It’s the office Christmas party tomorrow. I say party, as it’s really just lunch and maybe a drink or two, but it’s an afternoon off so who am I to complain?

I was fixated by the idea of stripping part of a layer off underneath my coat today, but far too chicken to go through with it.

Pilates day. Pain day.

Start-up visit day! Last week my hemline went high, so this week I decided my neckline had to go low. I wore a rich red blouse with a deep v-neck, and accidentally I’d left the top button undone as well. I checked in the mirror and if I leant forwards far enough you could definitely see a nipple, and you could very much tell there was no bra there. It felt really brave.

I was even braver when the operations guy was standing over my shoulder peering at my screen, because I could see in the monitor reflection that half his attention was on the spreadsheet and the other half was peering down at my chest. I leant forwards to point at something and I really want to know how much he could see. Surely most of a breast… it was such a thrill. He bought me lunch anyway.

I was feeling so good at the end of the day that I actually undid all of the buttons on the way out of the building, albeit with my coat wrapped around me. Then on the way home I wished I’d just taken the whole thing off… imagine coming home with just a coat on my torso? Or just a coat on full-stop? One day.

It was a successful day anyway, even if I was wearing one more item of clothing than the previous week.

Ha asked me about my running today. I told her where I was (not very far) but she said she thought it was going some good by the way I looked without any clothes on! I don’t know if Vietnamese people are more direct or if it’s just Ha but it made me blush. But it felt good to hear it, especially from her. (Even if I think she was being more nice than honest.)

I was feeling pretty good about myself that evening, though, and ended up spending more time than I should standing naked in front of the mirror and wondering if this exercise regime really was changing my body shape or was it my imagination.

My legs were heavy when I went for a run/walk this morning, but I felt quite fresh all the same. But the day was filled with washing, food shopping and other chores.

Okay, I confess I didn’t really know what a Korean Spa was. So I turned up and there was Ha and four of her friends, who all knew each other, and we were pointed towards the changing rooms. I knew something was up when I started to take my swimsuit out and Ha told me I wouldn’t need it and just wear the bathrobes they’d given us. It was kind of weird just getting undressed in a room full of women (mostly Ha and friends, but a few randoms). Ha is so slim, and a couple of her other friends are southeast Asian too, that I felt like an elephant in comparison and covered up as quickly as I could.

So then we went through a couple of doors, and straight away Ha was out of her bathrobe and walking naked across this steam-filled room towards a middle-aged Korean (I assume) woman in what I’d only call sexy lingerie.

The others followed suit, and I was at the back feeling a bit daft as they looked around and I reluctantly slipped out of my robe and hung it on the wall.

My feet slapped on the floor as I went to the only open table, close to Ha, who smiled at me and winked as I was told to lie on it by my own Korean lingerie woman.

The massage that followed was amazing, though, and I soon forgot that I was naked, that Ha was naked, and that everyone who didn’t work there was naked, and that those who did work there were wearing black lace underwear whilst beating hell out of their customers’ bodies.

I’ve nearly fallen asleep in massages before but not this one, and once she was done we all managed to climb to our feet and shuffled to a side area where we sat around, still nude, and were given warm drinks amidst a huge amount of steam. It was wonderful.

I was disappointed when it came time to get dressed again and we headed off to a bar and shared a bottle of champagne. The others were going out for dinner but I was exhausted by that point and just went home and had an early night.

It was pretty funny that I’d been so scared about showing anyone my body for so long and so much had happened in one day.

Run, shower, breakfast, work. I tried to make it interesting with a new(ish) blouse with a very deep v-neck, but then Matthew wasn’t even in the office and nobody else seemed to care. Although Ha said it was very nice and I had good skin, and the spa tomorrow would make it even better.

I didn’t even go to the pub after work.

At lunch today Ha said a friend had dropped out of a trip to a Korean Spa on Saturday and did I want to come? I said I thought she was Vietnamese and she told me I was an idiot, because of course she was but that didn’t mean she couldn’t go to a Korean Spa. Anyway, I said yes.

I spent the afternoon with Brian going over a few clients. Yawn.

Jo asked me today how it was going at the start-up and did I mind that I was on-site for one day a week because she could say something if I did mind. I almost fell over myself making sure that she understood I was very happy with it, although not quite saying it was the best day of the week because I could wear whatever I liked. She said to let her know if it was a problem. I can’t believe how nice she is.

Pilates… yeah, you guessed it: hard.

I bought a jumper dress on Saturday. It’s lovely and soft and somehow figure-hugging and baggy all at the same time. It’s also a little bit shorter than I would usually wear, but it has long sleeves so it’s nice and warm, and it goes perfectly with thigh socks. (Now I wish I had thigh boots… no, I can’t buy anything else this year. I can’t.)

When I took my coat off at the start-up I was already expecting the brief look up and down, and the lingering glance at the two inches of bare thigh. And then, because I’m an accountant and counting is my thing, it occurred to me that this might be the fewest items of clothing I’ve ever worn: a dress, and socks. And shoes, but they don’t really count.

Work was much more fun and even the CEO seemed pretty flirty. I went out for lunch with them and he paid and they suddenly seemed much more interested in accountancy than I’d ever found before.

When I got home that night I pulled my curtains and closed my eyes and imagined I was standing in the middle of their office as I stripped the dress off and sat there in just my long socks as I worked at the computer. It would be the perfect job, and it was the perfect image to masturbate to as I lay on the sofa.