Susan had never experienced sex until today, living alone with her abandoned repressive mother.
She was a big girl with a simmering undiscovered sexuality locked in the frozen consciousness of herself. Men had hit on her; Phil wanted to fuck her relentlessly, trying to get in her clothes, kiss, feel, and touch her all to no success. The thought of a body, any body, her body, broke her out in cold sweats. To avoid touching or becoming aware of her body in any way, let alone her pussy or breasts, she washed with a rag or sponge in the shower.
She did have disturbing dreams, though. She dreamt occasionally of running naked down an empty alley at night under glaring streetlights. The people were staring at her naked body through their windows as she ran by desperately trying to hide her jiggling tits with her hands. She could see their big open eyes examining every disgusting fold of her sex. This almost brought her to vomiting with humiliation. Homeless men in the alley tried to poke their gnarly fingers in her openings.
So it was quite a surprise when she showed up late at night at my door. She was obviously agitated and nervous, talking incessantly about nothing in particular. She had been my Admin for four years and I was like an uncle to her, listening to her most intimate thoughts, her fears and hopes with never a thought of sexual involvement with this girl. I did always enjoy looking at her sumptuous smooth white wide breasts escaping from her not quite buttoned up blouses and soft bras. This was her way, denying to herself the intentional display of her lovely full breasts, light brown large bumpy aureoles just peeking out of her bra for my view, quickly obviously pulling her blouse closed for everyone else. Coquetry. I loved it.
She plunked down on my sofa and sighed heavily.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Nothing," she said.
I saw the embarrassment flash across her face at the lie.
"I have these feelings," she said.