Very Casual Fridays

Despite the physical attraction Julia felt, Amy had a remarkable ability to put her at ease. It wasn't long before the two of them were laughing at each other's stories and sharing small confidences. In such a relaxed state, Julia found herself reverting to some old habits. For instance, she soon planted her stockinged feet up on her desk and stretched out her long, beautiful legs. This was not to impress Amy, not even to tease Michael. It just felt comfortable, and allowed her to recline a little more in her office chair. To her surprise, Amy soon kicked off her own shoes and placed her feet on the desk too. Her pedicure was flawless and her legs were bare and smooth and shapely and muscular, and Julia immediately wished she could feel them wrapping around her waist.

If Julia was staring at Amy's legs, Amy didn't seem to notice. At that moment she was spying on Michael, who, in turn, was doing a very bad job at hiding his efforts to ogle Julia. Amy suppressed a laugh, quickly turning her attention back to Julia with a devilish idea in her mind. She rose, and moved her chair around so it was next to Julia's, and again placed her feet on the desk. She took a moment quietly, deliberately comparing her legs to Julia's.

"I'm so jealous, Julia," she cried. "Your legs are just sensational. I'd kill for legs as long and elegant as yours."

Julia was initially a little surprised by this remark. Thrilled, but surprised. However, she quickly understood what was going on when Amy continued.

"Don't you think she has gorgeous legs, Michael?" And here she shot a conspiratorial wink in Julia's direction. "I mean, they just go on forever."

There was no answer from Michael, who had obviously decided that discretion was the better part of valor. They could hear the unmistakable sounds of Michael fumbling with things on his desk in an effort to appear busy.

Amy wasn't finished with him.

"Seriously, these legs are just perfect. I mean, I think I have quite nice legs, in a muscular kind of way." Here Julia nodded appreciatively, and made some affirming comments. "But Julia's are certainly the most sensuous, magnificent legs I've ever seen. The elegant, graceful legs of a dancer. I bet you're a wonderful, sensual dancer, Julia."

By this stage, Julia was blushing furiously, while also trying hard to contain her laughter at the thought of Michael squirming at his desk.

"My husband won't believe me when I tell him how gorgeous these legs are." Amy was merciless. "Michael would you do me an enormous favor? Would you come over here and take a picture of us, so I can show my husband? Please?"

There was a long pause before Michael replied with a little shakiness in his voice.

"I'm really kind of busy here, Amy."

"Oh, Michael, it will only take a moment or two. Please? I'd be really grateful."

Eventually Michael dragged himself from his desk and appeared in front of them. His face was red, and he tried desperately not to look at either woman's legs, or to make eye contact. He quickly took out his phone and hurriedly snapped a picture.

Before he could turn and leave, Amy spoke up again.

"Actually, Michael, would you take the picture with my phone?"

She held the phone out for him, and waited for him to come and take it from her.

"And if you could take the picture from just over there. I think that's a good angle. Don't you Julia?"

Michael snapped the picture, but before he could scurry away, Julia piped up.

"Actually, Michael, I think you should take another one from over there. The perspective of the first picture will emphasize the difference in leg length, which isn't really fair to how fabulous Amy's legs are."

"You really think my legs are fabulous?" asked Amy

"Of course I do. And I'm sure Michael does, too. Michael, don't you think Amy has extremely sexy legs?"

Michael looked uncomfortable. He muttered something noncommittal and hurriedly took the second picture. He returned the phone, but was stopped again before he could run away to hide.

"Michael, I'm sorry," said Amy, "But I'm a little worried about the angle on the last picture. Can you stand over there again and just make sure that you can't see up my dress?"

"Or my skirt," added Julia.

"I'd hate to show my husband, only to find that one of us is flashing her underwear."

Absolutely burning with embarrassment, Michael returned to the spot and carefully studied the view of both women's legs. Each of them took this opportunity to shift her hips gently, suggestively, delighting in Michael's discomfort. Eventually he proclaimed the angle completely safe, and was then permitted to return to his desk.

Neither woman bothered to hide her laughter, but Julia did take the chance to admire Amy's legs for another moment before Amy rose to refresh their drinks.

The two women chatted for a while longer, about nothing in particular. Julia recognized in Amy the same cruel fascination she had in teasing Michael, but sensed the older woman was inclined to be even bolder. She had a self-assurance, a confidence that Julia was drawn to, but that confidence was manifest without a hint of arrogance or pretension. In fact, she spent a surprising amount of energy expressing her appreciation of the efforts and abilities of those around her. It wasn't just Julia's legs that received praise: Amy confided her admiration for Miriam, described Miriam's own appreciation for Julia's skills as an analyst, and even took the time to extol the ingenuity of the software Michael had designed. She literally had a good word to say about everyone. Julia felt that, unless you were on the receiving end of her merciless teasing, it would be nearly impossible not to be drawn to this beautiful and charming woman.

At one stage, Julia glanced at the brown shopping bag Amy had brought with her. "Do you have any other goodies in there?" she inquired.

Amy's response was an impish grin.

"I probably shouldn't mention this," she said in a stage whisper, throwing a mischievous glance over her shoulder towards Michael's desk. "But, there is something else in there. I passed by that new lingerie place this morning, and for some reason thought it might be fun to try something new."

"What do you mean?" asked Julia.

"Well, my husband has always loved it when I wear a thong for him. But, I thought it might be fun to change it up a little. So I bought myself a pair of those cheeky little boy shorts."

"Oh, very nice," Julia enthused.

"Well, I'll take them home and model them for him. I just hope he approves."

Julia was confused. "Why wouldn't he approve?"

"Well," Amy hesitated for a moment, "It's always so hard to know what a man will like."

This gave Julia an idea.

"Michael, you're a man. Maybe you can help us out. When it comes to panties, what do you like?"

Silence.

"Michael?"

"Yes?" He was very slow to respond.

"Underwear," Julia announced. "What do you like."

"Uhhmm...boxer-briefs."

It was Amy's turn to chime in. "I'm sure boxer-briefs are very nice, dear. But nobody is very interested in men's underwear. We want to know what you like when it comes to a lady's panties."

There was another lengthy pause before Michael answered.

"Well, I never wear ladies panties."

Julia turned to Amy. "Do you think he's being funny?"

"I don't know," Amy replied. "But he's being distinctly unhelpful! Michael, dear, we're interested in what panties you like to see a woman wearing."

Perhaps Michael was getting tired of the teasing. Or perhaps he was becoming more comfortable in the situation. Whatever the case, his answer was bold.

"Why do you assume that I prefer to see a woman wearing any panties at all?"

Neither woman wanted to give him credit for his daring response.

"Michael, please try to be helpful. We all know that the endgame involves removal of the panties. But when it comes to the gentle art of seduction, racing directly to the climax ruins most of the fun. So please," and here Amy turned around to look Michael directly in the eye rather than speaking over her shoulder in his general direction, "Please give us the benefit of your male insight. Would you prefer to be seduced by a woman wearing a tiny thong? Or a woman wearing a cheeky little pair of lacy boy shorts? It's really very important."

Facing Amy's direct assault, Michael's brave resistance crumbled. His face turned crimson, he shrugged and shook his head. He waved his hands around, and found himself completely unable to utter anything intelligible other than, "I don't know."

Julia could smell blood, and sprang on this opportunity. She leapt from her seat, grabbed Amy by the hand and pulled her to her feet.

"I think poor Michael might be unsure of the difference between the two. So, I shall try to explain, if you will be my beautiful assistant."

Amy grinned in agreement, and Julia spun her around so that Michael was looking at her ass.

"The key thing to understand about the thong is that it shows no panty line. It accomplishes this by ensuring that there is no fabric stretched across the buttocks." Julia took this opportunity to let her hand gently pass across each of Amy's buttocks to ensure Michael knew exactly what she was referring to. "The thong has a waistband," she slid her hands around Amy's waist, "And a thin piece of fabric that settles itself neatly between the buttocks." At this point she let the middle finger of her left hand firmly trace the path between Amy's cheeks. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Amy respond with an approving sigh.

"On the other hand," she continued, "Boy shorts work much more like a pair of shorts."

"Very, very short shorts," added Amy.

"They wrap around the woman's hips, like so..." Julia stood in front of Amy and wrapped her hands around her ass, showing Michael how the fabric would lie. "The really cute ones leave the bottom half of each buttock completely exposed, and the top part covered with delicate, lacy fabric." She used her fingers to emphasize the lines of demarkation on Amy's ass, pressing them into her flesh to simulate the gentle pressure that would be applied by the lingerie.

"An excellent explanation, Julia," Amy lauded, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Julia's hands were still on her ass. "Does that help at all, Michael?"

But Michael buried his face in his hands, mumbled something that nobody could understand, and then excused himself to use the bathroom.

While he was away, Amy thanked Julia for a fun afternoon, gave her a quick peck on the cheek and a saucy wink, and took her leave. Julia decided that tormenting Michael all by herself wouldn't be nearly as much fun, so she packed up and headed home for the weekend too.

Throughout the following week, Julia received particularly frosty treatment from Michael. He was never explicitly antagonistic, but made it pretty clear that he had not enjoyed the taunts she and Amy had thrown in his direction. Consequently, once Miriam left the office the next Friday, Julia felt it best to remain on her best behavior. She left her shoes on and her shirt neatly tucked in. She sat upright at her desk. She worked silently and demurely and caused Michael absolutely no discomfort whatsoever.

All the time, however, Julia's heart was pounding like a bass drum. She'd spent most evenings over the past week fantasizing about Amy, and was now extremely anxious to find out if she would drop by for another drink. In preparation, Julia had washed the glasses and polished them until they gleamed, bought a new bottle of vodka, replenished the tonic, sliced limes into quarters and filled a little ice bucket. She'd also selected her absolute favorite underwear and had worn an especially beguiling fragrance. As the clock left 4:15 behind, however, she was starting to lose hope.

In contrast, Michael appeared to be relaxing more as each minute passed. Julia heard him humming a show tune as he worked away on his keyboard.

The atmosphere changed the instant they heard a knock on the locked office door. Julia launched herself from her chair and practically skipped to the entryway, while Michael stopped his humming and looked around for somewhere to hide. When Julia threw open the door, Amy darted in, loaded down with an enormous bouquet of flowers.

Amy offered Julia a quick, warm smile as she hurried past her, making directly towards Michael's desk.

"Michael," Amy's voice was calm, controlled and contrite, "I brought you these flowers as an apology for the terrible way I treated you last week. I hope you can forgive me."

Michael looked up in confusion. This was certainly not what he had been expecting. He eyed Amy, and decided that she looked sincere. He perused the flowers and decided they looked spectacular. Given that Amy was such an important client, he felt duty bound to accept her apology. He took the flowers from her with a quiet but heartfelt word of thanks, and headed immediately to the kitchenette to search for a vase.

Once his back was turned, Amy swiveled to face Julia. Leaning close, she stretched to kiss Julia's cheek, and her lips lingered a little longer than they should have. She actually seemed to be blushing when she finally straightened up. Neither woman said a word, but Amy winked and offered an encouraging smile.

As Julia busied herself fixing some drinks, Amy addressed Michael once again. "In the spirit of making peace, I hope you'll join us for a drink this time."

Michael shot her a suspicious glance. But Amy appeared so earnest at that moment, he immediately regretted his cynicism.

"You know, I'm really not much of a drinker," Michael confessed.

"Then I'll make sure that Julia mixes you a weak one," Amy assured him. "And if you feel too lightheaded to drive home at the end of the day, I'll drive you there myself."

Michael realized he couldn't wriggle out of it. A few moments later all three were seated around Julia's desk, sipping cocktails.

Amy took a few moments to fill Michael in regarding her experiences with his new software. This was not even vaguely interesting to Julia, so she chose to tune it out, preferring to concentrate on something that was interesting -- the beautiful woman across the desk from her. As usual, Amy wore a form-fitting, sleeveless dress: it might have been black with wide, white stripes, or white with wide, black stripes, depending on one's perspective. In either case, the dress offered a dramatic complement to her form, as the stripes abandoned their natural, vertical course and accentuated the bountiful curves of Amy's body. The hem of the dress fell about four inches above her knees, and afforded Julia a slightly more generous view of her strong, tanned thighs than last week. The neckline, however, was frustratingly high, rising up above shoulder level in a rigid, choker-like collar. The dress was elegant, but Julia found herself longing to peel it away, like she might peel the skin from a banana. The shoes were gorgeous: open toed, with a moderate heel. Her hair, skin, nails were immaculate. She looked like a million bucks, and Julia began to wonder if she wasn't way out of her league.

All the while, Michael was starting to feel a little more comfortable. He was no more immune to Amy's easy charm than Julia was, and he was soon joking and laughing with the beautiful client. In fact, Amy's charm was working so effectively on Michael that Julia began to feel a little jealous.

Ducking into the bathroom, Julia took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror. She decided that neither jealousy nor insecurity suited her. Vengeful, vindictive ideas started to pop into her mind, measures to remove Michael from the scene so that Julia would not have to share Amy's attention. But she rejected these notions as petty and unbecoming. And rather than entertain the notion that she was destined to lose Amy's affection, she resolved to uncover a more positive frame of mind. Alas, all of the self-analysis this entailed was impossible to complete in the time it takes for a conventional bathroom visit, so, rather than attract undue attention, she decided to speed the process along by employing a meditative technique she often found useful. Closing her eyes, she emptied her mind of everything other than that magical night in the New Mexico desert. She focused on the feeling of being the fixed point around which the entirety of creation revolves. She recalled the couch, the reading room, the desert, the universe twisting and writhing and unraveling around her. She recalled her lover, with her gentle hands and supple limbs wrapped around her, flowing out of her, spiraling endlessly to the edge of the universe. Julia knew what it was to be the center of creation, connected to everything, integral to everything, yet no more and no less important than any other thing. And it gave her a sense of belonging and a sense of peace. It gave her strength simply to be, and to deny the compulsion to control the situation she faced.

When she opened her eyes again and glanced in the mirror, Julia immediately noted the change. Tension had drained out of her body, and her eyes beamed with confidence. She let down her lustrous, auburn hair, unfastened one, no, two buttons on her shirt and repositioned her bra a little to make sure everyone could appreciate her cleavage. She turned around, smoothed her skirt over her ass, and spent a moment appreciating just how fine it looked in the mirror. She had to admit, she looked good enough to be the center of everyone's universe!

Emerging from the bathroom, Julia found Amy standing close to Michael. She had discarded her shoes, and had perched her ass on the edge of the desk. She loomed above Michael, leaning towards him, clearly engaging him in a conversation that made him uncomfortable. He shrank away from her, as far back in his seat as possible, and nervously clutched his drink. Julia couldn't hear what was being said, since someone had turned the music on.

Julia was interested to know what was happening, but her jealousy wasn't aroused. She still felt like the center of the universe, and knew that she would be part of anything that might unfold between Amy and Michael. She cleared her throat discretely to announce her arrival.

"Finally, you've returned to us," chirped Amy. As she turned around to greet Julia, she threw her arms open wide to offer an embrace. Michael said nothing. But his jaw hung open and he made no effort to hide his bug eyes as he watched her approach. There was a languid grace to her movements, a sensual swing of her hips. Michael obviously approved. Amy didn't immediately display her approval, but as Julia was engulfed in her powerful arms, she had the distinct impression that Amy inhaled deeply, reveling in Julia's scent.

Amy soon released her from the hug, but kept hold of her hand. Then she pouted.

"Michael has refused to dance with me. Can you believe that? And I really want to dance. Will you dance with me Julia?"

Julia chose not to reply. Instead, she kicked off her shoes, calmly took the drink out of Amy's hand and deposited it on the desk, then guided her away from the furniture to where they could move.

The music was sweet and soulful, and each woman soon surrendered her body to the groove. Initially, they continued to hold each other's hand, but eventually drifted further apart so they could admire each other's movements. They sang the lyrics they knew. They smiled constantly. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, they began to move closer together again. Michael watched them keenly, barely daring to breathe, still cowering in the corner of his seat and clutching his drink close to his body.

After a couple of tunes, the two women had closed on each other almost completely. Their hips and heads swayed, and their arms traced beautiful patterns in the air, and each let her eyes roam insatiably over the other's body. Though they came closer and closer, they did not touch. They circled each other, wrapped themselves around each other, each allowing her body to frame the other like a flawless kinetic work of art.