a Saturday. My car would go unnoticed, especially if I parked around the back.

Lugging my duffel bag with the half-bottles of booze and my other clothes in it, I let myself into the back door, leaving the lights off, went into the kitchen on the ground floor, put on a pot of coffee for later, then climbed the mezzanine steps and entered the office. The smell of reams of paper and the sound of humming computer equipment hit me and I was immediately transported back to work.

Just a shame Nancy's chair sat empty. I could have used a look at her legs.

***

I was coming in and out of consciousness. Someone with nice hands was running their fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my forehead. It was lovely.

"Hey..! Hey, Matt...!" They whispered forcefully.

My eyes fluttered open to reveal Nancy standing over me. It was her fingers in my hair. She had woken me. But... why was she here?