Bunny usually wore thigh-highs. But that day, she walked in, hips swinging in a little plaid dress, wearing nude-colored heels and pantyhose. Honest to God, all the way up to her waist pantyhose.

No one in the office knew we were fucking, and we both liked it that way. It made those sneak-offs to the file room — deep and dark and perfect to hide in — that much better.

The weather was still kind enough to allow hosiery. I would be sad when the heat of summer really hit, and the women all ran around bare-legged, despite the office policy of appropriate business attire.

I swallowed hard when Bunny bent to put her bag down and flashed the seat of the hose. Usually, I caught a glimpse of the tops of her thigh-highs and whatever satin panties she wore.

Bunny turned and caught me... Read More