Dwight threw down his pencil in frustration. He was trying to balance the books for his company, but the accounting had simply gotten too complex, even for a small firm with relatively straightforward finances, like Dwight's. He hated to do it, but Dwight decided he should get an accountant and let the accountant help out. He didn't really want to use a service or call some firm that supplies temps probably less capable than himself, but he remembered a woman he had met at a local concert who told Dwight she was an accountant.
Her real name slipped his mind at the moment, although her body did not. She had said her friends called her Fraggles; as Dwight recalled, she was built more like Jessica Rabbit or some buxom animé vixen than a Fraggle.
The bar had been rowdy, he had gone with friends, and somehow he had not been able to make as much of a connection as he would have liked. He did, however, get her phone number, even if he had yet to follow up.
Now, though, he was thinking he might be able to tap into her accounting expertise to help with his immediate need. If everything went well with that, he might even be able to tap into something else to help with some other needs. She had shown every sign of being friendly and that was just what Dwight needed - a friendly accountant with a knockout figure.
The scrap of paper Fraggles wrote her number on was still in Dwight's wallet and he found it easily. Hesitating, trying to decide whether he really wanted to do this or not, Dwight tried to remember some details of how she had looked that evening.
It had just been a small concert at Manny's Smokehouse, featuring Spottiswoode & His Enemies, a band from Boston that was struggling to break out of the regional scene. There couldn't have been more than fifty people in the room and most were there more to drink than to listen. Fraggles had stood out in the crowd, wearing a short red dress that flattered her legs and displayed some of the finest breasts this side of a porn site. Truth was, Dwight had been so fascinated by those big titties, he couldn't recall a lot of other details. Those breasts had made her the smokiest thing in the entire club.
She had a pretty face, he remembered, with lips that made Dwight wonder how they would feel to kiss. Or to feel wrapped around his dick. There had been a definite aura of sensuality and suggestiveness in the way Fraggles walked and stood and twirled. It was obvious she was comfortable with her sexuality and she wanted others to know it.
That was enough. Dwight pulled out his cell phone and punched in Miss Fraggles' number, before he wasted any more time thinking about it. A couple of rings and she answered.
"Hi. This is Dwight. We met down at the Spottiswoode concert at Manny's a couple weeks ago."
"Oh, yes, I remember you, Dwight. I wasn't sure you were going to call. You seemed interested that night, if I recall, but then I didn't hear from you."
"Uh ... well ... I definitely was interested. And I should have called earlier. Definitely should have called earlier. Actually, though, this is more of a business call. I was thinking I might be able to hire your expertise."
"Dwight, I'm not that kind of woman, silly. What I do, I do because I like it."
"No, no. I didn't mean to imply that. You said you are an accountant and I need someone to help me with a small accounting task. I thought you might like to earn a few extra dollars in your spare time helping me out with my business' books. It shouldn't take a good accountant more than an hour or two. I would pay you well."
"I don't have a lot of spare time, Dwight, but I can carve out a few hours for you and your needs, I guess. Would Saturday work for you?"
Dwight and Fraggles settled on a plan. She would meet him at his office that Saturday and he would show her what he needed done. She could make a decision at that point whether it was something she wanted to get involved with, or not.
When Saturday rolled around, Fraggles took a little extra time getting ready. Normally, she might just slip on some jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt for an informal meeting like this one, but she decided she wanted to make more of an impression than the norm. She reddened slightly, as she admitted to herself that her reasons were personal rather than professional.
She had been intrigued by Dwight that night at Manny's. He was different from the other men there. He was drinking and having fun, for sure, but she remembered how his eyes had always been alive, taking in his surroundings with an unusual level of attentiveness. When he looked at her, she had felt as if he were seeing things other men did not. Yes, he had been mesmerized by her titties (and she touched them lovingly as she remembered), but he had gazed into her eyes with an intensity that implied he was seeing not just her eyes, but her thoughts. It had caused her to tingle that first night, and she found herself tingling again as she remembered those hazel eyes penetrating her in a manner that seemed almost sexual. A man should be arrested for taking liberties with her the way Dwight had with his eyes.
Fraggles also remembered Dwight's toned, athletic body. The way he moved with an ease and grace that belied the tequila he had been drinking. He had seemed very much in control of himself and his situation, like someone used to being in command of his world. She had noticed other women sneaking peeks at Dwight during the course of the evening, even some who were there with other men. It was hard to define, exactly, what it was about him, but he had a calm, confident manner that suggested he could handle anything, and anyone, who crossed his path. Another little bolt of excitement shot through Fraggles' as she flashed back to Dwight's presence.
She wanted to make sure Dwight wouldn't wait so long to call again. So she slipped on a little black dress more appropriate for clubbing than for accounting. It displayed her large, luscious breasts (the physical asset she was most proud of) to their absolute best advantage. A tiny pair of silk panties went under the dress, barely covering her neatly trimmed and scented pussy. She finished off the outfit with a redder, bolder lipstick than she normally wore. The kind of red lipstick that looked good on a man's cock after it had been properly sucked. She smiled as that thought went through her head.
Dwight's office was in a renovated building in LoDo, down on Market Street. It was the type of place with a lot of exposed brick walls, giant wooden beams and an abundance of plants. The essence of gentrified, yuppified downtowns everywhere. Not a look that particularly appealed to Fraggles, but one that was omnipresent, it seemed.
As it turned out, Dwight's suite, #608, was on the top floor of his building. Frags rode the elevator to the top and strode confidently into his outer office. Dwight was not there so she called his name as she took in the surroundings. Even Fraggles had to admit that it looked classy, with a giant arched window that stretched almost to the 13 foot ceiling, overlooked 16th Street Mall and bathed the office in natural light.
Dwight stepped out from a connected room and stopped short as he took in Fraggles in all her sensual, sexy glory. His eyes flickered slightly and he bit his lower lip lightly before he came over and greeted her. He started to stick out a hand to shake, but Fraggles moved in and gave him a warm hug, instead, making sure he would feel her breasts as they pressed against him.
"Well", he said, "you certainly look lovely today."
"It was warm. I thought this would work." And Fraggles twirled around, giving Dwight a nice look at every inch of her body. He appeared to approve. In fact, Frags noticed a stirring in the pleats of Dwight's Dockers as he took in the sights.
