My wife Tara is a very conservative woman. Tall and slender she wears two-piece navy suits to her job at a large accountancy firm.
Tara wears her hair up, sometimes in a bun and wears blouses that do not draw attention to her breasts.
Tara had been a virgin and I took her cherry on our honeymoon. She did not believe in premarital sex and was saving herself for the man she married. My wife does not have an active libido immersing herself in her work and hobby, painting watercolors.
Tara worked with a group of a dozen accountants in a large room separated by work cubicles. The firm did a lot of corporate work and the partners looked after the clients in their offices and assigned the workload amongst the pool of accountants.
There were eight females ranging in age from mid-twenties to late forties, Tara being one of the youngest. Then other four accountants were males, all being in their forties or fifties.
There was a good esprit de corps amongst the accountants and they all cooperated in getting the work out on time. Sometimes this meant staying after five to meet a deadline.
On one such occasion Tara volunteered to stay behind with three other of the female accountants and Bruce Jeffery's, a confirmed bachelor, who had no reason to hurry home.
Whilst Tara tends to dress conservatively her underwear is only first class Victoria Secret type lingerie. She spends $85+ for bras and favors high cut French bikini panties or thongs, she likes feeling "good" underneath her clothes.
Against company policy Dora Moore had snuck a bottle of Gilbey's gin into the office and was sharing it with the others. Shortly after seven o'clock they were finished and most of the crew feeling pretty good.
"Let's put on a show for Bruce!" Dora piped out.
Dora was a forty-something dark hair buxomly attorney's wife. Unceremoniously she begins unfastening her blouse.
Nobody wanted to leave yet, not even Tara. This kind of shenanigans was unheard of in the office but none of the partners were around.
Joyce Serada, a cut early thirties blonde, joined in on the strip.
Tara watched in awe as her coworkers began to disrobe. Dora slipped of her sheer white ruffled blouse exposing a well-filled white full cup bra. Tara thought that was as far as she was going to go until she dropped the blouse and her hands went to the clasp at the back. When Dora brought her hands forward she brought the bra with them allowing her enormous tits to spill out into everyone's view. The rose color aureoles on her creamy mounds must have been three inches in diameter with giant pencil erasure teats rising form them. Everyone looked in wonder at Dora's bared rack.
Not to be undone Joyce followed Dora's example, quickly shedding her blouse and bra. Joyce was less endowed, exposing what appeared to be about 36B breast but very perky. Her nipples were also a delicate pink but much smaller than Dora's.
Not to be outdone Dora unfastened her skirt. Bruce's eyes were locked on her outrageous performance to see how far she was going to go. Dora's skirt to the floor revealing a translucent half-slip though which the outline of her sturdy legs up to her crotch was discernible.
She tugged the elasticized waistband down over her broad hips and allowed the slip to join her skirt in a pool around her ankles. She stepped out of her discarded clothes wearing only a well-filled pair of white silk panties and a smile. The bulge of Dora's bush was noticeable under her panties.
Joyce in the spirit of one-upmanship removed her flannel skirt and underwear also and stood totally naked before us. Joyce was shaven and her puffy pussy lips were tantalizing everyone's imagination. What treasures lay within those lips?
By now Bruce had a noticeable tent in his gabardine slacks. His right hand was in his pocket no doubt attempting to control his erection.
