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Lesley was the office manager of a large regional accountancy practice, a relatively minor client of the design agency I own. Most of my dealings were with the company's marketing manager but, because I called in on them on a semi-regular basis, I would often also see Lesley going about her business. Our interactions were never more than friendly and professional, and yet from the moment I was introduced to her there was something about her that ensured that I would always scan the offices and corridors to see where she was. She was impossible to ignore. I guessed that she was around 45 years old, only a few years younger than me. She was attractive, and very curvy, with large breasts that swayed gently when she walked, and quite stunning legs. It was her smile, however, that first grabbed my attention. It was utterly infectious. When she smiled at me it completely lifted my spirits. On more than one occasion I also I detected a definite twinkle in her eye, as if she were concealing a more irreverent attitude than befitted her rather stuffy surroundings.

She stood out among her work colleagues, most of whom were either young professionals or crusty older men and women. Lesley somehow managed to slot in neatly between them; always immaculately turned out, yet with an undeniably sensual air about her. I'm just shy of six foot tall and she was about a head shorter than me, even in high heels, which she wore most days. She invariably favoured business suits, with fitted or wrap-around skirts and tailored jackets, but in warmer weather she swapped them for floaty summer dresses. If I couldn't resist searching ...

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