When I was twenty I took a job in a govt. corporation as a messenger while awaiting exam results. Almost all the ladies in the human resources dept. out of which I worked soon became nice and friendly towards me; the young, the not so young, the middle aged and the few old heads. Of course, many of them were friendly for practical reasons - they could get me to run errands for them on company time when I was out delivering documents.
Others showed interest for a more personal reason and I had a bunch of playmates, so to speak, who engaged in a range of interactions ranging from joking and teasing; light to brazen flirting and in some cases less than subtle expressions of sexual interest. After all I was young, good looking, smart, good mannered, helpful and a budding poet, some of my work finding a place in two local newspapers. Some of the ladies would compliment my work and sometimes seek to engage me in discussions. Within the first three months I'd managed to bone two of the younger ones.
One of the light teasers was Ms. West, an early to mid-thirties married woman. Her husband, a perpetually grumpy fellow, would drop her off every morning and then return for her in the afternoon after picking up their two kids one, a two year old who was still breastfeeding. I came by that last bit of information after overhearing a conversation between Ms. West and another lady.
Ms. West was a shapely chubby woman of half Black, half East Indian ancestry. She was very dark; her skin a smooth shade of black if there is such a thing. She was a jovial soul, with glittery eyes that were of an unusual olive-like colour. Her lips were full and wide and almost always in a stage of smiling, which made her dimples immediately noticeable. I liked her and enjoyed the playful little punches and body bounces she liked giving me.
One day, after returning from road duties, I went into the messenger's room which was at the end of a corridor that had a number of offices. She was at the stencil machine printing a document. Her usually happy face bore a look of solemnity and I could see she'd been crying because tear stains were on her dark cheeks. While enquiring if she was alright I took the chance and placed a hand on her shoulder. She immediately leaned her cheek briefly onto the back of my hand. She assured me that she would be alright, saying that she'd been briefly overwhelmed by a personal family problem.
She gave my free hand a little squeeze and thanked me for my concern. From that day onwards a bond developed between us that progressed as the weeks went by. We mutually and often sought out each other's company.
Of the four messengers I was the only one who remained in the office during the one hour lunch break. I'd sit in the room and eat a snack brought from home or one acquired from a little café up the street when returning from my last morning task. The remaining time I'd spend reading or working on a poem, and had earned the nickname 'professor'.
One morning Ms. West asked me to stop at a downtown department store and buy her a pair of black, nylon panty hose. She was going to a funeral after work, and needed something black to go along with her work clothes. At the store I saw a mannequin displaying sexy red mesh stockings that reached far up the thighs, stopping just below the crotch. I imagined Ms. West in it and even though and even though they cost twice as much as those she'd sent me for I purchased them, thinking that such a gift could set things in motion to take our relationship to new heights. I returned on the stroke of lunch break and most of the office was on their way out. None of my mates were around and I saw no sign of Ms. West so I took the package to my room.
Ten minutes later I heard a soft knock on the door and she came in beaming.
"You got it Professor?"
She closed the door and turned the safety knob which I thought was a bit odd but did not question it. I handed her the package and surprise showed on her face as she looked at the contents.
"What's this?" she asked, holding up the red stockings.
"Just a little gift for you, I saw it on a mannequin in the store and thought it would look just as nice on you."
She examined the stocking and I saw a fiery glint take over her eyes.
"But what's the occasion; it's not my birthday and it's not Christmas?
"No occasion, just my way of saying thanks for being so nice and to let you know that I think you're a very attractive woman."
"Ooh, that's so sweet, but you shouldn't have, this must have cost you a lot."
"It's OK; your friendship is worth it."
She stared into my eyes steadily for about ten seconds before saying:
"You don't need to buy me presents to make me know you find me attractive. I already know that by the way you look at me. Anyhow, thanks."
She stepped forward and gave me a little peck on the cheek then walked pass me to a far corner near a desk.
"I'll try on the one I have to wear this afternoon to make sure they're alright. If they aren't you'll have to go get me another pair. So you, young man, will have to look in the other direction for a few minutes"
I turned around and stared at the silent door, nervous and excited from the thought of what was there to be seen behind me if I only turned around before being told to do so; My cock, understandably, growing hard as wood in my trousers.
I'm no fool, she could have asked me to leave the room for a while or better yet go to the ladies room which was just next door. There she would have had privacy and a mirror. And then there was the issue of her turning the safety knob the moment she entered the room. She was either testing me, sending me a message or offering up herself for a quick fuck there on the spot. So after about three minutes of silence I turned around.
She had her skirt pulled all the way up to her belly button and was just about to pull the panty hose past her crotch; and what a lovely sight that crotch was. I gasped when I saw the fat lump of tempting womanhood covered in tight red lace. She didn't look in any way startled by my uninvited turn around, but never-the-less calmly said:
"You're supposed to be looking the other way Professor."
