The Office

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Several years ago, I was a secretary in a law firm. A new attorney started work there. We got to be quite good friends.

I had always been taught that a woman was not fully dressed unless she wore hose. My mother started telling me this as a young teenager, and I have taken it to heart. Wearing hose is second nature to me — I would rather go without makeup than without hose when I wear a skirt.

This lawyer, Frank was his name, would often stop by my desk to say hello and ask how my day was going. I did not think anything of it because, although Frank was single, I had been married for a few years and had two young children. Frank always asked about my children and how they were doing. He knew they were my pride and joy.

Frank often stopped in first thing in the morning. I later learned that he did this because — particularly in the winter, I wore boots and would take them off and put on my shoes after I got to the office. At the time, it never occurred to me that Frank’s interest was in more than my kids. He later told me that he loved to watch me take my boots off and the leg show I gave him.

Back then, I wore a skirt almost every day. They were not very short — just about knee length, but when I sat they would slide up to just below mid-thigh. I am sure Frank saw most of my thighs as I raised my foot to remove my boot.

Frank often would walk me to my car after work — to make sure I got to it okay he said. Back then, I drove a jeep out of respect to the Michigan winters. I guess Frank liked to see my skirt ride up as I stepped up into my jeep.

Well, one day after I got into my jeep and sat there with my skirt at mid-thigh, Frank looked very nervous. I asked him if he was okay and he told me he had a confession. When I pressed him, he admitted how much he enjoyed seeing my legs in hose. I laughed at him and said “they’re just legs.”

Frank told me how sexy they were, and said he dreamed of touching them to feel my hose. Since it was Friday and he’d have the whole weekend to cool off, I told him to go ahead and feel them.

Frank reached in through the window of my jeep and caressed my left thigh. I have to admit his attention was exciting. He ran his hand up and down my leg, sliding his fingers between my legs. When he got to the hem of my skirt, I let him slide his fingertips underneath a little distance, then stopped him. I was breathing a little quickly when I told him I had to go.

Now you’ll have something to think about this weekend, I told him as I rolled up my window. As I drove off, I though to myself that I’d have something to think about too.

I had written about my friend Frank and how he finally worked up the courage to say he wanted to touch my leg after he had walked me to my car on a Friday afternoon after work. At the time, I thought it was pretty harmless, since he’d have the weekend to cool off. I guess it didn’t really work that way.

As I mentioned, as I had grown up my mother always lectured on how a proper lady did things. One of the things she always told me was that a lady always wore hosiery. I took that to heart. Starting when I was in my early teens, I always wore hosiery whenever I wore a skirt.

Frank was a new lawyer in the law firm where I worked and after he’d been there a while he began stopping by my desk a few times every day to talk. He was very nice and always asked about my family and especially about my two children. At the time, I was just a few months back from maternity leave after having our second child and was still feeling big and wishing I could get back to a more attractive shape.

Frank’s friendliness was a bright spot. I soon realized that he spent more time visiting when I wore a shorter skirt or a skirt that showed off my legs.

At the time, I had been married almost ten years and although we had two children, my husband wasn’t very attentive. I often thought I could wear the shortest skirt or a long dress and he would not notice the difference. I had always enjoyed some attention when I wore a skirt, so Frank’s apparent interest was refreshing.

That Friday, he finally admitted that he enjoyed seeing me in skirts and hose. I was more than a little surprised, though, when he also admitted how much he thought about touching my legs. Since it was Friday, and he’d have the weekend to get over it, I told him he could. As he stood next to my Jeep, he reached in the window and slid his hand along my legs, stopping when he reached the hem of my skirt. After a few second, he slid his hand under my skirt a little, but I told him he had gone far enough. He blushed and removed his hand. After telling each other to have a great weekend, I drove off.

I have to admit, I spend more than a few minutes that weekend thinking about his hand on my legs. When Monday came, I decided to dress in an outfit that I though Frank would enjoy seeing on me. It was a beige suit with a knee-length skirt, but it had a slit on the left side that went up to mid-thigh. I always though it was a very attractive outfit on me since it went well with my skin tone. I wore suntan, sheer-to-waist pantyhose güvenilir bahis and a white blouse. I thought I looked pretty good.

When I got to work, I found a single rose on my desk. There was no card or note with it. I hoped it was from Frank.

It wasn’t until late morning when I had a chance to talk to him. He hadn’t come by my desk, which was unusual. I decided I would go by his office to say hello.

When I got there, I stood by there door and said good morning. He smiled at me and asked how was my weekend. I told him it was fine and asked about his. He said it seemed pretty long, and that he couldn’t get his mind off our talk on Friday …especially the last part. Then he blushed bright red.

I told him it was nice and we should do it again sometime. As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. He sort of stammered and asked me if I really thought so. I told him I saw no harm in it.

He said he would love to do that again…often. I told him he could as long as he didn’t get too carried away. He said he’d try, but it was very exciting for him. He asked when could we do it again…I said whenever you want. He laughed and said he wanted to do it right then.

Surprising myself, I walked to his desk and leaned over so it would look like I was looking at something on his desk. Standing to his right, the slit in my skirt was next to him. He slipped his had in and moved it up and down my thigh. I have to admit, It felt wonderful. Before I knew it, he had moved his hand around to the back of my leg and was sliding it between my legs. I gasped, and told him not to get too friendly. Luckily he stopped.

I told him I had to get back to my desk, and he should stop by if he got a chance. He said he would, and I walked to the door. Just as I was about to walk out, I turned and thanked him for the rose.

I was a little shaky as I walked back to my desk after visiting Frank in his office. I think I was more than a little surprised by the my reaction and by Frank’s.

I had always been aware of the way some guys reacted to seeing my legs in hose. When I was in my early teens I first noticed how guys would look at me when I wore my short skirts and pantyhose. Going to church on Sunday was always a dress up affair, and the guys in my Sunday School class seemed to enjoy watching me in class.

Even some older boys seemed interested. My cousin who was four years older than me always seemed to sit next to me and I could tell he was more interested in me than in the sermon. I later found out just how interested he was.

But that day visiting Frank had been the first time since I had been married that a guy touched me like that. I remember thinking how I wished my husband would show that kind of interest.

After lunch, Frank stopped by my desk. He looked more than a little nervous. I just smiled at him. He sort of stammered while he talked to me, so I tried to calm him down by joking that it was a good thing he had not gone any farther or he might have fainted. He laughed a little at that.

As I sat at my desk, the slit in my skirt showed quite a bit of my thigh, but was not too revealing. It was the reason I wore sheer to waist pantyhose, so I could show a lot of leg without being too obvious. As Frank stood there, I sort of slid my hand along my thigh and watched his reaction. I was surprised by how much he stared. Teasing him, I asked if something was wrong. Looking down at my legs, I pulled my skirt back a little as if I was trying to straighten it out.

Frank asked if I could stop by his office again later. I smiled and asked him what for. He said he just wanted ti talk a little and thought it would be quieter there. I said I would try to stop by.

It was almost time to go when I had a chance to stop in. I made it a point to stand on the other side of his desk. As we talked about our plans for the evening, I decided I’d give him a little thrill, so I asked if he’d mind walking me to my car again. He agreed quickly.

We talked about nothings as we walked to my car. When we got there, I thanked for walking me, and told him how much safer it made me feel. He offered to do it every day. He opened the door for me and stood there as I climbed in. I knew he would see a lot of leg as I did it, but I really didn’t mind.

Once I was in my car, I rolled down the window to say good night and to thank him again for being so nice. Without even asking, he reached in and put his hand on my left leg, then slid it up higher and higher.

This time, I didn’t stop him and even opened my legs a little. When he reached the top of my thigh, he slid his fingertips between my legs, where he touched me very lightly. I t was all I could do to say good night and drive home.

As I drove home that night, the second night Frank had run his hand along my leg, this time almost reaching my panties, I had very mixed emotions. I certainly enjoyed the way I felt, especially the way I felt as Frank’s fingertips slid along my thigh. I loved the sense of anticipation, wondering how far he would dare go, and how far I would let him go before I stopped him. I loved türkçe bahis the tingling between my legs and the way I felt myself start to get a little wet.

I also thought of my husband, our marriage, and our children. Our youngest was less than a year old at the time and I didn’t want to have anything come between me and my family. I realized I was going pretty far afield at that point. All that had happened was that a guy I knew, a friend, had touched my legs.

I think the problem was that I wished my husband, Rick, acted that way. He was the first guy I had gone all the way with – in the front seat of an old Mustang, no less, and he still was the only guy I had had actual sex with. Other than him, there were the hand-jobs and blow-jobs I’d given, bit nothing else since I’d been married. Rick had never been very passionate – except when we made love. He didn’t seem to be terribly interested in me otherwise.

I always enjoyed wearing pretty lingerie, for example. Rick didn’t seem to care whether I wore hose or went bare-legged. I guess I didn’t really mind, but I always thought some attention would be nice. It seemed my five year old son paid me more attention than Rick. At least he seemed to enjoy sliding his hand along my hose-covered legs – after he found out that it felt like the ribbon on his blanket.

I thought it might be a good time to put Rick to the test. I got home right after he did and we ended up going to the bedroom to change at the same time. I thought I’d put on a little show for him and see if he reacted.

I undressed slowly, watching to see if he was paying attention. I removed the jacket to the suit I was wearing and then the skirt. Because the skirt was lined, I hadn’t worn a slip, so I was standing in just my blouse, pantyhose, and panties. They were little bikini panties I liked to wear. Looking in the mirror, I thought I looked pretty sexy. While I stood there, the thought crossed my mind – I bet Frank would enjoy seeing me like this.

I walked around a little, getting a pair of short out of the closet and a t-shirt out of my dresser. Making sure Rick was looking in my direction, I took of my blouse, and then the matching bra that went with the bikini panties. I was standing there in only pantyhose and panties.

Facing Rick, I reached behind my neck to the clasp on the chain I was wearing. I thought that would lift my breasts and point them right at him. I acted as if the clasp was stuck and asked if he could help. He stood behind me and worked on the class as I rubbed my bottom against him. No reaction!

When he got the chain off, I turned and hugged him, giving him a big kiss and rubbing my breasts against him. No reaction! What really got me mad, though, was his next question: What’s for dinner?

I was still upset with my husband, Rick, when I got up the next morning. I wondered how many other guys would have been so interested in dinner when I was standing there wearing nothing but bikini panties and pantyhose. I kept telling myself that it was nothing new, but it still bothered me.

Rick had never seemed all that interested in what I wore under my clothes, often asking why I wasted so much money on lingerie. I think if I wore the same things my mother and grandmother had worn, he would not have noticed, and would not have cared if he did notice. It did not seem to matter to him if I wore jeans and a sweatshirt or a sexy dress with sheer hose and heels. He was interested in sex…and that did not require clothing.

Rick had always been a very forceful lover, which I enjoyed. As I said, he was the first guy I went all the way with

I felt great as Frank and I walked from my car to the office. Seeing him blush as he looked at my legs made me smile. His blush told me he appreciated the way I looked.

As we walked across the parking lot, I touched Frank’s arm several times as we talked. Almost every time, I could feel him tense when I touched him. I hoped it was a good sign.

Our office was on the third floor of a four-story building in an office park. Like most people, I usually took the elevator. That day, I suggested to Frank that we use the stairs, telling him the exercise would do us good. I loved it when he told me I didn’t need any exercise, since I was in such great shape. I told him he was sweet to think so and leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

I think I shocked him, even with that little kiss. He just stood there while I started up the stairs. Having a head start let me be almost all the way to the next landing before he began climbing. As I watched him look up, I had a great idea.

Moving to the first step after the landing, I started as if I was going to keep climbing but stood there with my foot on the next step as he started up from below. Just as he started up, I called his name and he looked up. I was certain he could see what I hoped he would see when he blushed again, and quickly looked down. Feeling very naughty, I called to him again and this time I kept talking when he looked up, knowing he would have to keep looking at me. I even moved my leg a little to make sure he güvenilir bahis siteleri could see as much as possible. I hoped he enjoyed seeing my cream-colored bikini panties under my sheer pantyhose.

I waited there until he caught up to me, then we walked the rest of the way to our floor. I told him I hoped he enjoyed taking the stairs and that I wanted to start taking them every day to keep my legs in shape. I said he should join me if he wanted to, and that I would wait for him in the parking lot every morning so we could walk in together.

He said it sounded like a great idea and smiled broadly. Telling him I had to get to work, I walked into our offices. I turned quickly and caught him looking, and told him to stop by if he had a chance later on. He said he surely would.

My relationship with Frank became stronger and stronger. I began to realize how much attention he paid to me compared to my husband. I could not remember the last time my husband complimented me; Frank always had a compliment for me and he made sure he I knew he was thinking of me. Although the firm would have frowned on us having any sort of relationship, Frank always found ways to brighten my day – by bringing a single rose, leaving a note, or stopping by with some chocolate. I began more and more to looking forward to his visits.

I also began to spend a few minutes every morning thinking of Frank when I dressed. Although we had few chances to be together, I dressed every day in hopes we would see each other. Looking back, every day was like I was dressing for a date. I have to admit I loved the feeling of anticipation I had every morning as I looked in my closet to decide what to wear and looked in my lingerie drawer to decide what I would wear underneath – knowing that I hoped Frank would see.

Then, one day a miracle happened. Frank’s regular secretary got married. This led to two important things happening.

First, I got to spend time with Frank at her wedding. I do not know how it happened, but my husband and I were assigned to the same table as Frank and his date.

Frank had only seen me in the clothes I wore to work, so I wanted to look especially good for him.

I wore my sexiest dress…amber colored silk that hugged my curves. It was shorter than the dresses and suits I usually wore to work, coming to about three inches above my knees. It looked great with my sheer hose and heels. Underneath I wore my flimsiest Victoria’s Secret bra and matching bikini panties. The bra was quite thin, so I knew it would provide no protection under the silk dress, but I hoped it would be perfect for the occasion. As usual, even though my husband was in the bedroom as I dressed, and saw me in various stages of undress, he had no reaction.

I paid little attention during the ceremony. I saw Frank across the church as we walked in, but had no chance to talk. I did see him smile when he saw me, though. He was with a very cute blonde – willowy, with a nice smile. I noted that she was wearing a pantsuit…something that made me happy.

I could not wait for the reception to start. As we stood in the receiving line at the church, I thought I would go crazy with the waiting. It was worse than standing in a slow line at the grocery store.

Finally we were through and on our way to the reception. I had seen Frank and his date almost at the front of the receiving line, so I knew he would be at the reception. I hoped he would be looking for me. He was. I saw him smile again when I entered the room, so I made sure to swing my hips a little as I walked across the room to our table. I was surprised at how excited I was getting, and a quick glance down showed that the flimsy bra and silk dress did almost nothing to cover up a sure sign of my excitement.

When we got to the table I introduced Frank to my husband and Frank introduced us to his date. As we talked, I could see Frank’s eyes flickering down to my chest. Frank told us he hoped we did not mind, but since he knew on one else at the table, he had moved the place cards so the four of us were sitting together. I checked the cards and was not at all surprised to see that Frank had rearranged the cards so I was sitting next to him. I loved it!

I had a wonderful time at the reception, and I hoped Frank did too. When I was sitting, my skirt slid up, so quite a bit of my thigh was on view. Frank did not seem to care and my husband did not seem to notice. The table had a long tablecloth on it, so when we sat close to eat, it covered us up to our waists – if it was arranged properly, and I made sure it was arranged properly.

As we ate and talked, I gradually moved my chair a little closer to Frank and eventually was close enough for our legs to touch. I felt Frank almost jump a little when my leg first touched his, but then he seemed to relax. I slid my hand under the tablecloth and moved my dress a little higher on my thigh and then dropped my napkin. Frank, ever attentive reached down to get it and, when he handed it back to me I took his hand and placed it on my thigh under the table cloth. I looked around and saw that no one had noticed – least of all my husband, who was much more interested in the dinner and cocktails than he was in me. Luckily, Frank had placed me on his left, so he could still eat and it was not at all obvious where his other hand was.

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