The Accountant (Older woman succumbs to a younger man)
It is a common misconception that accountancy is boring. I have been an accountant for many years and have really enjoyed the work. I am not suggesting the following episode is typical of the profession, but it certainly made my job very interesting!
I work at a medium-sized provincial business, with clients ranging from individuals to mid-sized corporates. We take on trainees each year, youngsters who are training to get their qualifications, and they work with us for a year to get practical experience while learning the theory at college.
The year in question we had five new trainees, three boys and two girls, all around twenty years old. They were allocated to department heads on a fairly random basis, unless an individual had expressed a particular interest in a certain side of the business. I was in charge of audits and was allocated a young man called Gerry who seemed quite sensible. The trainees all came to us from different colleges but tended to hang out together as a group, which is understandable. Gerry didn't seem to fit in with the group, who would go drinking after work, as he was a quieter, more studious type, although I think he did drink. He was quite a fit chap, in reasonable shape, and I gathered later on that he did a lot of cycling which is probably what kept him looking good.
I began to notice that when I walked through the open area to get to my office he would watch me, which quite amused me to begin with, getting the attention of a young man about half my age. In my mid-forties, after a divorce many years ago, I thought I was in reasonable shape, and while I was not a fitness fanatic, I did get down the gym from time to time, and I tried to eat sensibly. Five foot six in my stocking feet, longish brunette (currently) hair, I had kept my figure to a 38-26-36 and tried to keep my weight below seventy kilos.
After a while, the watching started to become slightly annoying rather than amusing, and I would make a point of avoiding him or giving his desk a wide berth which wasn't easy as it was not far from my office door, behind my secretary. There was little I could do about it, but he would not be with us for ever, so I tried to put up with it, ignoring it as much as I could.
As the departmental manager much of my time was taken up with staff coming in with issues, problems and questions which we would discuss. Once Gerry got to grips with the work, he would get help from others around him but would also come to me if necessary. As he was a trainee, I would spend a bit more time discussing around the issue to broaden his knowledge and understanding.
I did notice, that while he was deferential, he would sometimes stand just that little bit closer to me while I was seated at my desk than was, perhaps, normal. No so much that it was obviously wrong, just slightly uncomfortable. I did notice however he used an aftershave that smelled quite expensive.
I don't know why, but I started to keep an eye on him to see how he interacted with the other members of staff, male and female. I noticed that as he walked through the open office he looked very relaxed, sauntering about with his hand in his pocket, but then I began to wonder if he was playing with his genitals as he moved around. No-one seemed to pay undue attention to him, and it was difficult to be sure, but I certainly got the impression that his hand moved as he walked which was only noticeable if you watched carefully.
I didn't know what it was with this lad as he was quite bright, but perhaps he just lacked social skills. It wasn't as though it was all the time, just often enough to make it noticeable, and I didn't know if it was just me, or if he was the same with other people.
I was quite well informed about rumours and general feelings in the office by my secretary, and according to her there was no particular problem with Gerry. It was thought that he had the hots for one of the women, but nobody knew who that might be.
One day I happened to stop by his desk about some minor matter, and while leaning over the work that was on his desk I realised he was looking down the front of my blouse at my cleavage. Rather annoyingly, I have very sensitive and reactive nipples, and at the slightest reason, or sometimes for no reason at all, my areolas harden to a pronounced bulge, and my nipples stand out like organ stops, so I have to wear pads inside my bra to hide them, and I could feel them hardening then as looked at my boobs.
I didn't want to make a fuss, so didn't overreact, but again the boy's action was annoying. I could make a comment in his periodic review, but I didn't want to because he was quite bright and it might spoil a potentially promising future if I did, so I just put up with it, and made a mental note not to give him opportunities of ogling my body in future.
One Friday evening, after work, I made one of my periodic visits to the gym. The company had corporate membership of a health club which was in the same building, and staff had use of the pool, gym, spa and other facilities, including a bar. That evening I did some weights and then spent some time on a rowing machine, trying to burn some calories as well as toning up muscles.
After an hour of fairly hard exercise, I had had enough and headed off to the pool to relax. As I walked down the corridor I saw Gerry coming out of the room with the Peleton bikes, dressed in a cycling shirt and Lycra shorts. As he said Hello, I couldn't help but notice the long lump from his groin down is thigh, clearly outlined under the tight Lycra shorts. I had to drag my eyes away from it, hoping he hadn't noticed me staring for that moment. He really should wear some kind of support, though I don't know what cyclists do. Annoyingly my nipples reacted instantly, and as it is impractical to wear pads under my sports bra, they were very evident, so I kept the conversation very brief so I could move on, and remove my errant nipples from his view.
The image of that lump stuck in my brain and I couldn't get it out of my head. That night, as I lay in my bed, the thought of it awakened feelings that were normally dormant those days, and I looked in my bedside table for my toy. It had been some years since I had had a man, and the toy was a poor substitute, but my friend in keeping the worst of the frustrations at bay.
I went down to the gym perhaps slightly more often after that, but didn't see him there again.
I had a client visit coming up that was some distance away which would mean staying over for a couple of nights. We would be a small team of three, as I would be looking at the bigger picture of structure and processes, and I was going to take Gerry to do the number crunching with the help of another junior clerk.
I don't know why, but I always shave myself before going away anywhere, either holidays or work. This is nothing to do with expecting an encounter, just an old habit from the days of my youth, in case I got lucky. Usually do it myself, but this time I treated myself and booked a session at the salon, as the girls there are good. I do find having them touching me 'down there' does rather turn me on, and I could sense myself opening up and possibly leaking a bit, but they never comment.
That evening at home the arousal had gone, but there was still a lingering sense of desire, not helped by the recurring vision of Gerry in his Lycra shorts, so, lying in bed, running my hand over my lovely smooth pussy, I went all the way.
