Validation
written by:
Little tommy D.

Validation

I'm going to take you back a few years to mid-1970 and relate a true story exactly as it happened to me. This came about after I received an upgrade promotion to Officer Status of the national corporation that I worked for at that time. I never ever expected to be such a lucky one because of a promotion.

The promotion I receive entitled me to a private Secretary/Assistant instead of sharing the pool as I had been doing in my previous position. I received a call from Human Resources informing me that they were reviewing their application files searching for qualified applicants for me to interview and then approve the one I felt best qualified to do the job I required. Since I had not experienced the selection of a personal secretary/assistant previously, I talked with a few of my associate officer's about what and how I should question the applicant's and then how to decide which best fit my need. I received excellent insight especially from my very closest associate who was an attorney. He advised me to establish how the applicant felt about after hours work, working through lunch hour on occasion, weekend time when necessary, and personal life--children, husband, parents or other people who could be an influence negatively or positively on the applicant's work ethics.

I had my story ready when Human Resources called with the first applicant. The job I did involved a lot of work with the Internal Revenue Service in Washington and as a result of that work, it meant I spent heavy time with our local attorneys resolving the issues that came up either by change in the law or by new laws. As an example: When The Employee Retirement Income Security Act (ERISA) was passed in 1974, our entire operation was upset because that one new law changed everything we did and I mean everything. There were more out of town trips to D. C., more involvement with our attorneys, changes in documentation, and changes in software programs just to mention a few. So, I was interested in an assistant who could handle the pressure of the changes and get the work out in a timely schedule..

I interviewed five applicants before I decided on the one that had the right background and education and a bonus was her background had no conflicts. She was single, had grown up locally, knew the basics of the job description, and had the proper surroundings with no complications obvious. She had been a recent graduate of the local college, had been an award winning gymnast--she was tiny--four foot ten, 92 pounds--and had a degree in Marketing. The perfect candidate. So, I approved Marsha and notified my contact at Human Resources. She was to start the following Monday.

The next week was spent familiarizing her with the work pattern, introducing her to my contacts and the other Secretaries in our department. She was a quick learn and within the next two weeks it was as if she had been in the job for years. She learned my habits, what my schedule would hold for her, and the time she would have to devote each day to the separate tasks to keep them flowing. I began to depend on her for more and more and as such we were thrown together an inordinate amount of time.

One afternoon, about eight months into the job, before closing time, Marsha came to my office and asked if she could spill a little of her person life on me. I sat back in my swivel chair and told her to go ahead with her news. It stunned me slightly because she had never talked seriously about a boyfriend previously. I knew she had been dating a young fellow who worked across the street from our offices but the surprise she dropped on me was that he now wanted to marry her. It was almost as if she was seeking my permission. I told her that was great especially if she felt the same way he did about being married. She nodded and said that her parents had approved and that her Dad, a prosperous local businessman had agreed to fund the affair and hold the reception at the local Sheraton Hotel. I was invited.

The shindig took place exactly one month from the day we had our talk. Her Dad didn't scrimp on expense. The dinner for 150 guests was fabulous, the open bar was pouring drinks until midnight and a grand time was had by all. At the reception line, she surprised me, and her new husband, by pulling my head down and kissing me hard on the lips. It was nice I have to admit even is slightly off-center. They took their honeymoon trip to Bermuda by ship and she returned with a glow that wasn't entirely credited to the sun she displayed from the beaches of Bermuda. She was happy and she threw herself back into her work with fervor. Her new husband had no objections to her hours because he himself had the same commitment to his job so it worked out well with them.

Things went well for nearly seven months. When Christmas season rolled around I noticed that she was down quite a bit, had no energy for shopping, and was generally lethargic much of the time. I finally called her in and told her I didn't want to mess in her personal life but I could tell there was an underlying current of unhappiness. She teared up and then grabbed a tissue from the holder on my bookcase and said, "I've wanted to talk to you for about a month but was too embarrassed to bring the subject up and ask for your opinion." Well, it seems that her new husband, a different culture from hers, viewed married life much differently than she did. He spent several nights a week playing cards and drinking with others of his culture at a private club. He saw nothing wrong with it--his Dad did it all his life as if it were an expected husband perk. She was having a difficult time coming to grips with that dictate.

I really didn't know what to say to her because there was no way I could change the history of the culture the husband lived under. I commiserated with her and told her that I would do whatever I could to help. She leaned forward slightly and said, "Could you and I go to lunch every now and then. I need someone to talk to who knows me better than the other women I work with here. I don't feel comfortable telling them my tales of woe. I feel easy around you and know that you won't gossip about my troubles." I told her that we could have lunch together anytime she felt the need. She let out a deep breath, thanked me for listening and being so understanding. She went back to her desk and I sat thinking about what little I knew of her husband. Not much. Small like her, confident to the point of near arrogant, smart, well dressed, successful, but that's all I knew. I had no idea of his opinion of women, wives, children, friends, relatives or even neighbors. But if I could believe Marsha, it didn't seem to be one of a friendly and accepting personality.

About two weeks later on a Tuesday morning Marsha buzzed me on the phone and asked to have lunch with me if I wasn't otherwise obligated. I told her that I was free and that we could leave at 12:30 and wouldn't eat in the company dining room, we would go to a nearby quaint, quiet, secluded seafood restaurant that I favored. She said she had never been there but that if I liked it it was an okay lunch spot for her. We left at twelve twenty and was at the table at 12; 30. The waiter knew me, greeted me by name and that impressed Marsha. I asked what she wanted to drink and she looked a me inquiringly and I nodded while I ordered a vodka martini with three olives. She happily opted for a Mimosa, pleased that we didn't have to accept the normal weak iced tea. With two drinks apiece and lunch behind us we lingered without dessert. She put her hand on mine and said, "Is it permissible for me to confess some intimate personal information that has me uptight?" I looked into her eyes and saw that she was pleading for release to someone who could just listen and not judge what she had to say. I nodded as I answered with a quiet yes.

She lowered her voice, put her hand over mine and then said, "My sex life is the pits for lack of a better description. Hal expects me to blow him when we have sex but he won't reciprocate. He said that my vagina is nasty and he wouldn't put his tongue against its lips no matter what. It makes me so mad I want to bite his dick off when he presses my face down to his hard-on. When I resist he gets angry and pulls my hair until I put his dick in my mouth. I want to throw up put I'm scared I'll choke when he cums if I'm upchucking."

Whew! I didn't expect that graphic description and it shook me somewhat. I think she could see my shock and she leaned toward me and said, "Sorry to be so blunt but I needed to say that to someone. Heaven forbid that I bring that up with Mom or Dad and I have no siblings to confide in, so I needed to tell someone I trust and you were it."

I squeezed her hand and said, "I'm fine with you telling me. It's just that I didn't expect you to be that blunt so it staggered me a little by your vivid description. I'm sorry that I can't be of more help but that is such a personal dilemma that only the two you can handle. But it seems as if his mind is closed to change or any other options."

"Yes, and that's the problem. He won't bend or even sanely discuss his attitude about going down on me. Truthfully I'm at the stage that I'm fearful of bringing it up because the way he pulls my hair could easily turn into a fist in the face. I know that has happened in his family. But I want to thank you for listening and consoling me and that means more than you can imagine. I just need to unload before I explode." I patted her hand and said, "Anytime. I have good ears and a closed mouth." She smiled and picked up her purse ready to leave.

A week has gone by and I've noticed that she is wearing a few new clothes. I complimented her on an outstanding outfit she wore the next morning and she smiled and said, "The West City Mall has a new shop that specializes in sizes 1-2-3 that my Mom discovered. She was so happy to find one locally that she took me shopping for some new clothes that she paid for to help cheer me up. It did. I'm glad you noticed and approved of what we picked out. You'll see some more new ones as I begin to break them in little by little." I tapped her on the shoulder as I said, "I'm looking forward to seeing you wear them. I'll keep my eyes open."

Two days later, she was working diligently at her worktable sorting documents to include in three-ring notebooks binders for a class I was set to teach the following week. I had an unblocked view through my office door at the table where she was working. It was summer, warm, and she had worn one of the new outfits that had a cream colored skirt with a darker shade of cocoa for the top. She came from the print shop with an arm load of documents, sat them on a chair and began inserting them into the binders. She had to reach a goodly way to insert the papers into the binders on the back row. I was on the phone casually watching her work when I sat up quickly and peered directly at her. She had raised up on her tiptoes, leaned to the back row of binders and her short skirt pulled upwards exposing her firm little ass that was covered in sheer white panties. I could see the crack of her ass clearly through the sheer material and my heart quickened, my dick grew hard and I couldn't remove my eyes from the view of her neat, tight, and highly appealing rounded ass. I could easily visualize me as I let my tongue run through her crack and to let it end at the lips of her sopping hot pussy. My culture was one of eating delicious pussies when I had the opportunity. My next question was--will I get the opportunity to eat her pussy in place of her husband? My God I loved that thought. But I wouldn't bring it up--no way! You know the rule--no dipping your pen in the company ink.

Over the next two weeks I let her share the turmoil she was having with Hal. He was drinking more, angered quickly over the most minor of dislikes and was spending more time at the private club. At lunch one day she told me that her Mother told her that if she was truly worried about him becoming violent that she could move into an apartment in one of the apartment buildings her Dad owned. She was considering the idea of moving out of the house and the apartment offer solidified her thinking. At the end of March she told me that Hal had moved out of the house and was living with his brother. She had an attorney and was going to file for divorce once the movers had completed her move to the apartment. She expected a battle over what she moved to her new place and was preparing herself for facing him over the property.

In the meantime, she came to me one Friday just after lunch and asked if I had any plans for the evening. I shook my head and asked, "What do you have in mind?"

She didn't hesitate when she replied, "The Meadow Inn on highway 1 at the intersection of 216 has an orchestra that plays music from the 30's and 40's. No rock and roll. Just calm and danceable music. If you'd like, you could meet me there at 7:30 and we could spend the evening dancing. And, if you should be interested you could book a room." She winked, turned and went back to work. Was she kidding? Am I interested? Is Israel still Jewish? Does Santa still wear a red suit? You're damn right I was interested. Just the thought made my dick twitch in my pants. I went to my desk, looked up the number of the hotel in the phone book--remember, this was the mid-70's so no Google or cell phones--called and booked a room for the night. I was antsy all the rest of the day. I stopped at the pharmacy on the way home to change and bought a three-pack of condoms (Rubbers back then).

She left work before me. I drove from the pharmacy in record time. I stripped, hit the shower, shaved again, checked my dick and balls, trimmed a few long pubic hairs especially from the balls, used fresh after-shave and cologne and dressed in Friday evening casual wear. I pocketed the condoms, got in the car and headed for highway 1 south.

I checked in, got the room keys and went to the bar. She was there at a table for two. When I arrived at the table she stood, gave me a quick kiss and handed me a vodka martini with thee olives. I touched my glass to hers, gave her a killer smile and we sat. She ginned and said, "The music starts at eight. We have to move next door to the ballroom by then."

I sipped the martini and responded, "We can have our next round in the ballroom. Did you start a tab?"

She shook her head and said, "No, I paid because I wasn't certain what we'd do after the first. We're clean to go anytime." I took her hand, pulled slightly to urge her to rise and when she did I said, "Let's go select a choice spot before they're all gone." She nodded with a smile and a lift up from her chair.

When we entered the ballroom, there may have been six couples waiting for the music to start. I spotted the perfect table, in a corner, near a wide post where we could talk, fidget, and get intimate if the need arose and not be on display to anyone else. When we were comfortably seated, a short-skirted blonde came to the table, told us her name was Sherry and that she would be taking care of our needs for the evening. I ordered another round, gave her my room number and watcher her neat little fanny sashay across the floor to the bar. Marsha hit me on the arm and said jokingly, "Am I going to have to compete with her butt all evening?" I laughed and said, "No but that would be an interesting competition. It would be one competition that I would gladly participle in all evening long."

Marsha took my hand as she leered at me and said, "So you like little asses on women huh? Is that what turns you on?"

I figured that that moment was as good as any other so I pulled her closer across the small round table and said, "Let me tell you an interesting story about being turned on. Remember about two or three weeks ago when you were using the table to assemble the training books? You had the inserts in a chair and two rows of binders spread on the table?"

"Yeah, I remember doing the binders. Why?"

"You wore one of your new outfits. It was the cream skirt with the cocoa top. The skirt is a mini and when you reached to put the inserts in the back binders, you were on your tiptoes, I was on the phone watching you and when you leaned toward the back binders, your skirt came up over your ass. You had on sheer see-through white panties and I was looking right into the crack of your ass. My heartbeat doubled, my dick was raging hard and I was breathless watching you display your assets. I wanted to attack you then and there but knew better than to even mention it at the time."

I looked at her, she was blushing and had a wicked smile on her face. I shook my head and said, "What are you thinking?"

"About how jealous the other women on the floor would have been if you had jerked my panties down and fucked me while I was bent over the table. They're jealous of me anyway because I work for you. I think the entire lot would drop their drawers if you so much as looked at them the way you've looked at me tonight. It's a good thing you don't work with the other ladies, and I use the term ladies loosely."

"You're kidding right? They're not that horny are they. All but one is married."

"What does that mean? I'm still married and you're here with me in hiding behind the post."

"Okay, I didn't want us to be seen in the event one of your relations or someone from the office appeared. It wouldn't look kosher for us to draw attention to ourselves considering-your pending divorce. It could be used against you! Especially the way you kissed me in the reception line at your wedding reception."

"Well, yes, you're right but know that I'm not complaining, just pointing out the fallacy of your argument. I think of it as a Validation."

"How do you get that word? What does that mean?"

"We all wanted to be wanted. We all want to be loved, held close, touched tenderly, and become a part of someone else. Most of those women are like me. Their husbands generally ignore them most of the time. The men watch ball games, go to races, play cards and do everything else but pet their wives. The wives miss that and they resent being put aside therefore they would be eager to drop their drawers if you whispered in their ear that you wanted to fuck them. It's a validation of our worth to our partner. If we aren't validated we become resentful and go looking for someone to validate us. It's that simple."

"Holy shit! It never crossed my mind that women thought like that about their relationships. What you said makes all the sense in the world. Men look for validation in other places like their work. They want promotions, praise, raises and that makes us validated. This has been a great eye-opener for me. I'm glad you invited me to be with you tonight."

"You're welcome but I wanted to be with you because, dammit, I'm attracted to you, that's my entire reason. I'm not usually as bold as I've been with you especially the intimate parts and the language I've used. That really isn't me but it's the desperate me looking for Validation of myself."

Just as she finished her sentence Sherry came with the drinks and the band took the stage and began to warm up. We let the first dance go by but when the second song started, I took her hand and pulled her to the middle of the dance floor. She ignored the traditional stance for waltzes and hung both hands around my neck and got as close to my body as she could. The top of her head barely reached my shoulders and the closeness felt good with her body moving against mine. I wanted to regret what we were doing but just couldn't muster the conscience to push back against the desire.

We danced most of the dances. We were slightly tipsy from the drinks so we sat one dance out. It just so happened to be the last dance before the band took a break. Sitting at the table, she took the last sip of her drink, took my hand and said, it's ten. I've danced enough for the night. Let's go to the room."

We took the elevator to the fourth floor, hooked a left and went to the end room that overlooked the highway intersection. She shed the light long-sleeved top she had worn, went to the bathroom and closed the door. I sat in the easy chair and waited. She came out in a few minutes, a smile on her face when she saw me in the chair, so she came over and jumped in my lap, pulled my head to her lips and planted one passionate kiss on me. She pulled back from my lips and said, "Just so you aren't totally disappointed I want you to know in advance that being as small as I am I have tiny tits. Now that I've said it, I am going to show you. She unbuttoned one button and let the blouse drop from her arms to the arm of the chair behind her. She had no bra on to impede my view. I was breathless again.

I looked at the pointed stiff nipples and the large rosy aureoles that covered almost half of her tits. I put her warm left tit in my palm and felt the tender flesh of youth. I pinched the nipple slightly and said, "I don't know why you were concerned. They're exactly the right size for my hand and the firmness is awesome." She grinned, stood up from my lap and leaned forward and said, "So it's time for you to take a taste and experience what I'm made of."

I put my face forward, engulfed her left tit in my mouth and sucked as I let my tongue swirl around the stiff nipple. She threw her head back and moaned as she said under her breath "I've waited too long for you to do that to me. I think I'm ready to cum from just you sucking my tit."

I said, "They taste so sweet, so delicate and so right in my mouth." I quickly stood and began to undress her. When she was in the bathroom she had shed her underwear so when I removed her skirt she was totally naked in front of me. For a little person she had a massive amount of dark black heavy pubic hair covering her pussy. This was before women learned to shave their pussy. I could not see a hint of her lips, no pink showing. I easily picked her up, carried her to the bed and at her on the edge. I pulled the comforter down and spread her out in the center of the bed. I stood there and dropped my clothes in the floor after removing the condoms from my pocket. I dimmed the lights and crawled in beside her. I kissed her again this time the passion being from me. I was fondling her right tit this time and I sucked the left one again as she squirmed and fidgeted under me. I kissed my way to her navel, rimmed it with my tongue and continued to follow the thin, barely visible hair line down her abdomen and to the top of her Mound of Venus. I moved to the center of her and spread her legs open. When I had them fully apart I spotted the pink center that exposed her inner lips. It glistened with wetness. It was the most inviting thing I had seen in months. I kissed my way up her right thigh and when I reached the glory gate and gently touched her lips with the tip my tongue she had her first orgasm. I didn't stop. I put my hands over her abdomen, used my nose to part the heavy pubic hair and I diligently went to work on her heavily wet and very tasteful pussy.

When she had recovered her breathing, I turned her over and began kissing her sweet ass. I ran my tongue through the crack, went back and tasted her asshole which set her off in a trembling rage with her legs jerking and her ass heaving upwards toward my tongue. She raised her head and said, "That's heavenly. No one has ever done that to me. I love it!" Well, I did also but it was time to return to the object of the evening--her pussy. I turned her back over, put her knees in the air near my rib cage and went to work inside her vagina and on her clit. Within five minutes she was heaving her pussy upwards as I clamped my tongue on her clit and let it roll. She grabbed my hair, screamed a little too loud and began her second orgasm while I merely sucked the wetness from her pussy savoring the sweetness of her taste and consistency of her flowing juices.

I let her calm down, reached under the pillow and retrieved the condoms. I opened the pack and when I did, I laughed. I rolled it down my dick and rolled her head for her to see it on me. I hadn't paid attention to what I bought thinking all condoms were all alike. Nope, I had bought a three pack of different colors and the one I was wearing was coal black just like the hair on her pussy. She looked up at me and then burst out laughing along with me. I leaned down to her and said, "Should I go with Blue or the Green?" She cracked up and said, "No, I prefer the black and what I really prefer is to feel it inside me right now"

I slid between her uplifted knees and slid my black dick through the black hair and into the wetness of her pussy. She grabbed me around the shoulders and hugged me tightly to her tits as she said, "Faster and harder especially faster." I sped up the movement of my ass as I pumped my happy dick in and out as hard as I could. But that has consequences because within minutes I had filled the condom with my load of warm sticky cum. That didn't cause me to stop as I continued to fuck with all my might. I must have taken another five minutes before I could cum again. When the spurting ceased with the second Cumming, I stopped and pulled out because the condom was so full it was leaking around the top. When I rose up she suddenly sat up and shouted, "Let me remove it. I want to see your cum." She reached up and took my dick in her hand and pulled the condom down as it leaked into her hand.

It was messy because it had two loads leaking out and she looked at me and said, "My God you were full." I shook my head and told her, "Not really. I cum twice before I had to stop because of the leaking."

She looked at me and with wide eyes said, "You stayed that hard after you cum the first time? That was amazing hardness. I never imagined that you could last that hard through two complete fucks."

She had put the condom in the palm of her left hand. It had filled her small hand and was ready to drip on the bed. She scooted to the side and ran to the bathroom. I head the toilet flush, she came out with a towel wiping her hands and handed me a damp wash cloth so that I could clean my dick. After I cleaned it off, I went to the mini-bar and took out two beers and opened them. She sat her on the night stand, patted the bed beside her and had me lay down. She put my head on a pillow, took the other pillow and had me lift my ass from the bed and put the pillow under me. I was relaxed and enjoying the beer when I felt her take my dick in her hand and begin to pet it. It felt so good to be relaxed after a fantastic fuck especially with her petting on my dick and fondling my balls. The beer was making me drowsy and then I felt my muscles droop when the tension left them. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed what was happening.

She didn't stop with the petting until my dick began to rise and stand on its own. She cupped my balls in one hand, leaned over me and began sucking my dick ever so slowly, ever so tenderly. She continued her playing with my ball and sucking my dick until I felt the constriction in my scrotum, my balls sucked upwards into my pelvis and within seconds I began to cum in her mouth but that didn't slow her or stop her. She sucked and swallowed every last drop that I could muster the third time. Only when I was dry did she sidle up next to me and say, "I had a hint of olive in your semen. That made the taste so pleasant. Did you enjoy it?"

"More than you would ever understand. Thanks for the volunteer effort."

We lay like that for a while and then I realized we had been asleep for almost two hours. I shook her awake and said, "We need to leave. It's getting on toward three A. M. You had said you couldn't stay the night."

She rolled back against me, took my dick in her hand and began jacking on it. I just lay there waiting to see what she had in mind. She dropped her head between my legs and sucked my left ball inside her warm mouth and that greatly assisted her in making my dick hard and ready again. She leaned my ear and said to me, "I think the blue will do this time."

I turned to the nightstand, opened the blue one. she grabbed it and swiftly rolled it down my dick. She quickly turned, raised up and was on her hands and knees as she whispered, "Let's play doggies this time. And put your finger in my ass when you fuck me."

I followed her orders. I got behind her and found her to be already wet. My blue dick slid easily into her damp pussy, I put my left middle finger in her asshole and slow fucked her with no frenzy this time. She was pushing hard against me to get as much of my dick inside her pussy as possible. I have to say I fucked and fucked but I couldn't cum again and she wasn't near orgasm, so we mutually agreed to end that fuck and save it for later. She turned and jerked the condom from my dick and said, "I may keep this one as a souvenir." I laughed lightly as I pictured it hanging on the wall beside her bed.

She went to the bathroom to retrieve her underwear and then we dressed. I walked her to her car and watched as she made it to the highway. I got in my car and took the long route home shaking the guilt of dipping my black-clad pen in the company ink but I was remembering all the pleasure I had that night and regretting that it had to end. All I knew was she had the sweetest pussy and tastiest tits in my memory.