The office Party — Part 1

Hi! For those of you who don’t follow me on Twitter, I need to apologise for my absence. My mother has been very ill and hospitalised and my sexy adventures took a back seat. She improved for a while then had a relapse but I’m pleased and relieved to say she’s on the mend and I’m now back, fully functioning!

Her timing was perfect as I felt quite euphoric in the lead up to Christmas and the staff party.

My resolution not to be naughty at work has been tested over this year and having bumped into a senior colleague at an adult party (full details of those are in previous blogs) I felt emboldened. Stupidly do, I suppose. Sexy antics at a works Christmas shindig might be ignored, then again they might not be. But my mood was such that I determined to take the chance.

In particular, I had a fantasy I wanted to become reality. A terribly hackneyed fantancy, but what the heck. I wanted to have sex on the boardroom conference table. I wasn’t over-worried if it was with a man or woman, just as long as I ended up being fucked.

I dressed as vampishly as I felt I could get away with. The party was a continuation of the workday so no one would be in full party gear, just the frivolous end of normal work clothes.

This gave me an excuse to wear a see-through blouse I'd been wanting to for ages. I’d worn it to supper with Peter and his wife and it had been a hit with them. (The work colleague mentioned above — see previous blog!) I erred on the side of caution and wore a bra with it to the office but quite a revealing one and checking in the mirror before I left confirmed that even under the two layers of fabric my nipples were still perfectly visible. Delicious. I wore a jacket to preserve my modesty until I wanted to do otherwise.

I forsook knickers. It was ages since I’d spent a day in the office not wearing any and I missed the delectable feeling of nakedness while being so close to my colleagues.

I completed the outfit with stockings and suspenders, of course.

It was tempting to divest myself of the jacket during the day, but I resisted and played a game of hide and seek with my nipple. I found as many excuses as I could to visit my staff’s desks and bend over to point to some crucial matter on the papers I’d put in front of them. The action let the coat flap open and it rewarded any astute observer with the sight of a hard teat through my blouse and bra. I did it three times. Choosing my ‘victims’ more by the paperwork I had available than that they might be appreciative. I had two successes. One gave me hope that the evening might be interesting. He’s in his early thirties and single, as far as I know. Not especially handsome, but acceptable. (God, listen to me! As if every man in the country would queue up to screw me.)

He’d made an error in a report he’d prepared for me. Not serious, and by no means a bollocking matter, but it gave me reason to speak to him. I approached, dropped the file on his desk, and said, “You might want to check that figure at the top of page 27.” He looked puzzled and flicked through the file. I stood leaning with one hand on his desktop. The other I used to push my jacket aside and put the hand on my hip. He found the figure and immediately saw the problem. “Oh, I'm sorry, I’ll do another…” He had looked up! The pause was infinitesimal but there. “…draft.”

“Thanks. No rush. After Christmas will be fine.” I stood up and let the coat fall back, turned, and walked away. I could feel his eyes on me and I mischievously thought of wiggling my bottom but knowing my luck, I’d probably have tripped up.

The other success wasn’t so obvious, but their eyes took in what was on view for sure. I wondered if any of them would try chatting me up at the party.

We closed down work mode at about 3.00 pm and the caterers came in and set up in the larger general office on the ground floor, and we met down there around 4.00 pm. As usual, the conversation was banal to start with: “What are you doing for Christmas?” “No chance of a white Christmas is there?” until a couple of glasses of booze had been consumed and inhibitions loosened.

I was at the food table, helping myself to some more sausage rolls, when I felt a presence at my shoulder. Edward, my voyeur from earlier. “Hello, I've sorted out that figure, but it doesn’t change the conclusion.”

“Oh great. No, I didn’t think it would.”

“I'm sorry it crept in there, but I, er, actually wanted a word.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, hell, this is difficult. I’m not sure how to say it.”

“Go on, it is the office party after all, it won’t be held against you.”

“Well, I feel I need to say this. It was so out of character for you, so I assume you didn’t realise, so I thought I should mention it.”

He ground to a halt. I could have made life easy for him as I was certain what he was going go say. I could have pulled my jacket aside and said, “I know, have another look,” but I felt naughty and let him struggle. After all, he’d said it was out of character, which was good to hear. Clearly, I didn’t have a reputation. Yet.

“And?” I unhelpfully said.

He gulped, took a large swig of his wine, and stuttered, “Er when you came to my desk this morning, your jacket was open, and er, I… you, were er showing, er things.”

I played innocent. Naughty of me to make things difficult for him, but I had an idea I’d be making it up to him.

“Things?”

“Yes, your blouse. It’s quite see-through.”

“Is it?” We were on our own at the table, and my back was to the room. No one else would see anything, so as I asked the question, I pulled my jacket open and looked down. “Oh, I suppose it is! And gosh, my bra too! Good job I wore a pretty one. I put my hand on my hip as I had that morning and looked at Edward. His eyes alternated between my tit and my face. He couldn’t quite comprehend what I was doing. Staid ol’ Tracy!

“I’ll let you into a secret Edward, if you promise not to tell anyone else.”

With most of the staff, an agreement to that request would have been hollow, but I was fairly sure I could trust Edward.

“Of course.” I doubt he realised what he’d said. His eyes were not moving from my tit. My nipple had gone solid with the attention and I was now familiar enough with the feeling that had built inside me to know that I was going to take this further. A lot further.

I leant forward and whispered, “I’m not wearing knickers.” I pulled my head back just in time to see his eyes widen. He took another gulp of wine, then laughed. “You’re teasing me! Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it, but I thought it might embarrass you if everyone ended up seeing.”

“Mm. Possibly. If everyone saw but as it’s just you, it’s actually quite fun. Sexy. And no, I’m not teasing. I really don’t have any knickers on. Want to check?”

I so love to see that expression on men’s faces! A mix of surprise, lust, and almost horror. He said nothing, and simply stood there, his mouth gaping. “Well? Do you?” I asked again. “Offer closes in five seconds,” I added with a smile. “One, two…”

“Er, Christ yes.”

My next utterance was stupid on so many levels but I was so in need of sexy contact, so euphoric after Mum's recovery that considerations for my job were secondary. And as I’d said to Edward, it was the office party. Guidelines were not so enforced. Hopefully.

I edged closer to the man, “Best put your hand up my skirt to find out then.” Oh, fuck! You idiot Trace!

Would he? He was quiet and reserved. He must have been thinking similar thoughts to me. About his future if discovered. I put my plate down and encouraged his decision by edging even closer. “Go on, have a Christmas treat!”

I rubbed a hand up and down his arm. The contact wasn’t sexual, but it gave me a buzz and did him, too. I kept looking into his eyes. Felt his hand make contact with my leg. His stare was over my shoulder, checking no one was approaching. I felt his fingers inching my skirt up. I stood still, not wanting to do anything that might break the tension. My hem was now up to my suspenders. His fingers touched them. An almost inaudible “Shit,” issued. The skirt stopped on its journey. His fingers traced the outline of the suspender clasp. I was wet. Without knickers, if I got much more excited I’d be dripping on the carpet. Deliciously wicked. I should have tried controlling my feelings, but the thought encouraged them. I parted my legs a little more. Nothing extreme, but any juice was more likely to drip straight to the floor rather than run down my leg. So much naughtier.

His fingers had finished exploring my suspender. My skirt recommenced climbing my leg. He arrived. The first touch of his fingers sent a tremor through me and unleashed drips of juice over his hand.

“Fuck.”

“You see? I was being truthful. Now you’re there, explore further.” His earlier reservations had disappeared, and a finger slid in. That nearly did for me. It was the location that was making everything so ultra erotic. I managed to contain myself. We hadn’t been spotted, but a full-blown orgasm wouldn’t be missed! Much to my regret, I needed to stop this before I lost control, but it was hardly fair on Edward to have led him on so much and not give him some sort of reward.

I leant towards him and clamped a hand over his groin. Quite a large lump. “We need to stop,” I huskily whispered. “You’re likely make me come. Pop into my office in ten minutes.” His hand withdrew. “Fuck. Really?”

“Yes. Really.” I straightened my skirt. He picked up his glass and wandered off, and I managed to regain control.

I tured to rejoin the others and found Helen at my shoulder. “You’re enjoying yourself then?” she said smiling and nodding in the direction of the retreating Edward.

“Was it obvious?” I asked after we’d platonically kissed each other's cheeks. “Not particularly. Unless you know what you’re looking for!”

“Good. I’m finishing it in my office in a bit.”

“Oh, that’s a shame.”

“Why?”

“I’d hoped we would get to the conference room.”

“I thought you and Peter didn’t mix the office and sex?”

“That’s my staid husband. I have no such hang-ups.”

“Huh, I’d hardly call your husband staid.”

“Perhaps not, but you know what I mean. Anyway given that you plan on fucking that man does it mean you’re not available for anything else.”

“Helen, you still have a lot to learn about me. No. I can’t imagine Edward and I will be long. I’m not sure I’ll fuck him. Just a blowjob I think.”

“Okay, how about I find you after Eddie’s had his treat?”

A wird conversation, especially in the middle of a party. It was more as if we were meeting for coffee after a shopping trip.

“Perfect.” With that, we kissed on the cheeks again, had a discreet fumble with each other's tit and she went to mingle.

The ten minutes were almost up so I strolled out and up to my office on the next floor. As expected the general office was deserted. I went into my room. Edward wasn’t there. I left the door ajar so I could check who was approaching, went around behind my desk, and unzipped and stepped out of my skirt. I sat down and put my feet on my desk. Legs wide apart. I was enacting another fantasy. Doing what I was doing, but with an office full of people.

I idly fingered myself imagining the different reactions from my staff if they could see me when I heard the outer door open. Edward. I didn’t stop what I was doing. He pushed the door open and stopped dead. “Fuck! I had no idea.”

“About what?

“About you being so sexy.”

“Good. I hope you’ll keep it to yourself.”

“Shit, of course.”

“Good. Come. Have a taste.” I swung my legs off the desk and over the arms of my office chair. He was on his knees in front of me in an instant. I was already soaking from my fantasy and he had a great tongue so the flow continued. His hand came up and found a tit and started kneading it while his tongue was deep in me. I helped him out. Undid my blouse. Pushed my bra up over my tits. Encouraged his fingers to squeeze my nipple.

How long had it been since I’d orgasmed? Up until a couple of years ago, I could count the interval between them in years. Recent times had reduced that to days if not hours, but it must have been two or three weeks now. I needed this. Like a drug. And when it came it was sublime. Edward was more practiced than I’d imagined and my eruption was monumental. Thank god I’d halted him at the party. I think he may have worried I was fitting so intense was my reaction.

It took me a while to be calm enough to repay him. “Here. Sit on my desk,” I told him. Another part of my fantasy. Giving a BJ to every male member of staff one after the other while the women looked on.

Before he did I undid his trousers and pushed them and his boxers to his ankles. He was semi erect and help from my hand soon had him fully hard. I sank my head over it. Opened my mouth. Devoured it. Now, looking back, I realise how different this was to even a few months back. No hesitation. No rising phobia. Not even the thought.

I relished the taste. The manly scent. I started sucking. A child on a lollipop. Taking the whole length in my mouth. Lips tight around it. Pulling my head back until it dropped from my mouth. Flicking my tongue against his helmet. Kissing it. Watching the hole breathe like a fish's mouth. Pushing his cock against his belly. Opening my mouth wide. Devouring his balls while rubbing my palm up the underside of his penis. Sucking on his sack. Letting spittle dribble from my mouth. Watching his face. Not long now. Anticipating his eruption. Having my wide open mouth ready to catch the first salvo. Hot. Sticky. He took over wanking duties. Milking himself. Extracting every last delicious drop. Most had entered my mouth. Plenty had covered my face. Got into my hair. I showed him my full open mouth. I swallowed. So much of it. The feeling as it slid down my throat was sublime.

I backed away from him and smiled. “I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did,” I said.

“Fuck yes. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” I pulled his pants and trousers back up. “You go down first. I’ll follow in a while.” I had to decide what to do with my cum plastered face and hair. It was tempting to leave it. To go down with the evidence of being a wanton harlot, but I decided not to. Or at least to compromise.