"You know Phil, I wish you would call me Breezy."
He looked over the top of his menu at his 22 year old assistant and asked her, "Why would I call you that, Beatrice?"
Breezy smiled and ran her hand through her unnaturally black shoulder length hair, "Because that's what all of his friends call me."
"It would feel a little presumptuous; I'm almost twice your age."
Breezy sat boring a hole through his sole with her eyes. Not for the first time, he tried to figure out what she would look like if she dressed a little more feminine. He knew she was goth or emo or whatever it's called these days on her own time and she toned down her look to be a little more professional on the job, but she always dressed a little boyish, hiding the curves of her hips and ass. Despite the fact she kept her body covered up, Phil could tell she was a lovely woman under there somewhere.
Breezy playfully said, "I'm hurt, I thought we were friends." She winked one of her bright blue eyes at him.
"Okay Breezy, you win." He paused as she smiled at her victory. "Just during dinner tonight." Her smile became a petulant pout.
Phil had always resisted being too familiar with his female subordinates because he didn't think it would be appropriate for him to even appear to flirt with the girls that work for him. The only reason he brought her with him on this trip alone was the fact that she claimed to not be into men. He once overheard Tracy, a hopeful girl in the office, ask if she was lesbian and Breezy had quickly, quietly and definitively said no. Still, her 'no men' pledge meant it was unlikely that anyone else in the office (or his wife, not that she seemed to care) would think that she was trading sex for a promotion.
After dinner they regrouped in his hotel room to go over the proposal they were presenting the next day. While they went over the details, Breezy took off her shoes to get more comfortable and he noticed a series of small tattoos on the top of her right foot that formed a trail up her ankle and disappeared under her pant leg. They were small stars, hearts, diamonds, swirls, and other various charms. Near her toes the trail was narrow, only a quarter inch wide, as it reached her ankle the trail had gradually widened until it was about an inch wide.
When he looked up, he saw she was watching him study her foot.
"Do you like what you see?" she asked playfully.
"It's interesting. I've never really seen a tattoo up close. How far up your leg do they go?"
"All the way to my shoulder." She pointed to a spot on the front of her left shoulder.
"I never noticed before."
"I keep them covered in the office." She sat on the bed and motioned him over to sit next to her. "You can take a closer look if you want."
When he sat down Breezy put her foot in his lap. He brushed his fingers over the colorful images and pushed the loose leg of her masculine suit pants up to get a better look. She had gorgeous legs that he massaged as he ran his fingers over the little pictures inked into her pale, creamy white skin. He pushed her pant leg all the way up past her knee. He was mesmerized by the images and enjoyed the soft feel of her leg while he caressed her flesh so much that he lost track of himself. It had been too long since he had last tenderly touched a woman.
Breezy cleared her throat bringing him back into the real world.
"Very pretty." He said referring to her leg more than the tattoos.
"You have great hands." She said. He had touched her in just the right way to stoke a fire in her. "Your wife is a lucky woman." Reminding him and herself that he had other obligations.
"You should tell her. She doesn't like to be touched." He said too much. His wife and he still had a sex life, but that was it, only sex. No caressing or cuddling. She laid there like she was duty bound and let him do his thing a few times a month. He would lick between her legs until she was wet, then mount her. He wasn't sure if he still loved her, things weren't the same as when they first married. She loathed more contact than required. He was becoming more certain everyday that she didn't love him; he was only a meal ticket. He would complain but he was getting a lot more sex than his friends who only got sex on their birthdays or if they got their wives really drunk. Maybe he could work it out. Find what was lost.
"Her loss." Breezy said as she looked down at her foot, which Phil was still holding in his lap. He figured she was asking him to let go, but he really wanted to keep on going, even if it wasn't going to lead to anything else.
"How about a foot massage?" Phil offered.
"Awesome!" He was a little surprised at how quickly and enthusiastically she responded. She put her other foot in his lap too.
He stood up letting her feet drop. "Lay flat on the bed." He ordered. When she was situated, he pulled her pants up her slim legs as far as they would go, exposing her to about mid thigh. He started on her left foot and gradually worked his way up to the pant cuffs stretched around her thigh, and then he moved to the other foot and repeated the process. Breezy would moan and writhe around when he hit the right spots. After he finished with her exposed skin, he lightly trace his fingers along the inside of her thigh over the tattoos. He joked, "If you want me to keep going the pants will have to come off."
She didn't hesitate one moment. Her hands fiddled with the front of her pants and an instant later, she had them off. His eyes searched over her 5 foot 4 inch body. Breezy had a great figure. She had slender legs wide hips and a small firm butt. She laid back in her black low cut cotton panties. He could see a hint of her narrow waist disappearing under the dress shirt she wore. 'Too bad I'm married and she's not into guys' he thought. He found her very desirable.
Phil went back to work on her left leg starting at the knee. As he worked her thigh, he felt a little guilty, he was getting way too much enjoyment out of this. He was hard in his pants. He hoped she didn't notice. When he reach her underwear line he switched legs. The tattoos on her right leg stayed toward the inside of her thigh before disappearing into her knickers next to her pubic mound. The tattoo trail was about two inches wide in this area.This time she moaned and grunted throughout the massage. He spent way too much time in the gap between her thighs and got way too close to her covered privates. He even palmed her covered ass a few times. They had long since crossed the line of what could be seen as appropriate. He would have stopped, but Breezy kept encouraging him to keep going. She would gasp, "yes" or moan "right there" at the exact moments he thought he had gone to far. Twice he pulled back when he felt he was in a danger zone (like the first time he squeezed her ass) and she would say, "no, don't stop."
She wanted him. She wasn't going to make the first move, but if he did she was planning on saying yes, and he seemed to be well on his way.
When he was done, he lightly traced the path of tattoos again. Breezy looked like she really enjoyed his light brushes so he got bold enough to allow his fingers follow the trail all the way to her underwear.
"Where does it go from here?" He asked tracing around her cotton covered mound, asking about both the tattoo trail and the path of sexual interaction they were on.
Breezy shuddered and squealed under her breath in time with his light touches on her mons. She didn't verbally respond as she pulled the bottom hem of her shirt up to just below her breasts. The tattooed path exited her panties in the center below her navel. It veered off to the left side of her flat abdomen and went up the side of her ribcage as far as he could see.
He seemed stuck, so Breezy sat up and asked, "Will you do full body?"
