Angel with a Blue Dress

Story Info
Intimate coworkers let each other go, but fate intervenes.
12.3k words
4.79
14.5k
22
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
panaflora
panaflora
241 Followers

All sexually active characters in this work of fiction are aged 18 years or older.

This story begins c. 1981; imagine (or recall) no cell phones, no internet, no streaming, no digital photography. Recorded music meant vinyl records. There were still smoking seats on commercial airplanes. Please adjust your frame of reference accordingly, and have a Happy New Year.

Many thanks to karaline for insightful comments and encouragement.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Three years after graduating with my Master's degree I was working at a large engineering firm in Chicago. Out of the blue I was approached by the head of the Chicago office of the California-based consulting firm, Nydek Inc, with the proverbial better offer. I suppose my name had been getting around in the industry, at least locally. Such talent raiding was fairly common then. I'd also moved into the second floor of a two flat in a quiet neighborhood, with a charming little old German landlady who lived on the ground floor. This location was handy to the bus and transit line. Life suddenly looked good.

My new firm's office was largely a younger crowd. The head of the office couldn't have been older than 45. There was a convivial atmosphere about the place, with a fair amount of after work partying. Another of the office's attractions was a nice sprinkling of single women. I now had ample opportunity to work on my neglected flirting skills. Even the attached women loved to banter and make little innuendos with their male colleagues. This was quite different from the comparative stuffiness of my former firm.

Some Fridays after work, fifteen or so of us would hit the bar downstairs in our office tower for Happy Hour -- wings, beers, and mixed drinks. I was accepted into the Friday crowd without hesitation. I was hardly a male model, but I knew how to dress sharply, was articulate on a variety of topics, and could let my hair down. Another Friday tradition involved a group heading to the infamous Billy Goat Tavern on lower Michigan Avenue for an "extended lunch."

Despite the casual atmosphere, the younger personnel in the office also prided themselves on their productivity. The office was a living laboratory in demonstrating how high morale can translate into more work accomplished. Whenever needed, people would work unpaid overtime to get through a crunch. Blowing off steam was simply a good way to balance things out.

The partying might have significantly impacted my physique. However, my new office was located in a complex east of North Michigan Avenue near the river; this location was nearly a mile from some of my usual lunchtime haunts, the classical section of Rose Records on Wabash Avenue, or the Art Institute. I often found myself walking briskly for two miles during lunch hour. Even with the Friday tavern socializing I had slimmed down several pounds.

The only real social problem I had was that bantering with the office ladies did not result in any true interested-in-dating vibe. Also, against my better judgment, I developed a bit of an infatuation for a woman in the office named Claudia -- even though she was attached.

Claudia grabbed my attention from the first day in my new position. She was a willowy blonde, about my age or maybe a bit younger. Her styled hair neatly framed her face, which displayed a wide mouth, dazzling smile, and wide-set big blue eyes. At around 5' 10" she was just a hair taller than me. Many guys might have considered her a bit of a flawed beauty, since Claudia was quite lacking in the boob department. That didn't bother me in the least, because every interaction I had with her came with a genuinely agreeable smile, easy conversation, and the unshakeable sense that we simply enjoyed being around each other. She had a warm, engaging personality. The obstacle concerning Claudia was that she lived with her boyfriend Denny. Everybody who had met him liked Denny.

The first day I met Claudia, my new manager introduced me as "Mike." I quickly put out my hand and said to her, "Hello, I'm Michael."

She smiled and replied, "Nice to meet you, Michael." She slightly emphasized my name as she grasped my hand warmly. Claudia worked in project planning, tracking budgets and schedule.

Two days later in the hall she stopped me and said, "You really prefer to be called Michael, right?"

I nodded.

"I should remember that, but just remind me if I slip up, ok?" She beamed at me. No one else in the office had picked up so quickly how I disliked being called "Mike."

*******

One Friday the usual gang headed off to the Billy Goat for lunch. I was in a gloomy mood, facing another dateless weekend, and just didn't feel up to it. I also couldn't really concentrate on work, so I found myself more or less woolgathering at my desk.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

I looked up at the tall woman leaning casually against my cubicle entrance.

"Oh, hi, Claudia." I'm afraid my greeting lacked its usual enthusiasm since I was really feeling kind of down.

"Didn't everyone go over to Billy Goat?"

"Yeah, they did. I just wasn't up for it today."

She was having none of that. "I just finished my reports, so I'm ready for some lunch. Come on, Michael, get off your butt and let's go, they'll all still be there!"

Her enthusiasm was infectious, as was her dazzling smile. I couldn't resist getting up from my desk to join her in spite of my doldrums. Soon we were walking briskly toward the Michigan Avenue Bridge, Claudia chattering away happily. She was wearing a robin's egg blue knit wrap dress with a plunging neckline, and matching flats. I once heard her joking about this dress while pointing to her chest, because "I barely have anything here to hold it up!" I didn't care. I thought she looked stunning in it.

We crossed the bridge and went down the stairs to access the Billy Goat. Our gang had taken over several tables and pushed them together. The chatter was rather loud so I knew that the Old Style beer had already been flowing freely. The first one to spot us was Dale, a pudgy, affable designer with a big moustache and one of those carrying voices. "Hey, Michael's with Claudia!" Dale's version of a stage whisper could put cracks in the drywall. His eyes were bulging out at us.

The gang quickly grabbed two more chairs and made room for us. Only two other women were there, both of who were always friendly to me. One, Marcie, was married to Ron, another friend of mine in the office. She gave us a big smile. Our chairs secured, Claudia and I headed into the line to order our "Cheezborgers" and grab a beer.

I had braced myself for a bit of teasing over arriving with Claudia, but the by now well-lubricated gang didn't harass us at all. Everybody was just having a good time. Claudia was sitting next to me and she never let our conversation lag. I occasionally caught a whiff of her delightful scent. I could get used to this, I thought -- then I remembered about Denny. Oh, well.

We eventually headed back to the office. It was well after 2:00. I knew that our management looked the other way on Friday afternoons; hell, some of them even reserved regular Friday afternoon tee times. Claudia looked at me during the walk back. "See, aren't you glad you came?" She had her sunbeam smile working.

My mood was in fact greatly improved. "Yes, I am. Thank you for dragging my sorry ass along."

She smiled again and then grabbed my arm as we walked along. I looked quickly around, but the rest of the gang was ahead of us. I knew that we were feeling no pain, but this sort of physical contact was something new and different in our interactions. Maybe she was just miming the "dragging along" remark?

I didn't get much work done for the rest of the afternoon either. I avoided Claudia's cubicle because I didn't want any rumors swirling around our smallish office. Who was sleeping with whoever was a standard topic for animated water cooler discussion. Typically it was the single people, but I did later hear of one affair involving a married guy. That was an exception, fortunately.

The following Monday I was in the can. I had just reached the sink to wash up when Dale came in. He even opened doors loudly. He beamed at me. "Hey, you and Claudia came to Billy Goat together." I explained how she pulled me out of my bad mood that day.

"She's a friend, that's all. And obviously, she's one classy lady."

Dale nodded. "She is. I figured that you guys wouldn't be sneaking around. Unlike some other people who work here. Hey, did you hear about Vanessa kissing..."

I clapped my hands over my ears, chanting "Wah, wah, wah!" as I headed for the door. Dale guffawed loudly.

*******

Claudia seemed especially friendly to me in the weeks that followed. A few times she gave me a ride to the office. She would call me the night before and ask if I'd like a ride, and when to pick me up. It was all very casual, and very comfortable. Sometimes she would pop into my cubicle just to chitchat. Still, there was nothing overt to indicate that we were anything other than office friends -- certainly nothing like obvious flirting or revealing outfits.

One Friday we all headed down to Happy Hour at the downstairs bar. We got several plates of nachos and wings, and I was soon two gin and tonics into the evening. Claudia lit a cigarette, but then she noticed me wincing. "Oh, does the smoke bother you?"

"I'm sorry. It triggers my allergies something fierce," I said, shrugging.

She crushed the butt into an ashtray. She was not only observant but considerate. "There's no need for you to be sorry. It's no big deal to put it out. I mostly only smoke when I'm having drinks. It wouldn't hurt me to just quit, anyway."

The bar seemed to be getting louder than usual, even for Happy Hour, and it was becoming difficult to have any real conversation. Claudia leaned over to whisper in my ear, "I'm going to the ladies' room. Meet me outside in a few?" I nodded.

No one really noticed the comings and goings of people as drinks were downed. I gave Claudia ten minutes and then headed toward the restrooms. As I came out of the men's room, I turned and slipped out the bar exit. She was waiting for me by the hot dog place just down the corridor.

She smiled. "Nicely done, that was just long enough so that no one could make the connection."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "I feel like we're characters in a bad spy novel."

Claudia giggled. "Hey, it was so loud in there I was getting a splitting headache. I just had to get the hell out. It's still early. Do you want to go somewhere else?"

We talked about some possibilities. I had a wild thought. "Would you like to get ice cream?"

"Sure, that sounds like fun! Where?"

I knew Claudia always drove to work, while I usually took the el. "Well, I know a Baskin-Robbins store, but it's all the way up on Peterson..."

Claudia said, "Oh of course, I know that one too, that's only about a mile from my place! You live really close to there too."

"I'm just three blocks away."

"Then it's your home turf! Come on, I'm parked in the garage."

*******

Claudia was digging into her peach sundae, while I ate my usual scoop of mint chocolate chip. She was in a crisp white button up shirt and black skirt, very professional yet still feminine. Her top button was open, hardly a sexy come-on. I noted that she didn't wear much makeup, just a bit of mascara, a hint of blush, and lipstick. I've always preferred real natural beauty to the highly painted look. Her hair was nicely styled as usual, and her soft scent floated across the table to me.

We had both sobered up a bit but the conversation still flowed freely. It was so much quieter in the ice cream shop that we could easily make little verbal nuances to each other. Claudia and I talked about our respective families. Her family was of Baltic origin, Latvian I think, which explained her blonde, blue-eyed beauty. We discussed our college lives, previous jobs, all those types of things that would typically come up on a date. But this wasn't a date, I told myself. It couldn't possibly be a date, could it?

I learned that she was looking to move on beyond her current position. "I'm making decent money, but I would really like to travel more. So I'm looking into opportunities that might enable that. Denny's still on the road all through next week but I'm kind of stuck here." She flashed me a smile. "Not that I'm complaining one bit about being with you! I really am enjoying spending this time with you, and I'm so glad we finally got out of that noisy bar."

I smiled. "I'm enjoying being with you, too, Claudia. This sure beats pouring my drunken self into an el car for the long ride home."

Claudia beamed. Still, I was taken a bit aback. Questions were now whirling around in my head. I had never heard a single office rumor concerning Claudia's social behavior. She seemed like the model of a cool young professional woman. Yet here we were, just a short walk from my apartment, and she had made it very clear how much she enjoyed my company, as well as mentioning that her boyfriend was out of town. Women sometimes complain that men don't pick up on their signals, but I was starting to feel a bit like her signals were whacking my thick skull with a two-by-four.

We finished our ice cream and exited the shop. She turned to me with eyebrows raised and a questioning smile, without moving to her car. It seemed that our evening was not meant to be over just yet.

I nervously took the plunge. "My place is only a few blocks down. Would you like a nightcap, or a cup of coffee or something?" I managed to get that out without stuttering.

"That would be great! I can leave my car here, right? It's so nice out tonight that we can walk."

I was a bit surprised by her enthusiastic response. She took my arm again. I was anxious the first time she had done that, but now it felt truly natural as we strolled down my side street. I could feel my heartbeat ramping up.

Claudia was silent during our brief walk, but it didn't feel at all uncomfortable after we had talked so much in the ice cream store. We approached my building and I pulled open the vestibule door for Claudia. I unlocked the door to the stairs and we went up to my place.

Claudia scrutinized my apartment. "Wow, you really have a lot of neat art books and records. You said you mostly listen to classical music?"

"Mostly, yes. I really got into it in school when I took six music courses. I still have some of the progressive rock albums I liked in college, like Jethro Tull, and some blues, Muddy and Junior Wells. This after all is Chicago. But I rarely play loud music when my landlady is home."

"That's pretty eclectic, even impressive for an engineer." She was studying the large framed photo on the wall next to the cuckoo clock, opposite the doorway. "This is really picturesque. Big Sur? Have you ever been there?"

"No, I bought that at the 57th Street Art Fair. I needed something for that open wall space and I liked the neutral color palette."

Claudia looked at me. "You are really an interesting guy, Michael."

She moved to the living room where I had a triptych of framed black and white photos arranged along the wall above the sofa. They showed three different views of dramatically shifting dark clouds after a storm. "Where did you get these? Another art fair, or a gallery?"

"No, I... I took those photos myself."

"No kidding! They're quite arty." She smiled at me.

I finally steered her into the kitchen. "I could make us cappuccinos, I have a machine."

She looked over to my small wine rack. "Let's open a bottle, ok?"

"Sure," I said. "Do you want to pick something?"

"Oh, any nice red wine will be fine."

I pulled out a Spanish Tempranillo and fished the corkscrew out of the drawer. After pulling the cork I opened the cupboard where my vintage etched glassware was stored. I took down two elegant green and crystal goblets.

Claudia took one and inspected it. "Michael, I am really starting to feel a bit out of my depth here."

"Nonsense, considering the present company I should be the one feeling out of my league." That got me another smile. I continued, "These goblets were made by Fostoria, and the pattern is called Versailles. They date to 1928 or shortly after. Fostoria is still around but they are a mere shadow of their former glory days."

"Holy shit, how did you get so interested in this amazing old glassware?"

I showed her the entire cupboard contents. "I just started finding them in antique shops. I've also been to a couple of Depression glass shows. These goblets are not very expensive, I have around fifteen different patterns. I found that I just really like sipping my wine from an elegant glass like this. You can't find anything like this in the stores these days." I looked at her. "I hope you don't find that weird or show-offish."

Claudia looked at me, chuckling. "Not at all. It just seems that you have more layers than an onion. It may take me a while to really get a handle on you." She gave me that wide smile.

*******

We were sitting on the sofa, sipping our wine and listening to Glenn Gould playing Bach. It seemed like a nice way to end the day. I had not had such an enjoyable experience in months. We both had our shoes off now, and Claudia was rubbing one foot on mine. That felt comfortable and, I admitted to myself, intimate.

Then Claudia put her glass down on the end table, shifted next to me and pulled my left arm around her. I pushed the nagging doubts out of my head and pulled her closer. I handed her my glass and she put it carefully next to hers.

I was lost in her closeness, the sensation of her warm body pressed against me. She looked at me, her eyes partly closed. "Michael," she said softly, "I would really enjoy a kiss."

I would enjoy that myself, I thought. I put my other hand behind her neck and pulled her in. At first I just brushed her lips, teasing her a bit. Then we both adjusted and our lips met squarely. The soft, sensual contact was intoxicating, and she was a full participant. She did not pull away. I finally did.

Her voice was a bit breathy now. "That was really nice. Do you have another one for me?"

I did, and soon we were wrapped up in each other. Our breathing became heavier. My head was swimming a bit with her womanly scent. Claudia was far sexier than any of my girlfriends had been, and there was no mistaking her obvious arousal. I was well past any hesitation over her having a boyfriend.

We made out for a while with some tongue. She was quite a nice kisser, I thought. The Bach record side ended. I had a manual turntable so I got up to lift the tonearm from the run-out grooves. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows. "Claudia, I could switch to the radio..."

"Or we could take this little party to your bedroom," she said softly, without any hesitation, a small, almost shy smile on her face. Holy fuck. I was trying to keep my head on straight, but that two-by-four had done a number on me.

I took her hand, helped her to her feet, and led her down the hall. "Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"Thank you, that's probably a good idea. I'll be right out."

I still held her hand. "Claudia, should I get a condom?"

She smiled. "No need, Michael. I'm clean and I have an IUD." She kissed me. "It's so sweet of you to ask, though." Then she slipped into the bathroom.

I sat on my bed. Well at least lose the tie and socks, I told myself. You can follow her lead with the rest.

Claudia came into the bedroom. She was no longer wearing pantyhose, I noticed, and her long, smooth legs drew my eyes. She came right up to me for a kiss as I stood and reached for her. I unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it gently out of her skirt. She held her hand against my chest and hesitated. "Michael, this won't exactly be any big revelation."

panaflora
panaflora
241 Followers