It is somewhat confusing for me at this moment to describe my feelings as I recall what I am about to relate, but somehow, I need to unburden my conscience and I think that in this way I can free myself.
My life was going on in a very simple and conventional way: I have 3 years developing as an efficient legal assistant of a small local firm, at my 26 years I achieved an excellent performance that led me to be the right hand of Francesca Neri, a brilliant 45 year old lawyer, of affable and refined character, woman of impeccable manners, owner of an elegant demure attitude, and an unbeatable litigator in court, widowed 8 years ago and for all of us who know her; She is a beautiful woman devoted to her work at the law firm she and her late husband founded, as well as a devoted mother to Tom, her only son.
It all started last summer when we celebrated the successful conclusion of the most complicated case in the firm's history, months of hard work that concluded successfully with the judge's ruling in our favor.
I can't lie about the great appreciation I feel for Francesca, during these last years we were able to strengthen a great closeness and affinity due to our harmony in our work. A few weeks after I joined the firm, she and her son kindly welcomed me to their traditional Wednesday dinner, and it has been great to spend some time with them, they have a tradition of cooking dinner and giving a loving family atmosphere to the evening that is enlivened with music and sometimes complemented with a fun game.
This allowed me to get to know them better and was also a great help after the death of my parents, I was amazed to discover the personality of Francesca's son, a good looking boy who studies at the university, you can be captivated by his smile and the impeccability of his manners, he is a talented amateur chef, he has the same piercing and expressive eyes as his mother, I adore his great mental acuity, he is a consummate movie buff and a jazz lover, I could say that the boy would be overwhelming if he were only 10 years older and in that way, he would simply be my ideal man, in short, he would be my ideal man, in short. They honor me weekly by admitting me into their cozy family intimacy and go out of their way to make me feel part of their family.
Francesca is a woman of average height, who I have always seen wearing the impeccable sobriety of her business suits, as elegant and demure as her personality, her blonde hair is usually pulled back in a sophisticated and somewhat conservative hairstyle, something appropriate for a prominent lawyer, Her honey-colored eyes are set behind elegant horn-rimmed glasses, and from the very beginning she gives you the impression of being a conservative, respectable woman, extremely careful of seriousness and formality both in her manner and in her immaculate appearance.
Shortly after the resolution of that great case, we were on our way to celebrate Tom's 18th birthday and we had a small traffic accident that had no major consequences, except for some slight bruises, both Fran and I were shaken by the impact and were taken to the hospital, the paramedics said that we required the attention of a medical specialist due to the bleeding injuries in Fran's head and I had deep discomfort in my neck and arm.
Fortunately, it was nothing serious, after some studies performed that same afternoon at the hospital and 3 days of rest, it was satisfactorily repaired. I can't say the same for Fran's Range Rover, which took the worst part as it was rendered unusable due to the crash. She took it very well, since she was thinking of changing it for a more environmentally friendly option.
In the following days I took Fran everywhere in my car, while the insurance payment was being settled and she was looking for convenient green car options.
One afternoon I had a peculiar experience when we were preparing the last part of an important case recently acquired by the law firm. All the staff had left, it was past 6:00 p.m. and I took it upon myself to bring Fran's office the entire case file, knocked on the door, found it open, walked into her office and gasped to find Fran talking on the phone with her son with the peculiarity that Fran was out of her fancy business suit.
She seemed all too comfortable and relaxed wandering around her office, in Panties and bra, her must-have tan stockings attached by suspenders to a matching garter belt of the aforementioned ensemble.
I could describe the scene as a cheerful Playtex advertisement aired in the evening hours 20 years ago, I never imagined that Fran had such a beautiful and harmonious figure hidden under the solemn seriousness of her daily outfit, the garments in my opinion were the boring and logical choice of a mature woman in her mid 40s, looking to have comfort and practicality under her clothes, I was impressed by her long, shapely legs, her well defined waist and the generous roundness of her hips highlighted in those white full cut panties, the bra was of a simple and stately design, I immediately recognized that model with detachable underwire that together was what I myself wore when I lived with my parents. And I was the happiest woman when I found other options soon after I entered college. I thought for an instant I saw a scintillating, sensual woman wearing the lingerie her mother chose for her.
Fran smiled with a friendly attitude upon noticing my presence, she was as surprised as I was to see me enter, she immediately motioned for me to stay and not feel uncomfortable for catching her in her panties, as she smiled at me and her fingers fiddled with the phone cord like a schoolgirl would as she sat on the desk and sensually crossed her leg.
I meanwhile rearranged the file and sat patiently waiting for Fran to finish her call, that week her son was getting his college exam results. I felt a little guilty for seeing Fran in a different light, pregnant with a certain vibe that inexplicably began to excite me, it was very confusing then and at this moment somehow still is... This is my mentor and role model, my symbol of respect and authority in my professional area. She was removing the pin that imprisoned her hair, which was gently fluttering, falling free below her shoulders and framing her beautiful face, which was rarely made up.
I have a strong religious background and have even had biblical conversations with Fran and her son during several of our dinners, as well as accompanying them to church on some Sunday mornings, and at that moment I wanted to throw all my nomenclature down the drain so that I would no longer have that encumbering guilt that came over me as I felt aroused by contemplating the figure that defines my professional life, basking in the fullness of her sensually curvaceous womanhood, as she sat on her desk in her underwear, smiling at me in a way that turns out to be a bit confusing. I thought maybe she was about to change her clothes and in the middle was surprised by the phone. And at that moment, she was just being polite to me by not kicking me out of her office disguising the discomfort implied by my invasive presence, in what was evidently a moment of utmost intimacy for her.
From her voice emanated an aura of erogenous sweetness that made me doubt if she was really talking to her son, she was talking about work stuff, you know. You tell someone how your day was and you do it in a way that sounds exciting.
I came to feel a little jealous listening to her talk in that emotion-filled way, but somehow a part of me, was comforted when her sweet, expressive honey-colored eyes focused on me, it was comforting but I could also get really nervous about it, because of how insinuatingly horny that was for me.
I didn't count the minutes I spent gazing at Fran as she talked on the phone, she said a very affectionate goodbye and promptly hung up.
"You must excuse me honey, it was my son who was excited about his admission to college and was very interested to know that I'm feeling well, you know. After the accident he has been very sweet to me, he was very scared when he saw us at the hospital and that night we promised each other to spend as much time together as possible before he leaves for college." -Said Fran.
I can't deny that I felt a great relief to know that there was no crush on the other end of the line.What the heck is wrong with me?
"Is something wrong, honey? -Fran said to me, a bit puzzled.
"Nothing's wrong Fran, everything's fine! I brought the Simon's case file for you to approve the changes you requested."
Fran smiled with an approving attitude, took the paperwork to put on her desk and after taking a seat, put on her glasses and began to review the file with her elegant and distinctly professional attitude.
"Honey, I know it's not your job, but as you may realize it's just you and me in the office... Can you get some coffee for us?" -Said Fran giving me a sweet smile as she lowered her glasses with her hand and looked at me with the sweetness in her eyes.
I nodded immediately and went to the coffee pot to prepare some coffee, I took the opportunity to relax a little, I had never been so nervous to see a woman in panties.
"What the hell is wrong with me!"
I was in the gymnastics team at school and it was normal that after practice we took a shower and shared the locker room, I had very beautiful teammates in the team and never gave me any strange feeling to see them naked, I even remember Jenny Dalton Smith who loved to walk naked in the locker room, her beauty was enviable, something she always boasted about and enjoyed immense popularity among the boys.
Years later I was not at all surprised to see by chance on the wall of honor of the garage where my car is maintained, a poster taken from a magazine where she is Miss April who smiles majestically and totally naked for eternity. But this afternoon something very strange happened to me with Fran, I just hope that the fact of asking me for coffee was an excuse to get dressed, and that way, we both pretend that nothing happened, I did not get excited by that sensual scene, and she did not see her modesty damaged.
