"What is it, Lynn?" Harry said, somehow managing to hide his lewd thoughts behind a mask of concern. "Is something the matter?"
The voluptuous bookkeeper didn't answer, couldn't answer now as the shame and humiliation of that afternoon in Hans' cabin rushed back again through her mind with paralyzing force. She shook her head, trying to fend off the tears she knew were going to come any second, trying to maintain some semblance of control over her emotions. Finally, she let herself go, sinking on the seat across the cockpit from Harry, letting the tears stream down her cheeks with unashamed vigor. She had wanted to be rational, collected, when she talked with Harry, and now… maybe she was just a little kid like Mark said… maybe she couldn't take care of herself… maybe…
"Lynn? Hey, listen, what's the matter," said Harry, barely able to hide the sexual arousal he was beginning to feel as he watched Lynn's defenses crumble before him like the conquered battlements of some medieval castle. "What's wrong?"
Harry stood up, and flicked the small lever that locked the wheel onto its present course. He quickly crossed to his helpless employee, and sat on the seat next to her. He shivered from the closeness of her tiny body, and barely stifled a moan as he glanced quickly down into the "vee" of her robe, and saw that her delicately rounded breasts were unprotected by a brassiere of any kind. They heaved with enticing jerks as Lynn tried to control her sobbing, and it was all Harry could do not to reach out and cup one of them softly in his powerful hand.
Instead, he put his hands tentatively on Lynn's shoulders, and felt through her robe as she started slightly. He kept his voice soothing, and reassuring, as he quickly began to widen his advantage.
"Lynn, there must be something very wrong for you to be this upset. Why don't you just dry your eyes… come on, here's a handkerchief… that's it… that's a good girl… now why don't you just tell me what it is that's bothering you so much."
Lynn hesitated, still wracked by the waning spasms of her weeping, and remained with her back to her powerful boss.
"Oh, Mr. Johnson… Harry… I don't know. I mean I do know… but I don't know how to tell you." Lynn felt the sobs coming again, and was again powerless to stop them.
"Come on there… hey now… come on now…" Harry crooned, his hands beginning to run reassuring rhythms along the fleshy upper parts of her two slender arms. All at once, Harry was surprised to find Lynn in his arms, cradled against his powerful chest like a daughter snuggling into her father's protective embrace, and even he didn't know how she had gotten there. His dormant cock stirred instantly at the unbearably tantalizing sensations caused by Lynn's long blonde hair against his chin and neck. Immediately, Harry's arms enfolded her, which reassured the unaware young woman, and excited Harry himself tremendously.
"That's all right… calm down now… take it easy." His voice sang a soothing lullaby, and his hands and arms pressed into Lynn's soft, pliable young body with increasing fervor.
Gradually, Lynn felt the sobbing ebb, felt her mind again asserting itself. She also felt Harry's arms around her, giving her a warm, little-girl feeling, felt his chest moving as he breathed, felt his words coursing over her in waves of comfort. She closed her eyes, letting the tension drain out of her, trying to isolate and understand the vague sensations running along her bones and skin. She attributed them to the relaxation that overcame her supple body now, and they began to center unhindered in the soft inner reaches of her moist pink cunt.
"Harry, I've got to tell you something… and I hope you won't be too upset."
"That's all right Lynn, dear, you just rest quiet for a while, and then tell me all about it later."
Lynn surrendered herself to the suggestions of this warm, understanding man. She lay a few moments more with her head against Harry's muscular chest, and let her mind go wherever it wanted. Her mind seemed to be able to concentrate on nothing besides the soothing, father-like caresses Harry was sending like gifts to her keyed-up body. She sighed softly with pleasure, happy now that she had found someone to talk to… to trust. The tingling of her loins became a low, quiet, sensation of pleasure which permeated her entire body, enveloping her in a blissful feeling of well-being. And then she gradually became aware that she was beginning to feel more, much more.
The aroused young woman quickly extricated herself from the confining hold of the powerful man beside her, and brushed her disheveled hair back into some semblance of order.
"Harry, I've got to tell you this… I've got to tell you something about Hans."
Harry kept his right arm carelessly touching Lynn's shoulder, while his left hand began to pat her knee and lower thigh in a fatherly way.
"Lynn, do you feel up to talking about it now?"
The voluptuous young housewife tried to say that she was indeed up to it, but nothing came out. She was aware only of the hand on her flesh, not patting now, but gently, almost imperceptibly, massaging. A shudder ran up her spine, caused by the pressure on her smooth, perfectly formed thigh, and also by the manly scent emanating from the nearness of Harry's conditioned body. She sensed, rather than felt, the excitement that was coursing through Harry's body. Then glanced surreptitiously down at him, and gasped under her breath as she saw the bulge in his pants that could only be caused by one thing, a rock-hard cock straining to free itself.
The robe-clad woman stiffened slightly, and tried to move away from the caresses of her boss. But Harry held her easily with his right hand, and his left sank suggestively a little lower on the inside of her thigh while his eyes held hers with their gaze.
"Lynn, you're a beautiful girl, and I hate to see you upset. I hate to see you crying like you were just now. I wish I could do something to help, to calm you down, to help you relax. Do you think I could? Do you think I could do that? Help you relax… relax… and calm down? Could I do that… Hmmmmm?"
Lynn was transfixed as she stared into Harry's hypnotizing eyes. She felt his hand up between her trembling thighs now, kneading them, stroking them, threatening to turn the slumbering fires in her loins to raging storms. She now felt trembles of pleasure surge through her body, up in between her ivory-hued breasts, and down again to the quivering walls of her clasping, grasping, vagina. But she could do nothing. She couldn't open her mouth. Her surprise at again finding herself involved sexually with a man not her husband, and again not being able to ignore the incredibly pleasurable throbbing, froze her mind to everything but the physical sensations now streaming in to her consciousness.
Suddenly, Harry's right hand moved quickly around and turned Lynn's delicate face to him. She gasped with the force of his move, and as her mouth opened he covered it with his own, forcing his swiftly darting tongue deep into her resisting cavity. She desperately tried to free herself, and then as quickly, thrust herself into his arms, lancing her own tongue at his, and encircling it in the darkness of her frantically moving mouth.
Harry gasped with surprise at the unexpected response from his aroused young bookkeeper, and then flexed his hands into the softness of her flesh. She moaned in pleasure, and Harry's hands moved over her body, along the narrowness of her waist, over the voluptuously rounded curve of her hips and into the naked hardness of her cuntal valley below. She clutched his hand as his fingers gathered the folds of her robe and he reached to touch the crease of her hot loins.
"No, Harry, my God, what am I doing?" Lynn cried, suddenly coming to her senses. "Stop! No! Please!"
Harry didn't answer, simply freed his hand from her grasp, and began brushing his fingers lightly over the moistening lips of her shivering vagina.
"Aaaahhh!" Lynn sighed, beginning to lose all control over her actions, beginning to forget her resolve, her pride, even her husband, as her mind became attuned to one thing, and one thing only: the blistering heat generated by the expertly moving hands of her passion-aroused host.