Doreen was the first. I was 18, she was 44. She was also married to my boss.

I was your standard 80s teen nerd. Never had sex, never had a proper girlfriend, the furthest I'd got was Helen Foster letting me and my mate Trev take turns to feel her tits walking back from a party

I had a Saturday job in a shop selling radio spares and accessories _ pokey little place in what had once been the front room of a terraced house on a main road in the East Midlands. The owner worked full time on irregular shifts while his wife had been after the shop but they were getting divorced, which was where I came in.

Doreen couldn't afford to move out so was still living in the premises. She was in her early 40s, shoulder length blonde hair, skinny, and the toll of still living with Graham was showing. Some Saturdays she never surfaced. When she did she was chain smoking and quite often still in her PJs and a scruffy nylon housecoat when I left at 4.30. When she was up she generally stayed in the back kitchen although she brought me a cuppa every hour with a flicker of a smile behind the grey tired eyes and the sadness. I was always "pet" which made a nice change from the more usual local address of "duck".

That Saturday they were shouting in the back when I arrived just before 9; Graham had unlocked so I let myself in and got set up. Customers were usually few but it wasn't the sort of place you came to browse, you came to buy an xyz for whatever you were working on. After a while Graham stormed through, quipped "Don't get fucking married kid" and went to work.

I was wondering whether I should go through and make my own tea when I heard Doreen gently sobbing in the back. Maybe I'd wait a while. She was still sobbing an hour later but I was parched so I went through. Between the shop and the back kitchen as a hallway where the stairs went up, Doreen was huddled up in the bottom stair, arms wrapped tightly around her, her bare legs and knees drawn up the her chest.

"Are you ok ?" - she nodded but didn't look up.

"Want a brew ?" - another nod.

I returned a few minutes later with two mugs and handed her hers.

"Ta pet". She took the mug in both hands and hutched herself up to one side of the stair. "Sorry pet, I'll be alright in a bit".

"You sure you're ok ?"

"Yes. It's all just a bit difficult".

I must have been hovvering in the hallway looking unsure what do do next because she went on "it's ok pet, you can sit down here and have your tea with me or hide from the loony mad woman in the shop, I don't mind". There was a hint of a smile. I sat down.

The stair was only just wide enough to sit side by side, and still clasping her mug she leaned her head on my shoulder, still shaking. She must have been getting dressed when the fight started because she was wearing a towelling dressing gown and nothing on her feet. I couldn't help notice that she was crying again- I had no idea what to say so I put my tea down carefully and put my arm around her shoulder.

She sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. In between she tried to tell me what the fight had been about but a lot of it was lost in the sobbing and sniffling. I had a clean hankie in my pocket so I gave it to her. The gist of it was that Graham was a twat and a bully and the sooner she was out of there the better, but for now she was stuck. I sat and listened, let her vent and held her tea while she wiped her tears with my hankie.

It was at about this point that I noticed the dressing gown had gaped open slightly. The pale skin of her neck gave way to the soft even paler skin of her right breast before disappearing back into the towelling folds. I tried not to look. I failed.

She leaned forwards to pick up her cigs and lighter, and for a brief glorious second I saw the whole of her right breast and its beautiful tiny pink nipple. Her breasts were small but perky and as she fumbled for the cig packet I caught a glimpse of them both. This time I deliberately looked away, partly out of respect but mostly because I didn't want to get caught.

She sat back up tapping a cigarette out of the now open packet. My cock was hard as iron but hopefully not too obvious with my free arm across my lap and I had to say something before she noticed.

"You're erm ... coming adrift a bit Doreen".

She looked puzzled. I nodded towards her boobs and the errant dressing gown. She gasped.

"Oh my god, I am sorry pet ! What am I like !" She quickly pulled the dressing gown back round and knotted it. She smiled. "Thanks pet, you're a good lad". She giggled a bit and went bright red.

"I'd better go and put on some clothes hadn't I ?" The shop bell rang. "And you've got a customer".

She giggled nervously again and went through to the kitchen with the mugs lighting the cig as she went. I went to serve my customer. Life was about to get interesting.