What Katy Did

She sat back in her seat and gazed idly at the pedestrians as we cruised along the street. While her physical beauty filled me with longing for her, it also stirred something that ran far deeper, something that had been hidden for far too long. I wanted more than just a carnal meeting of bodies, however exciting that could be. I wanted what I had with Miriam before everything went wrong.

"Jack..." she said.

What I saw her doing when I turned to look at her dragged me out of my thoughts about a better life. She was slowly rubbing her left thigh from her knee to the edge of her dress.

I tried not to stare. "Yes?"

She slid forward on the seat, raised her legs, and perched her bare feet on the dashboard. "We've established that you like my boobs, but what about my legs?"

Her slouching and leg-raising had dragged her dress so far up that I could now see most of her right ass cheek. Not only that, but I now knew she was wearing purple thong panties, since I could see them. The same bright shade of purple as her dress, they were tiny, just a small triangle at the front that started above her pubic hair and tapered into a narrow strip that disappeared between her upraised legs. The ache in my cock became painful and my heart raced as tantalising visions of what she was almost revealing ran riot in my head.

"They're good legs, great in fact," I said, struggling to breathe normally, "they'll get you from A to B just fine."

"You're not looking at them the way you normally do." She scratched what I assumed was an imaginary itch on the lower part of the ass cheek closest to me. "Look at them properly and tell me what you think."

"You have beautiful legs, you know you do," I said, forcing my attention onto the left-turn indicator flashing on the car in front of me.

"Yeah, I guess." She rubbed the entire length of the outside of her thigh in a slow caressing motion. "Still, it's nice to get a compliment every now and then."

"You're a beautiful girl, Katy, you know that."

She stopped stroking herself, reached over, and squeezed the middle of my left leg. "Your legs aren't too bad either, you know." She moved her hand up my leg. "You should wear shorts more often and show them off."

I lifted her hand off my leg and dropped it beside her before she moved her hand higher and realised how hard I was. "Please, Katy, you're distracting me."

"Oh, sorry," she said, and turned and looked out of the window.

Instead of pulling her dress down and sitting more modestly so that I could focus more of my attention on my driving, she did something that distracted me even more. She lowered the leg closest to me back onto the floor and left her other one high on the dashboard, so that her legs were wide apart and I could see more her panties. When I looked, I could make out the faint contours of her pussy lips through the gossamer material. In the confusion of my growing lust for her, I couldn't work out if her intimate display was deliberate or not. Maybe she didn't realise how much she was revealing, maybe she did. If she was unaware of how much I could see, then I should play the gentleman and point it out so that she could cover herself up. If she knew what she was revealing, then she was playing some kind of game with me and I should talk to her about it before she exposed even more of herself and things got out of hand. Either way, the sight of her pussy mound covered by so flimsy was so enticing that I kept quiet.

She dropped the leg that was high up on the dashboard down beside her other one and swung them away from me so that her left knee was touching the passenger door. Although I couldn't see between her legs anymore, her dress was still bunched up high enough for me to see the thin ribbon of her panties where it went low around her hip. The possibility that she might fidget around in her seat again and give me another glimpse of her pussy kept threatening to play havoc with my driving. It was agonising being next to her. She had such an easy sensuality about her, a comfort with her body which she seemed to know how to use to devastating effect. I suppose it was inevitable, and I felt guilty about it, but I wanted to do more than just look at her, I wanted to touch her.

She started fiddling with the catch on her zipper. Oh shit, I thought, what now? I looked at her more than the street as she continued fiddling with her zipper for a bit, then pulled it down a few catches. My cock tried hard to break out of my shorts as she slipped a couple of fingers under her dress and scratched her left breast close to her nipple. What with my desire to do the right thing fighting with my urge to explore her tantalising young flesh, this was turning out to be a long and painful journey

I had a vague idea what she was doing. I'm not sure, but I think she likes being a tease. That, or she simply wants to look pretty and be admired without any thought about the effect she might be having on the men who see her. It all started shortly after her eighteenth birthday, when she started wearing the kind of clothes that show off her delicious body to hypnotic effect, her new purple dress being the latest and most striking example. Not only that, but she's taken to doing things that I suspect are designed to get attention. Lately, when I've been making my frequent visits to her parent's house, she's been parading around in tight shorts and an even tighter top, generally without a bra. When she does that, it takes a huge effort on my part not to stare at the way her top stretches across her breasts and makes her nipples stand out. Every time she moves, which is a lot given how energetic she is, her tits jiggle around in maddening ways. At other times she wanders around in a tiny skirt that barely covers her ass and does provocative things. For instance, she bends a little too far forward on some pretext or other so I can see more of her cleavage; or she 'accidentally' flashes her panties when she sits down and crosses her legs. I'm still entirely not sure whether she does it on purpose or not, but either way it fills my head with all sorts of improper thoughts about her.

"Ow!"

I glanced at her and saw she was massaging the upper part of her right thigh. "What now?"

"I've got cramp."

I tried to ignore the way her fingers were making little indentations in her flawless skin, as well as my urge to reach over and do it for her. How lovely, how silky soft and warm her skin would feel under my exploring hands. Every cell in my body ached to squeeze her exquisite thigh, but if I gave in to her request and massaged her, I'd be doing it for all the wrong reasons. I felt my already tenuous hold on my lascivious impulses slipping further away, and along with it any hopes I had of being a responsible adult whose only concern was for her wellbeing, not what it would feel like to explore her fabulous body.

She continued kneading her leg, apparently trying to relax the underlying muscles that gave her legs such a breathtaking shape. "Damn it!" she said, "it's not working. Can you stop the car and massage it for me?"

I thought of parking by the street in the next available space and doing what she asked, even though I was almost certain where it would lead. Fortunately, sanity prevailed before I did something stupid.

"Can you manage until we get home? We're almost there."

"Please," she said, shifting her leg around as if trying to ease her cramp and giving me glimpses between her legs, "can you rub it for me? It really hurts."

The fast-disappearing sensible voice in my head was telling me that she was only exploring her sexual power by playing with me, that she was only showing off her body and asking me to massage her in order to see what effect it would have on me. My other voice, the crazy one, was begging me to go ahead and do what she was asking as a possible prelude to doing a lot more. It was so loud and insistent that I gave in and decided to do what she asked. But I couldn't park the car just anywhere, however. The thought that anyone who happened to be passing could look in and see a middle-age man with lust in his eyes caressing the leg of a nineteen year-old girl in a very sexy dress was just too freaky to contemplate.

My head was in such a turmoil that it took me a few seconds to work out where we could go so that I could work on her leg in private. We were very close to the office where I work, and it wasn't much of a detour to get there. It has a very secluded car park at the back that is surrounded by tall office buildings that would be empty except for the cleaning staff. No one would be able to see us, so it seemed perfect. I turned the car around and made my way there.

When we arrived, I leaned my hand out of the window, waved my plastic key card in front of the digital lock beside the gate, and watched it swing open. I drove in and parked the car, turned off the ignition, and unbuckled my seat belt.

"How is it now? Still hurting?" I asked, taking in every curve of her tantalising young body as she unfastened her belt.

"Yes." She started pressing her fingers into her thigh again. "Can you give it a shot? Your hands are stronger than mine."

I'd been longing to get my hands on her for what seemed like ages, and now I was about to get my chance, even if it was just her leg. If massaging one of her long and sensuous limbs to relieve her cramp was all I did, then maybe, just maybe, it would be enough to take the edge off what was rapidly turning into an urge to fuck her. At least I'd know what it would feel like to touch and stroke the smooth and supple skin of her thigh, and it might, if I dedicated enough of myself to the task without letting my hands wander, be enough to reduce my longing for her to something manageable.

Yeah, right. But it's what I told myself as I turned towards her and placed my trembling hands on the middle of her thigh. She opened her legs a little as I began to dig my fingers into her flesh. Her skin was warm and yielding, and it felt infinitely better than I had ever imagined. If her leg felt this good, how would the rest of her feel?

"How's that?" I asked, staring at what I could make out of her pussy lips under her delicate panties.

She looked at my massaging hands, then up at me. "A bit higher."

"How about here?" I asked, moving my hands up her thigh.

"No, higher."

I slid my hands up further, until the edge of my left hand was close to her panties. "How about here?"

She moaned as I pressed my hands against her leg. "Mmm, that's the spot."

As I worked on her leg, an intoxicating feminine fragrance drifted up from her pussy, bypassing the moral part of my brain. I couldn't resist letting the edge of my hand graze her panties. The delicate and moist feel of them against my skin made my cock throb and my balls ache.

"Careful," she said, putting her hands on mine and trying to push them down her leg, "it feels nice, but maybe you shouldn't be quite so intimate."

I reluctantly shifted my hands a short distance from her panties. "Sorry, I didn't realise."

She must have known I was lying, as well as the effect that rubbing her leg so close to her pussy was having on me. Everything she was doing seemed calculated to get me to want her. The sexy dress with it's zipper pulled far enough down to reveal a substantial portion of her breasts; asking me about her tits and legs; slouching in the seat and showing me her panties; and, most tantalising of all, asking me to work on what I still believed was an imaginary cramp on her leg close to where my cock wanted to be. She was teasing me, I was sure of it, but I was still confused about what she was up to and why.

"Are you alright, Jack?" she said, opening her eyes and looking at me. "You're breathing funny."

I guess I was so caught up in caressing her leg and staring at her panties and trying to figure out what game she was playing that I hadn't realised that my breathing had become short and erratic.

"I'm, um, fine Katy, just fine," I said. It took a massive effort to take hands off her, but I managed it. I sat back and rested them on top of my pulsing cock. "How's the cramp now?"

"It still hurts." She rubbed the inside of her thigh close to her pussy. "Can you try again?"

There was no way I was going to put my hands on any part of her body again. I was scared that if I did, I'd be all over her. The idea of getting her naked and running my hands all over her gorgeous flesh was driving me insane.

"No, I'd better not. Maybe you should get out of the car and walk it off."

"Good idea," she said, and jumped out of the car.

While I watched her tug her dress down and walk away from me across the deserted car park, her hips swaying with every step, I took the opportunity to shift my cock into a more comfortable position. It was aching so badly that a thought occurred to me that, mad as it was, made a weird kind of sense. Maybe I could take it out and relieve myself while she was far enough away during her cramp-easing walk. I still wasn't sure what game she was playing, or if indeed she playing one at all, but I was so excited that I knew it wouldn't take too many strokes to blow my load. Even though it would have gone a long way toward easing my torment, it was a ridiculous thought, a crazy one. Apart from the haste with which I'd have to do it, I had no idea how I would explain the mess when she returned. But I had to do something to ease my longing, so I put my right hand down my shorts, wrapped it around the shaft of my dick and began stroking...

"It's all better now," I heard her shout, "the cramp's gone."

I yanked my hand out of my shorts as she came running toward me, her tits bouncing wildly. When she got to the car, she came over to my side, bent down, and looked at me through the window and smiled.

"That was a great idea of yours."

"That's good," I said. I could see the upper slopes of her breasts almost down to her nipples. "Jump in and we'll get going."

"Since we're here, can you show me where you work? I'd love to see it."

The best thing would have been to say no, but I didn't. I knew that the more time I spent alone with her, the more likely it was that I'd do something I was sure I'd regret. But she was too beautiful to resist, and my hunger for her was so overwhelming that I did the stupid thing instead.

"Okay," I said, opening the car door, "but we can't stay long."

When I got out of the car and stood in front of her, she glanced down at my crotch before turning toward the car park gates. I wasn't sure, but I think a faint smile crossed her lips. Or maybe it was a smirk. Whatever it was, her reaction to the obvious bulge in my shorts was the best clue yet that she was playing with me. What I still couldn't work out was why.

We turned and walked out of the car park toward the door at the back of the office building where I earn my living. As we walked, she linked her arm in mine and bumped her hip against me. Even that small contact, as slight and seemingly innocuous as it was, sent fresh blood into my raging cock and made my heart pound and my body tremble.

"Are you alright, Jack? You seem a bit on edge."

I lied. What else could I do? "It's nothing. I guess all the hard work I've been putting in at the office lately has caught up with me."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Short of telling me exactly what she was up to, no. I quickened my step. "No, I'll be fine. I just need a good night's sleep, that's all."

When we arrived at the door into the building, I used my key card again and listened to the lock disengage with a loud click. I turned the handle, pushed the door open, and walked in. Acting like a gentleman but not feeling remotely like one, I stood to one side and held the door open to let her enter. She looked up at me and smiled as she passed by and began walking along the short corridor leading to the lift. I followed along behind her, staring at the long elegant curves of her back, her slim waist, and her round ass barely covered by her tight dress.

When we arrived at the lift, I pressed the button beside the doors. They slid apart with a soft swish and she walked into the softly lit interior. I followed her in and used my key card again to activate the lift to take us to the seventh floor. While we waited for the lift to begin its ascent, I stood behind her while she looked at herself in the long narrow mirror beside the door.

"I really love this new dress." She smiled and looked at me in the mirror. "D'you still think it makes me look hot?"

She looked so ravishing standing there with most of her breasts on display and her skin looking so soft and inviting that, finally convinced I knew what she wanted, I stepped forward, wrapped my arms around her waist, and pressed my erection against her ass.

"You look gorgeous Katy, an absolute dream."

I rubbed my shaft between her buttocks and raised one of my hands and clasped her zipper tag. She wanted me to take her, I was sure of it, I really was. I tugged the zipper down a few catches and moved my trembling fingers under the inside edge of her dress...

"You know what, Jack?" she said, looking into my eyes through the mirror, "I think you're the best friend a girl could ever have."

I couldn't do it. The sweet and innocent way she had just complimented me filled me with a rush of guilt, and I let go of her and stepped back. I had known Katy all her life, I had witnessed her being baptised when she was a baby and watched her grow from a playful toddler into a lovely and intelligent young woman. I loved and adored and treasured every second of the nineteen years I had known her. There was no way I could let myself give in to my ferocious longing for her. I had to fight against it, I had to.

The lift doors opened and we walked out into the deserted office. With the air conditioner turned off and no one around to give it life, it looked and felt strangely quiet, like it was asleep.

"So this is where you work, huh?" she said, looking around at the empty desks filled with the boxes and cables and the other bric-a-brac that make up what I thought was an average work-a-day IT section.

"Not much to see, is there?" I said, "Just another boring office."

She started walking along the gangway between the main office space and the line of small offices along the side where the managers and team leaders like me spend their days. "So, where do you hang out around here? In one of those Dilbert cubicles or one of these fancy offices?"

"In one of these fancy offices, the one at the end." We started walking toward it. "Come on, I'll give you a quick look, and then we really do have to go."

When we arrived at my office, she looked around, taking in the shelves full of folders and the charts on the walls that made up what to me was a typical and very boring office.

"Cool," she said, wandering around. "You must be very important to have an office like this."

"I guess," I said, watching her walk to the front of the desk and run her delicate fingers over the polished veneer. "Look, I think we'd better be--"

"What do you do around here? Not much going by how empty your desk is."

I watched her as, keeping her back straight, she bent over the desk and started fiddling with the mouse by the computer monitor at the side of the desk. The way she did it emphasised the curves of her ass and caused the back of her dress to ride up so that I could see part of the thin ribbon that snaked up between her ass cheeks. I still wasn't sure if her provocative pose was deliberate or not, but the effect on me was electric. The ache in my cock spread through my entire body until I was struggling to control myself.

My brain was a mess. "I...I do...mostly manage..."

She stopped playing with the mouse and turned to look at me, a faint smile curling her lips. "Are you alright, Jack? You look a bit flustered." She jumped up onto the desk, slipped her shoes off her feet, and started swinging her legs back and forth. "Is there anything I can do to help?"