Technically You are Still a Virgin...

When you first glanced at her face, Shari looked like she was fresh out of middle school instead of a twenty-year-old woman. Standing a petite five-feet, she had a pretty Chinese face that was framed with straight jet-black hair that fell to the middle of her back. When she giggled, her almond-shaped eyes twinkled, her cute nose wrinkled, and her sweet diminutive mouth beamed with an infectious smile. Shari was a breath of Spring air -- pure, sweet, and refreshing.

Shari was someone whom you would want to be with especially when your eyes traveled from her face, and you discovered that she had one hell of a body. Her bodacious 30C breasts projected robustly from her diminutive frame, and were devastating when combined with her flat soft stomach, curved firm buns, and nice slender legs. When wearing the tight-fitting tops, short skirts, and high-heels favored by today's younger women, Shari was a virtual male-magnet.

Most women would have found masculine attention desirable, but for Shari, it presented certain difficulties due to her upbringing. She was an orphan whose closest relatives had her raised in a strict Catholic all-girls' boarding school rather than deal with her. Apart from the visiting fathers of her classmates, the only male in her life was the old (very old) parish priest. His liver-spotted wrinkled skin, tired watery eyes, thinning gray hair, and bad breath were all she recalled of his sermons and subsequent confessions.

While the priest left Shari with unfavorable impression, it was the nuns that really warped her concept of males. Their often exaggerated and negative views of men greatly influenced an impressionable Shari about the masculine gender and what its members wanted.

"When my classmates and I began displaying the telltale signs of puberty -- especially me because of you know what -- the nuns went into high-alert mode. The sisters' warnings went from cautionary advice to tales of dire woe. Any gossip or speculation about 'boys' and whispers of 'doing it' that arose in casual girlish conversations, were met with severe punishment if overheard by a nun, or used as a topic of classroom ridicule or forewarning.

"The nuns lectured us continuously that there were only two things that we needed to learn and remember as virtuous Catholic girls. The first lesson was that men were beasts at heart with only one thing on their minds -- sex -- and more sex with wanton women of loose morals and harlots. The second lecture was that premarital fornication was a sin for which we would most certainly burn in hell. No matter what the promises made, 'good' Catholic girls maintained their virginity until it was surrendered to their lawfully wedded husbands on their wedding night."

With such a distorted view of men, it was little wonder that Shari entered adulthood with a great deal of trepidation. She couldn't understand why in heaven's name members of the opposite sex swarmed to her like bees to honey -- not realizing that they were male bees -- each with a stinger that each wanted to stick into her nubile body. Everyone from the business vendors, salesmen, warehouse boys, and to the drivers buzzed around Shari's desk, intrigued by her sweet innocence and equally by her obvious abundance of physical delights. As the guys vied like bulls for a prized young heifer. the level of male testosterone in the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

At first such attention was surprising and then flattering to Shari. She even accepted a few casual invitations from the younger and handsomer guys. However, Shari was alarmed when her disarmingly charming dates soon became hot and heavy, expecting premarital liberties. When she refused their advances, the spurned guys began excusing their inability to score by calling her a "cock-teaser" which confused and hurt her. It was at this point that I entered Shari's life.

My name is Henry, and I am Shari's boss at a small distribution company. I hired her when my old-time clerk, Meg, decided to retire and recommended Shari as her replacement. Meg was a member of the church parish that was affiliated with the boarding school that Shari had attended. She had met Shari as a student, and was pleased that Shari continued to work in the school's thrift shop after her graduation. A few inquiries indicated that Sheri was highly recommended by the school's sisters as a virtuous but capable young lady.

While I found Shari to be pleasant and cute at first, I had some serious doubts if she could do the job because she looked so damn young. But, after a week on her first job, Shari demonstrated a business sense way beyond her years. She easily fit into the day-to-day operations and seemed to have a future with the company.

However, while Shari demonstrated a professional acumen, her on-going male-female interactions perplexed and thoroughly distressed her. Depressed by the expectations and rumors about her, she didn't know how to cope with the many guys who hovered around her. As a result, her work suffered, and my company's operations were adversely impacted. That's when I decided to step in and take Shari under my wing -- and as time would later have it, under my loving care.

As the boss, I greatly reduced Shari's admirers and suitors by moving her work desk next to mine. After subjecting her male visitors to my watchful eye and some gruff "What are you doing here?" questions, Shari's suitors quickly dissipated. With her immediate masculine distraction gone, I began explaining to Shari the facts of life that seemed to have eluded her. As we talked, I was shocked to find just how naïve Shari was and that she was totally unaware of her effect on men.

"Shari, you're an attractive young woman. Besides your pleasant personality, you have certain physical 'attributes' that turn on men. That's why all those guys were buzzing around you."

"I do? You think I'm attractive? I never thought of myself as...I mean, I didn't mean to..." a shocked Shari blurted as she blushed a vivid crimson. "I'm just being me, and trying to be friendly with everyone. Honestly, it's not like I'm deliberately trying to attract anyone, especially the attention of men."

"To be honest with you, Shari, your clothing while extremely feminine and youthful, really emphasize your ample bosom, tight buns, and nice legs way too much. Shari, have you ever wondered why there is a cluster of men at the bottom of the office stairs each morning? You haven't? Well, Shari, this may come as a surprise but they're all waiting for you to ascend the stairs so that they can look up your short skirts."

"What? Ewww...that's gross!" a truly shocked Shari exclaimed. "You mean that they can see...have seen...my panties? Oh sweet Mary, I'm not a 'strumpet' -- one of those loose and shameless women whom the nuns say parade themselves before men. Oh, Henry, I never knew... what can I do?"

"Well, fortunately you can change that erroneous perception about you. Here's what you need to do..." Heeding my advice immediately, Shari began wearing loose blouses that displayed as little skin and chest as possible. Much to the dismay of the men who used to linger at the bottom of the stairs, slacks replaced her short skirts, and the loitering men quickly vanished.

When Shari felt more comfortable about not attracting unwanted male attention, she and I settled in to a comfortable work pattern and developing partnership. As we worked side by side, we got to know each other with our discussions often about life outside of the confines of her Catholic boarding school and her uneasiness with the world in general.

"Henry, please don't laugh," Shari pleaded as she explain her upbringing, "but, I feel uncomfortable when you mention my 'physical attributes.' I guess I don't really feel comfortable when men react to my body because I really don't feel comfortable with my own body.

"You don't know what it's like to have small nipple mounds one day and then have your breasts balloon seemingly overnight. Or, have your once-baby smooth...errr, 'down-there'... suddenly start sprouting dark silky hair. And when I had my first monthly period, I was so shocked at the cramping and bleeding that I thought I was dying. When I asked, the nuns who referred to my menses as the "curse" -- a reference to Eve who gave into temptation and was cast from the Garden of Eden. They warned me that the same could happen to me if I gave in to any urges of my maturing body."

"Shari, the nuns gave you a 'distorted' view of the way things are," I casually mentioned, contradicting her earlier teachings. "As I said before, you have a natural beauty that you should not be ashamed of. You have a young sensuous body that many women would be envious of. You just have to learn to accept your attractiveness and that any man around you cannot help but think of you in a sexual way. It's a perfectly natural thing, Shari."

Then before I could continue, Shari anxiously asked, "Henry, do you find me sexually attractive?"

Now don't get me wrong, I was not immune to the "Shari effect." I am a forty-five-year-old, a double-divorcee who has been around the block more times than I'd like to remember. Although Shari's physical charms didn't influence my decision to hire her, the more we worked together, the more attractive she became. Fortunately, I had a guiding principle when it came to office romances.

"Shari," I shared in responding to her question, "I find you extremely attractive. However, I have a motto when it comes to workplace affairs: 'Dip your pen as often as you like, but not in the company inkwell.'"

It took a while for Shari to figure out my "pen and inkwell" analogy -- that my cock was the "pen" and her pussy as my female employee being the forbidden company "inkwell." But when she did, it dawned on her that she was "safe" with me, and her goal of remaining a virgin until married was not at risk as our relationship evolved.

From that point on Shari seemed to really relax around me, and I became that long-absent masculine influence in her life. With each passing day, Shari trusted me more and more, asking about people and the world in gender. She blossomed before my very eyes and despite our gender and vast age differences, became comfortably close to me, as I was with her.

A three-day-weekend, however, would forever change our relationship. You see, besides work and Shari, my passion was sailing. I was planning to sail over the holiday to this special little island and anchor in a secluded cove to fish and relax. I was surprised when Shari asked, "Henry, can I come along too? I've never been on a boat, and it'll be an adventure. Please?"

Taken aback, I stammered that my boat didn't have a lot of amenities and we'd be roughing it. But, this just added to Shari excitement as she chuckled, "I don't mind, if you don't mind." Against my better judgment, I couldn't refuse so I told her to pack her swimsuit because we'd be sailing with the early morning tide. Little did I know what an adventure our outing would turn out to be.

Shari was there at the dock slip first thing in the morning with an overnighter bag and big smile. I had to take a mental step-back when she boarded my boat wearing a cut-off t-shirt that was tightly stretched over her large breasts and flaunted her bare stomach. Her short shorts amply displayed her pleasing legs and the curve of her cute butt. All in all, Shari was one hell of a stunning young Chinese woman. I realized much too late that spending the next few days in the close quarters of my small sailboat would seriously tax my self-restraint.

For a novice sailor, Shari took to the sea and my sailboat like an old hand. Without a hint of seasickness, she took the helm once we were on the open sea as I went below to put together a light lunch. Lunch was simple sandwiches and my special vodka-Collins mix which Shari liberally imbibed in despite my warnings not to.

By the time we anchored in the early afternoon, the pristine blue waters of the cove called to us. I suggested that we take a quick dip, and Shari who was feeling good and loose by then, stood up and began stripping. I nearly choked on my drink when Shari stood before me in one hell of an itsy-bitsy yellow string bikini. Her rather amble bosom was barely contained and would have oozed from under her top's triangle cups if she hadn't tied her top on securely. To complicate matters, Shari's bikini bottom, while covering her pussy, did a rather "half-ass" job covering her rounded butt cheeks.

Noticing my surprised reaction, Shari hastily stammered, "Sorry, Henry, but we didn't have much need for swimsuits at the orphanage. And since I didn't have a swimsuit, I had to borrow one from my roommate. She a little...well, a lot 'smaller' than me...if you know what I mean."

I just laughed and to Shari's chagrin, finally said, "Well, thank God, you got one, or you'd have to go skinny dipping."

We swam and free-dived for a while, and then I climbed back on the boat to get dinner ready. Shari grabbed hold of the boat rail and started to haul herself aboard. However, she didn't realize that the water had loosened the strings of her bikini. When she heaved herself over the rail, her tiny bikini which had done such a valiant job constraining her generous boobs, failed miserably.

Shari was mortified as her huge creamy white boobs literally surged out of her bikini top to be fully exposed and swaying freely. Blushing lividly, she quickly scrambled on board and unsuccessfully tried to stuff her heavy breasts with her uncooperative teeny top.

"Don't look, Henry! Ooh, please don't look! I'm so embarrassed! Ooh, I could simply die," Shari sobbed in her humiliation, huddling against the rail with her back to me.

"Shari, why are you crying?" I asked as she gave up trying to put on her top. "I'm not offended and don't think any less of you. As I have said often, you have a natural beauty and shouldn't be ashamed of your body. Turn around, Shari, and look at me." Slowly she stopped crying and raised her downcast Asian eyes. "Look Shari, there's no sense 'crying over spilled milk.' I've seen your breasts. And that's not something I'm likely to forget -- not that I'd ever wanted to. So, stop your crying."

Then emboldened by the consumed alcohol and a throbbing in my trunks, I somehow managed to casually said, "Actually, from what I've seen, I think you should be proud of your boobs. There is an old saying, 'If you got them, flaunt them.' Shari, you've got big beautiful tits. They're the best that I've already seen.

"Look, Shari, it's just you and me...so don't hide them... show them off. I won't tell anyone and definitely won't think of you as a...what's that word...oh yeah, a strumpet. Let me see them again. Go on, Shari, show me your breasts."

At first Shari hesitated, and then she finally lowered her shielding hands to her lap as she knelt before me. Her youthful breasts were magnificent -- full and firm, projecting out with just enough heft to hang but not enough to sag. Each was topped with quarter-sized areola from which a stiff ruby-red nipple jutted.

"They're simply stunning -- no, unbelievably wonderful," I muttered as she rose, her hands clasped nervously in front of her like a shy schoolgirl. Her arms inadvertently squished her large tits together and caused them to project and jiggle even more. "Shari," I said as she stood, "from what I see you have nothing to be embarrassed of.

"I'll be honest with you -- I could get used to a certain cute young Chinese woman, prancing topless around my boat all the time. However, you'd better put on your bikini top before I suffer a heart attack from too much visual excitement."

At first Shari looked at me perplexed at my compliment, and then giggled so much that her already enticing boobs quivered provocatively. Then to my utter surprise, Shari just smiled and then nonchalantly but with a bit of sassiness, went about helping me get dinner together but sans her bikini top.

However, by the time night fell, Shari's snow-white skin on her tits was the vivid cherry blossom pink of sunburn. While generous refills of the vodka-Collins had greatly numbed her inhibitions, they didn't do enough to lessen the pain of her sensitive skin. Fortunately, I had a tube of lotion that would ease of her misery, and without being asked, began applying the lotion to her shoulders, back, and the backs of her legs in my boat's cabin.

"Oh my god, Henry," Shari emitted a deep sigh of relief as she stretched out in my cabin bed to let me take care of the back of her legs, "That feels great...so good."

Shari then flipped over and nonchalantly displayed her large boobs that trembled so temptingly. While I applied a liberal coating to her legs, arms, stomach, and upper chest, when I got to her tantalizing breasts, I hesitated to go any further. "Shari, I think you should apply the lotion to your chest."

Whining childishly, Shari reached up and clasped me behind the neck. Before I knew it, she had pulled me down to her inviting lips. "Oh, Henry, stop being so silly," Shari muttered as she lightly pecked my lips, "I know you won't do anything I don't want you to, right? Besides, I thought you like my boobies."

When I still hesitated, Shari whimpered in a little girl's voice, "Please, Henry, my titties hurt so much." As I struggled to reinforce my quickly crumbling resolution, Shari sighed and sniggering at my obvious discomfort before taking matters into her own hands. Making me squirt a large glob of lotion on her tits, she then grabbed my wrists to press my palms to her substantial bosom.

I know I shouldn't have, but I could help but slowly massaged the full softness of each mound, kneading them and letting them slip slowly between my grasp. "Your breasts are so incredibly soft and yet firm. They're fantastic and you should be proud of them."

Sheri mewled soft murmurs of pleasure when my fingers drift lightly over her protruding meaty nipples before rolling between my thumbs and forefingers. I pressed her thick nipples back into her spongy flesh to playfully squish them in her softness, before letting them pop out longer and harder.

"Oh, Jeez, Henry, don't stop," Shari whimpered when I lightly kissed and then earnestly suckled her erect nipples, "I didn't know that it would feel like this...oh...don't stop...oh... you're making me so hot...oh yes...so wet. Ooh, I never knew it could be so good! Ooh... God...how I really want you...ooh! Oh, how I wish I hadn't take that vow of chastity!"

"Well, Shari, there is a way you can still keep your vow," I uttered as let her harden nipple slip from my grasping lips to wallow in the valley of her boobs, licking back and forth. "If you trust me..."

Grabbing my head and pulling my head back to peer into my eyes, Shari groaned, "Of course I trust you, Henry! Do you think I go topless all afternoon and get one hell of a sun burn if I didn't? I'm lying here nearly naked with you, aren't I? Do you think I'd let you feel my boobs if I didn't? Of course, I trust you..."

"Good, then lay back and enjoy this." I paved a hot, wet trail of lips, tongue, and teeth between the valley of her boobs, across the flatness of her stomach, and into the delta of her inner thighs. To make a long story short, I stripped and ate Shari's pussy like I've never eaten a cunt before. Tongue-fucking the entrance of her virgin love-hole, I slurped her gushing nectar before furiously suckling her throbbing clit.

Groaning with undisguised lust, Shari lifted her hips to repeatedly thrust herself into my face. By her lewd gyration and uncontrollable trembling, I knew that she was on the brink of one hell of an orgasm. In hopes of pushing her over the edge, I shoved a finger well-lubricated in her sexual juices into her puckered asshole. Shari exploded immediately in the very first climax of her young life, convulsing wildly and screaming vulgar obscenities that would make a drunken sailor blush.