This story is about one incredible night I had five years ago in New York City. It is still hard for me to believe that evening unfolded the way it did, but it remains one of my most prized memories and a constant source of fantasy for me. This story is about Sophie.
My name is Steven. I own a commercial furniture company in Hartford, Connecticut and have lived a pretty straight-forward life over the years. I met Sophie for the first time when she came to interview for an interior design position in our sales and design division. She had responded to an ad we'd placed, her resume had been impressive, and I had called to bring her in for a face-to-face. She was employed at the time so we had to meet on a Saturday.
I was very pleased when she walked through the door. She was 5'-6" tall, had long, silky, dark blond hair, a sweet and very friendly face and a solid body. She wore glasses that afternoon, which I never saw her wear again. I guess she wore them for effect. She had tailored slacks, slight heels, and wore a fitted jacket that hugged her body. Even the several layers she wore couldn't hide that fact that she had some very nice curves.
She was of Baltic descent, but had grown up in Wisconsin and been educated there as well. Upon graduation she and her boyfriend moved east to follow a job offer for him. Sophie worked in a few firms in the area, but was looking for advancement and more money, so she had responded to our classified ad. She had married the same boyfriend, her childhood sweetheart I later found out, and they were looking to settle into the Hartford area and buy a house.
I was struck by her friendly nature and warm personality. She had a real "girl next door" quality and seemed like she'd make a great addition to our office. I offered her a position; she accepted and said she'd start in a few weeks after giving notice to her current employer. I was looking forward to her joining our staff.
And I was right -- she did fit right in. She had a warm bubbling personality that everyone gravitated toward and her charm and good nature made her an instant success with clients as well. Once she'd been in the office for a few weeks I came to appreciate what a lovely woman she was, particularly physically.
She had an open and expressive face and always had a smile. Her shoulders were broad, but tapered down to a very slender waist and a generously round rear end.
I loved to watch her hands. Her fingers were slender and she wore several silver rings. I often imagined her fingers wrapped gently around my cock, slowly stroking me. I also noticed how hairless her forearms were. I could only think that her pubis was crowned with downy hair. The thought never failed to make me hard.
But there were two physical attributes that stood out above all others: she had beautiful large brown eyes and absolutely incredible breasts.
Her eyes were the crowning touch of her beautiful face. "Blow job eyes" a friend of mine had called them, and I had to admit I did find myself fantasizing about watching my cock slide between her sweet pouty lips while she looked up at me with those gorgeous orbs.
Her breasts were undeniably magnificent. They were round, full and natural and I guessed them to be 36 D -- maybe even a DD. She always wore tops that accented their fullness, usually tight sweaters or clinging tops. Despite her seeming innocence, she knew she had an amazing asset and she was obviously proud of her tits and seemed very comfortable displaying them.
I loved to watch her walk across the office, seeing her breasts bounce tightly within the confines of her bra. I always figured her bras had their work cut out for them. She was good at what she did, and everyone liked working with her, but there was no doubt that her nice round boobs were adored by every male (and female) worker or client that came in contact with her.
I noticed every so often that her nipples would suddenly make their presence known, poking out proudly and on the very tips of her breasts. She had to know that her nipples were protruding through her tight sweaters, but she seemed almost oblivious to the fact that her glorious tits took on a whole new dimension when the nipples could be so clearly discerned. I tried not to stare during these fleeting occasions, but it took all my will power to keep from being a drooling fool.
Sophie and I began to work on a few accounts together and I always looked forward to our meetings or occasional trips out of the office to visit customers or make a sales call. I noticed over time that she had a very interesting habit, if you can call it such, that I found most intriguing. When talking with her she would often glance down at my crotch and then bring her focus back to my eyes. She did this quite often, especially when she was sitting at her office cubicle and I stood a few feet away talking about some business thing. She'd look me in the eye, then glance down at my crotch, then look me in the eye again.
I found this incredibly exciting and I could never put my finger on why that was. I didn't wear tight pants or clothing that would give away my own size, but she seemed to make these glances on a quite regular basis. It turned me on, I must say, and I fantasized and masturbated thinking about what she would be like in bed.
One Saturday I came into the office to catch up on some paperwork and Sophie was there working. I had dressed down, of course, and was wearing an old pair of tight jeans that were my typical Saturday apparel. This particular pair had fit to my torso over the years, and when seated my considerable bulge was wedged nicely into the crotch of my jeans. If Sophie paid a visit today, she would indeed get an eyeful. It excited me to think that she might actually get some indication of my own size and girth.
An hour after arriving I heard her clear her throat behind me. I swiveled in my chair and looked into her eyes. She asked a few questions about an account we were working on together, but after less than a minute talking I saw her glance down at my groin. I swore I saw her do a little double-take as she refocused her gaze looking directly at my face. We began a casual conversation as she perched on the conference table in my office. I would occasionally look away as we spoke and I could feel her gaze turn to my bulge. I'd look back and she'd quickly return her eyes to mine. I felt like I was playing a little game with her and the appearance of her stiff nipples through the very thin sweater she wore was a testament to the fact that I was right. I loved the fact that she was looking at me and probably wondering how big I really was. I stared at her beautiful round breasts and she stared at my considerable package and we each seemed content to let the other admire our wares.
But Sophie was recently married and I had been a faithful husband for 22 years so the game we were playing was just a form of flirting. But it turned me on, nevertheless, and I had a feeling that Sophie harbored a secret fascination and interest in my own endowments.
One day Sophie came to me to express an interest in attending Neocon in New York -- a furniture show that was the east coast showcase for commercial interiors. It's been discontinued since 9/11, but that year it was still going strong and was a huge show. I was planning on attending for a few days as I usually do and the fact that Sophie was interested was intriguing. She was very busy and really couldn't afford too many days out of the office, but she offered to attend just one day and, perhaps, we could cruise the aisles of the exposition together.
Sophie made plans to come down to New York a night early and stay with friends in the city. She'd meet me at the Javits Center and then take a train home at the end of the day. I was planning to stay another day for a few seminars. We confirmed out plans and I looked forward to spending some time with her outside the office.
I enjoyed my first day in New York, but I have to admit that I was really looking forward to having Sophie in the city. I arrived at the Javits the second morning and stood by the Hudson Newsstand at 10am as we had prearranged. I saw her striding across the sunlit lobby -- boobs bouncing, hair flouncing, she was a vision with a smile. We greeted one another with an innocent hug, got our badges and headed into the show.
We spent the morning weaving down the aisles, stopping to see vendors that we work with and checking out any interesting exhibits. Sophie was a shining light and garnered attention wherever she went. I especially enjoyed watching the faces of other conventioneers as we walked the aisles. Men and women alike looked at her as she walked by -- usually focusing on her breasts and then glancing quickly at her face. I loved the fact that she was with me.
Toward late morning we decided to catch an early lunch. We talked about innocent topics, but I did find out that her husband, Alan, was on a business trip in Texas and she was returning to an empty house on her return home. I filed that nugget away and thought about the possibilities.
We churned through the show in the early afternoon hours, but were only partially done as we hit a wall about 3:30. Sophie looked at her watch and frowned as she realized that she was going to have to think about heading to Grand Central to catch a train.
"Listen, Sophie, I have an idea. What's the rush in heading back? Why don't you stay tonight and you can catch a ride back with me tomorrow afternoon. I'm sure my hotel has rooms, this has been a very productive day, and it makes sense to see the rest of the show tomorrow after a good night's sleep." I hesitated. "And I'm your boss and I say it's okay."
She smiled and I could see her brain ticking.
"Well...I guess. I have a meeting tomorrow that I'd have to reschedule." She looked at me quizzically.
"Then call the office and reschedule. This is a great show and it's great having you here to share it with. But I'm exhausted and I think we ought to head over to the hotel, get you settled and then go out and have a nice dinner. What do you say?"
Her smile said it all. She called the office, dispensed with her morning responsibilities and we headed out of the convention center to catch a cab. I was staying at the Intercontinental on the east side. I usually like to avoid the convention hotels in Times Square and make it a point to find a nice hotel off the convention trail. Our cab dropped us off on 48th Street and we headed into the lobby. I had called ahead and confirmed that a nice room would be waiting for Sophie. She checked in and we went our separate ways with plans to meet down in the bar around 5pm.
