Rachel and Dan

Dan fancied Rachel. This was no great shock because every other bloke below pensionable age in his insurance workplace also fancied her. Slim, dark haired with neat blond highlights, blue eyes, flawless skin with eye-catching prominent breasts, Rachel was invariably immaculately dressed with simple understated make up. Her smile could light up a room. But Rachel was more than a colleague. She was Dan's Boss.

Rachel and Dan shared a block of two desks in the corner of the sales office. They flogged specialist insurance to businesses. Dan was relatively fresh out of Uni with a 2:1 degree in a fairly obscure subject that his exasperated father described as "arty-farty." Dan had enjoyed University immensely and was grateful that his folks, despite their misgivings, had supported him financially. It was his finances or rather lack of them which had forced him into the mundane world of J. Cooper Insurance brokers. There wasn't any paid work going in fine art and so Dan needed something to pay the bills. It was purely a stop gap but the months had passed by and he was still there, tapping into his PC and dealing with calls. The work was undemanding and it was so pleasant to have money in his pocket and then there was Rachel....

She'd showed the new boy the basics of the job and then let him tackle the workload without interference. "Dan, you're an intelligent guy. I trust you to just get on with things without me breathing down your neck. I'd rather be your work mate than your Boss." Dan was grateful (though privately he'd rather liked the idea of his female co-worker breathing down his neck).

Working in such proximity, they talked often and long. Dan regularly sought to maximise his knowledge about her favourite colleague.

She had her own smart-sounding apartment with a big garden balcony in the best part of the city and drove a nearly new soft top yellow Mini Cooper. He got the impression that her parents, who lived far away in the countryside, were very well off and had supported their oldest daughter financially. Rachel was good at her job and earned considerably more than Dan but it was hard to see her managing both car and apartment herself. She was 24 (two years older than Dan), the oldest of three sisters. She'd dropped out of University after a year, bored with the course and eager "to earn proper money." Rachel attended an expensive women's own gym twice a week, loved wine, travel and apparently enjoyed her single status to the full. Most of her female friends were married (Dan listened carefully for any hints of wistfulness but failed to detect any). Kids were fine apparently but only when they could be handed back.

She'd been out with lots of different male friends (she always hated the expression "dated" and simply wouldn't use it.) All were friends apparently - no more than that - and were treated as such.

From office gossip, Dan knew she's been out with John from Accounts and Dave in Reception plus at least two of their younger, better looking customers – maybe more. "Just mates - nothing more" she'd reply with her trademark smile when quizzed the following morning. Dan heard that John took her to a club where he thought things went really well. Never a "back to my place" type evening but sufficient to be confident of further get-togethers. But Rachel had merely pecked his cheek at the end of the evening and politely declined further invites. John had later bitched to his workmates about "ice queens."

Dan was both puzzled and intrigued. Her personality was so un-ice queen-like. She was bubbly, warm and inclusive. Was she holding out for Mr Right perhaps? Dan was very much single. His last relationship with Melanie broke up several months earlier after she'd flown back to the States after graduating. . Single too long he'd acknowledge to himself and under duress to close friends.

He'd become a closet expert on Rachel's clothes including to his own secret shame, her underwear. Her work outfits were always classic business black. Black jacket, black trousers or far more often black skirts (at least three different lengths – one of which was a vaguely daring one or two inches above the knee which she wore when customers were in the office. On those days, Dan had to remind himself to look away each time he had a potential glimpse of confirming the slimness and shape of her lower thighs. Almost always black hosiery paired with black high heels or occasionally in the winter tight fitting knee high boots. Her blouses were usually plain white with the outline of a white bra beneath. She had lots of what Dan would call standard lacy bras, simple feminine stuff. One brassiere was pale pink – slightly more visible than the rest under white cotton. Then there was the Wonderbra which did wonderful uplifting things to her already gorgeous bosom. On those days, Dan always consciously maintained strict eye contact when his manager wore her Wonderbra. It almost wasn't fair. Once in an unguarded moment, he only just managed to strangle out a "For Gods Sake" when she strode into the office with breasts uplifted and proud.

He'd caught very occasional glimpses of thongs over the last few months and although he felt like an old perv for doing so, a dark part of his memory grimly retained those images. That dark side insisted this was evidence of Rachel's fun-loving, even sexy side so phrases like "red", "mickey mouse" and "classic sheer black pure Anne Summers" remained stubbornly in place. The latter once stretched teasingly before him following what Americans might call a zip malfunction. He eased his own churned up feelings eventually by quietly tipping her off. Rachel, reddening slightly, made a hasty adjustment and apologised to him. She'd apologised to him... really he felt he ought to apologise to her for being just one mental step away from the dirty raincoat brigade but kept a straight bat with a light "Hey no probs .. somebody's got to sort you out." Forbidden fruit is so delicious. Hundreds of girls on a beach in bikinis were interesting enough but for the right woman they were a poor second to a glimpse of underwear that wasn't supposed to be on public view.

Dan was far from inexperienced. He'd lost his virginity at 15 to an older woman and since then had a respectable number of notches on his bedposts. He'd thought Melanie was the "one", a loud American blonde equally comfortable in and out of clothes who he'd first met when she was a live model at Uni. However, neither was willing to settle permanently in their partners' country and the impasse ultimately pulled them apart.

Dan loved sex, positively revelled in it and the absence of regular intimacy he told him sternly was playing on his mind, hence his interest in Rachel's knickers and bras. He'd tried dating other women, going out a couple of times with his flatmate's sister and a girl who'd chatted him up in his local but they felt second-best somehow. Dan's heart wasn't in it and so his dates considered him withdrawn and a little boring. Still, these limp evenings did make him realise that if Rachel was on his mind, then he ought to chase her.

He suggested a drink after work to her on payday. She politely declined as it was her gym night. He didn't complain or push her just bided his time until his birthday some three weeks later.

"It's your birthday? Oh why didn't you say? I'd love to but as you know my folks are staying with me and I've got tickets for the theatre that night. Shit, I'm sorry.." All accompanied with that smile. Dan put on his best customers happy face but inside conflicting thoughts collided. "See, no chance at all... Out of your League" and "Ice Queen" were shouting while "keep going, don't give up" was under siege.

After that setback, Dan did become disheartened and Rachel's latest black skirt variant, this one with a side slit further darkened his mood. But fate intervened, in the form of a bad day. The classic Bad Day when everything he tried just fell apart. He lost a big account and made an embarrassing mistake with two others. Rachel spotted his gloom and his mistakes. She could have chewed him out but sympathetically

asked if he wanted to go for a drink after work to talk things over. Dan's mood lifted instantly.

In the bar, Rachel was both understanding and soothing. She understood all about bad days – she had them herself and candidly admitted that the only difference was that she was more experienced in covering them up. Dan found himself opening up to her about his life, his past loves and his thwarted career. It was only after they'd parted for their separate homes that he realised just how little Rachel had said about herself. She'd made it clear again that she didn't date colleagues as such but would go out as a friend. Emboldened, Dan had suggested that they should go together to the forthcoming Arctic Monkeys gig but Rachel had gently turned him down again. A couple of hours in her exclusive company had somehow made the knockback less painful. It was later when realisation seeped in. Three offers turned down ... doesn't date workmates ...time to take a hint, Dan.

Then came the Christmas do.

This was the usual overpriced meal followed by drinks in a local pub restaurant. An early evening affair so most people took the opportunity to go home and get changed. The team mingled freely. One of the manager was monopolising Rachel (tight short white top showing off her bare flat navel and snug fitting black trousers stop looking damn it). Dan flirted with one of the girls from Accounts. Somehow the fact that she had a boyfriend made them both keener to push the boundaries as they continued to up the stakes. Debbie had promised to join her boyfriend at his Christmas drinking session so when she reluctantly got up to leave, Dan "saw her to the door." Once outside, she willingly agreed to a Christmas kiss. It was full on, his tongue slipping into her warm mouth, his arms tightly around her. Emboldened further, his hands slid down her back and fondled the cheeks of her bottom. She immediately started to pull away, paused as if trying to make a decision and then struggled out of his embrace. "Hey, down boy. " She smiled regretfully. "Oh Dan, why didn't we meet sooner? If it wasn't for Graham, I'd... you know.." She pointedly looked down. "You're a nice guy and I don't like to leave you in that state.... sorry." She kissed him on the cheek and briefly her hand closed round the bulge in his trousers. "Sorry Dan". Another rueful grin and she turned on her heel and strode off.

Dan told himself that he'd got further with Debbie than he imagined yet that seemed precious little consolation for his aching groin. Reluctantly, he went back into the pub. To his surprise, the pub was emptying rapidly. Rachel was still there and strode quickly towards him.

"Dan put your arms around me ... quick." Dan was happy to oblige, if a little bewildered by the change in tempo.

She whispered into his ear. "Sorry about this, I'm sick of old Jones coming onto me and I need him to get the hint. Thanks for coming to my rescue...."

Dan was surprised but pleased, overcoming his shock by squeezing her a little tighter. Rachel smelt of several glasses of wine but still seemed in control. Her ripe breasts were squeezed between them.

"But .. Dan, you don't have to be quite that pleased to see me..."

Unsure whether she was teasing or not, Dan moved back slightly but determinedly kept his fingers around her waist.

Rachel laughed and pushed up against him once more. "Hey, I'm teasing... and I wouldn't flatter myself. That's Debbie's doing isn't it? "

Dan had to agree.

"I can see why blokes like her but ....she's such a tease. It's not fair if she's already got a boyfriend to get you all worked up. Good guy like you." To Dan's surprise, she kissed him full on the lips but pulled away before he could respond. "There ...my Christmas gift. Hope you don't mind the Boss kissing you. Oh hell, I'm teasing you now." She pulled away from him and looked round.

"Jones has got the message, thank God. Bloody creep. He's gone. Looks like everybody is going home now. Bunch of lightweights. Look at 'em .. No life in any of them. It's too early to go home... Dan would you come clubbing with me?"

"Ummm, yeah..." Dan, once again wrong footed, stumbled to get the words out.

"Don't get too enthusiastic.."

"Sorry. You've got me on the back foot yet again. Love to." A pause. A quick breath for courage. "On one condition."

"What's that?"

"That I get a proper Christmas kiss..."

Raising her eyebrows, Rachel replied mock archly "Oh, Dan Keogh..." And then more quietly, "Yes Ok but outside huh? The jungle drums have enough material already..."

They pushed their way outside the pub again and still buzzing after his encounter with Debbie, Dan reached out confidently for Rachel. His Boss kept her feet planted and leaned forward from her waist. Her lips were warm and slightly moist. Dan wanted more but once again she was too quick for him, bobbing back quick.

"There you go... as promised and I hope you don't mind if I keep my distance from that pole of yours. It's dangerous. "

Colouring slightly, Dan could only offer "Is it that obvious?"

"Sure is. "

"It's magnetic"

Rachel laughed, loudly. "Great line, love it. Lets walk. The Rialto is only three blocks from here. Take your mind off it."

They headed towards the night club. Within a few hundred yards, Rachel took Dan's arm, blaming the height of her stilettos for her need for support. They talked, mainly a mutual character assassination of Debbie. They were just agreeing about her bad breath when Rachel slipped. When he looked back on the moment later, Dan was proud of his prompt reaction. Instantly planting his feet wide apart, he seized her arm to stop Rachel from tumbling. Once she was stabilised, he put his arm around her waist. His fingers just seemed to belong there.

"Oh thanks Dan... I thought I was going over then. It's these shoes..." Then her tone changed and her hand pushed down on Dan's around her waist. "Dan I'm OK now.."

"Are you really? You might go again.....Remember those cobbles in Eastgate?"

Rachel thought for a moment and then relaxed. "You're right." She even nestled into his shoulder a little more. A grin. "Maybe I could get used to this."

"Me too."

"Don't get too used to it." Inwardly, Dan sighed. One step forward, one step back. He resolved to just enjoy the moment. Her warmth and her perfume were intoxicating. They'd both drunk too much for heavy discussions and tomorrow is a working day. One thing was certain – he'd need to excuse himself early in the Club to ease his discomfort in the Gents. Snogging Debbie and now kisses and cuddles with Rachel were just too much for comfortably fitting trousers.

Crossing the cobbles in Eastgate Street was the perfect opportunity for Dan to grip Rachel more tightly around her waist but also by half-turning to take her left hand in his. She didn't object to his advice to be careful and grip his hand. Dan fancied he could feel a hard nipple against the side of his arm. He didn't let go of her on the other side of the old fashioned street, waiting for a reaction. They stared at each other for what seemed ages but what was really only a few seconds before Rachel decisively slipped out of his grip with an expression he couldn't read. Somehow the night felt colder.

She urged him forward. "C'mon Dan, Rialto is just around the corner." Side by side, they rounded the corner and joined the tail end of a queue. They shuffled forward occasionally. Dan hated queues and his mood quickly darkened.

"How are we gonna get in?" he moaned at his companion.

"There's always a way" responded Rachel, smiling broadly.

"You reckon? Look at those bouncers. Strutting round like they own the place, picking and choosing who gets in."

"I'll sort it... you're moaning like bloody Jones now. Leave it to me."

Ignoring the queue, Rachel approached the two bouncers. Wary of queue jumping, Dan bobbed up on his toes to see his manager in earnest conversation with one of the two large suited doormen. He saw one doorman smile broadly and beckon Rachel around a corner. What? Her curiosity overcame his British manners and he moved nearer, ignoring mumblings and a shout of protest from those in front of him. He just had to know. Was she bribing him? He didn't want to go inside THAT badly. Maybe he ought to intervene and pull her away. He hastened past the entrance and peered around the corner and gulped. Rachel was offering a bribe – her body. Her short white jacket was raised high to her shoulders. And her white top too. With no bra to be seen over her smooth cream flesh, she was flashing her bare boobs at the doorman.

"Hey" he protested weakly. It was all that would come out. Hard to be erudite when simultaneously shocked, guilty and somehow turned on at the same time. It wasn't the appropriate feeling but Dan couldn't help feeling a new mighty bulge in his trousers.

Rachel turned, tugging her clothes down at the same time. Even in the dim light, Dan fancied that the doorman was more embarrassed than she was. "Alright Dan.. I've sorted us out getting in... haven't I Jim...?" The security man, fearing a scene was quick to agree. "Y...y.y.y yes. Follow me." He bolted in the direction of the entrance. Rachel grabbed Dan's arm and followed suit. Dan went with the flow, his head whirling. Jim led them straight into the VIP area and with a sheepish grin made himself scarce.

"Rachel!"

"We're in, aren't we? We'll talk later. I need to go to the Ladies to make some adjustments. Stay here." Rachel shouted above the music. Dan felt the need to clear his head. He splashed water over his face in the Gents and then unashamedly bolted himself in a cubicle. It was hastily down with trousers and pants and hands on his throbbing organ. He needed a bare half dozen strokes before reaching for some toilet tissue to absorb his climax. Oh the relief! Dan bizarrely clung to the toilet roll holder for a few seconds until the waves passed. Feeling several pounds lighter and more coherent, Dan went in search of more drinks.

He badly needed to know more about Rachel's flashing. It was a whole new side of her, one which didn't compute with the woman he thought he knew. His heady mixture of guilt and lust remained unsated because a full-on night club was not conducive to significant discussions. Dan tried but Rachel either couldn't or wouldn't respond to his questioning. "Can't hear you!".... "Sorry?" "What do you say?" He gave up trying and instead was willingly led onto the dance floor.

There were too many dancers for Dan to remain close to Rachel. Other people regularly careered into them, thwarting his ambition to seek the warmth of her body. After one wild reveller almost knocked Rachel off her feet, it was time to give up. Tomorrow or to be more accurate today was a working day and J. Cooper expected efforts to be made. He held his arm in the air and tapped his watch face meaningfully. Rachel pulled a face before reluctantly nodding. Dan led the way, pushing through the madding crowd.

The cold night air hit them both. Dan felt his sap rising and gathered Rachel in his arms before she could protest. She looked surprised for his first kiss and responded only limply to his second effort. He backed off.

"Rach ... alright?"

"Yeah, yeah just a little too much wine ... I'll be OK in a minute..."

Dan steered her towards the line of waiting black cabs, eased her onto the back seat. He gave the driver her address, a large banknote and an exhortation to "get her safe to her door, mate." With a plea to Rachel to "text me when you get in", the taxi pulled away and Dan headed home on foot. His small shared flat was the opposite direction to Rachel's pad. Anyway walking would clear his head and help him sleep.