The Naughty Diaries 2010 - July

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This is the first part of a bit of a catch-up of the past 6 months, as I haven’t posted anything for ages. Starting from this month, a new monthly blog entry will be posted (probably in the first week or so of the following month), tentatively titled “The Naughty Diaries”, although I’ll change it if I think of a better name, which will either be a blog entry about a particular event during that month, or a summary of my month. This shouldn’t effect there being other random blogs throughout the months as well, this idea is just to encourage me to post at least once a month.

Six blogs will be posted in January to trial this idea, one each for the July-December 2010 months, before it’s officially launched on a more current basis for January 2011 onwards.
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"The Office Temp"

We had a temp in the office for a few weeks back in the summer. I like having temps in, as it gives me a chance to be a bit more flirtatious, and let’s be honest, I get to be downright more slutty, knowing that a few weeks later, he’ll be gone and the harmony of the office won’t be upset.

Don’t get me wrong, I flirt with everybody at work to some degree, whether it be the cleaner or the finance director. But there has to be limits, as you see these people everyday and have a professional relationship with them first and foremost. We all have jobs to do, and we get paid to do them, so we all need to make sure that runs smoothly for the long-term. No uncomfortable moments, and the sexual tension has to be kept in check.

So that’s why I love temps. They come in, stay for a week or a month, or whatever it may be, and off they go when their job is done, and you never see them again. So it’s easy to start a bit of a flirty relationship, let it build up, and then by the time it reaches the boil and it gets to the point where it may start to affect the actual work, they leave and everything’s okay.

I’m sure a lot of you know what I mean. Especially the guys, when a young female temp comes into the workplace that makes you swear temp is short for temptress. J once told me a story of a place he used to work at in years gone by that had regular temps in, and the boss who hired the temps had a penchant for pretty young girls, and I guess he must have had some sort of under-the-table gentleman’s agreement with the temp agency who sent the girls over to make sure the girls that came in fitted the specific criteria – you know, early 20’s, attractive, good figure, preferably single etc. So several times a year a new pretty young thing would arrive to work for a few weeks, and a bunch of the guys in the office would have a bet about who could get her into bed first, and they’d spend the time she was there each trying to win that bet.

And with the type of office I work in as my day-job, we generally have guys in as temps as it can be considered a male driven field, and they’re generally fully qualified accountants, so are usually between 30 and 60. Often 40+ or even 50+ to be honest, the type of people who have worked hard and made decent money, and have decided to cut back and do temp work as they’re hourly or daily rate is high (even higher than it would normally be if they weren’t a temp), so they can work maybe 6 months out of the year and easily make enough money to live a very comfortable life.

I tell you something, in ten years time I’ll certainly consider doing it! Basically half the work for at least three quarters of the pay!! Only really works if the pay for that particular job/career field is high enough, which for me, right now, it of course isn’t, but after the long arduous study and exams are finished, and enough of the relevant experience has been gained, then hopefully it will be. But I’m digressing a little and moving away from the subject of the blog.

So in came the temp, and I was surprised to find out he was a little younger than the last few we’ve had in over the past few years. Early 30’s, and not too hard on the eyes either.

I often spend a bit of time with the temps when they come in, as I’m apparently a very good and very patient “teacher” who explains things well, and my all-round knowledge base of what we do in the office is of a high standard, so a lot of the things we bring people in to do are things I can do, and probably would do if I had the time, but I’m always busy with other things, so never get a full month or whatever it takes to fully get to grips with the complicated and time consuming nature of some of the things that need to be done.

But anyway, I’m digressing again, back on topic...

I got along with this years temp like a house on fire, there was a real spark there right from the start, and we began to flirt quite heavily. He was there for about 6 weeks, and for the first week or two I was probably sat with him going through things and explaining things for a decent chunk of our time at work, so I got to know him better than most in the office did, and he certainly wasn’t very good at hiding his furtive glances at my legs or cleavage as we sat together. But of course, it can be hard to outright flirt in an office filled with 10+ people or so, but the odd e-mail back and forth, which started out professionally in the initial few days, started to become a bit more suggestive, but obviously not overly explicit over the work e-mail system.

Then one afternoon a few weeks in, I got a random one word e-mail that simply said “Red”. I sent a confused response asking what he was talking about. To which he replied with a single line:- “I was guessing the colour of your underwear. I’m right aren’t I?” I couldn’t deny it, he was right. But it was hardly a lucky guess on his end really, the strap of my bra was visible at various points that day, and I’m not one to wear non-matching underwear usually, although it has been known occasionally. By saying “underwear”, I am referring to panties, just to clarify, we didn’t discuss the finer points of what he was guessing the colour of, it was pretty much implied.

And a new daily game was born. Each day, at some point I’d get an e-mail from him simply stating a colour. And I’d tell him if he was right or wrong. And it may be followed by a discussion about how he’d made his guess, or how he’d found out. He was right every day – often it was my bra that gave it away, it was too easy to show a glimpse of bra strap or bra trim, or even to be able to tell the colour through my top. The braless days were trickier for him, but I didn’t realise how often I must flash a hint of panties, either above the waistband of my skirt or trousers, or even an upskirt flash. Maybe a few times were just lucky guesses too.

I also tried to throw him off the trail a few times, with J’s help from home, once with a strapless bra, and once with a pink bra and panties set, but the bra had black straps and black lace trim, which I made sure were visible. I failed both of those times, he guessed right. But I wasn’t giving up, I became determined to win his little game one way or another (so did J when we talked at home), so the third attempt to fool him was a success. I did the rare thing for me of not wearing a matching bra and panties. Not just not matching, not even just slightly different colours, but a complete contrast. A sexy red push up bra, with a pair of green thong panties. I wore something sexy and low cut to show off the great cleavage the bra gave me, and frankly everyone standing within a mile radius could probably clearly tell I was wearing a red bra. But my modest skirt, only a couple of inches above the knee, with only an uncharacteristic medium split up the back, made telling the colour of my panties impossible. You couldn’t see through it, you couldn’t see above it, and you even couldn’t see up it, which I was extra careful about that day. To be honest, I’m not usually that careful, but this day I really was.

Later that day, an e-mail came through. “Are you trying to trick me today?” I responded jokingly, “Would I do that!?”. It took a while for him to make his guess that day, and it really was a guess that day. It was nearing 4 o’clock when he came to sit next to me at my desk to go over some work. On the front of the pile of paper he put on my desk was a post it note with “Red?” written on it. It was certainly a hopeful question rather than a statement. A huge smile must have broke out on my face, I was absolutely ecstatic to have won the game that day, and he must have seen it, as the look on his face showed that he knew he was wrong. We started to discuss and work on what we were doing, and whilst we talked about what was up on my computer screen, pretending to be talking about the work, he asked the question “so is my assumption on this part wrong?” He gave me a look, I knew what he was asking and it caught me by surprise that he wanted to discuss it out loud in the office, even if it was in “code”. But I went with it, thinking on my feet. “Yes, that assumption is wrong.” I said. And then clicking on some random cells on the spreadsheet on my screen, I continued our coded conversation, “This bit you’ve put in ‘red’ here is wrong, I’ll just highlight it ‘green’, so you know to change it.” It shocked me a little bit that he pushed the conversation further. “So the other column that’s highlighted green here, (points to screen although there was no green there), is there anyway to prove that this is right?”

I was a little lost for words to be honest, I think I even blushed a bit, “erm, erm, yes, I guess we can prove it’s correct” I almost stuttered out. “Do you want to show me that now, or do you want to do that later?” he immediately responded with a cheeky grin on his face. “Erm, we’ll come back to that later, if that’s okay. We’ll just do this bit first” I again stuttered in response. We then actually got on with the work we were doing, everyone else in the office unaware of what the conversation we just had was actually about.

We left the office at the same time that evening, shortly after 5pm, and as we walked through the car-park outside the building, he jokingly mentioned his “proof”. I gave him a giggly smile, reached into my coat pocket, pulled something out, and threw it towards him. He caught it – it was my green thong. I immediately said “see you tomorrow” and we went our separate ways for the evening. I glanced back fleetingly as I walked away to see him staring at me almost dumbfounded.

To be continued...