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Allison's Affair

Allison Carmichael buzzed around the room like a hummingbird flying from one cluster of flowers to the next. An image enhanced by the outfit she'd chosen to wear this evening. The black skirt couldn't be described as a mini but, since it was intentionally half a size too small, it left little to the imagination as it defined her curves to a point a little more than halfway down her thigh. Her stiletto heels drew your eyes to the floor to start a slow climb up her frame over her well-toned calves, past her perfect, heart shaped ass all the way to her loose mane of curly black hair. What really sealed the hummingbird deal though was the sequined halter that concealed her firm C-cup breasts. Depending on how the light hit them as she moved around the party, they would flash either gold or an iridescent emerald and in the back it was cut low enough to leave no doubt that her tits were not supported by a bra without being slutty. If that was even possible. When she had checked herself out in a mirror after getting dressed, she had wondered about two things. The first was if she had possibly gone too far. The second was going to be if anyone would actually have the guts to talk to her. Certainly not the married men, she'd thought. Especially if they had brought their wives.

She'd decided to tweak a few assumptions. She was and she wasn't on the prowl. As second in command of the accounting department of the bank, she projected a conservative air. Always dressed in business attire ...

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