My Dad's Receptionist: Nancy

"Oh...!" I started, and pulled my legs off the desk, coming more upright. "Hey! What...? What are you doing here...?"

She laughed softly, aware that she'd woken me, "I could ask you the same thing..."

She was dressed pretty much as per normal. Apparently what she wore to work was what she wore at home. I liked that for some reason. Trademark blue jean shorts, except today they were cut-offs, slightly higher than normal. Tight, black t-shirt which outlined her larger-than-average rack nicely. Except today, instead of little white tennis shoes at the bottom of her deliciously tanned and toned legs, she just wore a pair of bright blue flip-flops.

But, aside from that, there was something different about her, I couldn't put my finger on.

"Well, the answer to that one is easy," I said, "I'm here sleeping off a hangover. Some hot, older woman bought me hard alcohol yesterday... can you believe that? And... I may have availed myself of too much of it."

"Ohhhh, really, huh?" She smirked and cocked an eyebrow, "How hot was she?"

It was then I noticed what was different

"Hey, nice nails!"

Her face lit up momentarily and she flashed me a smile, only for it to disappear nearly as quickly as it arrived and be replaced with rolling eyes. She sat down in her chair opposite me but didn't turn as usual to her computer.

"Well! I'm glad somebody noticed." She gruffly crossed her arms and her legs at the same time, balling herself up tight as tight.

Then, I saw it wasn't just her fingers.

"Wow, fingers and toes? Must have been some kind of special occasion, huh?" I asked.

She stiffened her jaw and looked up at the ceiling. "You could say that."

She wasn't feeling super-receptive to my line of questioning, so I thought I'd momentarily change the subject.

"You... want a coffee?

She turned her face back to me and it softened with a smile, "Yes, please."

***

I returned with two steaming cups. Mine, black the way I liked it. Hers milky with sugar, the way she liked it.

She smiled at me and took it carefully from me when I handed it to her. Briefly, her fingers touched mine and I felt butterflies like usual. She probably felt nothing, like usual.

She sighed and sat back in her chair, resting her coffee delicately in her lap, "Matt, you're the only guy who's made me coffee in months."

This surprised me. I'd never really heard much about her family. I knew she was married to a guy named Jeff with kids, the oldest about three years younger than me, and that's about it. I kicked myself for not knowing more.

"Ouch, really? Shouldn't husbands know to do that?"

"There! You see!" She animatedly sat forward and pointed at me, "That is exactly right. I'm not the only one who thinks that a husband ought to show a little care for his wife, right?"

"Well, I dunno. Seems like it'd score some points, ya know?"

She sipped her coffee and rolled her eyes again muttering, "It most certainly would."

"Your nails really do look nice," I said. "Red. That's hot. I don't know why. Just is."

She beamed at the compliment, twinkling her fingers around her coffee cup, and raising up those tanned legs to show off and wiggle her toes, now free of the flip-flops she'd kicked off.

"Well, thank you, Matty... but you really don't have to say they're 'hot' or anything."

Confusion crinkled up my face, "Why not?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed, "Oh, come on, Matt! I'm 25 years older than you. I was literally pregnant with my second child when you were born. I'm sure you've got your eyes on girls a lot younger than me."

Maybe it was the after-effects of the booze that lingered in my system, or the fact that it was a Saturday and we were alone in the office, or that her fingers and toes really did something to me, but I said boldly, "Nancy, women are women. As far as I'm concerned, you can be a hottie at 18, 25, 36, or 55. Doesn't matter. If you're hot, you're hot. If you're not, you're not. No amount of youth is going to change that... and you're a fox." I winked at her over my cup.

She genuinely smiled into her coffee and looked at me affectionately, "...and you're sweet. Thank you. I needed that."

An awkward silence fell on us as we sipped our coffees.

"Sooo," I said, "what happened last night?"

She downed her cup like it was a shot of whiskey and set it on her desk.

"Anniversary," she said plainly, "He forgot. Again."

"Ouch. Really?"

"Yep! And I really tried to make it obvious for him this year. I did my fingers and toes. Caked on the mascara. Did my hair the way he likes. Or, the way I think he likes, given a few comments over the years, but I mean who the hell knows? I even put on new set of matching lingerie and was waiting like that in the walk-in closet, coyly picking out a dress to wear when he got home."

"Nice," I popped my eyebrows twice and smiled. "So, what happened?" I asked.

"He came in, popped his keys on the table, didn't even come and find me, grabbed a beer, drank the whole thing, belched very loudly and then hollered, 'I'm going to poker! Be back late!' Then he was gone."

I gave her a pained look in commiseration.

"Then what?" I asked.

A tear rolled down her cheek, but she wiped it away without much emotion.

"Well... I took off my lingerie... because I felt ridiculous in it. Put on some PJs, drank a bottle of wine, ate three brownies, and went to bed."

I gave her another look that tried to communicate how sorry I was that she'd had such a shitty night.

"So... what brought you here?"

She shrugged. I woke up this morning and he was passed out in bed. I had a shower. Got dressed. Decided I hated the sight of him and wanted to be anywhere but at home. Told the kids to look after each other, grabbed my new lingerie because I didn't want him to find it and for me to feel even more ridiculous, and went for a drive. I saw your car when I was passing by so came to investigate."

She gave me a sly smile and I laughed, "What're you going to do with the lingerie?"

She shrugged again, "Probably toss it. Shame, too. No one even saw me in it." She scrunched up her mouth and furrowed her brow in disappointment, "And it was expensive, too!"

The last bit seemed to be in defiance of the verdict she'd already pronounced on the ill-fated lingerie.

I leaned back in my chair, heart pounding at what I was about to say.

"Well... I'm here...? Show me." I folded my hands over my chest.

She smirked, rolled her eyes and gave a soft giggle, "Uhh, yeah right."

"What? Why not...?" I plied "You said yourself, it's expensive stuff, right? May as well at least get some miles on it before you throw it away."

"I dooooooon't think so, mister." She smiled. Somehow it didn't seem sincere.

"Plus," I said, "Once you've worn everything, instead of throwing them... you could give 'em to me. As a memento of our morning together. Remember the good times of the morning? I made you coffee... I complimented your nails... I..." I struggled to think, then reached down into my duffel bag and pulled out the Jack Daniels, "I poured you a stronger drink...?"

She looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath as she smiled, seemingly contemplating, and gave a big exhale as she rested her eyes on me.

"You pour. I'll run to my car."

***

I was in shock. My hand was actually shaking as I poured her a shot of whiskey into a clean coffee cup and set it on her desk. I took a quick swig right from the bottle, recoiling at the hair of the dog.

She'd been in her bathroom for a little while. I wondered if she was going to chicken out. Call it quits. Whatever.

But then I heard the bathroom door open and I struggled to contain my excitement. Any second, the woman I'd gradually come to lust over for weeks now would walk into the room wearing...

...the same clothes she had been wearing...

I was confused.

"Wait... What?"

She giggled and sat down, "Oh, my gosh! Matt, I've never seen you look so disappointed!"

"Well, I mean... I'm confused... where is the lingerie??"

She smiled coyly and looked at the ceiling, barely whispering her reply, "It's underneath!" She picked up her cup of whiskey and took a sip.

The game was afoot.

"Oh! Okay, um... So, how do we do this. And... can I take pictures?"

"No! Absolutely not!" She laughed, aghast at the idea.

"Awww... why not?"

"Nawww, I can't take that look, Matt! And because... this is just between us, and it's only going to be for a minute and, just... no."

"Not even one..?" I gave her the biggest puppy dog eyes I could muster.

She bit her lip and smiled back, rolling her eyes. "Okay, one. And not of my face." She downed the rest of her whiskey in one shot.

"Awesome! So... how do we do this?"

She shrugged and swallowed hard, "I don't know..! I've kind of forgot how to be... sexy." She shrugged again and looked disheartened. I knew I needed to bolster her confidence or I'd risk this going totally south.

"No, you haven't. You've been doing it all morning," I said, "And every day."

She scoffed and looked away, embarrassed.

"Nancy... do you know what porn is?"

She hooted with laughter, "Ah-ha! I'm not that old! Of course, I do!"

I cringed and shrugged, "Okay, okay! How was I supposed to know?? Anyway... I can unabashedly state, loud and clear, you have changed my porn habits."

She screwed up her face in confusion. "How do you mean?"

"Well... Let me put it this way..." I shook my head and looked at the ceiling, scarcely believing I was about to disclose what I was about to disclose.

"...what?" She asked, eagerly.

"I now can't even cum if I'm not looking at a blond... slender... big boobed... tanned legged... awesome ass... short haired... 30-40 year old woman... and ideally she needs to be pretending to be a receptionist."

Her mouth slightly opened in shock but her eyes glossed over and sparkled.

"...Really?"

I nodded. "Yep."

"You.. think I'm slender?"

I looked at her like she'd gone a bit crazy, "Don't you?"

"I suppose..." She said unsure.

"Nancy, I think you're all of those things. That's why I look for them." I laughed. "I'm looking for you when I look at porn nowadays. Shame you're not there..."

"But... I'm heeeere..." She said, coyly.

"Now you get why I want to take pictures?"

She smiled big and bit her lip.

"Soooo... still just one picture?" I queried.

She smiled and rolled her eyes, "Oh, okay. Get your phone. But none of my face. Okay? Promise?"

I was already fishing my phone out of my pocket as I said, "Promise!"

"Ready when you are," I said, readying the camera.

"Okay hot shot, if you were directing a porno of me... what would I do?"

I laughed, "Ummm, a lot more than you're prepared to do."

She giggled, "Okay, what besides that?"

"Okay, so the options are... do I have you take your shirt off, or your shorts off first, right?"

"Gosh, when you say it like that I literally cannot believe I'm doing this." She put her hands over her face and leaned back in her chair.

"Okay!" I said hurriedly, "We won't talk about it. Ummmm.... shirt first."

"Oooookay...!" She said, "I hope you like them."

"Nancy, there isn't an ounce of lingerie that you could wear and show off to me that I wouldn't love," I said earnestly.

She smiled brightly, "And that is why you get to see, and the moron doesn't."

"I'm cool with that!" I said. "Wait, hang on," I said as she leaned forward and grabbed the hem of her shirt, "How close can I be?"

She stopped her work and shrugged, "Close as you wanna be I guess?"

In a flash, I'd rolled my chair over to hers. Camera out and up, pointed right at her chest.

"Oh, my! That is close!"

I smirked, "Yeah, but not as close as I want to be." I gave her a wink.

"You are terrible."

I laughed, "Okay... whip that baby off, I'm ready. I'm so ready."

She grabbed her hem again and started slowly pulling up, making overly dramatic sexy faces as she went. I loved it, even if she was hamming it up.

Her tummy wasn't that of a teenager, but I didn't want it to be. It had a little more curve to it. Softer looking. Kissable. Her hips struggled to be contained by her shorts and I just wanted to bite everything I could see, it looked so delicious. Her bellybutton was gorgeous, and I was snapping away with each inch she pulled up.

She paused momentarily when she reached the bottom of her bra, biting her lip and looking me straight in the eye before whipping the whole shirt up and off, ruffling up her cute, pixie blond hair.

She threw the shirt in a corner and leaned back in her chair, allowing me to snap away. It was gorgeous. Black lace. Not an underwire. More of a bralette, which for the size of her tits was doing its level best to contain them, but it really wasn't good enough.

I snapped some pictures of some underboob sneaking out at the bottom. I zoomed in on her ample, sun-freckled cleavage.

Meanwhile, I was hard as a rock. A sexual fantasy was sitting before me in a pair of cut offs and her bra allowing me to take photos of her. She was in control. I was her adoring puppy.

"So," she asked quietly, "Do I meet your approval?"

I smiled back at her with lust in my eyes, "I've got about a hundred photos that scream, 'yes'. You've given me a lot to... play with in the future, that's for sure."

She licked her lips.

"You're gonna... play with them?"

I smirked back at her on my way to taking more pictures, "About every chance I get. You're officially my new favorite pornstar."

Her eyes lit up like a woman whose feminine instincts had been ignited.

"Good," she said with a satisfied tone. "Ready for the bottoms?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay... but you need to back up," she said.

I rolled back a bit in my chair, allowing her the space she needed to stand up in front of me.

Right in front of me. She wanted to be close, this time.

Her bellybutton was mere inches in front of my nose. I could see the delicate downy hair on her tanned tummy.

I looked up at her, "Do you lay out? You're always so tanned."

She shrugged, "On the weekends."

"You wear a tan really well."

She smiled down at me with affection.

"You wanna do the honors?"

I noted internally that flattery absolutely goes a long way as I sat up straighter in my chair in answer, now placing her cleavage in front of my face. I swear I could have just fell forward and landed in between those soft pillows. I was so close I could smell her body wash.

I reached up with both hands, softly grazing the back of my index finger across her soft belly and hooked it into between her shorts and her tummy. Grasping the other side, I gently worked the button free, and then slowly unzipped her shorts as far as they would go.

I looked up at her.

"Do I keep going?"

She shrugged down at me, "You're already there."

I took the green light and lowered my hands to the backs of her tanned knees, tickling as I ran them up her thighs to the frayed hem of her shorts, pinching each side with my index and thumb and wiggled then down off her hips, until her black, lacy panties came into view.

Eventually, the shorts had nothing else holding them up, and I let them fall into a pile around her ankles, above her painted toes on her bare feet.

I grabbed my phone and started snapping away at her hips. Her panties appeared fuller from the front, but with lacy edges. I also knew that the front of underwear can be deceiving to what's going on in the back. But for now, I just wanted as many pictures of her glorious hips as I could snap. The elastic from her panties was cutting every so slightly into her flesh, creating the most delicious looking curves and creases.

I noticed the mound of her pussy under her panties. I could detect a tuft of hair underneath the satiny fabric, and unless my eyes deceived me, a growing wet spot where her lips would be.

I leaned back and took more of a full body shot. I wanted to capture as much of this as I could. Those tanned, toned legs now on full display. This milf goddess was now in front of me in her anniversary lingerie that her husband had never seen and I was the one getting to enjoy it.

I wanted to keep these memories forever.

I looked up at her. Her eyes were already locked on mine. She'd been watching me adore her... lust over her... her face was different. Her eyes had a hint of something I couldn't quite place. She'd never looked at me like this before. There was nothing motherly and affectionate about it.

Her breath had quickened, and beneath her bra her nipples had hardened perceptively.

"He is such an idiot," she whispered, with a hint of finality in her voice.

"My thoughts exactly," I said back, running the back of my index finger over her tummy again for no other reason than the fact that I wanted to.

"Turn around. Lean over the back of your chair."

She did as she was told, and my camera was out and snapping away at every moment.

It was a thong, of course, with a thick waistband and a mere black cord that ran down into her plump, mature ass cheeks. It was round, full, a few dimples, a delightful freckle, and a delicious tan line from her bikini bottoms that scrunched up her rear.

The chair squeaked as she climbed up onto it. Her bare feet curled and I saw the beautiful ripple of skin on the soles now placed dangerously close to my own crotch.

I photographed them all the way up her legs... those amazing legs... I leaned back and captured the beauty and raunchiness of her bent over her office chair. She kept her face away from me so I included her head in the photo. Blond, messy pixie cut identifying her for me, but no one else.

"Fuck, you're sexy," I breathed in a husky voice.

She turned her head back to me, looking over her shoulder with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her mouth.

"Can I..." I started.

"Hmmm?" She cooed, slowly wiggling her hips at me.

"Can I take some point-of-view shots?"

"Mmmmm, like what...?" She asked somewhat suspiciously.

"Like," I stood up and squared myself behind her, "Can I put my hand on your hip and grab a photo of that, so I can see my hand on you."

She giggled, "Sure. I suppose so."

"Fuck, this is a dream come true."

I placed my left hand on her left hip and my cock lurched at the feel of her smooth, until-now forbidden skin. I gripped her fleshy hip bone and tried to get the right angle. One that had my hand on her, plus the delicious crevice of her ass and those thighs running away from it.

After grabbing a few shots, I wanted more.

"Now, I know you said no face... but could you just like... turn your head and look back over your shoulder. You can keep most of your face below your shoulder and just show me your eyes and that hair. You were doing it before."

"Like this?" She perfectly posed herself in the most delectable sex kitten fashion.

"Fuck. Can I grab a photo?"

"Mhmmm."

More snaps of my camera, and I started running my hands up and down her back. She didn't complain. Didn't even mention it.

I took a chance and grabbed the waistband of her panties and slowly pulled one side down, which she pulled away at, "Hey... What's this?"

"Oh! Sorry, I was just trying to get another photo."

She climbed off the chair, pushing her ass into my crotch as she did so. Did she mean to? She then turned and sat back down, cross-legged, with her arms on the armrests.

I sat back down myself. My heart was racing. I could feel adrenaline coursing through me but also starting to dissipate.

She smiled at me, "Get everything you wanted?" She nodded toward my phone.

I breathed a laugh, "No."

She looked a bit disappointed as she said, "Oh, come on! You got so much. I mean, admit it. You've never seen me like this before," she said, pulling one of those bare feet up to the seat of her chair, opening her legs as she did so. She rested her elbow on her knee and playfully bit her finger.