Basic Instinct

Paul and I had joined the company on the same day three months ago. He’s tall, slim and handsome with short greying hair and he’s about 40 and married with daughter.
I’m Chloe, single and I’m 25. I’m a ‘fuller figured girl’ (34d-26-34) and look a bit like the singer Charlotte Church. Just like Charlotte I like to ‘party’ (drinking, smoking and fucking) in a way that my mum and a lot of people at work would probably disapprove of!

Paul is the UK Sales Manager and I’m the Head of Marketing for a clothing company based in Manchester. Because our job means that we have to work very closely on a regular basis our friendship has really blossomed in the last few months. From Paul’s point of view this must have been very difficult as I like to dress as sexily as work will allow and I’m a terrible flirt. Let me re-phrase that last part – I’m a terrific flirt!

Sometimes I can’t help myself and with Paul (who has a wicked sense of humour) it has become a game that we play whenever we are together.

This all brings me to last Wednesday night.

Not for the first time Paul and I had to visit a couple of customers to discuss our joint business plans for the next 12 months. The difference this time was that we would have to stay over in Glasgow as one buyer could only see us on the Thursday lunch time.

The build up on the Monday and Tuesday had been fun in the office with a one of my friends teasing Paul, in the canteen, about what she thought we would ‘get up to’ ‘being together’ in a romantic hotel! Paul played along with the joke by telling her that ‘Chloe would have to do all of the hard work!’ as he had a bad back. 

For the journey up North I’d dressed as soberly as possible in a nice pair of black hipster trousers, short grey jacket and a nice white cotton shirt that emphasised my cleavage, especially when I left the top three buttons undone.

We left the office at 8 am giving us plenty of time to arrive for our appointment at 1.30. The journey was quite picturesque and we chatted about the clients and joked and gossiped about some of our colleagues. At one stage he asked about my weekend. I told him about a Hen Party that I’d been with on the Friday and a club that I’d gone to on Saturday with a couple of girlfriends.
“I bet you had the fella’s running scared!” He joked.
“Something like that” I grimaced.
Paul raised his eyebrows as if to question my reply as he glanced at my chest.
“Sooner or later I’d like to catch one,” I smiled.
“Do I detect a deficiency in the loving area?” Paul grinned as his eyes burned into my chest.
I shrugged my shoulders and smiled and the conversation went off into a different area.

We finally parked the car in the neighbourhood of the client’s office at 12.15, and went into a trendy coffee shop for lunch. I tried to remain cool as the waitress showed us to a table to as several women who were already tucking into their lunches cast their ayes at Paul then shot envious looks in my direction.

“I bet they think that I’m your mistress!” I whispered as we looked at the menu.
“More likely my daughter!” Paul seemed unaware of the attention that he was getting from the other women.
“Ooh,” I smiled, “You’re not that old! I’m sure that there’s plenty of life left in you!”
The cheeky smile and twinkle in his bright blue eyes told me that I was right.

The meeting went well even if I left Paul and our customer speechless a couple of times by leaning forward a couple of times giving them a close up view of my boobs. I also discretely bent over in such a way that Paul would also get a secret flash of my pink thong as they rose above the waist of my hipster trousers. 

Being the gentleman that he is; he never mentioned anything; even on the drive back to our hotel. 
Paul had asked me to meet him in the Hotel bar at 7.30, which gave me over an hour to shower and get dressed.

I couldn’t believe my luck when I opened the door to my bedroom; I was in a suite! I had a dressing area, a sofa and matching chair plus the bed was absolutely huge.

I smiled to myself when I saw that my room was overlooked by a large office block and some of the lights were still on. As well as being a flirt I’m also an outrageous tease; so without closing the wooden blinds I began to get undressed hoping some pervert would watch me. When I was a teenage girl living at home, I used to drive two of my neighbours wild by walking around my bedroom half naked for hours on end! I swear that one of them used a pair of binoculars when he was watching me getting dressed or undressed.

Standing about three feet away from the window I kicked off my shoes, unbuckled my belt and leisurely peeled off my trousers taking great care to expose my generous arse to my new friend. Without actually looking out I faced the window when I dropped my blouse onto the bed leaving me standing in just my sexy underwear. As I turned away I’m sure I spotted a guy trying to hide behind a blind staring at me. I tried to keep a straight face as I proceeded to lean forward into the mirror looking for ‘something in my eyes’ so my ample backside pretty much faced my voyeur. 

Time was getting on and flashing at my stranger was making me very, very horny. Without undressing any more I went into the bathroom and ran a shower.
As I slipped out of my knickers I couldn’t resist touching my pussy. Mmmm…it felt very hot and wet, just right for a little fun in the shower. As I stepped into the bath I caught my reflection in the mirror; my pubes were a bit hairier than I normally like, especially if the night was going to end as I hoped. 

Because of my drunken weekend I hadn’t had time to trim my box with my electric razor. There was nothing else for it as I stretched forward and fumbled in my wash-bag. I would have to go Brazilian!

The hot water was thrilling as the power-shower cascaded against my firm breasts and the shampoo bubbles ran down my stomach and between my legs. It was great fun as I covered my nubile young body with soft soapy foam then let the tumbling water wash it off. After a couple of minutes I lathered up my pubes then rested my right foot on the side of the bath. I took a deep breath and swiped the razor downwards leaving a furrow of pink flesh in the middle of my hairy forest. A dozen flashes of Gillette later and the last of my dark pubes were spinning down the drain. I felt deliciously brazen as I finished off by pulling my swollen labia to one side as I sliced away the very last of my stubble leaving my genital area completely bald for the first time since I was 12.

As I dried myself I could hardly stop touching the soft hairless skin or staring at my bald pussy in the mirror. God knows I was now absolutely desperate for relief; but I wanted to keep my pent up passion for later. I just hoped that Paul would appreciate the sacrifice that I was making for him.

Just wrapped in a towel I sauntered back into main bedroom. A furtive look told me that my voyeur was still in his office; therefore my show could continue.
I dropped the towel and bent over my suitcase making sure that my tits were dangling in profile for my little Scottish friend.
I slowly selected the underwear that I’d brought specially for Paul; a matching black and silver bra and thong from La Perla and a pair of 8 denier shiny black hold-up stockings. It was Hellishly exciting as I gradually pulled my knickers up over my hips then eased each stocking up my long legs; meticulously checking how I looked in the mirror, knowing that it would be driving ‘him’ crazy. I was now trembling so much I was in danger of actually having an orgasm as I stuffed my aching tits into my bra!
As I finally straightened my black and white wrap-over dress I was desperately hoping that the voyeur had had a wank while he’d been watching me, because it was killing me not being able to do the same! As I painted my lips with a bright shade of red lipstick all of my erogenous zones were on red alert!

Paul’s pint glass was nearly empty as I nonchalantly strolled, fashionably late, through the bar to where my colleague was sitting. I love the effect that wearing high heals and a non-wired bra has on my posture. My hips sway and my large breasts always ‘jiggle’ just enough to get the attention that I crave.
“You look nice.” He smiled as he eyed my body from head to toe.
“I know!” I laughed as I sat down opposite him, “I just hope that you appreciate the effort that I’ve gone to.”
Paul shrugged his shoulders, smirked and spread his hands in a manner that told me he was lost for words!

“Would you like a drink?” He asked me as he stared at my chest like a baby boy at feeding time.
“Yes please,” I replied as I lit a cigarette and crossed my legs like Sharon Stone did in Basic Interest, “a Southern Comfort and lemonade in a long glass.” 

It wasn’t only Paul’s eyes that were out on stalks; at least three businessmen sitting at the end of the bar virtually had their tongues hanging out as they too got an ‘accidental’ glimpse of a stocking top. 

When he returned with my drink Paul made small talk about the restaurant and a new bar that he wanted to visit as I continued my Sharon Stone impersonation, accidentally flashing my stocking tops every time I crossed my legs. An ex-boyfriend once told me that there can be something powerfully erotic when a woman smokes her cigarette in a certain manner. I did…and it appeared to have the right effect. 

We eventually took a taxi to the Centre of town where we had a beautiful meal downstairs in Rogano’s, followed by drinks in a couple of ultra-hip bars eventually ending upstairs in the Horseshoe Bar where we had another drink as we watched a bunch of wacky locals with terrific voices belting out songs on the Karaoke. 

I still couldn’t figure Paul out. I had linked his arm as we went from bar to bar and acted as sexily as possible without actually appearing like a slut; he appeared to love the attention and flirted as much as usual; yet he never tried make any type of move no matter how hard I tried to tempt him.

Perhaps he really was happily married and faithful. Never mind, I consoled myself, I would frig myself senseless as soon as I was alone in my bedroom.

When the taxi finally dropped us back at the Holiday Inn Paul asked if I wanted another drink.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I giggled.
“Do I need to?” my colleague asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
“No.” I responded bluntly and stroked his hand
Paul leant forward and gently moved some stray hairs from my face and then planted a soft kiss on my lips that felt like a 1,000 tiny Summer raindrops.
“Let’s go to bed then,” I whispered in a matter of fact manner.

Thankfully there wasn’t anyone in the lift so I grabbed his shirt and kissed him with as much force as I could gather in my drunken state. I instantly forced my tongue into his mouth twisting it around, running the tip along his teeth. Paul responded in kind then slid his hand inside my dress sliding his fingers up my stockings until he found the flesh of my thigh. I automatically wrapped my leg around his hip and rubbed myself against his groin as he playfully spanked my arse and tugged the back of my thong until it disappeared inside my pulsating pussy. Paul’s tongue was now halfway down my throat and his hand was now cupping my arse cheek like he was weighing it.

‘Ping’ went the lift and we had to disentangle ourselves as we suddenly arrived at our floor. 

“Are you sure about this?” Paul whispered as he ran his finger along the exposed part of my breast.
“I didn’t think that you were interested in me!” I chided him as I fell back against the lift wall.
He cheekily grinned and shrugged his shoulders; “I didn’t want to look too easy.”
I shook my head in mild disbelief and made no attempt to adjust my dishevelled clothing as we hurried hand in hand along the corridor to my bedroom.