1. Property Inspections


    Date: 8/17/2015, Categories: Office Sex, Author: CommunicationDirectr, Rating: 7, Source: LushStories

    landed on it. She pulled down on the hem of her skirt as she sat on the floor, looking up at me. “Watch that first step,” she remarked, turning red, “It is a doozie!” I extended my hand and helped her to her feet, asking if she was okay. “Just a bit embarrassed,” she replied. “I don’t know why I am so clumsy today.” The exit out of the apartment meant a trip back past the same hazards. I saw a hole cut in the wall, which lead to the garage area. “Can we go this way?” I asked. “Yes,” she responded, “but it is a tight fit.” “Tight fits are fine with me,” I replied. She took a step back and said, “You go first.” I squeezed past her, raising my hands over my head, my butt brushing against her front in the process. “Sorry,” I said, “it is a very tight fit.” She either didn’t care or didn’t think my comment was worthy of a response because she said nothing. As we stepped out in to the bright sunlight, she asked, “What else?” “Can I look at a vacant apartment?” I inquired. “Sure,” she replied, “let me show you the model apartment.” I followed her up three flights of stairs. Half way up she turned to make sure I was still behind her. “The third floor provides the best view,” Alisa remarked as we climbed the stairs. “We have a first floor model, but I thought you’d like the view from the third floor a lot better.” She opened the door to third floor apartment and held it open as I walked in behind her. She closed the door behind us. The cool apartment felt good. The apartment was ...
    well decorated, like something out of Architectural Digest. I took a couple of quick photos and stepped out on to the patio, which overlooked one of the garden spot, heavily-vegetated pool areas. “A great view, huh?” she asked standing next to me. I had to agree. “So what do you do when you’re not inspecting apartments?” she asked. I hadn’t expected the question. “I like to play golf, tennis and be lazy,” I replied. “Somehow I don’t see you as being a laid-back or lazy person,” Alisa responded. The hot August wind blew at her hair and I could make out a small tattoo on her shoulder. “Cute tat,” I remarked. She looked down at it and smiled. “I got drunk one night and woke up with it,” Alisa responded. “I thought about having it removed, but it costs too much and besides, it serves as a reminder for me of some good times and some not so good times.” I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding band. “Divorced?” I asked. “How did you know?” Alisa asked. “Well, for starters,” I replied, “you don’t have on a wedding band. Second, you’re strikingly beautiful and I would find it hard to believe you made it to thirty without attracting the eye of a man or two…” “Thirty five,” Alisa remarked, correcting my age guess. “…And you dress to impress…” I finished off. I could tell she appreciated the compliments by the smile that eased across her face. “ ...And you’re married,” Alisa remarked, looking down at the gold band on my left hand. “Yes, I am,” I replied. “But it is an strained marriage.” ...
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