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This is a true story, I hope it does not come back and bite me!
I was a young married man, an electronics engineer, working as a development test engineer in a small west midlands town. I worked in a tiny faraday cage, a metal box on a raised plinth surrounded by copper wire mesh to keep the radio transmissions the equipment I was testing from escaping. This was a dark oppressive place and so I kept the heavy sliding door open whenever I was not actually testing the transmitting parts of the equipment.
I had to slide the door shut before doing transmission test and one day the door bit me, tearing a large flap of skin off the web of my right hand. A two-inch plus strip of skin and flesh about an eighth of an inch wide, was hanging from the damaged wire mesh.
It hurt like hell and though not bleeding when I first looked, there was blood everywhere seconds later. I had nothing clean to put on the wound. I had to struggle to open the door left handed and half staggered down the step onto the main factory floor. I had my hand elevated, but the amount of blood was by now quite alarming. Someone noticed and I was being helped to the nearest aid station chair, while someone went for the company nurse.
A very attractive young woman took my injured hand, found a Red Cross box, and applied a gauze dressing. She got blood all over herself, my shirt was soaked, it looked very bad, it looked as if my entire body was bleeding. Now I knew the young woman, she worked on the rectification bench were problems which were discovered during testing were rectified. We had exchanged pantries quite often.
I was feeling quite light headed when the factory nurse arrived and she took a quick look at the wound, then at the strip of flesh hanging in the copper mesh. She gingerly took it in a pair of tweezers and deposited it in a dressing bag.
The gauze dressing was now showing signs of continued bleeding. Rather than replace it she wanted to get me to hospital ASAP, so told someone to ring for an ambulance and with the already bloody first aid worked supporting me took me to the factory entrance. Although I was wobbly, I was very aware that two very nubile females had me firmly in their grasp. I had an arm round both necks, the bloody hand being held by the aid while the nurse called out for the path to be cleared.
I was taken off to hospital, a surgeon made a passable repair to the major vein that had been ruptured, and micro stitched the flesh and skin back in place. I spent the night in hospital and returned to work next day to a rousing work force, some derisive, others more sympathetic. I sought out the first Aid girl, thanked her for her help, and was invited to sit with her and the other rectification workers, all nubile females, in the works canteen for lunch.
The damaged wire mesh had been replaced. In addition, the cage had been retested. I was not offered any compensation, but did not loose any wages and the management were prepared to let the work fall behind schedule for a while.
I had been a few days in front of the schedule for the production model first test date. I had my arm in a sling for quite a while and the work went a little slower. Then when the dressings finally came off, I had quite a workload to catch up. I now had to work over time and so a rectification person also had the opportunity to work overtime.
The young first aid woman, who I will call Maggie was the person assigned. Although the work progressed well, both she and I were aware that the fifty-yard walk from my test cage to the rectification area was consuming quite a bit of the time. I only had two development models to work on and with a component change required for every test; one of us was always walking one way or the other, carrying one of the heavy military radios.
After the second evenings overtime I informed the factory management of the problem and walked the floor manager through the process. This was to reduce the cost of parts, by using cheaper, lower wattage, or lower tolerance parts in the military equipment and get it ready for its production test. There were still over a thousand components to be replaced, at least twice, which meant someone had to walk 200,000 yards carrying the heavy unit for the process to be completed.
Next day a work crew began installing rectification workplaces on the opposite side of the walkway from the faraday cages. Maggie was the first occupant at the station opposite my cage.
I was soon catching up on the schedule and of course began a good workplace relationship with the pretty young married woman. We had soon exchanged life stories. She was married to a police officer and was desperate for a child. I was an expectant father with ambitions to own a house and move up in the world. I had been reduced to getting around on a bicycle when my motorbike shed a vale and destroyed the engine and gearbox. I cycled five miles to work every day and then five miles back home, this overtime was useful.
The bloody event had had several up sides.
It was maraş escort early summer and the days were getting hot. The faraday cages were terrible places to work in hot weather, I began to work slower during the day, and this of course stretched the overtime. I was able to fudge the schedule while just about catching up with the work.
Maggie had a magnificent body, a fact she was well aware of and as the summer days got hotter she wore lighter clothes and although we both had to wear factory over clothes, there was always a nice few seconds watching her get into and out of the sturdy overall topcoat. They were collected each evening and clean ones ready next morning, in the clean area we worked in. Mine was White; hers was Blue, designating our work area and status. We had clip on nametags.
The repositioning of the rectification work places resulted in me getting a bonus. My savings were half way towards a car.
My sex life became reduced as my wife had a few complications and the daily contact with Maggie became a very pleasurable remedy for frustration. One evening working in the almost silent factory, Maggie asked me if I could come look at their HiFi record player as it had developed an annoying noise. I asked her what sort and player her some samples from the equipment in my cage.
“Like this?’ I played a 100-cycle audio hum.
She said, “Perhaps.”
I played a 50-cycle buzz. “Like This?”
She said, “perhaps.”
I played a 20-cycle rumble, “Like this then?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know it’s a bit like all of them mixed up.”
I fiddled around and played a combination.
“Yes that’s more like it,” She said.
I varied the amplitude of the signals while Maggie, her bosoms in the blue coat straining the material was leaning into the open doorway of my cage.
As I was adjusting the levels, she said, “That is it! Can you come and find out what is causing it?”
“Well this noise comes from a bad valve. Probably the last amplifier stage.” I played the 50-cycle noise.
“This is a bad power supply which could be just about any component.” I played the 100-cycle noise.
“And this is a problem with the turntable motor, or its control circuit.” I played the 20-cycle rumble.
“So you have elements of all three, its not going to be easy to tell which can be fixed or which are inherent in the design.”
“Ok, please come after work and see what it is. It is an expensive model and has only just started to make the noise.”
So that evening I signed out a few pieces of equipment, a test meter, soldering iron, a few small hand tools and walked with her back to the police married quarters, a very pleasant evening stroll of two miles, with me pushing my bicycle and her hanging off my arm.
At one point, we had to walk along a pathway between housing estates and had the place to our selves, Maggie’s conversation turned to babies.
“You know I told you we were getting tested? Well we got the results back, my hubby is virtually sterile, a really low sperm count, and I am not very fertile. We are so disappointed. You have been married quite a while and are just having your first child; did you have trouble as well?”
I laughed softly “No. We had been using birth control, at first condoms, then the pill, then back to a reusable sheath. The pregnancy was kind of an accident, not planed, well not by me.”
I then explained about the blood pressure problems, the spotting, and the strange fact that I had had morning sickness while my wife had sailed through the first trimester. It was only now going into the final months that she began to suffer.
“She has had to stop working so our savings have stopped going up; in fact they will go down before the baby is born. Having kids is not all good news.”
“Life’s funny, I don’t really need to work, policemen get a good wage and cheap housing, and we could easily afford children. I want a football team at least, but cannot get pregnant. You are struggling financially, but have a sick, but pregnant wife.”
We had reached her front door and she opened the door, there was a large white dog with bared fangs, a low growl in his throat.
“Down Boy this is a friend.” The growl stopped and the teeth were covered, but I was very wary.
“Let him smell your hand.” She told me.
I held out a hand and the dog, a Staffordshire Bull Terrier stepped forwards and sniffed then licked my hand then turned and went back into the house.
“He is a trained guard dog. If I had not told him you were a friend as soon as I opened the door he would have waited a while then pinned you to the ground with your neck in his jaws. That is if you did not resist. If you resisted well there would probably have been as much blood as you got all over us when you tore your hand open. How is it by the way?”
She took the hand with its still pink new flesh and kissed the scar.
“Impressive scar, quite a talking point.” I laughed and felt a little un-easy. The facts mardin Escort about the dog and her rather friendly behavior were attacking my safe space around women.
I saw the expensive Hi-Fi record player a ‘Grundig.’
“Well there should not be any discernable noise out of that, they are a great manufacturer, put something on, let me get to work.”
She turned the machine on and a pop tune, an early beetle record began to play. Strain as hard as I could I could not hear any noises. I tried the tone controls and the volume. There was a just discernable 100-cycle noise at maximum Bass and high volume, too high to talk over and in danger of rousing neighbours.
Maggie had disappeared and the dog was watching my every move. Maggie returned dressed in a light summer blouse, almost transparent. I could tell she had a white bra on underneath. “Yes that is it. Can you fix it?”
“Well its power supply noise, I would really need an oscilloscope to identify just which component or combination is causing it. It is very minor probably still within the makers specification so they would not fix it. I will see if it’s anything obvious.”
I turned the machine off and began pulling it from the wall. The dog made a loud bark and stood on guard his fangs again visible.
“I had better help,” said Maggie.
“Good dog, but he is only moving the furniture.” She gave the dog a pat and moved to help me gain access to the back of the machine. I got a view of her breasts down the front of her blouse as she lent forwards at the other end of the unit.
The machine was quite heavy and we had to make a few lifts for me to get it far enough away from the wall and with every lift I got to see more and more of her cleavage.
I found a Philips screwdriver from the tool bag and took the back off then turned the machine back on and with the volume down checked the power supply voltages.
I asked Maggie to turn the volume up and there was a slight drop in the HT voltage and a slightly lower drop to the bias voltage. There was no discernable movement of the meter needle that would indicate poor smoothing.
‘The most obvious cause is a leaky electrolytic capacitor, this one!” I pointed and Maggie bent over to look where I was pointing. I got a better view down her front; one button seemed to have come undone. I squatted down and read the capacity and voltage range.
“I could get one and you could easily replace it, but I cannot recommend that as you will void the warranty. I recon you should wait and see if it gets worse, quite a lot worse by the way, then return it to the shop you bought it from and get them to repair it.”
I turned the machine off and replaced the back cover. Maggie went to the kitchen while I did this. I gingerly lifted the end of the cabinet and the dog again barked and began to growl. Maggie rushed back in and scolded the dog this time. She then helped me put the machine back against the wall.
“He did not like one of the men who delivered the record player. He wanted to take a piece of him! The man had foolishly refused to let his hand be smelt. I suppose he associates bad men with the machine. Sit down I will get you a drink, beer, or something stronger?”
“Have you got a cider?”
“Yes, just the ordinary non alcoholic sort though.”
“That’s ok, I have to ride five miles so non alcoholic is just fine.”
“Sit down then, I will get a glass.”
I sat on the couch and the dog glared a little, but did not growl again. Maggie returned with a full pint pub glass of sparkling cider, the glass was already dewing over. I took it, it was deliciously cold.
“I better put the dog in the kitchen because if I sit next to you he will get all jealous. He is even jealous of my husband if he kisses me.”
She called the dog into the kitchen and I heard her offer him some tidbit. She came back into the lounge and shut the door behind her.
“Now providing we are quiet, he won’t make a fuss and rouse the neighbours.” She laughed. “Hubbie and I were having noisy sex on the couch once with him in the kitchen, he barked that loud and that long we had to stop and calm him down!”
I thought the dog was a viscous brute, but said nothing. I suppose she lavished the attention she would normally give a child on it and the dog was only protecting what he considered was a doting mistress. The silence lasted a few minutes as Maggie still had a hand on the kitchen door handle.
There was a muffled sound. “That’s good he has gone to his bed. Now where were we? Oh yes we have to keep quiet.”
She took two steps from the door and stood across the coffee table from me. There was an enigmatic smile on her face, a real Mona Lisa type smile, one I could not understand. I took another draught of the cider. Then had to put the glass down as I watched in fascination as Maggie began to undo the buttons at the front of her blouse!
All the buttons came undone and the garment flapped when she pulled the tails from her skirt. She slid mersin escort it off one shoulder then the other then let it fall to the floor behind her. The white Bra was just an ordinary bra, one that concealed every thing beneath it. Maggie licked her lips.
“I have known for a long time that you wanted to see these.” And putting actions to her words reached behind herself with both hands and snapped the restraining garment open. As the support was removed, her breasts changed shape a little, the straps hung loose.
Maggie put a hand to each breast and walked round the table. Then sat on the coffee table and took her hands away. The garment just hung there still concealing the treasure it normally confined.
“Would you like to see them?”
Unable to speak, I nodded.
“Well take a look.” She held her arms forwards and up, she was still fully covered, but she made no move as I reached forwards and took the straps in my trembling hands and pulled the white bra forwards and down her arms.
She dropped her arms and I was holding a very warm bra staring at Maggie’s perfect breasts. She took the bra from me and lent back, arms behind her, on the coffee table.
I looked in awe, her breasts were larger than my wife’s, but had less sag, her nipples were hard looking, rose coloured mounds at the uplifted tips of creamy white flesh.
“Would you like to play with them?” asked Maggie.
I needed no more invitation. I slid to my knees, took a breast in each hand, weighed them, and squeezed them. They were firm even hard. She did something and I felt them move beneath my hands. I let them loose and again she flexed some muscles I did not know women had and the breasts jumped and jiggled. I ventured to take a nipple between finger and thumb and rolled it back and forth.
“The other one is getting jealous.” Said Maggie who was watching my face as I played with her body. She flexed her muscles more as I now had both nipples between finger and thumb.
“Squeeze harder pull them, go on I like your hands, I like my nipples being tortured.” I pulled harder, this way and that. I was painfully erect. She kept still, but kept flexing those muscles as I pulled a bit harder.
“Yes! Just a bit harder just a little longer and I will be there.”
I did not know where ‘there’ was but was very happy to comply.
I suddenly realized Maggie was having an orgasm as she shuddered and let her arms go slack. Her upper body weight was now supported by her nipples between my fingers. I was amazed. I wanted to let go but she would obviously have fallen. I was also Cumming so I eased forward, which of course extended the weight upon the stretched nipples. I felt each spurt of my ejaculation. I moved forward a little, giving her little jolts as her weight was hanging more and more from her nipples. She was still in orgasm. I was just about spent so with one final twist and drop let her back to lie across the coffee table. I was also aware that I had cum gallons.
I lent forwards and took a nipple in my mouth. Maggie was holding my hands her to her breasts lifting me from one to the other. I am not sure but I think she was in an extended orgasm the entire time, since she had stopped supporting herself as she lay back.
She had been climaxing for at least five minutes. At last, she seemed satisfied. And I sat back on the couch. Maggie hauled herself erect. I was slouched back.
“Mmm I see you came as well, pity, I could have put that to good use. Would you consider getting me pregnant?”
“Good God Maggie I don’t know! I was a virgin when I got married I have never been unfaithful, though I do not know what this evening would be classed as in a divorce court.”
“Ok I will arrange for us to meet in town Saturday, quite by accident and your wife can meet my Hubby and I am sure he will ask you both out for a drink. We will see how they get on and let them decide.” Maggie was getting dressed. I was still tumescent and very conscious of the bulge as I gathered my tools and drank the last of the cider. I made my way to the door. As I stood waiting for her to open it, she reached up and planted a chaste kiss upon my cheek. I had both hands full so could not stop her or respond the way my body wanted. I felt a hand at my groin and my still hard cock was groped.
“I had such a good orgasm I cannot wait for this. I will have to arrange for the dog to be out of earshot though. It was so hard keeping quite back there!
“Now just say a normal good night, we have very nosy policemen’s wives who will have timed your visit!”
“See you Saturday outside Woolworths at ten thirty.”
She opened the door and I said good night and fixed the tool bags to my bicycle and with a final wave to an already closed door set off home. What an experience, I would have to be careful to explain the cider smell and dispose of the wet stained underwear rather carefully.
Next day at work, Maggie was perhaps a little more distant rather than warmer. All business like, the overtime session went like clockwork and as she had not mentioned the previous evening events, I did not say anything either. I did make sure that my wife and I were outside Woolworths at ten thirty the next day though and sure enough Maggie was there talking to a tall uniformed man.
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