Many years ago I fell in love with Connie. No, that is not true, I lusted after her. She was young enough to have been my daughter. She was a young tracer in the Drawing Office where I ran a section in a now defunct government department. She was assigned to me and in the days of very short mini skirts she used to attract the attention of all in the office when she worked on her drawing board, getting off of her stool, standing up and bending over to reach the top of the plan she was working on while the eyes of males around admired her pretty frilly briefs and curvy youthful thighs. Once she was mine to supervise, I tactfully told her of the distraction she was causing. She was surprised, but not offended by my mentioning this and somehow she seemed to bond to me after that. I became a second father figure to her so I alone was allowed to admire her legs and bum and sweet face and also to share all her confidences. These included the disaster of her leaving home to share some digs with a girlfriend as well as learning that the reason for leaving home was the impending split up of her parents. Later I had to enthuse over the news of her new boyfriend at Uni and their future plans culminating in her marriage where both my wife and I were invited to the ceremony. I said to her before the big day “I’ll be there but you won’t see me”. She looked at me puzzled “Of course I will” she retorted. Later after the honeymoon when she returned to work she had to admit she hadn’t seen me.
Her skirts however became longer. She still needed to talk about her life though; so their day to day problems were brought to me, such as the need to find a decent flat for themselves; the frustration with her husband’s little foibles such as how scruffy he was and their grand plans of building their own house in the foothills outside of town and him starting his own business. I was always there to nod and sympathise and let her give vent to life’s frustrations.
When she talked to me it was ostensibly about work but I could tell when it was personal when she would plonk the plans she was working on onto to my desk and draw up a seat and get close enough so no one else could hear what we were saying. I must confess as I perused her work and checked it, my hand would occasionally stray and touch her hand as we discussed everything under the sun other than plans she was working on. This was a very pretty hand, albeit with a wedding ring on. She never withdrew it straight away but contemplated our joint misbehaviour and then gradually took that temptation away. This was never done in such a way as to say don’t do it next time which was just as well as fingers were touched again on many occasion.
Many, many years later as I recall those years, I wonder what on earth I was thinking about. However when you come into contact with a beautiful person who you can bond with and clearly like each other, how do your show them? I never kissed her other than one peck on the cheek when she was heavily pregnant as I presented her with a gift from the office on her last day at work.
I know what I was thinking about. It was telling someone that they were special. She knew I cared for her and thought she was beautiful. She also knew that she could trust me to keep what she said to myself alone. Even that time she said “You don’t think I am getting varicose veins on my legs do you?” showing me some flesh above the knees. I must confess I never even told my wife that.