Here's a memory that goes back a number of years. I was out of college and had established myself in an I.T. career, doing programming and application development. I had a job I really liked at MegaInsuraCare - I was part of a small team that was considered the elite. My manager liked me, and became something of a mentor to me - in part, because I not only knew my stuff technically, but I also had enough social skills to talk to non-technical users (as opposed to a couple of the Poindexters on our team who were brilliant technically, but whose social skills and personal hygiene were *severely* lacking.)
So it wasn't unusual for me to be assigned a project with a non-technical business unit. I would go in and work with them, figure out what they needed, translate their requirements into technical terms, and write a program for them to use. This was fun work - I did it well, and I often felt like a hero when I could write a little program that made their jobs way easier.
This particular project was for a small group in Marketing Support. We had never worked with them before, and they were in something like the Dark Ages in terms of office automation. We had some meetings, and it quickly became clear that I could do some simple things that would quickly bring them into the 20th century. They were excited about the project, and their group leader assigned Heather to be my point-of-contact.
Initially, I wasn't wild about her selection. Most of the people in the group were women, and almost all were attractive - even the manager (or maybe I should say, especially the manager) who was a 40-ish busty, dark-haired knockout. I can't say I didn't sometimes daydream about what some of these ladies had on under their business skirts and suits. Heather was certainly as attractive as any of them - probably in her middle 20's, slim, medium height, strawberry blonde hair. But it seemed to me that there was something snooty about her - nothing obnoxious, just a slight air of the high school prom queen, or the president of the sorority. In other words, the girls I wasn't dating in high school or college.
But it worked out better than I had hoped. She was pleasant and competent, and we got along well. She was chatty, where I was more reserved. She would ask on a Monday how my weekend was (and seemed genuinely interested in my answers), and would tell me about her fiance Doug and their upcoming wedding. It was friendly and pleasant - nothing more, and certainly not flirtatious or sexually charged. Of course I fantasized about her falling to her knees and begging me to take her, but then in those days I fantasized about almost anything wearing a skirt.
As the project was nearing completion, my manager asked me to come into his office, and told me that I was being assigned immediately to a new, more important project. If I could finish up Heather's project off-hours, that was fine, but my priority had to be the new project.
I told them that I was juggling some things and would be working some off-hours. It all worked out well, but it reached the point where I had to get together with Heather for acceptance testing. We would walk through the system together and get her thoroughly familiar with it, so that she could then train the rest of her group. This would take a chunk of time that I couldn't spare during the work day. I asked her if she could come in Saturday morning at 9am. She said that would be fine, and told me she'd bring coffee.
I sometimes came into the office to get things done on a Saturday morning, and it was somewhat enjoyable, in it's own way. The normally hectic office was deserted and quiet, and I could really think or be productive. I also liked the location of my cube - it was along a wall, next to a row of windows, and I could look out into the woods behind our building. It wasn't a private office, but it was fairly secluded for a cubicle.
I was already there at 9:00, set up and ready to go, when she arrived with two large coffees. I did a mental double-take when I saw her, and probably a physical double-take as well. It was a sunny, warm spring morning, and she looked amazing. I was used to seeing her in business attire, but this was sorority girl/country club casual - pressed denim skirt well above the knee, scoop-neck t-shirt, and sandals. She looked like a million bucks - certainly not like someone who woke up and threw on whatever was handy (as I had.) And of course there was that big gaudy rock on her finger.
She was all bubbly enthusiasm as we went through the system. I was very much aware of her presence next to me as we sat closely side-by-side at my desktop PC, but I wouldn't have described the situation as sexually charged. Of course I was attracted to her - I thought she was sexy as hell, but I didn't get any vibe from her that this was anything but a friendly business meeting. Which is why what happened next was such a surprise.
We wrapped up training session, and she thanked me for all my help and hard work, and I responded in all sincerity that it was my pleasure. She put her palm on the front of my shoulder and repeated "Your pleasure...?" in a soft voice. I didn't know what she meant, or what to say in response, so I sat there dumbly. She stood up, still touching my arm, pushed a few things out of the way, and sat down on the desk in front of me. She put one bare foot on one arm of my chair, then traced her other bare foot up my leg before putting it on the other arm of my chair.
I looked up at her, and there was a flushed look on her face. She gave me something akin to the little girl eyelash-batting "will you please?" look that's made me do so many things against my better judgment over the years...but this was different...this was offering, not asking. I was partly paralyzed from shock, but I quickly recovered enough of my wits to know that this was an offer I wasn't refusing.
--------------------------
I touched her ankles and l slowly ran my hands up her shins to her knees. Her skirt was still in place, but she was rocked back enough that I could see her thighs up under the skirt, and a flash of white panty where they met. Her legs were smooth and tan and warm to the touch. I tentatively...gingerly nudged her knees slightly further apart, and she smiled, as if giving me the permission that I was wordlessly seeking.
I was still recovering from my surprise at this unexpected turn of events, and I'm sure the look on my face was priceless. Thoughts were flying through my head faster than I could pin them down. "Is this really happening?" "How goddamn cool is this!" "Are we going to get caught/fired/humiliated?"
This last thought settled down long enough to be rationally examined. It did seem relatively safe. I hadn't heard anyone else in the office this morning, and I thought I would hear the door a split second before anyone actually came in. There *was* a chance of being caught, but that just added to the excitement.
It was time to see exactly what was being offered. I slid my hands up the inside of her thighs and she leaned back into a half-sitting, half-reclining position, which lifted her skirt higher on her thighs. I could now see all the way up Broadway. She was wearing plain white cotton bikini panties, and I thought to myself that this was a spur-of-the-moment decision for her. If she had planned this, I'm sure she would have worn something fancier. But the thought that this was spontaneous made me happy. My hands reached the tops of her thighs, and I gently touched her pussy through the soft cotton. She was smiling a very pleased smile at me, and I gently stroked her, feeling the heat of her pussy.
My hands moved to her hips and grasped the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips, and I slid them down her legs and off. I noticed as she steadied herself on the desk that she had removed her engagement ring at some point. I smiled to myself and thought that what Doug doesn't know won't hurt him.
She bunched the skirt up around her waist, and I was looking at the prettiest pussy I had ever seen - either in real life or in the centerfold of a magazine. it was a work of art, puffy outer lips surrounding a perfect pink slit, with a light covering of short red/blonde curls. If this happened today today, I'm certain she would shave her pussy, as she was stylish in every way, but this was before the time when that was done.
I'm sure my face showed my admiration for what I was seeing, and she beamed a fairly self-satisfied smile as I spread her legs wider. I had never been with anyone so uninhibited about showing her sex - certainly not with someone who would spread wide on a desktop in broad daylight without the slightest embarrassment. I didn't know such women existed, and it was a thrilling discovery I filed away for future reference.
I cupped her pussy with one hand, then ran one finger up and down, tracing her lips, then parting them and feeling her wetness for the first time. I spread her lips with one hand, then got my finger nice and wet and moved up to circle her clit. I heard a sharp intake of breath as I touched her clit, and slowed down, stroking her slowly and gently.
