I had a variety of experiences with law firm receptionists over my years in law. The receptionists seem to be hired primarily for their looks, or they have been at the firm for 30 years. The young ones were in their mid 20s and either looking for another degree or an Mrs. degree. For some reason I have always found them attractive (I have the same issue with waitresses).
I wrote this story about 15 years ago, and still remember that night vividly.
My story starts at the beginning of my legal career, with the first receptionist at the first firm after my judicial clerkship. As a side note, this firm imploded in the early 1990s, fortunately after I had left. I had been one of the storied law firms in the Pacific Northwest but not kept up with the times.
The receptionist's name was Karen. Karen was in her mid 20s. I didn't know it then, but would later learn that she was separated from her husband of only a few months. Incidentally her sister was also a receptionist at the firm, but that is another story.
Karen was about five foot six inches, three inches shorter than me. She had a voluptuous figure, something that I, and everyone else on the floor, noticed immediately. Karen had a curvaceous frame, with large 38" breasts, a relatively small waist, and solid 36" hips. Her bottom was heart shaped and spectacular. Although she had a full figure, Karen was not overweight and made a pattern of sneaking off to the gym during her lunch break. My preference has never been for large chested women but there was something about Karen's figure that was immediately appealing.
Karen had extremely fair skin and deep red-auburn hair. Her face was somewhat round. Her last name was Irish, and she fit the classical look.
The adventure began soon after I arrived that September with mild flirtation while passing in and out for the day. The restrooms were down a hall behind Karen, which provided additional brief moments of discussion. Like most young lawyers I believed the world revolved around me. It seemed to me that Karen was interested but I was not then aware how to breach the barrier from attorney to staff. In any event I was going out on dates regularly and maintained my professional distance in the office.
My luck changed with the firm Christmas party. I hadn't thought much about it before that Friday afternoon. Because I was not dating anyone seriously, I was looking forward to spending time with my co-workers in a relaxed setting, and didn't really think about whether it would be appropriate to approach or talk to the staff. I was a bit naive in that regard.
My goal was to have some drinks and food, make a positive impression for any senior people that I might meet, and call it a night. The party was in the ballroom of the Hilton in downtown Seattle. I chatted people up for a while.
Karen was wearing a navy blue double-breasted dress, not especially sexy, cut to just below the knees. I spoke to her in passing several times, mostly talking about nothing. After a couple of hours the crowd started to thin as the boring people drifted home and other people headed to the after-party. I hadn't much of a buzz yet so I decided to join the after party, being held at the bar at the top of the Hilton. A group of us rode up in the elevator, Karen among us.
Once we arrived people started to drink heavily and dance to the band, which was playing passable Top-40 tunes and pop classics. I saw Karen standing to one side. She was gently swaying to the music and looking like she wanted to dance. Walking over, I invited her to the dance floor and she immediately agreed. Karen was a good dancer and especially could swing her hips. Karen and I danced for a good hour, mostly fast but a few slow. She held her body next to mine without reserve. Karen and I took a break to get another drink and hit the head. When I came back she was leaning near the bar. Our eyes met and I could see that she wanted to dance some more. I was enjoying it so I just nodded my head toward the floor. She got the message and headed back to dance some more.
We were still dancing when the band quit at 1 a.m. Fast or slow Karen went for it all. On a couple slow dances she had put her hands around my head and stared into my eyes. I loved her blue eyes, pale skin and a few freckles, all set off my fiery red hair. I thought about kissing her several times but didn't get up the courage. From time to time we would do a little bump and grind, enough to get my attention but I was able to keep my manhood in check. The last song was another slow one. We did more than our share of pelvis to pelvis contact. Her large chest was mashed against mine. My hands held her waist but I kept them above her ass. We were looking into each other's eyes as the music ended.
My courage finally up, I leaned over and kissed Karen on the lips. She immediately responded, pressing back. Karen and I kissed for a few moments before one of our co-workers hit me on the arm. "Coming to Dave's house?" he asked. "I don't know, we hadn't thought about it." (I quickly realized that we were now a "we" and Karen didn't object). "Why don't you let us talk about it for a moment." As the rest of the crowd drifted off, I looked at Karen.
She was standing with sweat glistening off her forehead. Karen's lips were pursed like she wanted to kiss some more. "What do you think, Dave's house for more party....or we might go to my place and do some more dancing" I suggested, winking as I said "dancing."
Karen caught my hint. "I'm partied out but would give a little more dancing a try."
"Why don't we grab out coats" I suggested. We picked them up, then took the elevator to the lobby. Karen leaned back against me as we descended the many stories.
"That was fun" she said softly, "Thanks."
"I enjoyed it too." I kissed her neck below her ear. Leaning back against me, she half turned her head and kissed me just as the elevator doors opened. Taking the first cab, we were at my Queen Anne Hill apartment in a few minutes.
Karen and I went into my place, shedding our coats as we went. My apartment was unusual - an entire floor of a 50's vintage house that had four 8' windows, almost floor to ceiling, facing downtown.
"Shall we sit and enjoy the view?" I suggested.
"Great idea" was Karen's reply as we sat on the couch, which was placed to look out to the city skyline. After we sat down, Karen looked out for a moment or two and then turned to me and said, "but then again we didn't come here to look at the view."