Flying Ant Day

I don’t normally write about my own experiences, mostly because I have a really bad memory, but also because a lot of my life has been quite painful and I don’t enjoy remembering it. I’ve not had a bad life, as such, but it has been tough at times. So, I’m not a person who spends a lot of time reminiscing about what I was doing years ago.

However, occasionally something will spark me off thinking about an episode from my past and I can’t stop thinking about it. Andrew, the therapist I have been talking to, said that writing down memories that I’m struggling with can be helpful, so I thought I would give it a try.

I work from home most days, and I’m usually finished by about four o’clock in the afternoon. I like to start and finish work early. I had finished work for the day one afternoon this week, and it was very hot and sunny outside. I had been stuck in my office all day so I thought I would go and sit in the back garden and have a drink and enjoy the sunshine. I took a can of Lemon Fanta from the fridge and went and opened the back door.

To my surprise, the flag stones on the patio looked like they were moving. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but when I looked closer I realised the patio was completely crawling with ants. Big ants too, a lot of them with wings. I watched for a moment, fascinated but also with a bit of a creepy feeling. I’m not scared of little bugs, but there were literally thousands of them. Millions maybe. No, that’s an exaggeration. But there were a lot of them. There is an ant nest under our lawn, and they had decided to take flight that day

I did not go out onto the patio, I didn’t want to step on the little buggers and I also didn’t want them crawling all over me, so I just stood by the back door and drank my drink while I watched them taking off. They would scutter around and occasionally, one of them would spread his wings and clumsily take to the air. There was a swarm of them buzzing around the garden and flying away in all directions, on their mission to procreate. Nature is really weird when you think about it, or see it in action.

Watching them reminded me of something that happened a long time ago, probably about twenty years ago. So, for what it’s worth, here is what I remember of flying ant day when I was still a teenager.

I had just started my first real job, a job in an office that I had to wear a shirt with a collar for and smart trousers. I was nineteen years old and I had left school the previous year after finishing my A levels. I was excited about having a permanent job where I would work in an office, as all my previous jobs had been temporary placements in warehouses or factories. The money wasn’t too bad either.

I was a treasury assistant. Just a clerk’s job really, a lot of data entry, and the work was quite boring But, I enjoyed it. To be honest, what made it most worthwhile was that I was sat next to Yasmin.

Yasmin was the purchase ledger team leader, and she was absolutely stunning. She was tall, almost as tall as me, maybe even a bit taller when she wore heels. And she had long, curly blonde hair. She was one of those women who always put on a full face of makeup to come to the office. She always looked immaculate.

She was the best looking woman in the office. Not that she had a lot of competition. Most of the other women who worked in there over fifty, and although I didn’t mind women a little bit older than me, I was not attracted to them on principle because of their age. A teenage boy who fancies a woman in her fifties is a weirdo. One who fancies a woman in her twenties is just horny.

The only other young lady who was employed there was Clara, who worked in the post room, and although she was cute, she was also flat-chested and a lesbian. So, during working hours, all of my sexual desire was concentrated on Yasmin, the beauty who sat at the desk next to mine.

Yasmin had very large breasts. When I first started working in the office, just after Easter, I tried my best not to stare at them. I didn’t want to come across as creepy. But I quickly realised that Yasmin did not mind being looked at, in fact she liked it. She loved compliments, and I liked to give them to her. She would often say “Flattery will get you everywhere.” I would compliment her appearance, her hair, her clothes, and yes, even her breasts. I would try to do this subtly, but we both knew what I was talking about and she liked it. She would come into the office, wearing a particularly tight jumper or low cut top, and I would enthusiastically say “Oh wow, you look amazing today,” while openly looking at her cleavage, and she would be pleased.

When I first saw her, I thought she must have breast implants. They were that big and prominent. Almost too big for her slender frame. But I soon found out that Yasmin’s spectacular boobies were one hundred percent natural. Not by touching them, unfortunately, but by Yasmin openly telling me.

“You know, a lot of people sefaköy escort think I must have had a breast enlargement,” she said casually one morning while we were making coffee in the kitchen. “But I haven’t, I’m just blessed.”

“You really are blessed,” I replied. “I feel blessed just knowing you.”

She was happy to talk about her body and her sex-life very openly in the office, especially with Tracey, one of the women on her team who sat opposite her, and with me.

Yasmin said I was cute. She said she liked me. She was twenty-six and I was nineteen. I felt like I was falling in love.

I remember feeling a little bit heart-broken when I first found out that she had a boyfriend. This was maybe only a week or two after I started working there. She told me that his name was Frank and he worked in security, mostly door work, but he was looking to get his career started as a professional MMA fighter. He was known in the cage fighting world as “Frank the Tank” so she told me. This probably should have put me off of her, but it did not. I really felt like I was in love. I was a young, stupid teenager. And she was gorgeous.

It was a hot summer, and as the weather got hotter, I felt hornier and Yasmin wore even more revealing outfits in the office. I felt like I was going crazy.

Anyway, that’s how it was for the first few months, until July, and flying ant day. It must have been a dress down Friday, because I was wearing shorts, a t-shirt and trainers in the office, and Yasmin was wearing very short denim cut-offs and a vest top with flip-flops. Or maybe they had just let us wear shorts because it was so hot that summer. I’m not sure now, as I said this was a long time ago, and my memory is not the best. Regardless, it was a very hot day in July and everyone was suitably dressed for the heat.

I remember that the IT systems were running particularly slow all morning. My computer would hang for ages each time I tried to post anything on the accounts. It was very frustrating, and everyone in the finance department was complaining about it. The IT manager told us they were working on the problem and promptly hid in his office.

Just before lunchtime, the system finally ground to a halt, and the same incomprehensible error message appeared on everyone’s screen when we tried to input anything. I went on my lunch break.

When I returned from lunch an hour later, sad to be going back into the office on such a beautifully sunny day, Yasmin looked up at me and smiled. “They can’t get it working again. They said it’s going to have to be a major rebuild. They’re going to send us home,” she whispered happily.

I sat at my desk for another 45 minutes, doing no work, because I was unable to, and flirting with Yasmin, because I could.

Then, the Finance Director appeared and told us all to take the rest of the afternoon off. An excited murmur of approval went up around the office.

Everyone quickly started packing up and getting ready to go home or go to the pub.

“Oh no,” said Yasmin sadly. “I got a lift in from my mum, and she’s not going to be able to pick me up until five. Could someone give me a lift home, please?” she asked.

My heart leapt at the thought of driving her home, maybe even being invited in to her house. Just being alone with her in the car would be a treat for me. “Yes, yes of course,” I said quickly.

“I’ll do it,” said Tracey. “You live in North Abbot, don’t you Yasmin? That’s just around the corner from me. It would be the other side of town for you, Eric.”

“No, no, it’s OK, Tracey,” I said. I wanted to tell the interfering old bag to mind her own business. “I don’t mind going a bit out of my way. You go to the pub, Tracey. I’ll drive Yasmin home.” I was so relieved when Yasmin accepted my offer.

As we walked out into the car park, we saw swarms of ants crawling around on the pavement, and winged ants buzzing around in the air. “It must be flying ant day,” said Yasmin. “Look at them go!”

Yasmin gave me directions to her home, it was a little cottage in a village on the very outskirts of the town. We listened to the radio and talked about how lucky we were to be sent home early on such a lovely day. She asked me what I was doing for the weekend, and I said “Nothing.” I really wasn’t doing anything, I was not the most social person at that age.

She giggled, “Typical man. Free and easy. You need a girlfriend to sort you out.”

“I wouldn’t want to make you jealous,” I said.

She raised her eyebrows and gave me a look. At that point I almost ploughed my car into the back of a tractor that had unexpectedly pulled out in front of us, so I decided I should probably pay more attention to my driving and stop staring at Yasmin. But I couldn’t help it.

We reached her home a few minutes later. It was the last in a little row of cottages in a little hamlet on the edge of the town. I parked on the şehzadeler driveway outside her house.

“If you’re not busy this afternoon, would you like to come in for a quick drink?” My heart started pounding as she said this. “Just my way of saying thank you for the lift home.”

“Yes,” I said, trying to play it cool. “That would be nice.” As we went in to the little house, I saw thousands of ants crawling around in the front garden, and I asked her, “Is your boyfriend in?”

“Who, Frank?” she said. “No, he will be out all day. Anyway, he doesn’t mind if I have a friend round. We’re not doing anything wrong, are we?” She smiled at me as she said this, and I tried to work out what she meant. Friend? Was I just her friend? I thought she said I was cute?

She opened the door and led me into the house. The front door opened straight into the living room. It was small and cramped, but comfortably furnished. There was a big sofa and an enormous TV, both much too big for the little room. It was cooler in there than it was outside, and I was glad to be out of the dazzling sunlight and away from the swarms of insects.

She told me to make myself comfortable, so I took off my trainers and sat on the sofa. It was a very soft sofa and I sank into it. Yasmin went into the kitchen to get us both a drink. She came back in with two cans of lager, and she was rubbing one of these against her forehead to cool herself down.

“Ooh that feels nice,” she sighed. “Is Stella OK? It’s all we have, unless you want a cup of tea.”

“Yeah, Stella is great, that’ll be lush,” I replied. “It’s too hot to be drinking tea.”

Before she handed the can to me though, she gave me a cheeky smile and said, “Hey, watch this.” She pressed both of the cans to her front, holding them against the material that covered the tips of each of her tits. Her eyes widened and she giggled, and she stood there like that for a moment. “That’s nice and cold,” she said. I watched, completely bemused. She took the cans away, and looked down at her front. The condensation from the cans had moistened the white cotton of her top, and the cold temperature had evidently made her nipples become engorged and hard, as they now poked out from underneath her t-shirt like a couple of bullets. “There we go!” she said happily, and handed me one of the cold cans of beer. “That’s the way to cool those puppies down.”

I was very young, and I was not used to women acting in this way. I was also still prone to spontaneous erections, and I certainly got one then. I was gobsmacked. I sat there staring at her, my cock twitching in my underpants like a riled rattlesnake.

She sat down next to me and opened her beer and took a sip. “Cheers!”

I opened the can she had given me and took a long swig. It was good. This was back when Stella was still a half decent beer, and it was such a hot day any cold drink would have been heavenly.

She was sat very close to me even though it was a big sofa. It was a warm day, and I could feel her body heat. Normally that would bother me, but because it was her, I liked it. She looked over at me, staring into my eyes. I thought she was about to kiss me.

Suddenly, she started laughing. “Why do you look so panicked?”

“I’m fine, it’s just the heat I think,” I said, taking another swig of beer. I had to play it cool, I knew that. Act like I had these kind of hook-ups all of the time. But I was so nervous, and also trying to hide my erection from her, I was a complete mess.

“You’re very cute you know,” she said, looking into my eyes.

There was that word again. Cute. What did she mean by it? She found me attractive? Or she found me nice but not in a sexual way? Her boyfriend was a big, bearded, tattooed, muscled man, I knew this because I could see a picture of him on the wall by the door, in it he was wearing just a pair of shorts and holding up what looked like a boxing belt. I was not big or muscular, and I couldn’t grow a proper beard at the time. I didn’t have any tattoos. But she thought I was cute.

“It’s so warm in here,” she said. “Do you mind if I get a bit more comfortable?”

“No,” I said, not really knowing what she meant. I soon found out though.

She stood up, and then, facing away from me, she pulled her vest top over her head and tossed it into the corner of the room. Then, she undid her shorts and peeled them off, bending forward as she pulled them down over her long legs and then kicking them into the corner with the top. I stared in amazement at her buttocks, now clearly on show as she was only wearing a little black thong and her bra. She turned around, grinning at me. “There, that’s better. Much more comfortable. What do you think?”

“Oh my days, Yasmin. You’re the most sexy woman I’ve ever seen.” I meant it.

She laughed again. She was always laughing at me when I was trying to be serious.

“Does that mean you’ve seen sexier men, then?” she asked.

“No,” selçuklu escort I said, sounding indignant, then realised she was messing with me.

She giggled some more, then slowly sauntered around the front room in her underwear, letting me look at her, bending down to pick up a game controller that had been left in the middle of the carpet.

“Would you like to go up to the bedroom?” she asked. “I think it’s a little bit cooler at the back of the house, so we might be more comfortable up there.”

“Er, OK.”

She walked up the stairs in front of me, and I stared at her arse cheekily wiggling in the little black thong she was wearing just inches in front of my face as I followed her.

In the bedroom, she was even more forward than she had been downstairs. As soon as we were through the door, she turned around, grabbed me, hugged me close, and planted a wet open-mouthed kiss right on my lips. I was taken by surprise at first, but then I kissed her back. And I hugged her, and ran my hands down the curve of her spine and felt her perfect, round buttocks, squeezing them with my hands.

“Oh, I like that,” she said. “Come on, you take your clothes off too.”

I did as she said. I pulled my t-shirt off over my head, and unbuckled the belt that was holding my shorts up and let them drop to the floor.

I was wearing boxers under my shorts, and my cock, which had got hard while we were still downstairs, was poking out through the fly of my underwear and looking very swollen and angry as it stood out there.

Yasmin purred her approval as she saw my hard dick, and took it in her hand and gave it a squeeze while she kissed me again. I had to concentrate very hard to stop myself from cumming straightaway at that moment. I felt a little bit of pre-cum leaking out of my dick, but I managed to stay calm and save myself from the shame of premature ejaculation at that point.

We embraced and kissed some more, and I ran my hands up her back and unhooked her bra. She let her bra fall to the floor and said, “Ooh, you’ve done that before haven’t you?”

I was thrilled to see her naked boobs there in front of me. I had spent the last four months giving her sideways glances and admiring her across the office. I had wanked myself off in the shower countless times while thinking about her tits, and now here they were, bared in front of my. They were even more beautiful in the nude than I had imagined.

I appreciate that not everyone likes big tits, but I certainly do. And I think most people prefer them. Small tits can be cute, they can look elegant, but I think that the majority of people like a nice, big pair of tits.

Now, I know that tits that are big but also fat, slack, old and saggy, can be kind of gross looking. But a big pair of tits on a nice, fit, young girl, the right side of thirty, a nice big pair of pert, bouncy chest-balloons, is a thing of beauty that I think most people who aren’t homos or just plain weird can appreciate. Fuck, even homos like big tits, just look at Dolly Parton.

I caressed her breasts, stroking them and feeling them with my hands, putting my palms underneath them and lifting them gently to feel their weight, and trailing my fingers up to the point of each of her nipples and giving them both a playful tweak.

She groaned her appreciation as I fondled her. “You really do know how to handle a pair of boobies, don’t you?” she said with a giggle. “Come over here and you can suck on them as well.”

She sat down on the bed. It was a little double bed pushed up against one wall, the room was too small for a kingsize. The only other furniture was a bedside table, a lamp, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe with a mirror on the door.

I lay down next to her, and groped her breasts with my hands, and licked and sucked first one, and then the other, of her stiff, rosy nipples.

She was tugging and squeezing my erection that was still poking out of the hole in my boxers. I was using my self-control to not let her make me cum yet. I was certain we were going to have sex, and I wanted to cum inside her pussy. Or maybe on her face if we were doing it for a long time and I got bored with fucking her. But either way, I was determined that this female, as gorgeous as she was, was not going to get away with just giving me a hand-job.

After a few more minutes of caressing and cuddling, feeling her tits with my hands and kissing her on the mouth, on the neck, sticking my tongue in her ear and making her squirm, Yasmin said that she wanted to have sex.

“Let’s do it,” she huffed. “You have to lick it first though,” she said. “I like to be licked until I’m almost cumming before a guy has me. I’ll tell you when you can stop.”

Man, she likes to take charge, I thought, but I simply nodded in agreement.

She pulled off her thong, and I saw that her snatch was completely bald. Not even a hint of stubble, this pussy looked like it had been waxed in the last 24 hours, I thought. In fact, I remember her saying in the office the day before that she was going to the beauty salon that evening, so maybe she was going there to have her bush removed. Regardless, her cunt was as hairless as a freshly plucked chicken. I pulled my boxers off too, so we were both naked. This was not what I had expected when I went to work that morning.