No Accounting for Taste

This is a new storyline, but all the usual rules apply. All characters are over the age of eighteen.

Please let me know what you think, and cast your votes when you're done.

Oh, and no accountants were harmed during the writing of this tale.

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"I'm telling you, Gary, accountants are not supposed to look like that," she said, gesturing in the general direction of the tall brunette.

"Really?" I laughed, arching my eyebrows and, turning to see for myself. The woman in question had her back to me, so my ability to make a judgement was limited. She did have nice legs, though. Long, lean, and ending in what appeared to be a pretty firm, tight ass, which was covered by a pretty conservative skirt, navy blue in colour. The skirt matched the jacket, and a long ponytail of thick, dark brown hair hung down the middle.

"So tell me, Helen, what's an accountant supposed to look like?" I asked. Helen was a good friend, quite attractive...and a totally unabashed lesbian, who usually sniffed out the hot women before I did. I could have responded that lesbians weren't supposed to look like she did, but we'd had that conversation before. According to her, she was the best licker of feminine flesh in the history of oral sex. She even offered to prove it once ; all I had to do was give her a shot at my then-girlfriend's pussy, and I was welcome to watch. I almost took her up on it, but wasn't sure my ego could take the abuse. Losing a girl to another guy was bad enough. If she was as good as she said she was, I might find out about losing one to a woman. I didn't like that idea.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "You know...meek, mousy, conservative. That sort of thing. A geek. Boring. Plain." I was looking at Helen as she spoke, and she suddenly leaned closer. "Just not like a hybrid porn star - stripper - fashion model." She gestured again, and I looked.

Oh. My. God. The woman had turned toward, and was walking in our direction.

Helen's finely tuned pussy radar was accurate, as usual.

The skirt and jacket were conservative, all right. So too, the hairstyle. Even the glasses, with rectangular black frames, were pretty plain. That's where it ended.

Nearly six feet in her high, sexy heels, she would have attracted attention for her height alone, but tall wasn't the only descriptive that fit her perfectly. Statuesque. Breathtaking. Beautiful, while applicable, was an understatement. As she walked, there was extra movement under the snug jacket, which begged closer observation, and another string of adjectives, that included busty, buxom, top heavy, and hubba hubba.

The goddess glided past on her heels, glancing at me as she did with her perfect, blue eyes. A small smile crossed her perfect lips, and I think she nodded slightly.

She was past now, and I turned to watch her wiggle away. Helen's hand reached in and closed my mouth, which was hanging open.

"Real subtle, slick," she laughed, patting my shoulder. "Why don't you just drool on her shoes? Gawking aside, you see what I mean, now?"

"Uh...yeah. I do," I replied, still watching her ass. "Accountant, huh? Wow."

So, that was when I first saw Jane Smith. She certainly had the name for an accountant, but, as Helen had observed, the body of a porn star, and the face of a fashion model. Work just got a whole lot more interesting.

***

I didn't cross paths with Jane that often, but when I did, those few instances were seared into my brain.

Passing her in the hallway was always problematic. Most companies, ours included, have well documented and strict policies regarding sexual harassment, and it doesn't take much to make an accusation. While she never dressed provocatively, she didn't wear a cast iron bra, so her big boobs were always quite active when she walked by. I tried looking her in the eyes...I tried looking away...but those major melons had a gravitational pull that was insurmountable. I inevitably snuck a peek, and she inevitably caught me, giving me a wry smile before she passed from view.

Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind the attention, and never said a word.

One day, I went to Helen's office for a chat, and found her sitting there glumly, staring out the window. I assumed the worst, that she was being let go, but that wasn't the case.

"No, no, no," she said, forcing a smile. "Nothing quite that dramatic, I'm afraid. I just got shot down, that's all."

"Shot down? Sorry to hear that," I said quietly. "By whom, if you don't mind telling me?"

"Um...none other than our own resident sexpot accountant, Jane Smith." She looked at me sheepishly. "I took a shot. She's so fucking hot, I would really like to get a piece of that, so I asked her out. She turned me down, politely, of course, and said she was very flattered, but she wasn't interested in women."

My brain had made it as far as her asking Jane out, then jumped ahead to images of the tall, busty brunette writhing under Helen's talented tongue. It was quite a picture, causing my dick to swell, and my mouth to drop open again.

"Jesus, Gary...don't be such a Neanderthal," she laughed, reading my expression correctly. "I said she turned me down, remember?"

Yes

, I thought,

but now I have this image stuck in my head. Thanks for that. As if I didn't have enough fantasies about her already

.

The next day, my new imagery was put to the test. Her she came, teetering past on her high heels, a knowing smile on her face, and a bright sparkle in those blue eyes. She was making things especially hard today (pardon the pun) as her jacket had been left in her office. She had a file folder in one hand and a coffee in the other.

I saw her as soon as she rounded the corner. I have eyes that immediately notice a certain movement...an ex-girlfriend called it my 'boob-dar', or boob radar...and Jane was definitely not running in stealth mode. I don't know what fabric her smoky grey blouse was made of, but it hung like curtains over her full breasts, announcing every little twitch, bounce and jiggle loudly.

She saw me, trying desperately to avert my eyes, and slowed as she passed. She made eye contact and smiled, nodding slightly, and breathing a quiet greeting.

"Hello, Gary."

That was it, just two words, my first experience with her heavenly, lilting voice. She caught me off guard, and didn't stop her passage, so by the time I formulated a response, she was out of range. I stopped and turned, which only got me a great view of her sexy ass wiggling a few steps, before she turned slightly, and smiled again. She was toying with me, that much was clear. Still, the game might be fun.

This 'ships that pass in the hall' routine continued for weeks, a few times each week, and our eye contact grew a little longer each time.

I was in my office one Monday, pecking at my keyboard in my usual manner, when a knock got my attention. I looked up to see Jane standing in my doorway. It was the first time I had seen her other than in passing, and I wondered what was up.

"I have a few questions about this item on your expense report," she said, her voice a symphony to my ears. The first words other than a few simple greetings, her speech was delightful, yet businesslike. "Do you have a minute for me?"

Do I have a minute for you?

I thought.

Are you kidding? Of course, take all the time you want

.

"Please," I gestured to the chair, "take a seat. What's the question?"

Why, yes, I'd love to see you naked. Thank you for asking

.

"Nothing major," she said, placing the report on my desk. She leaned forward, pointing to the item in question, while I fought valiantly to keep from letting my eyes go to her items in question. I believe you can guess what those would be, and given that this was my first opportunity to sneak a peek down her blouse, I really,

really

wanted that peek. "Here...this item...La Roberge..."she said, tapping the paper with a perfectly manicured fingertip. Her nail polish, a deep, sexy red, gleamed in the light. I kept my gaze on the paper, until she asked her question.

"That's a restaurant, I assume...you've got it listed under client entertainment?" she asked. I shifted my eyes from her fingers, to her eyes, flitting briefly past the view I so desperately wanted to spend some time appreciating. Looking at her eyes and face from this close was enchanting as well. Her lips were eminently kissable, so full, pouty and moist, coloured to match her nails. Her eyes, so wide and expressive, were an incredible icy blue, framed by the black rectangular plastic of her glasses, which looked surprisingly sexy on her. When those eyes looked down again, I took advantage of the shift, and got that peek I wanted. Oh my god.

Her breasts hung like two ripe cantaloupes in her bra, with an unbelievably wide open gap of cleavage. My mouth started to water at the thought of those boobs.

"Um, yes, it's a restaurant," I confirmed.

Oh, okay," she smiled. "I'd just never heard of it, and needed to check. Nice place?"

"Actually, yes...quite nice. French, kind of romantic for a client meeting, but the Savards are French and wanted to try it out. His wife loved it."

"Got their business?" she asked.

"Oh yeah. Mission accomplished," I laughed. "No problem."

"Good," she said quietly, folding her papers and standing up.

My goodness, she was a stunner

. "Nice to finally talk to you, officially, that is." Her eyes sparkled, as did her smile, and she walked out. I might have just imagined it, but it seemed like she swung that luscious rear end a bit more than usual as she did.

From that point on, our interactions were friendlier. When we passed each other, she had a genuine smile for me, and the previous two word greetings were replaced with actual conversation. As I spent more and more time around her, I became smitten, with the idea of being with her, anyway. She was so beautiful, and sexy, I knew I couldn't be alone in that emotion.

Oh well, it was just a fantasy, after all

.

***

The display on my desk phone said 'Smith ext.4424'.

"Twice in three days," I mumbled to myself, "must be my lucky week." I lifted the receiver.

"Hello Gary," Jane said. "I just have one more question for you about that restaurant we talked about on Monday."

"La Roberge? Sure. What can I tell you?" I asked.

"Not a business question, really. I was thinking of going there on Friday night. You made it sound quite interesting. What's good on the menu?" Her voice was casual and friendly.

We talked about the fare for a few minutes, with her asking about this item, and that entrée. She was obviously looking at the menu online while we talked, as she had very specific questions about very specific dishes. I did my best, but my information was limited to the things I had seen during the previous dinner.

"Thanks Gary," she laughed, "I think that about covers it."

"Got a hot date?" I asked, curious about her motivation.

"Maybe," she replied. "I haven't actually asked him yet." When she continued, there was a deep, sexy purr to her voice. "7 sound good?"

Okay, yes, I really am that dense at times. It took me a few seconds to realize that the 'him' she hadn't asked yet was

me

.

"Gary?" she giggled, "you there?"

Damn, she got me again! She's constantly causing me to vapour lock when I talk to her

.

"Gary?"

"Yes, sorry...I'm here," I blurted. "Of course, 7 sounds fine. Meet you there?" I asked, as my brain finally caught up.

"No, I'll pick you up at 6:30," she said sweetly. "I'll get your address from HR. I look forward to it." The line went silent, and I sat there, staring at the receiver in my hand for a minute.

I looked around for Rod Serling.

Nope

. I hung up the phone. It took a few seconds for the message to reach my dick.

Date? Jane? Schwing!

At least I was sitting, and the rock hard bulge in my pants was hidden. Several minutes later, I had managed to override the auto erection mode, and got my hormones under control. The trip to Helen's office was quick.

"What's the grin for?" Helen asked.

"Um, I...uh, you probably won't believe me if I tell you," I laughed. "I'm not sure if I believe it myself."

"Try me," she said. I told her everything.

"You're right. I don't believe it. What have you got that I don't?" she asked sourly.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I chuckled, gesturing toward my crotch, which was still somewhat bloated. "Weren't you paying attention in health class?"

"Yeah, I was...but my teacher was a real babe, so I had other things on my mind," she giggled. "If you get some, I don't wanna know. Lucky bastard."

So, I needed to kill the rest of Wednesday afternoon, then all of Thursday and Friday. I had a feeling my productivity was going to take a hit this week.

Oh well

.

***

Friday. Oh heavenly Friday. I was in a stupor all day, staring at a clock that was conspiring with Jane to drive me insane. The clock was just not moving anywhere near fast enough for me, and Jane seemed to be everywhere I went. I swear I saw her more in one day than I had all month prior to that, and she was looking especially delicious.

Of course, it might have been just my imagination...about the clock, I mean. I wasn't imagining Jane. I wasn't imagining her perfect ass in the hallway ahead of me, swaying hypnotically under her tight skirt. I wasn't imagining her large, quivering breasts jiggling past my office several more times than normal. Mostly, I wasn't imagining her smile, and the sparkle in her eyes.

She stopped at my doorway, standing silently, until I looked up from the work I was trying desperately to distract myself with.

"We're still on for tonight?" she said quietly, licking her lips nervously.

"Absolutely," I replied, equally nervous, but hopefully showing it less. I admit, this was the first time a gorgeous woman had asked me out. I was usually the 'asker', not the 'askee'. I was also usually unsuccessful. It was a new world.

"Good. I'm looking forward to dinner, and getting to know you better," she whispered. "See you at 6:30."

That conversation did nothing to speed up the damn clock. All it did was give me an uncomfortable erection. Again.

The clock did eventually move, crawling toward lunchtime, when Helen stopped by to take me out for lunch.

"Come on, lover boy. Let's go eat," she laughed. "We can talk about your plans for tonight."

I let Helen lead, picking the restaurant, and just following her blindly. Well, not completely blind. I mentioned before that she was quite attractive, and it's true, but since she was a friend, I tended to overlook her obvious sexiness. Blonde, with nice perky tits and a world class rump, she normally attracted all sorts of male attention. Of course, I was privy to her sexual orientation, and knew they were barking up the wrong tree.

The restaurant she picked was one we'd been to several times before. The food was good, and the service was pretty quick, but I knew that those factors were secondary ones in her choice. Usually, when we went there, it was to check out the serving staff, most of which were more delectable than anything on the menu. Girl watching with a lesbian wingman was always fun.

Today, she would be doing most of the ogling on her own. Jane's influence extended beyond the confines of the office, and I found myself daydreaming about what might happen tonight.

"Holy shit, Gary...look at these," Helen whispered, nodding to the left just as our server walked up. I tuned in just as the redhead cruised to a stop beside our table. All the girls here wore the same thing : black skirt, and a white blouse. The colour scheme was the same, but the garments themselves were not, so there were varying lengths to the skirts, and various necklines to their tops. Our waitress was filling hers quite nicely...very nicely, in fact...and the white fabric was stretched tightly across her bustine, testing the strength of the buttons, half of which were undone anyway. I can only assume she knew her target lunch audience, and was operating on the theory that showing her tits led to bigger tips. She was probably right.

With our orders placed, we watched her ass wiggle off to the kitchen. Helen turned to me and smiled.

"She's new. I'd remember a piece of ass like that if I'd met her before," she laughed. "Pretty impressive tits. Makes me thirsty."

"You going to take a shot?" I asked. "Maybe she's a switch hitter?" I still sometimes had a difficult time believing that any beautiful woman could ignore men completely, despite the fact that I was eating lunch with one who did.

"Maybe. Probably not today, though," she said. "Just met, so I don't want to scare her off."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," I replied. "Hey, maybe she'll ask you out!"

"Hah! " she scoffed. "I think you've used up all that luck for both of us. You nervous?"

"Scared shitless!" I admitted. "I'm not used to being the pursued. It's like going on a date with you!"

"You should be so lucky," she giggled, adjusting her rack with a smile. "I'm sure you'll do fine. Just let her take advantage of you." She winked. "Seriously, just relax. It's no different really. If you had asked her, would you be any less nervous?"

"Probably not," I nodded.

"So, there you go. Good luck, have fun, and take pictures!" she laughed, winking again.

I actually felt more relaxed. The redhead, whose name was Giselle, brought our food out promptly and gave both of us another eyeful of her major melons. It's quite possible that her tits were bigger than Jane's, but not by much, and she didn't have Jane's overall effect on me.

Lunch passed quickly, and before I knew it, we were walking back to the office, leaving me with three and a half hours to kill. Shit.

***

I ducked out of work early. Well, it was Friday afternoon, and I was far from alone in that strategy.

I went past Jane's office just in case things had changed, and found her working away. I hadn't been here before, and was surprised to see her at her desk, resting her boobs on the edge as she wrote a note in her ledger. Definitely an attention getter.

"I'm heading out," I said quietly. "See you in a few hours."

"I'll be there," she smiled as she looked up. "I like my men prompt," she laughed, "so don't keep me waiting." Her smile told me it was a facetious warning, but I would be waiting impatiently anyway.

***

My heart was pounding. As it turns out, leaving work early did nothing to calm my nerves, and the clock at home didn't move any faster than the one at work did.

I rubbed one out, to take the edge off. I cleaned up the apartment, and sprayed the living shit out of the place with air freshener, just in case. I had a shower. Finally, at last, the clock read 6:20, and I headed down to the lobby to wait the last few minutes there.

So now I'm outside, trying to be prompt without looking desperate, when a black Mercedes 550SL rolls up. It was some car, and as I drooled over it, the passenger side window dropped smoothly with a gentle whir.

"Hi!" came the voice of an angel from inside. I bent down and looked in.

As if she wasn't intimidating enough to start with, she has to drive one of these, too? I made eye contact.

This was not the same Jane that floated effortlessly through the halls at the office. That Jane kept her hair pulled back, and her cleavage under wraps. Her skirts were long, and her shoes, while tall, were sensible

This Jane was smoking hot, and she wasn't afraid to flaunt it.

For starters, her hair was down, tumbling in luxuriant, loose curls around and over her shoulders. It appeared that she was wearing the quintessential little black dress, that showed a fair bit of firm, muscular thigh through a side slit, but was cut short enough to be eye catching anyway. The top half was equally revealing, but I tried not to stare...at least not yet.