My new job takes me from branch to branch 'problem solving', sorting through old accounts, chasing old clients and sometimes organising personnel.
My latest assignment took me to the company's new 'flagship' building. It had just opened but due to problems with the internal layout the top two floors were not finished yet; I was to liaise with the building planner to make sure that it would be ready by the end of the month.
The company had put me up in a local hotel with a car at my disposal, I had been visiting the contractors office to find out the planned date for completion so when I arrived for my meeting it was almost mid morning, I signed in at reception was given a visitor ID card to cover fire regulations and told both the floor and meeting room number that I needed.
I walked to the elevator and pushed the button, as I waited two other people joined me, Jenny a tall brunette from accounts and Peter one of the office managers.
Jenny was wearing a smart charcoal grey suit; nice but a little too severe for my taste, her blazer cut to hide rather than compliment her curvy torso and her trousers had a generous cut so as not to accentuate her backside.
She finished it off with a dark red blouse buttoned to the neck and flat pumps.
In contrast I wore a pale blue silk blouse, sheer enough so that the pattern of my lacy bra showed through, worn over a solid black pleated skirt that ended well above my knees showing a generous portion of my smooth tanned legs.
It was just short enough to be 'interesting' without being unprofessional.
While Jenny thought that showing any 'flesh' undermined a woman's professional image I thought that it was only right to use what advantages I had, especially if it distracted the office males long enough for me to complete a deal before they realised that they were being screwed over. Not that I wasn't brighter than most of them.
I had topped it off with a short matching jacket and rather than wear flats I had on a pair of light blue heels that accentuated my calves.
Peter I always thought of as 'the grey guy' because that was the only colour he ever wore, although today he seemed to have pushed the boat out and was wearing a black tie and shoes. He was slim and slightly effeminate, always immaculate with every hair, (going grey) in place, beautifully manicured nails and he always smelled nicely of expensive aftershave. Rumour around the office juniors was that his marriage had broken down because he was gay; I thought it a little cruel but had my own suspicions because one of my friends, (who is gorgeous) had twice invited him for a drink and twice had been politely but firmly told that dating work colleagues was unprofessional.
Perhaps Jenny had been giving him advice.
They both greeted me with a curt nod and carried on with their conversation not missing a beat, neither of them were my kind of people and I only had to work with them once every few months so the snub didn't bother me.
We entered the elevator without exchanging words, Jenny and Paul standing at the back still deep in conversation. On the second floor the door opened and several people crowded in forcing me to move back as far as I could. The doors closed and elevator began to rise, reaching my destination, the fourth floor, in seconds.
The doors started to open then stopped, the lights went out and we were left in the dark with just a sliver of light coming through a small gap in the doors and a dull emergency light over the control panel to illuminate the car.
To my surprise no one panicked.
"Is this the second or third time this has happened?" someone said.
"Third," a woman's voice replied.
"Security says that it's a glitch in the system, the doors start to open before it has registered that the car has stopped so it shuts everything down.
As she said this as an apologetic, if weary voice came from the tiny speaker on the control panel.
"Sorry for the inconvenience
again
ladies and gentlemen, we will have you out of there and where you need to be in within the next 20 minutes".
When you are stuck in the semi dark with a bunch of strangers you truly do feel like a sardine in a can, packed in for a few seconds between floors you don't really think about it but this was bloody annoying, everyone seemed 'too close' with no room to stretch or move around.
All of a sudden I felt a hand gently rest on my right buttock, I tensed up but couldn't turn to see who it was or move away from it. The contact had been deliberate, nothing like an accidental brush of the hand that can happen in such situations.
I let out my breath and willed myself to relax.
I hadn't screamed or yelled but I tried to move my hips in an attempt to dislodge the hand, the owner must have mistaken the lack of a vocal protest and my movements as a positive sign and pressed harder against my butt, exploring the shape of each cheek through my skirt cupping them in turn while rubbing a thumb back and forth.
My curiosity as to who it was overcame any feelings of annoyance as I tried to mentally picture who had got into the lift. Besides there was nothing I could do other than scream, the 'perv' was only making contact over my clothes and anyway it was kind of nice, I was quite enjoying the stimulation.
Then the hand moved away.
I was just thinking that the 'perv' had satisfied his craving for a cheap thrill when the hand touched the back of my thigh just below my hem line, it paused for a moment then began to move back up towards my buttocks, the fingers feather light on my naked skin. I realised that my lack of protest must have only served to boost his confidence and that this time the owner of the hand intended to touch me underneath my skirt. However the minor sense of shock that someone would be so bold quickly turned into a slight tingle of sexual excitement as the hand travelled slowly upward over the delicate skin at the back of my thigh, creeping further and further up my skirt until it gently circled over the firm globes of my buttocks, caressing bare skin as I had worn a low waist thong to go with my skirt.