An Office Encounter Ch 01

I was sitting in the staff restaurant spending lunch time, as I often did, with a colleague from another department, Dot Masters, a very fanciable forty-something lady whom I had known, not in a biblical sense unfortunately, for many years. We had both successfully worked our way up through the company into responsible positions over the years, and we now headed our own departments. But this success had come at a cost; I had divorced some years before, Dot fairly recently. Yet colleagues is what we had remained, and our friendship did not extend outside working hours.

But all that was about to change.

This particular day there was not much conversation, and my mind (and possibly my eye) was wandering, when I became aware that Dot was leaning towards me and muttering something in my ear.

"Pardon -- sorry, I did not quite catch what you said."

"I said, I think you are turning into a dirty old man!"

"Dot, how could you say such a thing about an old and respected colleague?"

"Well," she said, "You seem to be staring at that rather pretty young girl over there"

I flushed, rather embarrassed, because I hadn't meant to stare, but there was more than a grain of truth in what she said.

"And I can see that bulge in your trousers..."

"I wish...." I said. I couldn't really deny it, but it was working from memory. I tried to make an excuse.

"That's just my handkerchief."

"Well, fancy that", she said, "Me, an experienced woman, and that's the first time in all these years that I have realised that men had pockets in their Y-fronts."

"Well, I have to admit she is rather pretty, so young and innocent."

"You see", said Dot, "Dirty old man. I rest my case."

"And I can't help noticing that she seems to be showing rather a lot of leg today. Rather nice long and shapely leg, too."

"That may not be coincidence", replied Dot.

My mind was no longer wandering. Indeed it had suddenly become quite sharply focussed. What could she mean?

"That is a very strange thing to say."

"The girl is called Lisa Jones and she happens to work in my department", explained Dot. "She has not been with us very long, and I called her into my office the other day to review progress. I think she was a bit worried, but I sought to reassure her -- she is really one of the best workers in the department. She was quite pleased when I told her this, and she relaxed a bit and we got talking. She said that this was her first job since leaving college, and she was living by herself in her own flat for the first time. She said that she liked her independence, but it could be a bit lonely sometimes. I said I could sympathise with that, as I too was now living on my own. I suggested to her that she was an attractive girl, and that there were plenty of good looking young men working for the company, so it was likely she would not be lonely for very long.

She asked if she could speak confidentially. I said of course, this is an informal chat just to see how you are getting on, and it is entirely informal, off the record. She went on to explain that in fact she did not mind young men, but actually she would prefer an older, more mature man, wiser in the ways of the world, who could, to coin a phrase, show her the ropes. I thought I would make a joke, and expressed the hope that she did not mean that literally. I was a bit taken aback when she said that actually she wouldn't mind, if she had been a bit naughty."

Dot paused in her narrative to let it all sink in. Then she continued.

"I said to Lisa that I thought I might be able to help her out. I said I thought I knew someone who might just fit the bill."

"Lucky bastard!" I said, "Who's that then?"

"You."

I had to hold on to the table to stop myself from falling out of my chair. Now well into my fifties, I thought such things had passed me by long before.

"Dot, how could you suggest such a thing!"

"Well, at least think about it", said Dot, "Sounds like it's the best offer you've had for some time!"

She wasn't wrong. I looked up to have another glance at Lisa, but she had already gone.

"Hence the leg show I suppose. Does she agree to this?"

Dot replied, "Well she is willing to give it a try if you are. As she said, you're not the worst looking man in the world."

"Well thanks very much!" I said, "That's a real back hander if ever there was one. Does the phrase 'damned with faint praise' mean anything to you?"

Still, though I did not want to admit it, I was well aware that I was no longer Mr. Universe. Never was, in truth.

"I'll have to give it some thought, Dot. I don't know how I will react. After all it has been a long time."

"A long time since what?" asked Dot, knowing perfectly well what I meant.

"Mind your own business"

"There is a catch", Said Dot, and now she seemed more hesitant, "I...I want to share her."

Once again the table came to my rescue.

"Dot -- I had no idea -- are you gay?"

"Well, not really, but I am prepared to make an exception for such a pretty girl. It's been quite a long time for me too, you know."

It was time to go back to our offices. As we left the dining room, Dot said, "You will think about it, won't you?"

"Think about it -- It's very unlikely that I will be thinking about anything else! Can't you see I'm having some difficulty walking?"

She giggled. "At least the flesh is willing."

I was right -- that afternoon not much work was getting done, as my mind went through what Dot had said, and I found myself thinking about various wicked and lustful scenarios. It did not take all that long, now that I think about it again, to come up with an evil little plan. Dot was right; I am a dirty old man!