When I was a teenager, I got a part-time job at my neighborhood grocery store. Not unlike a lot of neighborhood markets, it did a fair amount of trade in skin mags.
One day, I was opening a shipment in the back room when my curiosity got the best of me, and I started going through one of the cheaper editions. You know the kind I mean-the women don't look like the perfect, unreachable types in Playboy, but look like they might let you do them if you just got to meet them.
As I looked at their pictures, I couldn't help but pull out my dick and start stroking. I was rock-hard when Phyllis, the owner, walked in.
There was nothing I could do. I was caught with my dick in my hand.
'I guess I'm fired,' I said, turning away.
'No, you're not fired,' said Phyllis, a shapely 40-year-old redhead, unbuttoning her blouse and undoing her bra. 'You're just a healthy young man. Let me finish you off, baby.'
I turned back toward her and she took my dick in her hands, with her mams in my face. I'd been jacking off for some years by then, but I'd never felt anything like what she did to me. Time after time, she had me on the verge of popping my load, and then brought me back. Finally, I could tell there was no way I could stop, and I let out a moan as my dick got superhard.
'Shoot on my jugs, honey,' Phyllis said, kneeling in front of me.
I didn't need to be told twice. I felt as if my balls were going to turn inside out as thick, white spurts of jism shot out of my cock, landing on Phyllis's tanned titties. At the same time, she jammed her hand down her pants and worked herself, thrusting against her hand as she climaxed. By the time I was done, I almost fainted.
'That was great, sweetie,' Phyllis cooed. 'Now, you'd better zip up get back to work.'
That wasn't the last time Phyllis and I did some extra work in the back room. Needless to say, it was the best job I ever had.