Julie chose a very short skirt today. Her husband commented on it and half jokingly suggested it was a bit too short for work.
"Is it?" asked Julie. "I don't think so and anyway I'm helping one of the directors today and he's at least seventy five so I doubt he'll even notice. It'll have to do as I'm late and don't have time to change. See you later."
She gave him a peck on the cheek, ignoring his hand trying to slide under the hem of her skirt to see whether she was wearing stockings or tights. She always enjoyed working for "her" director, as she called him. The others had their own PAs but Mr M just asked for someone from the general office when he visited. He had started specifically asking her manager if she was available - and she was happy to make sure she was.
As she walked through to his office she could see one or two of the younger managers looking at her. As well as her shortest skirt, she was also wearing quite a low cut top and high heels. Not the highest she owned but the ones her husband said were "the horniest". He had started making comments about how she seemed to take extra care over her outfit when she was covering like this but that was just silly. Mr M was just a sweet old man. Yes they got on well but that was what she liked about her job - everyone was so friendly.
She knocked and went in. A big smile lit up Mr M's face "Hello Julie. You're looking gorgeous, as ever. I see you wore my favourite outfit. That skirt coupled with those shoes make your legs look so sexy I should sit you in another room so I don't get distracted - but I won't!"
Julie tutted. "Now Mr M, you promised you wouldn't make comments like that now that I'm a married woman. Anyway, I just threw these on because they were at the front of the wardrobe."
Julie sat at her desk and started her work. Whenever she looked up Mr M was looking in her direction, smiling. The desks in this room didn't have modesty panels like the ones in the general office. When she asked why, Mr M said it was because his last PA was a man but Julie seemed to remember a succession of rather shapely women as her predecessors.
As usual, as soon as it got to midday Mr M said, "Let's have a spot of lunch, shall we?" Even though he was in his 70s, Mr M drove a low slung sports car. He held open the passenger door for her and she tried to tug her skirt down as she slid into the seat but didn't have much success. "Ah - I see you wore stockings for me." he said, "and suspenders - you are so kind to an old man."
"Not for you Mr. M. Just because the shade goes with this outfit." Julie replied, still tugging at the hem. "Oh I give up! It's impossible to get in this car like a lady. You've seen everything now, I may as well sit in comfort." and with that she slid down into the sumptuous leather seat and allowed her little skirt to inch up bit by bit, until not just her stocking tops but most of her suspenders and the start of her white satin panties were on show. "Just make sure you keep your eyes on the road."
After driving for a little while, they turned a bend to find a red traffic light. Mr M said "Hold tight!" as he braked sharply and put his hand out as you would to stop someone lurching forward - but his hand landed right on Julie's stocking tops. "Oh sorry dear." he said. Julie frowned as she looked at him, as he seemed to take his time removing his hand - and insisted on patting her thighs and giving them a little squeeze once he had.
Lunch was lovely, as always, and as Julie felt the wine flow through her body she became more understanding of Mr M's glances at her legs and at her cleavage. Her husband was always saying that she had great legs - even though they looked a little too shapely to Julie - so it was only natural that Mr M would glance now and then when he was sitting opposite her. However, she did tut a little at his third comment about how nice it was to see her stocking tops. Men!
Lunch passed far too quickly and after a quick trip to the ladies they were driving back to the office so Julie was only too happy to agree when Mr M suggested they try to spot the sea from a quiet little vantage point at the top of a hill. He parked the car and when she reached for the door handle he patted her thigh - a little too high up her leg it seemed to Julie - and insisted he open the door for her. He was out of the car much quicker than she expected and skipped around to open her door. He really was a gentleman, how could she think he was taking advantage when he patted her leg - he was just being friendly.
