Alright, so Hannah is my supervisor and has been one of my closest friends since I moved up here. When I first moved here, she showed me around, gave me tips on where to move, where to hang out. When I was having trouble with my marriage, she was there. When I was going through my divorce, there. When I told her I was practicing polyamory, she didn't bat an eye and encouraged me through my exploits.
Part of me thought she enjoyed living vicariously through the stories I told her at work. At some point that morphed into flirting pretty heavy for the past couple of months to the point where she's gotten into the habit of sending the odd sexy selfie. Nothing too scandalous, a bit of cleavage here and there. Very tasteful. She has this gorgeous hourglass figure and long, wavy blonde hair. Her aesthetic is very scene kid grew up to be a sexy well-dressed librarian with a splash of 90s grunge. She's also been touching me, like a lot. Touching my shoulder to get my attention, unnecessarily squeezing past me to reach something. She's really not a casually touchy person, either.
Friday, we had the office to ourselves for a couple hours at the end of the day and she had this smirk on her face every time I caught her eye. She looked hungry. She was wearing her tight dark coral dress with the gold zipper running up the front so she can show exactly as much cleavage as she likes and I could've sworn that it kept falling just a smidge lower every time I passed her office.
Finally, the last person left the office and moments later I got a Skype message, "Come here," and I didn't make her wait.
I walked into her office and she asked, "Can you help me with my zipper? It's stuck."
Ever the gentleman, I obliged and gave the zipper an upward tug. It didn't seem stuck to me. She pouted, "Other way, silly."
I visibly gulped like something out of a goddam Saturday morning cartoon and inched the zipper down, glancing up into her eyes every few inches for any sign that I should stop. She had the most shit-eating grin on her face and that's when I knew it was on.
I unzipped her dress the rest of the way down to reveal her firm breasts encased in a black, lacy, see-through number with a matching thong and garter belts holding up her stockings. I helped her the rest of the way out of her dress, and tossed it onto her desk.
She was something to behold and I told her as much. She giggled and told me she could tell that before I'd said anything glancing at my crotch where my cock was at that moment trying to bust out of my pants as we were speaking.