Casual Friday
By Dreamspinner and B. Dancer



Hey, big sister:

Thanks for writing after all this time. Thanks, too for inviting me to tell
you about me. I especially value your revelations about you and Barbara. I
remember her coming home with you to study. Little did I know then what the
two of you were really up to with your door closed. Now it seems you've come
full circle. Both divorced now, both with kids, and both realizing what you
were all along. 'Better late than never' a friend of mine says.

Let me sum things up for you on my end. I think you'll find this really
interesting. First of all, the job. We've got this 'open concept' thing where
I work. The office is like Dilbert's, with all of us peons in little four by
four cubes made out of portable padded dividers about four feet high. I guess
that's why they call them 'cubes' now that I think of it. All that's missing
is a four by four foot ceiling. The supervisors, of course, sit in spacious
ten by ten offices with big windows they can look out of and see us
working...or not.

So imagine three hundred of us in a giant, cubed-off room with one supervisor
for every twenty of us and you get the idea. But it's not all bad: the work's
fun, the benefits are great, and, since we're in a high-rise, there's plenty
of sunlight which makes the work easy on the eyes. Some of my fellow
employees, though, are too easy on the eyes.

One in particular is a real distraction. Her name is Lisa, and she's one of
these short-but-tightly-packed girls with nice boobs and shapely arms and legs
who looks like she was the top girl in the cheerleader pyramid. Every office
I've ever worked in has had a girl like her.

Anyway, there's this thing between us. The first day I was on the job, she
came over to my cube to 'welcome' me. (Actually, it was to let me know she was
available, and if anyone knows how to broadcast 'I'm available' signals, it's
Lisa. She might as well announce it with a bullhorn.)

Anyway, she comes over, gets up on her toes, hangs her boobs halfway over my
cube wall and starts going from side to side which makes her half-smashed
C-cups squeeze back and forth. Then she starts to work on me. "You look like
you work out!" she gushes, in her croaky ex-cheerleader voice. "Make a
muscle!" she demands. I push up my sleeve and bend my arm. "Ooh!" she says, in
a voice I know every one of the other two hundred ninety-eight can hear. "I
bet you're really strong!"

I put my finger to my lips. "Not so loud!" I say, sotto voce.

"Why not?" she yells. "Aren't you proud of your big, strong muscles?"

"Of course," I say. "But this is my first day. Don't you think I should be
low-key?"

"Why?" she yells, half-mashed boobs still squeezing back and forth. "I'm not!"
she yells again. Then she winks and croaks, "See you again, cutie-pie," and
walks back to her cube.

The next day, she comes over, hangs her boobs over my wall and asks me right
off the bat what she can do to improve the shape of her arms.

I think they looked pretty good already, and ask, "What's wrong with them?"

Lisa bends both her arms and nice, round muscles jump up like they came out of
nowhere. She gives me a cheerleader smile and I know she's tricked me. "Don't
you think I could use a little more muscle?" she asks, feigning innocence.
Like only girls like Lisa know instinctively, she senses she's made putty out
of me. "Besides," she says, getting ready to give me the old one-two punch,
"They're soft. Go ahead," she says. "Feel them^×they're pathetic."

I stand up and put my hands on her biceps and notice two things
simultaneously^×that her popping-up muscles are stone-hard; and that every eye
around is looking right at me.

I sit down immediately. "You did that on purpose!" I say.

She acts like she's real insulted. "Just teasing," she says. "Nothing wrong
with that, is there?"

"My expense," I say, not knowing whether or not she is insulted or not but
hoping she isn't.

She comes around and sits on the only corner of my desk where I don't have
anything and crosses her legs, which squishes her calf muscle out. She points
her toe and it balls up. "My calves need work, too, don't you think?"

I've got my hands underneath my desk and I feel things start to move. "No," I
say. "Your calves look good to me, really they do," I say, hoping she'll go
away so I can give my crotch the attention it wants, but wishing she'll stay
and let me stroke off while she makes her calf muscle ball up again and again.

But, she hops off my desk and puts her hand on my shoulder. "I better get back
to my desk," she says. "Looks like you've got things you need to do, too,"
like she can read my mind...or my body language.

She comes around and mashes her boobs over my wall again. "Let's work out
sometime, OK?" she asks. "The gym in the basement is first-class."

"OK," I say.

"How about Friday?" she asks.

"That would be tomorrow," I say.

Lisa smiles and says, "See you tomorrow, then," and walks back to her cube.

By now my parts are howling so I go to the restroom and ease their suffering.
When I come back, I pick up the phone and call my supervisor. I tell her I
need some advice about Fridays and what to wear. I saw in the employee manual
that they had 'Casual Friday' there and I want to know exactly what that
means, I tell her. She says they really do have very casual Fridays and I can
wear pretty much what I want. She'll leave it up to me, she says. I thank her
and tell her I like the place already. She says that's what it looked like to
her, too. Then she laughs and tells me she's glad to have me on board and
hangs up.

Friday comes and I go in workout pants and T-shirt and head straight to my
cube and hunker down. Lisa, on the other hand, arrives in flip-flops, boy
shorts and tank, croaks her entry and commences parading herself around the
office with every set of eyes in the place, including mine, watching her every
move.

It gets to be three-thirty and she hasn't come over to my cube all day and I'm
starting to think she might be going to blow me off so I Email her and ask
what's up. She Emails back and says she hasn't forgotten about our workout
date and asks me do I like her outfit. I write back and say she's driving me
nuts and I can't wait. She Emails back and tells me to calm down and get a
hold of myself. I think about Emailing her that I have been holding myself all
day, but instead I just tell her I'll see her later.

Four o'clock comes and Lisa's C-cups appear over the top of my cube wall. She
braless and I can see her nipples like she's wearing nothing. My hand goes
down my workout pants and I scoot further under my desk so she can't see me. I
open up my legs to give myself more room and she gets up on her toes and leans
in my cube like she's either trying to see what I'm up to or trying to look at
the pile of stuff I've been working on all day, and I think her tits are going
to spill out the top of her tank.

She lays her arms on the top of the wall and takes hold of her top and pulls
it down a bit and at the same time, asks, "Are you at a good stopping place?"
clearly letting me know she's got getting together on her mind but giving
herself some cover at the same time.

"I am," I say. "Are you ready to pump iron?"

Lisa smiles and croaks, "Let's do it, muscles!" and comes around and pulls me
to my feet.

"Lead the way," I say.

She pushes me ahead of her and says, "No, you lead the way. I like the view
from back here."

We get to the stairs and I stick my card in the slot and push the door open
for her. "After you," I say.

Lisa goes in and beckons me to hurry up. I get in quick and close the door and
she says, "Make a muscle." I do and she grabs my arm with both hands. "Gosh,"
she croaks. "I can't wait to see this muscle in motion. Let's hurry down to
the gym so we beat the crowd," she says, and makes me go first down the
stairs.

One flight down, I turn over my shoulder and say, "You said you liked the view
from back there."

"I sure do!" she croaks.

"Can you tell I work out from back there?" I ask, fishing.

Lisa grabs my ass with both hands, nearly causing me to lose my balance. "Make
this hard!" she says. I stop and squeeze my butt cheeks together. She gasps.
"Great tuschie," she says. "Now I want to see your calves," she says. "Turn
around!"

She makes me stand with the balls of my feet on a step and go up on tiptoe.
Then she pulls up the legs of my workout pants and grabs my calves and
squeezes them^×or tries to. "Damn!" she says. "I've never felt calves like
yours before." She tries to make dents in them.

"Give up?" I ask, coming down flatfooted.

Lisa's face is beet-red. "Let's go to the gym," she says, and makes me go
downstairs. "We're almost there."

I go down a few steps and say, "You never did answer my question," without
turning around.

"What question?" she asks.

"Can you tell I work out from back there?"

"Best rear view I've ever seen," she says. "Yes," she says. "I can tell."
She's breathing hard.

We get to the floor where the gym is. I put my hands on the crash bar and say,
"I've never wanted to be a cube wall in my life until I started work here
yesterday."

Lisa laughs and cups her breasts. "You mean these?" she says. "These little
C-cups?"

"You bet," I say, my hands still on the crash bar. "They're just the right
size, I think."

She stands behind me, reaches around and puts her hands on my chest. "I've
wanted to do this ever since I laid eyes on you," she says.

I use the crash bar to flex. Her hands go from feeling my thick pecs to
twirling my nipples.

I pull away. "That tickles," I say, and push into the gym.

Two monstrous guys are the only ones in there. One looks up and says, "Fresh
meat, eh, Lisa?" and laughs like it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

His buddy doesn't even smile^×he just looks me up and down. "How long you been
lifting?" he says.

"Ten years," I say.

"You two want to work in?" he asks.

Lisa pulls me aside and whisper-croaks, "Let's forget the gym for today. I've
got a better idea," and pushes me out the door.

"Some other time," I say over my shoulder as Lisa shepherds me out the door to
the parking lot.

"Where are you parked?" she asks, squinting in the sun.

I look around to get my bearings. "I can see my car from here," I say. "The
blue Mustang right over there...see it?"

Lisa nods her head. "I know a place where we can sit and talk," she says.

We get in my car and she directs me to a little side area away from our
building and tells me to park in the shade of some eucalyptus trees. I pull in
and roll my window down and wait.

Lisa undoes her seat belt, slides down in her seat, looks over at me and pulls
her boy shorts down to mid-thigh. She's not wearing panties or a thong, and
she's got her pussy hair trimmed in the shape of a little upside-down heart.

I lean over and put one hand behind her neck and move the other to her pussy.
Our lips meet at the exact moment my hand touches her pubic hair and she
quietly sucks my tongue in her mouth and goes slowly bucking on my hand. In a
moment, our mouths are pressed hard together and she's maneuvered herself so
my fingers slide inside her.

We tongue and tongue and kiss deep and heavy and then she takes my hand out of
her pussy and slides it up under her tank on her breast. Her nipple is hard
and she makes me close my thumb and forefinger around it and tells me to
squeeze hard. I do and she bites my tongue so hard I can taste salt.

"Let's get a room," she croaks. "There's a place right down the street," she
says. I gather myself and start my car and we roar off.

Ten minutes later, I've checked in and with the key I got from the guy at the
desk I go around to the room. When I get there, I wave to Lisa and she gets
out of my car and runs over. "Hurry!" she says, and kisses me hard. "Open the
door! I'm on fire!"

I finally get the key in and turn the knob. Lisa pushes me in so hard I fall
on the floor. She slams the door shut and jumps on top of me, grinding away on
my backside. "Make your ass hard!" she commands. I flex my butt cheeks and she
goes to grinding even harder. "God damn, you've got a nice ass!" she yells.

In the next moment, she gets off, rolls me over, sits on me and shoves her
hands up my T-Shirt and grabs my breasts. "Flex these babies!" she croaks. I
make my pecs hard and she squeezes them with all her might. "Jesus!" Muscle
and tit! Muscle and tit! What a great combination!" she yells and kisses me
violently, squeezing away on my pec-titties.

I lift my T-shirt up and tell her I want to be sucked and she goes down on my
right nipple and pulls on it like she's trying to suck a glob of milkshake
through a straw, and I writhe on the floor. My eyes roll back in my head and
the waves start coming. I push her off and go to work on myself.

"Let me do that!" she says, and jerks my workout pants down to my ankles and
dives down on me. I feel her hot little tongue making dog circles on my clit
and I want to scream and I stiffen up.

"Relax!" she says.

"Relax?" I hiss. "Are you nuts?"

"Is it too much?" she says.

"God, no, Lisa. Please take it again...more, please," I beg.

She says she wants to do 69 and before I can say 'yes' or 'no' she's got her
boy shorts off and swings around over me and shoves her hands under my butt
and I'm looking up at her pussy with its cute little hair heart frame. For a
moment, I contemplate the view of her two hard, cheerleader's buns in the
background and then put my hands on it, jam her down on my face and stick my
tongue in her as far as I can.

Lisa screams, "Suck me, suck me, suck me!" and goes to grinding my face. I
feel her hard cheerleader buttocks flexing and contracting and taste the odd,
iron taste some girls have.

I remember how hard her biceps were when she tricked me into feeling them and
reach down and grab her upper arms. She's got her hands under my ass and it's
like she's trying to lift me off the floor and her biceps are hard as stones
with the effort. "Make your muscles harder, Lisa!" I shout. I don't know how,
but she does and the feel of her ever-hardening muscles in my hands takes me
over the edge.

She must like having her muscles felt, because she suddenly gushes and her
mess gets all over me, but we don't stop^×she keeps grinding my face, I keep
my tongue darting in and out of her, her arm muscles keep getting harder, she
keeps her tongue working my clit and I go off again and again until I think
I'm going to faint. I push her off.

"Gosh, you're strong," Lisa says, switching ends and coming up to lie on the
floor next to me. "You lifted me off like I was nothing."

I bend my arm and make my muscle bulge up. "Feel this," I say.

Lisa takes my biceps with both hands and shudders. She scoots up and puts her
tongue on it, tracing its contours from where it goes in by my elbow to up by
my shoulder and then across my chest, up my neck and into my mouth, and like
we never stopped, we're deep tongue kissing again.

I pull back and say, "Let's get in bed," and stand up. Lisa reaches up like
she wants me to pull her to her feet, but I say, "I've got a better idea," and
bend down and slide one hand behind her knees and one behind the small of her
back and lift her up.

She wraps her arms around my neck and says, "My hero."

I carry her around the room for a few minutes, showing off how strong I am,
with Lisa feeling my arms and chest and strong back muscles and saying how
nice it is to find a really strong woman and how good it feels to be carried
around.

Finally I toss her on the bed and straddle her.

"Flex for me," she says, and I start doing muscle poses, one after the other.
After the third or fourth one, she starts posing too, mirroring my poses so
it's like we're doing a choreographed pairs routine.

After about the tenth pose, Lisa asks, "Are you as turned on as I am?"

"More," I say, and get off, switch ends and stick my right leg under her and
slide up so our pussies touch and we go grinding crotches in slow motion.

Lisa's hands are all over my left calf, squeezing it and rubbing up and down,
exploring how the muscle swells and tapers off, and then she pulls my foot
towards her and the next thing I know she's got my big toe in her mouth,
sucking away. That makes me come for what seems about the twentieth time and
after the last wave passes, I relax completely and let my arms flop on the
bed.

"Lisa," I say. "I'm beat."

I feel her nod. "Me, too," she says.

It takes us a few minutes to untangle ourselves and scoot over to the edge of
the bed with our legs dangling down. Lisa leans into me. "You're something
else," she says.

I shake my head. "It's you," I say. "You're the one who's something else."

"Regardless," she says. "I'd like to see you again."

"Next Friday work for you?" I ask.

"Next Friday's good," she says. She sneaks her hand toward my pussy.

I smack it. "Next Friday," I say. "It needs a week off."

Well, big sister, you said you wanted details, so that's what you got. Anyway,
that was a year ago. Lisa and I have been getting together ever since then,
not only on Casual Fridays, but during the week sometimes, too.

Neither one of us wants to change our living arrangements...not right now,
anyway. For now, things are good. And our work's fun, the benefits are great,
and, since we're in a high-rise, there's plenty of sunlight which makes the
work easy on the eyes.

Lisa, of course, is very easy on the eyes. And speaking of, she just came
over, got up on her toes and hung her C-cups halfway over my cube wall. I
better sign off and see what's on her mind. If I'm lucky, it's me!

Bye for now,

Love, your little sister

PS: I am so glad you finally told me about you and Barbara. You have no idea,
really. Thanks. I know you took a huge risk. It's funny, really, how we were
so afraid to tell what we were that we didn't even communicate for over a
year. Please write me any time. A question: with you and Barb, is it like it
is with Lisa and me?

The end