Oil And Water 1

This is a fairly long story, but I hope you'll find it worth your time. And I wanted you to know that the "epilog" was written by a very close friend of mine, Lilsheba, who is an excellent author and also contributes to this list.

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"Hey Bill, get your ass in here a minute!"

I hear her holler as I walk by the door to her office. "Oh shit, Sandy's at it again, what now?" And I walk into her office with a grin on my face. "What's up?"

"Not you for a change, I see. Guess you must have found something strange last night. Sit down, I need to talk to you."

I plop myself down next to the door. "The only thing strange I've seen lately is what I'm looking at now!" And I stare right at her to make sure she gets the point. Like she wouldn't.

"You know that campaign you bullied my project group to buy into? It's going down the toilet. The client is not happy and you've got my ass in a sling again. How're you going to fix it?"

She knows as well as I do I didn't have much to do with it. It was Tom's bright idea and he sold it to the group. In fact I told her quietly, in one of our more lucid moments, that I was worried about it.

"If you hadn't been flirting with Tom the whole time, you'd know I never liked it much. Why don't you ask him? I don't think much of it but it might still work with a little tweaking."

"Well if you looked like Tom I might actually listen to you once in a while, too. But we both know he's out of his league. Bill, I really do need some help with this. I know damn well you can come up with something. But be nice and work with Tom, make him think whatever you dream up is his idea so he'll buy it and actually try to work it out. Otherwise you know damn well you ... and I ... are gonna' get stuck with saving his ass again."

I give her a long, loud and very exaggerated sigh. "So it's up to me to save that round ass of yours ... again! When am I gonna' get paid off with a little piece of it? Cancel that, I still have a few standards."

"In your dreams, asshole. And I don't doubt for a second my ass is in them, just about every night. When you're not too wasted to have any."

No sense in dragging this out. She knows I'll do what I can. Just another day in the office for us. And it's been pretty much the same for the seven years I've worked here. When I got here she had just a couple of months head start. We were both business analysts then, and now we're project team leaders in marketing. And she never gets tired of lording it over me that she's the "senior" team leader. Even though there is no such title.

We both do the same job and more often than not are number two on each other's project teams. We don't even have to ask Dave, the Assistant VP for the division, any more. We've done it for so long and so well that everyone knows that's just the way it is.

"Well, it's been fun, but I have a few pencils I have to sharpen. And as usual I'll figure something out and shove it down Tom's throat. By the way, I have something bigger than a pencil for your throat anytime you want a challenge. I know you haven't gotten much practice lately!" And I get up and quickly start to head out again.

But she just has to have the last word. "I have a feeling the only challenge I'd have would be finding it! But thanks for the help, Bill. By the way, Friday as usual?"

Oh yeah, tomorrow. The gang from the office goes out for pizza and beer after work every Friday, and she knows damn well that neither of us has ever missed one except when I was pussy-whipped or she was "In love". Which usually lasted at least two or three weeks for her. And right now that's not the case for either of us.

"Well, let's see, gotta check my calendar." And I make a big deal of pulling an appointment book out of my jacket and looking. "Yeah I guess I can give you a break and shuffle a few things around. Can't trust you with that new intern, god knows what might happen if I don't make you keep your hands off him! I'll be there, want a ride over?"

The intern is 18 and we both know she likes men her age or older, which means over thirty. She gets up and walks out with me, heading for the ladies room, and she makes a left at the first aisle in the rows of cubicles. She turns her head and yells back at me, "I'll let you know about the ride tomorrow, ok?" And she turns and keeps going without waiting for an answer. And as usual, my eyes follow her for a moment.

And suddenly I exclaim, "Holy crap!" And I hear a snicker from the first cubicle. Frank. He's been here almost as long as we have, and he's next in line for our jobs. But he's one of the good guys, knows his stuff and both Sandy and I put in a good word for him any time we can and fight to get him on our teams. But I don't really want him to hear what I have to say to her, so as she stops and turns around again to look at me I walk towards her.

And because we're in the middle of the office now I keep the tone down as I say, "Seven years! And this is the first time I've ever seen you bare-ass. Or at least, bare legged. What the hell happened to the beige panty-hose?" She makes a face at me as we start towards the restrooms again.

"Why Bill, I can't believe you actually noticed! But if you must know I went to put on my last pair this morning and there was a hole the size of a softball in them. Anyhow, why the hell do you care?"

I stop and make a big production of ogling her legs from behind. "Well for one thing, I'm curious just because they meet up with that big ass of yours, someplace under that skirt. And I figured anyone that had to wear the same damn panty hose for seven years must have had something to hide. Like big wads of cellulite or bruises from the latest brute."

And then I add, "But I must say, they look pretty damn good! For an older woman. But with legs like that, why don't you wear something a little more exciting than beige once in a while?"

She knows that in my own way I'm giving her a genuine compliment. Which almost never happens. So I know she'll pay attention for a change.

"Older hell! You make me look like a teenager!" She knows we're only four months apart.

"And what's wrong with beige, what the hell do you think I should wear?"

We stop outside the restrooms, next to the elevators. At this time of day there isn't much traffic so at least it's easier to talk. As a matter of fact, a few years ago we were coming up in the elevator and messing with each other, and I grabbed her ass. One thing led to another and we began fooling around. And I threw the stop switch and we made out for about five minutes and no one ever even knew anything happened. And that was the only time anything ever did happen between us. I still recall it vividly and I'll bet she does too, but neither of us has ever mentioned it again.

"Beige is boring, it's what old ladies wear. Try some color, darker or lighter. Better yet, how about some stockings? With those legs you would if you had any guts. Nice and sheer. The kind with the wide lacy silicone bands at the top to hold them up. And a little color, White, light blue, deep brown tones. Mmmmmmm, or best of all, Black! And maybe the fishnet kind with a pattern in them. Hell with stockings like that you could make a living on the street corner when times get tough. Or make a porno!"

"Why Bill! I'm surprised you even know about things like black stockings. Sure as hell none of those skanks I've seen you with would wear them. But I'm sure you know all about whores and porno movies. Gotta get off somehow!"

And she gives me a little "I gotcha" smirk and turns and slams open the door to the ladies room.

As I wander back to my office I can't stop thinking about our conversation for some reason. Sandy and I have an understanding. We can say anything about anything. Because behind the nastiness and one-ups we're friends, buddies. I can call her a whore, slut or anything else, but god help the next guy that does it. And of course she doesn't hold back on me either. Last week she was bitching about something and I asked her if she was on the rag. And it turned out, she was. But on the rare occasions we see each other outside the office we actually tone down the rhetoric and act like normal people with each other. Well, almost.

It hasn't always been this way. At first we were rivals, always trying to look better than the other. Someone even remarked that we were like Oil and Water. But quickly a certain respect grew between us as we got more experience and realized the two of us were both really good at our jobs and better than most of the office. And when we worked together we were really at our best.

So the rivalry thing went out the window because deep down we realized we were a team. You might wonder why we hadn't become closer in other ways, but that was something that just never had a chance to happen. When I started here I'd been in a relationship for over a year and it was pretty serious. And Sandy almost always has a boyfriend du jour, even though they never seem to last more than a few weeks.

Eventually the thing between my girlfriend and I hit a dead end because I found out that she wasn't what I thought she was, and Sandy was a real friend then. She helped me through it. But she was pretty wrapped up in a guy right then so it was more like sister-brother than anything else. And of course, before long I found a rebound girlfriend, right about the time Sandy broke up again.

That didn't last too long for me, it was just something to get my mind straight again and get a little nooky at the same time, but it was long enough that Sandy had been through two other dudes. Funny thing about her. I know it sounds like she just sleeps around all over the place. In a way that's true, but she's always been real serious about the guy of the moment. Then something always seems to go wrong. And I have to listen to another sad story. Well, she helped me out big-time, more than once, and that's what friends are for. She knows she can cry on my shoulder any time she needs it, and there's times it's been pretty wet.

But have I ever thought about her? Well yeah! I'll kill you if you ever tell her, but the fact is, she's a real piece of ass! As built as any woman I've known, maybe more so, and gorgeous dark red hair to boot. But just the way things have gone, it's more like I'm the guy with the sister that's way hotter than anyone else I know. Not that I have a sister, but I can imagine. You grow up with someone, play together, have the usual rivalries, but end up being closer friends than with anyone else. And then you realize, she's grown up to be a brick outhouse. There's gotta be times when you look. And you think.

We did get in trouble once. Dave called us both into his office and laid down the law. Someone, he wouldn't say who, had bitched about the way we acted and what we said. And we had to tone it way down NOW or else! Of course we both knew who it was, the little snot, but before too long she went someplace else and so did the problem.

We went out and got drunk together that day. As a matter of fact, she did kiss me then. But I was too fucking pickled to do anything about it. So was she. I woke up in her apartment the next morning, on the couch, but we both had our clothes on from the day before, so for sure, nothing happened. And it was no time before we were back to our old routine. Dave walked by my office when we were giving it to each other one day and just shook his head.

Now the fact is, and she knows it, dammit, she can get me pretty riled up. There's been times when I've had a pretty good lump in my pants. Fortunately it's usually been when I've been behind a desk or something and she can't see, but there have been a few times. Then she just looks down then looks me right in the eyes and gives me that damn smirk. But she never says a word. And I always wonder what she really thinks about giving me a hard-on.

She just delights in giving me detailed accounts of what she did with her "friend" the night before. Funny, she never says anything really graphic, but makes damn sure I know exactly what she means. Code. Like, "I wonder if I'll ever get those panties back. Dammit, they were from Vicky's!" Or, "If he was a cat he could lick cream out of a coke bottle!" I spent the day wishing I could figure a way to stretch my tongue.

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It's only 7:30 AM; I always come in early on Friday so I can boogie a little early and beat the rush to "Johnny's Pizza". "Hey Bill, come on in!" Wow, she's not usually this early. And she's being nice, must not be awake yet!

"What's up, buttercup, you sleep here last night?" I get a smile and a little giggle.

"Nah, bright eyed and bushy-tailed. And no wise-cracks. But I wanted to prove to you that sometimes I actually do listen to you. I went shopping last night."

And she gets up from her desk and slowly walks to the end and leans back against it, a big smile on her face, pointed right at me. What the hell? And then I see. Oh my fucking god! She's got four inch heels on and her legs stretched out at a little angle, toes pointed. And I hope I'm not drooling as I look at the sheer black fishnets with a floral pattern woven in. And a black skirt that doesn't cover her knees. I don't have to say a word, my face says it all. Close your mouth, jerk.

"Oh my god, Sandy!" I finally manage to get that much out.

The smile gets bigger and she stands up, then walks to the far end of the office so I have a really good view, and turns around once. Then again, more slowly. "Well, it was your idea. You like?"

"Honey, I like. A lot!" Then I recover, just a bit. "But I'm not sure how much yet. I need to see those lacey bands on top." Let's see how she meets that challenge.

"As usual, never satisfied!" But she reaches to the side of her skirt and pulls the hem up one leg, until I can just see the bottom edge of the elastic top.

"Well, I can tell it's there. Now let's see it!"

She slides the skirt up another three inches, until I can just see the frilly lace on the top. My god! I knew she had good legs but this is to die for. Billy boy, you were righter than you knew!

"Mmmmmm, Sandy, that's ... damn! Fucking gorgeous! But to really get the full effect I need to see both legs.

She doesn't say a word, but the smile is even bigger, and she doesn't hesitate either. And her other hand pulls up the opposite side. And dammit. Yes, there's a lump in my pants, which I try to cover a little with my hand. True enough, you'd see a lot more in any normal bathing suit, but there is something unbelievably erotic about this. Right here in the office. And knowing she's doing this just for me. Especially that!

"Beautiful babe! I gotta hand it to you. But just a little higher, I can't quite see the tops." I'm lying about that of course.

But she slides the hem up another inch. And now I can see.

"Perfect! And the black panties are just right!" I say with a laugh, figuring I've gotten her to show way more than she'd planned. The lump is bigger. And she's staring right at it. And then she does it.

She giggles and for just a second, yanks the whole front of the skirt up right to her waist and I can see the sheer, lacy black bikini panties with the double straps. And then she drops it. Show's over. But she walks back and forth across the office in front of me a couple of times, so I can get the full effect.

And her voice is still soft as she says, "I figured I owed you that Billy. Because I have to admit, I've looked at stockings like these for so long! But you were right, I didn't have the guts. Especially in here. I thought about it though, after you said that, and I figured, what the hell, you only live once. If Bill likes it, can't be that bad! And now I can see you do!" She giggles again, louder now, with that little smirk. And stares right at my crotch. And I move my hand away. Might as well show my appreciation for the show. And I swear, she licks her lips!

Yes dammit, I'm aroused. Never quite this much before over Sandy. But then, nothing like this ever happened before between us. Especially, not so personal, intimate. But I recover a little and try to shake it off.

"Well assuming you get lucky enough to hook up with some guy again, you'll have to be careful if you wear that outfit or he'll cream his pants before he does you any good. 'Cuz yeah babe, that's hot. Really! Too bad it has to be wasted on the office today."

"Don't you worry Billy boy, I plan to wear this outfit more than just in the office. And as a matter of fact, I bought a couple more pairs while I was at it. And if some guy gets really lucky he'll get a show; all he wants. So don't worry about me, I already have someone in mind. But thanks for the idea. And the appreciation too. Oh, by the way, if the offer's still there, I'd like that ride tonight. Somehow I feel like getting a really nice buzz on. Maybe it's just being dressed like this. You think?" And she giggles again.

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This whole day I've been hearing hushed comments about Sandy. Part complimentary, part amazement. Even Frank stopped by my office and asked me what the hell was going on with my "other half". He's called her that for years, even though he knows there's nothing going on between us, because we work so closely and well and spend so much time with our heads together. "She got another one on the line, or is she trolling?" He asked.

All I gave him was a non-committal "Who knows with her?" not wanting to admit I had anything to do with it or have the slightest idea.

The day's been a pretty ordinary Friday, and I managed to wrap up some loose ends, straighten out Tom and help out a couple of the analysts, but a nagging thought keeps popping into my mind. I keep mulling over what I saw this morning, and every time the reaction is the same. I see Sandy in a whole new light. But then I think about what she said about a new guy. Like I told Frank, who knows who she's interested in now or where she found him. But if she dresses in "my" stockings, he hasn't got a chance unless he's queer. And for the first time in seven years, I have to grudgingly admit, I'm a little jealous!

4:30 finally rolls around and after I clean up the office a little bit, I'm outa here. I know she'll be ready; she never has more than a pencil and one sheet of paper on her desk.

Sure enough, she pops up and heads out the office door and we waste no time getting to the parking garage. The pizza place is only a half mile or so, but the traffic sucks this time of day on Friday. While we're sitting at a light I can't resist looking over at those legs, and I get a shit-eating grin as she pulls the hem up to the top of the lace again. Dammit, now she's a cock tease! But I s'pose I didn't have to look. It's almost 5:30 before we're in "our" booth near the back and getting a head start with a couple of beers, waiting for the others.

On the way over she asked if I'd heard any comments about her today, but I lied and said, "Nah, not really. Jason wanted to know who the old lady with the rubber stockings was though." He's the intern I was kidding her about, but the remark I actually heard was a mild compliment, "Sandy looks really nice today." For thanks I got a hard smack in the ribs.

I usually sit opposite her, against the wall, but today she grabbed my wrist and pulled me in next to her. "With this short skirt, I don't want some jerk next to me. Well at least, not a bigger jerk."

She inhales the first beer and is on the second before the booth is full. And by the time the booths on either side are full too that's about gone. She wasn't kidding when she said she wanted a little buzz. But she nurses the third, and before long I'm about caught up to her. The pizzas arrive and we chow down, but I notice she's just picking at it, not that she eats much, but at least a good slice. Not today though. I manage a couple of them and lean back, giving them room to digest.