Tracy's Legs - Sex Stories

Tracy's Legs

... hand. “Oh come on, relax,” she told me with a smirk. “You look like you’re about to pee yourself.” “Can’t you… oof… go a little slower?” I asked while we came to a screeching halt in front of a red traffic light. “Now where’s the fun in that?” And we were off again, and it suddenly dawned to me that I had no idea where we were going. Macy’s Bar, the regular meeting spot for people from our firm, was only two blocks down from the office, so we had long shot past it. I didn’t get to ask though, not until we entered a big, crowded parking space and the car shot into a free slot. “Whew,” I whispered, sighing in relief and swiping away the sheen of sweat that had formed on my forehead. I had to stumble after her across the paved parking space and cursed both the stilettos I had put on to give myself a height advantage and the tight skirt that made bigger steps impossible. I was breathing hard by the time we entered through the door. Music sounded from inside and a big, scruffy looking, leather-clad guy held out his hand from behind a counter. Trudy handed him a twenty dollar bill. “Have fun, ladies,” he greeted and sat back onto a high chair. It was a dance club, and it was already filling up even though it was just past seven. Pop music blared from the speakers, bright lights flickered and moved, and I let myself be led towards a booth at the back of the club by Trudy. I fell onto the cushioned, high-backed bench and sighed in relief. I wasn’t used to fast walks in such high ...

... heels and they were wreaking havoc on my poor feet. Wiggling my toes, I got back my breath and looked at Trudy. She smiled, but that smile didn’t reach her eyes. She held up a hand and waved, and a second later an eager waitress was at our table. Trudy ordered before the pretty blond could ask what we’d like. “A glass of white wine, Chardonnay if you have it, for me, and a Long Island Iced Tea for my friend.” “Hey,” I interjected, but Trudy simply waved the girl off and stared at me with tightening lips. My words trailed off. “Let me make this clear,” she stated in a low voice, “I normally have better things to do on weekends than hanging out with co-workers with a too high self-esteem. I know about the times you went to Mr. Morris and tried to make me look bad.” I tried to hide the shock at her words. Had Morris told her about it himself? I had counted on at least a bit of confidentiality. I felt my jaw tighten. “First, it was you who insisted on us going out, and second, I haven’t told him anything that isn’t true.” “Is that so?” Her eyebrow went up, but just then the waitress was back with our drinks. “Enjoy!” “Thank you.” Trudy raised her glass, and I had to follow her example and clink mine to hers. I was just sucking on the straw when she started talking again, and I choked on the strong drink when her words sunk in. “Do you remember Tracy?” My heart hammered so hard, I could feel the pulse in my neck. “Tracy?” I tried to play it dumb. “Tracy… oh, you mean the intern?” Of ...