One of the problems with being a sixteen year old girl is, well, being a sixteen year old girl. I have a total lack of focus on anything that does not grab my interest. My favourite song is the last one I heard on the radio; my favourite outfit is the one I just saw at the mall and "must have or I'll die", so when we were told in class to take a permission slip home for our parents to sign for our next yadda, yadda, yadda. Well you get the picture.

I took the paper home and stuck it on the fridge, which is the communications centre for our house, and a few days later there was an envelope on the table next to my lunch bag so I assumed one of my parents had read it and signed it so I took it back to school and handed it in and forgot all about it as my friend Jenny was filling me in on the latest weekend gossip.

Well you can imagine my surprise about two weeks later when we were given a talk on how to dress and behave during our "Day at work with a Parent' exercise taking place tomorrow. I didn't even know which parent I was going with. Over dinner that night I found out I would be spending Friday with my father. He's a transport manager for a local shipping company and works in an office above a warehouse in an industrial park across town.

Next morning I dressed like a proper little schoolgirl. Our official uniform was a plain white blouse, black tie, red and black, pleated checked skirt, knee high black socks and black shoes. Some variations were allowed so today I wore black pantyhose and a sleeveless, lightweight black jumper. This was extra handy as it allowed me to forget my bra. I also wore my favourite black thong instead of the usual black sports briefs.

I did my hair into two pony tails, secured with multi coloured barrettes and to finish my look I was chewing some gum as Dad and I headed to his office. While I expected a dull day I was also secretly hoping to ditch my dad and maybe find a delivery driver who could show me the best position to "ride" in a truck or possibly a storeman to show me the best way to "pack a box". My pussy tingled at the thought of being a nasty girl with my dad so close by.

Being a Friday most of the trucks had been loaded and left by the time Dad showed me around the loading dock area, the drivers were hoping to finish ASAP and be on their way home for the weekend. The few storemen around gave me a whistle when dad introduced me to them but they were old guys, even older than my dad. Yuck!

Upstairs in the office area dad introduced me to a couple of guys from Sales and Marketing who were worth a second look. Next there was another middle aged guy and a thirty something, bottled blond who helped my dad keep track of all the vehicles. Then at last we came to a door labelled Mike Murphy - Manager. Cha ching — jackpot!

Anytime in the future whenever a man is described as barrel chested with bulging biceps and ripped abs I will dredge up this first image of Mike from my memory. Around forty, tanned, blonde wavy hair he filled out his corporate polo shirt to breaking point. Dressed, as he was, in casual shirt and jeans he still exuded that professional air of a manager.

Even during the quick introduction my focus wandered to Mike, particularly the area below the belt, so it was only when my dad patted me on the back and told me he was leaving me in Mike's capable hands while he got on with his normal work that I drifted back to the conversation.

"Enjoy yourself honey" was his last instruction and I mentally agreed to carry it out.

Mike was compiling data into a spread-sheet so he had me scrambling up and down a ladder getting and replacing assorted box files, by tilting my head at just the right angle I could see his reflection in the window and he was checking out my spread cheeks as he got a clear view up my skirt so I decided to really give him a good look next trip.

This time I balanced on one step of the ladder, gripping the shelf and bending at the waist. I extended my other leg out parallel to the floor so I held a pose like a ballet dancer, next I did a tiny weight shift and the ladder rattled as if about to slip, Mike was there like a shot and placed one large, firm hand up my skirt and on my arse to steady me. I was sure he held me for a moment more than necessary.

Deciding that getting the boxes one at a time was an OH&S issue he waited below as I passed him several boxes then I timed it just right so that as he stood up from placing the box on the floor I came down a step on the ladder and his head disappeared under my skirt. We quickly separated and had a good laugh.

I sat in a chair next to Mike as he showed me how the data he was entering was converted into a series of graphs. Explaining that I couldn't quite see properly I moved over and straddled one of Mike's thighs and had him reach around me to access the keyboard, all the time nodding like an attentive student but also sliding my crotch, humping his leg as I acted all innocent.

Deciding we need a break I was standing on the opposite side of the desk when my dad came in to see how everything was going. Mike gave me a glowing reference on how helpful and enquiring I had been all morning. I excused myself to go to the ladies and my dad told me I could get a drink in the kitchen.

The sinks and taps are the same as we have at school so I stood to one side and flipped the lever up fast, sure enough if I had been standing in front of the sink my blouse would have gotten a good soaking. Idea time!

Back in the office I held my jumper in front of me and when Mike asked what the problem was I dropped it to reveal my wet blouse. Mike was sorry that he had not told me to be careful in the ladies as the sink taps tend to shoot the water out hard if turned on too fast. I told him not to worry as it would dry out soon in the warm air of the office. While I talked I could see that Mike's eyes were angled directly at my chest as the wet material clung to my petite boobies and pink nipples.

Mike and I returned the boxes to the shelves and collected another batch and this time his hand strayed under my skirt and held me by the thigh to keep me balanced, although each time his hand returned it inched a little higher.

Next it was back to the desk and again I straddled his thigh but instead of reaching around me he put his arms under mine so every time he went to point to something on the screen his forearms brushed against my breasts.

We continued this game of dare and touch for the rest of the morning and luckily I was on the ladder when my father came in again to ask about lunch. Mike mentioned that dad and the other people in the office usually went for a few beers for Friday lunch and, seeing as they couldn't take a young lady with them, he suggested that they go to lunch, and, hey, as a little bonus, take an hour and a half as things were quiet and on the way back grab us some cheeseburgers and fries.

I excused myself again to go to the ladies and this time I deliberately did the one thing women hate to do by accident. I caught my skirt in my pantyhose and so I had a complete butt cheek exposed to the world. Checking in the mirror all looked normal from the front but from the back, whoa, look at the curve of my arse.

This would make Mike's eyes bug out for sure!

I cracked the door to the toilets open enough to see everyone leaving. I made my way back to the office avoiding any desks that I knew people were using. I saw no one and as I entered the office Mike was standing with his back to the door looking down at the car park. I climbed the ladder to see for myself as my father's car drove off.

Mike turned and came towards me, I was expecting a comment about my skirt but instead he grabbed my arse in both hands and buried his nose in my butt crack and was biting at the nylon fabric of my pantyhose. His strong fingers took only seconds to shred the material and he was licking my arse and mashing my butt cheeks in his firm hands.