Audit season

Audits are a crazy time for office workers, dredging up all sorts of paperwork that you forgot existed and making sure it's properly filed to be looked at precisely once a year for compliance. This year my work load was light and I had a sideline view of the file cabinet festivities, I was quietly packing up to slide out the back door just a wee bit early on a Friday but I didn't make it. Dawn was between me and the exit, the beginnings of tears in her eyes as she unloaded about how she had to correct a whole quarter's worth of accounts after one of her interns had bungled the data entry. I tried to wish her the best of luck with it while edging towards the exit, I could almost see it, but she played off of my good nature. Well, my good nature and her tight top. Which had my pants tightening more than the back of her skirt. I agreed to help out but stuck to my guns enough to get dinner out of it, on the company card, and a sly nudge that no one would know if I took a slug from any bottle that might be in her filing cabinet.

We worked steadily, conversing lightly as we went. The end was nearly in sight when she proposed a break, we shared a couple fingers of a decent bourbon and chatted about our weekend plans. I didn't have anything particular in mind and nudged things away from my boring social life, prompting her to commiserate that her hubby was out of town on some kind of family thing. I may have stopped listening, her gesturing was making her cleavage do some very interesting things. The office was empty so we extended our break with another finger of bourbon while I tried not to focus on wanting to slide a finger under her button and just... She yelped and stuck her finger in her mouth, it was so sexy and pouty for the slip second before I realized that her gesticulation had flung her hand right across a stack of papers. It must have been a real good cut, there was a bright red droplet soaking into her blouse.

I pointed out the droplet as I handed her a tissue, she squeezed her finger and cursed. I tidied up the wild stacks of papers, bored, while she hurried to the bathroom to prevent staining of the delicate fabric. I wasn't expecting her to come in with her blouse on a hanger. She leaned against the doorway, hanger hooked lazily on a finger, with her breasts pushed high and proud over a toned midriff that she obviously worked hard to maintain. "This isn't how I thought you'd see my tits," she purred, "but the place is deserted and I'm not going to miss an opportunity. Are you?"