The company that my wife works for has a picnic every spring. Everyone wears their swimsuits, exposing winter-whitened skin that really shouldn't be exposed in many cases, and drinks far too much. The picnic is held near a local lake, and it's usually still too cold to do any swimming. However, by the time the sun sets, there are always a few people that are just drunk enough to think that going into the water is a good idea.
It was during one of these picnics that I first met Rebecca, a woman that my wife absolutely despised.
I think part of the hatred that sprang up between them was jealousy. My wife, Cindy, had a fabulous body, but she wore modest clothes. Her one vanity was her hair, which was long, luxurious and black. It had a slight, natural wave to it and it came to the top of her perfect ass.
Rebecca was also beautiful, but her hair was a golden blond color. According to Cindy, Rebecca would flirt with all of the men at work, especially Steve, the boss. Her flirting would get her out of doing a lot of work. Rebecca managed the helpless blond routine like a pro, and the guys were only too happy to do tasks for her. I think it was that more than anything else that angered my wife in such a personal way. She realized that her body was just as good, if not better, than Rebecca's was; but Cindy just couldn't bring herself to use it to her advantage.
Of course, petty jealousy wasn't the only thing that made my wife angry. Rebecca had a tendency to steal work that wasn't hers and get all the credit for it. She had once taken a proposal that my wife spent six weeks working on. Cindy accused her of it, but didn't have any real proof - Rebecca had taken the diskette that had all of the rough drafts as well as the final proposal. Since then, the women had managed to stay away from each other.
Rebecca came to the company outing dressed in a white tank-top that left her stomach bear, and a pair of light purple shorts that clung to her ass in a delicious way. She soon had a crowd of men around her everywhere she went. When she was tossing horseshoes, I had to practically drag my eyes away. Every time she would bend over to pick up the thrown shoes, her top would ride up, exposing the bottom swell of each of her creamy breasts.
During the course of the picnic, I found myself in Rebecca's proximity several times. She seemed to be flirting with me - laughing and touching my arm or my leg, twisting her hair around a finger as she spoke, toying with the arm straps of her tank-top, and throwing me little glances out of the corners of her eyes. I began to think that I was just being paranoid about it until Cindy mentioned it.
"That little hussy is coming on to you, isn't she?" She whispered to me at one point, adding a little nibble to my earlobe, as if to show me that she could flirt, too. "She would. She knows that I don't like her, plus you're the hottest guy here."
"Don't worry about me. I'm here with the most beautiful woman in the world." I've discovered that the best way to head off jealousy is with a lot of flattery. "Besides, she's just had a few too many drinks."
With a smile to show she was joking, Cindy said, "I'm going to kick her ass if she touches you one more time."
Cindy isn't the ass kicking kind, so we both laughed a little then went back to enjoying the picnic. It ended with about half a dozen people swimming around in the still ice cold water of the lake, just like every year. I realized that it was a right of spring, sort of like seeing the first robin. Of course, all but one of the participants were men - for some reason as soon as we get a few drinks in us, we seem to think that silly antics will impress women. The only female to join in was Rebecca. Cindy was right, she was an incorrigible flirt, but she was extremely talented at it. As she walked slowly up the beach, her white shirt clung to her breasts, giving all of us a look at her fabulous body.
She seemed not to notice that the water had rendered the top of her outfit see-through. She raised her hands up to push her hair back from her face. This caused her chest to stick out even more, and her nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. They were hard from the cold water, and I know that I wasn't the only guy there that was lost in a trance-like state from staring at her.
Unfortunately, I was the only guy there on the receiving end of my wife's elbow to the ribcage - well deserved - and her glare. She gave me a dirty look, then shrugged as if to say, "Go ahead and look." I winked at her and looked back to Rebecca, but by then the show was mostly over. One of the other wives had produced a towel and handed it to her. This may not have been too subtle, but it stopped the exhibitionist from her performance.
On the way home, Cindy said, "She really does have nice breasts, doesn't she?"
This felt like a trap, but I didn't know a response that would get me out of it. I went with what I thought was a good answer, "Rebecca? They're ok, I guess, but not as nice as yours."
"Not that I wouldn't like to believe you, but your pants are actually on fire right now," Cindy said with a grin.
"Only for you, baby."
We both laughed, and I felt her hand slip into my lap as I drove. I love those company picnics.
About a month later, as spring was turning into the heat of summer, Cindy came home flushed with excitement.
"The job opened up. Senior V-P of sales for the Rocky Mountain area. Oh God, Mark, this could be a huge break."
