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Memories of Nora


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Prologue- The recent past



I’m sitting uncomfortably on one of those steel folding chairs. Slouching down in attempt to be invisible to the counselor and forty odd others around me has caused my back to ache. I am at a “Post Divorce Workshop.” I thought this seminar would be a good way to meet some good looking divorcees. Yeah, not quite—they’re a bunch of bowsers. My ex-wife would enjoy my misery. What a stupid fucking idea this was!

The counselor’s voice drones on about putting bitterness behind and moving on. I’d love to move on—right the fuck out of here. This place looks a lot like the office of an insurance company I worked at when I was a college kid. I have some great memories of that job, especially of that sexy woman I met there. I wonder what happened to her- -Nora was her name—I still get a warm sexy thinking about her.

Many years past



I was 19 years old the summer I met Nora. A job at a small auto insurance company dropped in my lap. My dad and I had a big fight the year before—I left and moved in with two other guys. I had always had a job and worked hard so I was able to pay my own way at college. My first year at the U of I was in the books. Life was pretty good- if you didn’t count my lack of sex. I was always horny; my past history was limited to three groping quickies in my aging Studebaker Lark. My left hand and Penthouse magazines were my prime time dates. But then along came Nora…

She started working at the company about a month after I got there. I was a trainee adjustor in the claims department and she worked in underwriting; me in the back and she in the front of the office. I had spotted Nora kind of gliding around the office. She was tall, always wore high heels, no nylons, just the bare legs with high heels. I regularly fantasized about running my hands up those bare legs to her panties. And breasts, oh what breasts; not huge, mind you, but nice sized, jiggling in one of those not-so-tight bras that made you think you were seeing the outline of her nipples.

Nora wasn’t what you’d call beautiful. Rather, she was what I would call exotically attractive in a very sexy way. She dressed stylishly, clingy dresses that showed the trace lines of her underwear but didn’t make her look like a tramp. She wore little make up. I took every opportunity to get near her. I loved her smell, a light perfume, but sexy as hell; it lingered in the air after she walked by.

Her summer frocks were revealing; sleeveless, made of a thin silky material. When she was seated when I walked by, the cleavage separating her beautiful breasts were like magnets for my eyes. When she stooped to retrieve a file, I was there to glance between her tanned bare thighs in hopes of a glimpse of sheer panties. When she walked away, I gloried in the sight of her ass swaying under the thin material, panty lines bisecting each cheek of her fabulous ass.

I wasn’t alone in admiring her charms. The two salty old claims lawyers joined me in the Nora appreciation club, and they had years of practice at it. I loved their stories and had fun bullshitting with them. One day, the Irish one, named Frank Murphy, was deep in a war story about a trial he won when I noticed his blue eyes look up over his reading glasses and sparkle impishly. I turned to find my fantasy girl coming our way in a light blue dress. It clung over her breasts as if in a windstorm. The neckline was modest, but her breasts jiggled magically and her nipples tipped perkily through the soft fabric. Her high heels clicked efficiently on the hardwood floor. Below the knee length skirt, shapely bare legs flashed crisply in the sunlight from the windows. Soft brown hair brushed her shoulders and fluffy bangs partially staged her large dark eyes.

Nora (unknowingly?) had me in a state of arousal whenever I saw her. She was my fantasy woman.

“Kid, you’d better not step on your tongue when you get up,” Frank chortled. I grinned sheepishly. As Nora passed us Frank looked at her beautifully shaped ass smoothly swaying in her clinging dress.

“Looks like two eggs in a silk handkerchief!” he said in a stage whisper.

I learned a lot from Frank.

Martha Morgan was the company comptroller. She was a real looker, tough and smart. At 35, she was tall with a great body. Her wardrobe was the opposite of Nora’s in that it made her look like a high class hooker. Martha liked me. She got a huge kick out of crossing and re-crossing her nylon clad legs when I was in her office. She would always greet me with “hi, how’s horny Michael?” On more than one occasion she needled me about having the hots for Nora.

Martha kept me up on the latest office gossip. During these little talks I would give her a tidbit and than press her for info about Nora.

She would grin and ask “don’t I turn you on?”

One time, feeling brave, I told her I often thought about her long legs and great body. She rose from behind her desk and raised her tight, very short skirt high on her thighs.

“You mean these?”

She pulled the skirt all the way up above her crotch. Her nylons were attached to a garter belt and she had white, see-through panties on. Above the whiteness of her bare thighs, I saw her full thatch of black pubic hair matted under the panties. Dismayed, I watched it all disappear an instant later when she dropped her skirt.

“Michael, you couldn’t afford me—go after someone your own age!” She laughed throatily and leaned back in her chair.

At that point, Nora and I had spoken on many occasions without saying much to each other. I mostly gawked at her and mumbled. However, human nature being what it was and me a sneaky shit, I knew where Martha kept the personnel files. Very early one morning, I made a successful search locating Nora’s file (there were only 25 employees, so it was pretty easy). I learned that:

Nora was 26 years old, a High school grad, one yr college, business major. She had been in Chicago only two months. Her prior address was in TN. She was single, never married, lived nearby and had never been convicted of a felony. Because it was none of my business (hah), I didn’t look at her salary or health insurance info. Her previous experience was mostly secretarial for medium sized businesses. There were two glowing references, one from each gender; those were confirmed by phone.

A few days after my detective work, Nora had come to my desk and was asking me a question about several claims I had handled on behalf of a policy holder. She was standing alongside me, leaning over my left shoulder.

Her long flowing hair was tickling my cheek. I smelled her perfume or shampoo. I felt the material of her blouse against my shirt and the image of gorgeous breasts raced across my mind. I was hard in seconds. My hands sweating and heart racing, I stammered an answer. Not understanding, Nora put her right hand on my bare left arm.

“Are you OK?”

“Yes. Fine.” I struggled to hide a deep breath, and in my best adult tone, continued. “It’s a nice day, let’s talk at lunch.”

She raised her eyebrows, smiled and looked into my eyes for a long moment.

“Not today, how about tomorrow?”

I let out a giant whoosh and babbled, “great!”

I dressed carefully for our lunch date. I walked into the office the next AM, strode confidently to Nora’s desk, and was relieved to find no one else there.

“12:30 OK?” I gasped nervously.

Nora nodded seemed preoccupied, and my heart sank a bit. She nodded in my direction and went on with her work. Her cleavage darkly hinted at soft hidden pleasures.

I didn’t get much done that morning. I nervously shuffled paper while watching the clock. It was driving me nuts with anticipation. I finally saw Nora stand, look back at me, wave, and point towards the front door. I nodded my understanding and followed her out a few minutes later. It was a beautiful sunny day. I suggested we get some take-out stuff and go to the lake front, a few blocks away.

At first Nora was very reserved and quiet… I asked her about her past, schooling, family, and the like, but she told me almost nothing. I tried flattery, telling her that she probably had a ton of boyfriends so it was nice of her to go to lunch with me. Ignoring my silly probe, she began to turn the table and ask me questions.

“Do you like me?”

I nodded vigorously, “A lot!”

She lowered her eyes.

“Do you, really? That’s very nice, I like you too.”

I was ecstatic!

Nora quietly but with good natured persistence asked what I thought about women and how often I dated. She startled me with her next question.

“Do you think I’m … sexy, Michael?

Like a melodramatic moron, I said “I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.. I think about you all the time.”

Nora frowned with knitted brows.

“I bet you’ve got lots of girlfriends.”

Protesting there were none, I told her that if I got an opportunity, my inexperience would leave a girl cold.

“What bullshit” she mumbled.

Seeing this as an opportunity to really talk with Nora I, tried reversing things.

“I bet you left many broken hearts behind.”

She told I’d be surprised how wrong I was. She asked more about the history that resulted in my inexperience. I related a few experiments of early puberty and embellished some sordid but truthful mini affairs.

“To be honest, Nora, I have fantasized about you many, many times.”

Nora, tilted her head, looking at me with interest, smiled and asked “What do you when you have the fantasies”

I was silent for awhile not knowing what the hell to say.

“C’mon, tell me, it’ll be OK.”

Ashamedly, I told her I masturbated.

She smiled and said “You ARE a naughty boy! (thus began her favorite term for me and no doubt an accurate appraisal of my character).

Guessing that Nora’s interest level had picked up, I apologized to her, saying I couldn’t help it. Her curiosity got the better of her.

“How can you fantasize about me? You’ve never seen … anything. I mean you’ve never seen my body.” she said haughtily. “So what do you fantasize about?”

Getting more comfortable, I explained that my imagination does the work—

“It’s the next best thing to x-ray vision.”

Nora than wanted to know what I imagined.

“What you look like naked and what we would do with each other,” I babbled. “Your clothes don’t totally hide your body or its shape.” She blushed a little then laughed.

For reasons I couldn’t then understand, I wanted to tell Nora the extent of my inexperience.

“I’ve never even had any kind of oral sex.”

Nora puzzled, looked at me intently and asked “which way?”

“Not any way or any kind for me.”

Sensing what she wanted to ask and getting extremely excited, I told Nora that I dreamed of giving her oral sex, pleasing her, seeing her nakedness. She visibly started, looking at me strangely but not disapproving. She took a very deep breath and got up to return to work. I was going to apologize when she spoke again.

“Yes, you’re quite the naughty boy, but you’re cute and I like you.”

It was a few weeks later that I had my next “social” encounter with Nora.

It occurred on a Friday evening, before the Labor Day weekend. Several employees were throwing a party for Eve, a very nice but super neurotic legal secretary leaving after many years. The event was at a very nice bar and grill a few blocks from the office. Although I was only 19, I had been served there many times and was known by the owners. I dressed carefully that morning in blazer and khakis, blue button down and striped tie. I slopped on a lot of aftershave. Would it last all day?

The party started at 5 PM. I wanted to walk over with Nora but she left with her underwriting colleagues. At the bar I quickly got a drink, (my gin and tonic era) and scanned the smoky scene. Instead of tables, the place had several easy chairs and sofas placed in intimate little settings. Each had a coffee table adequate to place food and drink

Nora was sitting in a deep easy chair alongside her boss, Ted Wise, a very nice guy, married, and not a player. I sat on the sofa opposite Nora next to the chief underwriter, Lenny, a crashing bore, very smart, but ambitionless. Nora was radiant. Her hair was a rich dark brown, long and straight, with a sheen visible in the slight dimness of the bar. I studied her. Nora’s lush mane framed her strikingly attractive face. Her light gray eyes were very clear and direct but not large. She had a narrow straight nose, her full lips coated with red gloss. She was wearing her siren- like smile– all knowing yet mysterious.

Nora’s dress was dark blue with a low cut bodice showing the beginnings of her modest cleavage and the swell of the tops of her breasts. As on all her outfits, the waist was cinched; beneath the sash, her body tapered down, the dress defining her torso, hips and thighs. The skirt reached to a few inches above her knees. As always, she wore high heels and was bare legged.

Seated on the couch, her bottom was below her legs which she had crossed right knee over left thigh. Looking above my drink as I sipped, I could see the underside of Nora’s left thigh several inches above the knee; the darkness under skirt ended my quest for more. Nora caught me leering at her. To my surprise, she crossed her legs, giving me a quick flash of pale white upper thighs, and shot me a look of amused disapproval. A beseeching wait for a rerun turned out to be futile.

Nora rose and excused herself. I got up as well (being trained in good manners and trying to impress). After she disappeared into the ladies room, I milled around, ate and had a few more drinks which made me extraordinarily courageous. Music was flowing through the smokiness and the celebrants were getting louder. There was laughter and good cheer all around but I was not with Nora.

I was elated when I spotted her standing next to Lenny, the bore, pretending interest in what was being said. Catching her eye, I quickly approached and asked her to dance. There was a small dance floor; a few of my co-workers were swaying mostly in time with the music. Apparently Nora had enough of Lenny because she agreed, telling me she hadn’t danced in a very long time. I thought thank goodness it’s a slow dance, because I’m not very good.

At 6’3″ I was taller than Nora even with heels. As we came together, she looked up at me and told me that she hadn’t realized that I was so tall “and very good looking tonight.” Flushing mightily, I thanked Nora and told her she looked beautiful. She smiled and we started to move together. The little area was crowded and I accidentally pressed into Nora and felt her breasts against my chest. They were soft and yielding yet I could feel their shape. She didn’t pull away.

Excitedly, and feeling braver, I moved my groin closer to Nora’s hips. I felt her lower belly against my stirring dick. Nora gave me the look of a disapproving teacher but smiled and said: “naughty boy.”

Before I could apologize, Nora told me it was nice looking up at a man– I started to pull her still closer when I felt her move her belly into me. My penile response was instantaneous. My cock had sprung into a complete hard-on pushing against my boxer shorts, my slacks and up against Nora’s skirt’s silky fabric. My whole consciousness was in my cock, straining in my confining shorts and feeling her firm sensual body, only a few layers of clothing separating our groins.

Amazing to me, Nora ignored my arousal and put her head on my shoulder softly humming to the music. Her lustrous clean smelling hair tickled my nose. Feeling adventurous and with Nora’s back to the group, I put my right hand on her left buttock, feeling its unrestrained firmness, and the ridge of panty hem stretching midway across the cheek of her sexy ass. Nora casually removed my hand.

“Slow down, bad boy.” she said in a throaty voice.

The song ended and Nora abruptly broke our embrace, excused herself and walked away (to the bathroom again, I noticed). I went to the john as well and entered a stall needing to inspect myself. My dick was still hard but its heat and excitation had abated a little. The head was slightly purple with veins lining the length of the shaft. My scrotum had tightened and pulled my somewhat achy balls up with it. There were small spots of dampness on my boxers but thank heavens nothing soaked through to my khakis. I wiped off with TP, washed up and returned to the party. Squinting in the smoke from across the bar, I saw Nora. She was hurriedly leaving alone. I decided it was best not to follow her.

Shortly thereafter, I returned to school as a sophomore and managed to be kept on as a semi-full time employee at the company. Nora didn’t seem to be avoiding me– we were just not getting together. One weeknight, I stuck around the office making copies for school work. I locked up and left the office and as I turned to go my car, Nora emerged from a nearby store.

“Hi” she called to me.

She looked gorgeous. We chatted a minute or two and thought, well, here goes:

“Nora… would you like to go for a drink.”

She said “OK, but I can’t stay long.”

We went to the bar where the party had been held. We sat next to each other in a dark corner. After two drinks apiece, Nora started to talk rapidly but with apparent sincerity.

“Michael, I could never have sex with you! I want you to understand that. It is not about you, I won’t have sex with anyone. Not now, perhaps not for a long time. I have my reasons. I don’t want to go into them. O.K?

I was absolutely baffled but spellbound by her face and body and listened intently.

“I’ve thought a lot about what you told me, though. I mean your sexual thoughts.” She paused and looked down into her drink, stirring with the red swizzle stick. “I found them … stimulating. I admit I found them exciting, even. I’m a little embarrassed. You know, you’re younger than me, and you’re a nice boy. Well, a nice, naughty boy, anyway.”

She giggled a little and smoothed the skirt over her thigh with long tapered fingers.

We talked for an hour or so but I can’t remember much except for me telling her that with all my most of my schooling yet to go, and because of my social and economic immaturity, there was no room for love and commitment in my life.

“Nora, I think you are a terrific person. But most of all, I really want to see you naked and I’m dying to have wild wonderful sex with you! I have to be honest.”

Hypocritically, I remember telling her I considered her my good friend. Nora looked at me, breathed a sigh of relief and jumped up, grabbed my hand, and said: “Let’s go.”

Without another word, we walked to the company parking lot and got into my car. I looked at Nora’s classical profile and asked:

“The lakefront OK?”

Nora turned towards me and with a faint smile, nodded yes.

Born and raised in that locale, I knew a very safe and private place with a dynamite view of the skyline. The car seats were the old bench type, not buckets. Nora faced me and tucked her legs up under her, the heels falling to the car’s floor. Her skirt rode up over her bare legs; several inches of bare thigh were visible to me. I felt my throat constrict and my heart start to pound. She began to tell me about herself…

… Nora was once a very religious young girl. As she matured, curiosity and hormones provided her with a liberal sexual education. It seemed that the forbidden fruit tasted delightful and she sampled many forms. Despite me pressing for the lurid details, she withdrew somewhat saying that she sometimes scares herself. She thought me a nice boy, sexy and attractive. It was fun to be with me and it gave her a feeling of control because of our age difference and her apparent sexual sophistication.

Nora told me she had been stimulated by what I had told her. I must have shown the look of someone indicating, “yeah, so–what now?” because Nora pulled me close and kissed me full the mouth. Her lips were moist and open on mine. I tasted her lip-gloss’ tart flavor and felt her tongue slither into my mouth. Unbelievable, I thought, as my all- knowing cock stiffened pointing down alongside my left thigh.