Sorry it's taken so long to get this next instalment written and published! Hopefully you will enjoy the continuing saga of Charlotte and Gemma's adventures!
"You have really nice legs, you know Charlotte," said Gemma, grinning at me. She was so busy staring at my legs -- again -- that she didn't notice that the lights had changed to green, and the car behind hooted impatiently.
She quickly accelerated away, but drifted her hand onto my thigh, pushing my skirt up a little and sensually touching me over the sheer nylon of my satiny, opaque tights. Just the brush of her hand was enough to start my pussy tingling, especially as her hand started travelling up my thigh towards the warmth between my legs. Even though I would have loved her to continue, I gently but firmly moved her hand away.
"Gemma, you need to concentrate on your driving, and I don't want a wet patch on the back of my best business skirt! You know what you do to me..."
Gemma pretended to sulk, then replied, "Mmm, you could always hitch it up round your waist," she teased, trying to worm her hand back between my legs, her fingers dancing over the sensitive part of my inner thigh. "Remember our strapline -- 'Let your fingers do the walking' -- and giggled.
This time, I grasped her hand and placed it firmly back on the steering wheel. "You can just wait till we get to the hotel. We're not about to give all the lorry drivers a cheap thrill, watching you touching me up in the car!"
We were both in high spirits. It had been a good day. We'd packed, had an early breakfast, checked out and were on the road by 8am. The first task was to leave my car at our local office, so we could both travel in Gemma's company car, a black BMW 320. I liked driving my Mondeo but was slightly envious of her elevated status and the corporate trappings which went with it.
Once we'd dropped off my car, we had set off on a whistle-stop tour of appointments and had closed four deals from the five business calls we'd made, breaking only for a light pub lunch with a prospect. I had to admit, Gemma was a very persuasive salesperson. She also had no reservations about using her womanly charms to persuade the male customers to sign on the dotted line.
I had watched her get dressed that morning... she'd put on a beautiful white balcony bra, edged with delicate embroidery, with a raised polka dot effect. It was opaque enough to be just decent, but I could clearly see the dark outlines of her nipples under it. The matching panties were equally delectable, transparent enough for me to be able to make out her slit through the flimsy material.
The effect was stunning. "Fuck me," I'd gasped, as she'd twirled like a model for me, showing off her body for my appreciation. She looked even sexier in the underwear than she did naked, if that were possible.
"I'd love to, Char, but we need to get going. You'll just have to wait till tonight," she'd said with a cheeky smile, her brown eyes sparkling.
She had completed her outfit with a very fitted skirt which showed off her shapely bum, and a pale green blouse which was thick enough not to be transparent but was equally thin enough to clearly show the lacy edge of her bra, and on occasions, the bumps of her nipples protruding through it. The blouse plunged into a 'V' just far enough to show a distinct hint of cleavage. Finally, a fitted bolero jacket only served to enhance, rather than hide those gorgeous breasts.
I had a hard time resisting the temptation to rip it all off again, but had to settle for giving her a long, luxurious kiss, squeezing her peachy bottom all the while.
When in the lift on our way to the ground floor, we found the rear wall was fitted with a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Standing hip to hip, we were not disappointed with our reflected image. I'd chosen a charcoal grey skirt suit with a cream blouse with black tights, in contrast to Gemma's tan ones. We had smiled at each other in the mirror. Gemma had nodded, murmuring, "We look fucking knockout, don't we?" I had to agree. We did.
The impact on the male businessmen was almost comical. Whilst the eyes are truly windows to the soul, men's eyes are also equipped with laser beams, only visible to the female of the species, which show exactly where their vision is directed.
Arriving at one meeting, we had been ushered into a glass walled, air-conditioned meeting room. By the time the two middle-aged gentlemen entered the room, my nipples had reacted to the cool air; I could feel my hard nubs poking through my bra and blouse. A quick glance at Gemma's tits confirmed that the sudden chill was having the same effect on her.
The men's eyes constantly flitted from one pair of breasts to the other as we made our presentation; I could see the lust in their eyes, as they mentally drooled, trying to imagine how it would feel, to hold and caress them, to free them from their lacy wrappings.
At one point, Gemma even leaned over the table, on the pretext of pointing out some detail on the paperwork. She must have given the pair of them a proper eyeful down her cleavage. The poor guys didn't stand a chance. Ten minutes later, we were striding confidently across the car park, a signed order safely stashed in my briefcase.
Gemma turned and winked at me. "Lambs to the slaughter, eh?" she said, with a big grin.
The curious thing about being in sales, is that success breeds more confidence, which breeds more success. By the time we arrived at our final meeting of the day, it was more or less a foregone conclusion that we would get the order.
But on this occasion, our provocative business dress backfired somewhat. We were met by a frumpy, middle-aged woman, who looked like she probably hadn't been screwed in years. She looked us up and down over the top of her glasses, for all the world like we were a couple of streetwalkers who had just strolled into her office.
"Dried up old bitch," was Gemma's only comment as we beat a hasty retreat from that one. Some you win, some you lose. I couldn't complain; we were already achieving a massive improvement over what I had been doing, working solo.
Gemma proved to be easy company in the car. We talked about all kinds of things, not just work. It turned out that we had similar tastes in music and agreed that we should go to watch some live concerts together. I was beginning to really enjoy having a girlfriend.
Gemma had woken something in me, something which either I didn't know existed, or which I had been repressing; I didn't know which, but it gave me a lovely feeling when I thought about our wonderful love making the day before. It thrilled me even more to think of what might be to come -- without a doubt, she still had much to teach me.
It was almost dark by the time we arrived at our next hotel. Once Gemma had found a parking spot, she switched off the engine and turned to me.
"Have you enjoyed today?" she asked, smiling.
"Yeah, I really have. We make a good team, don't we?" I rested my hand on hers. "And it's really lovely to have your company... I feel like a new woman, honestly." With that, I put my arms around her and hugged her tight.
"Come on," she said, "let's go and get checked in, then I think we ought to have a glass of fizz to celebrate today."
At Reception, the young woman looked up and greeted us in heavily accented English. Her name badge identified her as 'Hanna'.
"Good evening, are you checking in?"
I would have thought that was rather obvious, considering the amount of luggage we'd hauled in, but maybe it was their standard greeting phrase.
Gemma gave her name and the booking reference; Hanna scanned the computer screen with a fingernail.
