Friday Afternoon - Sex Stories

Friday Afternoon

... colour. Oh yes and she wore size six shoes. Me - well I'm me. I don't know what to tell you. I have freckles; I don't like my hair because it's thick, grows too fast and is unmanageable. I am well-built thanks to my parents' genes and hence I'm a 36c bust size. According to my boyfriend I have a cute button nose but then he likes fishing all through the night as well so I tend to dismiss his affectionate comments especially when he would come home and wake me up with the smell of his fish hands. Although I do admit he can be really sweet and romantic at times. As I said in my opening paragraph why would a heterosexual girl find a married woman attractive? Yet here I was over a period of months finding myself looking at her, staring at times. I can only describe it as a schoolgirl crush thing, though I never had one, not even with a male teacher. I already mentioned her smile; she had brown eyes and wore a medium red lipstick. You could say she was just an average office worker. Sometimes she wore black trousers and sometimes a skirt. There was one skirt I did like though. It was a long black skirt with a vibrant orange red flower pattern. It would never have been something that suited me but on her slimmer figure it worked. Especially when she would bend over to file something and it would tighten across her hips and bottom. See how it happened, I began to notice these little things about her. There were also the long thighs she had when she wore trousers. They seemed ...

... disproportionate to her lower legs. Not in a weird way and to the casual eye it wasn't obvious. I mean I hadn't noticed it before my eyes took an interest in her. Another thing I also began to see or more like hear was her voice. She had what I began to describe as a cute girly lilt when she spoke. Don't ask me what it was but when she spoke she would stand up straight with square shoulders and tell you something. Her voice was quiet and gentle and she spoke with her whole face especially her eyes. With some people they use their hands to gesture, with Ann it was her eyes, a bit like Roger Moore as James Bond. She would widen, squint or roll them depending on what she was trying to convey. We began go for walks at lunchtime when she didn't have shopping bits to get. For twenty minutes or so we would wander around the local shops often aimlessly as we chatted about something and nothing. It got to be that when she went shopping I felt left out as I sat eating what was left of my lunch on my own or with my boss. Another thing that snuck up on me was how I began to think about her out of work. Not all the time but suddenly I would think about her, often at the strangest times. The first time I was conscious I was doing it was one Saturday about tea time when I was washing up some pots. Why? Well Ann always washed up the cups about this time before we went home. I always offered to do them but no she would insist on doing them. I remember doing them one afternoon as she was very busy ...