I lived in a tiny flat above the town's bakers shop. My husband ran away with his fancy woman years ago. Needless to say when his money run out she left him. I was fifty-four years old and had just about given up on life, and I hadn't had a job for over ten years.

One morning as I passed the newsagents on my way to the butchers, I saw an advert in the window, all it said was office assistant wanted, and there was a phone number. Curiosity had got the better of me. I went to a nearby phonebox and dialed the number.

A pleasant man by the name of Peter answered, I simply said that I had seen the job advertised and was enquiring about it. He explained briefly about the job and the location was Edwards garage, which was about a ten-minute walk from my flat.

He seemed keen to employ someone rather quickly. An appointment was made for ten am the following day. I arrived a few minutes early and was taken upstairs to Peter's office, he was very friendly and looked about the same age as my youngest son.

We had coffee and biscuits and chatted about the job generally. It seemed that Peter was very disorganised, there were papers in piles on his desk, and even on the carpet. We seemed to get on just fine, but he did indicate that he had several applicants for the job.

On my way home it began to rain quite heavily, and I did not have my brolly with me. I rather liked the rain, it reminded me of the times that I would cycle over to black Crow woods with my brother Simon. We enjoyed being naked together and getting a good soaking, and we always ended up fucking behind the bushes.

The best times were when I was pregnant, no precautions were needed. There was something rather pleasing about the feeling of his warm milky spunk being spurted deeply into my most willing slit.

When I got home I slipped off my wet clothes and gave myself a pleasing rub down with a soft pink towel. I caught sight of myself in the full-length mirror, and I must admit that I rather liked what I saw. Three days later I received a badly typed letter from Peter, I had got the job, and he wanted me to start the following Monday.

I just could not believe it. The big day duly arrived and I turned up at the garage about two minutes late. Peter was outside waiting for me, he introduced me to the six mechanics, and also the garage cat called Percy. The place had a good feeling about it.

I was right about the office being in a bit of a shambles. It took me three days to file everything in my own filing system because Peter never had one. There were a couple of small things.

 He would touch my arm, or rest his hand lightly on my shoulders when he was leaning over me explaining the paperwork. What he didn't know, was that I welcomed his discreet touches.

The mechanics always finished early on Fridays and went down to the local pub for a few drinks. There were no facilities available for me, if I was in need I had to walk the short distance to my flat. I had a slight chill in my stomach which was proving troublesome, and it was once again raining.

There was only really one thing for it. The mechanic's toilet was a rather dirty place but it had to do. As I sat there I noticed there was writing on the walls about me, most of it was rather nice, but a few lines were rather suggestive and a little sexual.

Peter gave me a lift home in his plush new car, which was very kind of him. Later that evening it was bath time for me. As I lay there enjoying the feeling of the warm soapy water covering my nakedness, my thoughts went back to the writing on the wall. I was an old girl, almost a fossil compared with the ages of the mechanics, so which of them wanted me to suck them off?

My fingertips were not slow in finding their way to my clitty, which was clearly in dire need of some very close attention. I rather liked the idea of sucking a cock, and including Peter, there were seven of them. Things were looking good.

After several weeks of receiving regular wages, and having paid off the rent arrears, I actually had money to spend. Up until then, my office attire had been drab, boring trouser suits. The time had come for a change. I knew what I wanted, and I knew the reasons why.

There were several charity shops in the town, and I had no problems getting certain items of clothing, and several pairs of high heels. The mechanics started work thirty minutes before I did.

You could have heard a pin drop when I entered the garage, not only that but as I ascended the old victorian spiral stairwell up to my office, it was obvious that the guys were having a good look up my dress, and I rather liked it.

Peter nearly fell off his chair when he saw me, not only that, but our desks were opposite each other and I had no vanity curtains, he was so easy to tease and torment, was I going to let him peep up my dress. Maybe. 

The writing on the toilet walls became very direct, it was no longer a little sexy it had become vulgar, and at times quite disgusting, and I loved every word. I did wonder just what the mechanics would have thought, had they known that not only was I pissing in their toilet, but I would often wank myself off.

Peter was really kind when it was raining at home time, he would give me a lift, one evening when we arrived outside my flat he leaned over, kissed me on my cheek and whispered, "I love you so much." Was it love or did he have ideas about getting my knickers down?

July of my second year at the garage was so darn hot, we were wilting, but I had a rather interesting idea. Each day I would wear a pair of knickers one size smaller than the ones I wore the day before. This was of great interest to the mechanics, and rather pleasing for me.

On the last day which was Friday my knickers were so small that they were pulled rather tightly against my bumhole, and really hard into my slit. My dense dark pubes were clearly on show, especially when I came down the stairs to the garage.

The toilet walls were clearly well splattered with spunk, I may have been responsible for such behaviour. What I used to do was good for us all, it was nothing more than a lady of mature years being just a little bit provocative, and I loved every minute of it.

The more interesting things never happened at the garage. My three grown-up sons would take it in turns visiting their mummy at my flat. David my middle son was my favourite, he was so imaginative, he always whispered things to me when his cock was hard into my slit. Yes, I engage in full sex with my boys, its good for us all. You could say that a cocks a cock and a cunts a cunt.