I had been looking forward to the office Christmas party for a different reason than all of my boring coworkers: I was trying to sleep with my boss and I knew the alcohol combined with an excuse for me to wear something tight was the perfect background for it to finally happen.
My gut told me he felt the same way about me. I’d get the suggestive emails late at night when I knew he’d been drinking. He ignored them in the morning but they came with a regularity that made me feel secure that the feelings were mutual. You don’t drunkenly email your employee about the length of their skirt if that topic of conversation isn’t deeply interesting to you in a way you’d rather not explore sober.
I was young enough to not care about the fact that it’s probably really stupid to try to seduce your job. My job wasn’t that great, it’s not something I couldn’t do anywhere else in town. I was bored and this was exciting. There was a heat to it I didn’t feel like passing up. So I decided the Christmas party was it.
The day before the party I got up the nerve to email him in the afternoon and ask the dress code for the party. He replied with whatever the standard line was about cocktail attire before I really pressed him, “what I meant was, how short of a dress should I wear?”
He didn’t respond for the rest of the work day, which drove me a little crazy. I thought maybe I had been mistaken about his feelings and tried deciphering the way he looked when he walked past my desk, but he was stoic as ever. I thought maybe I looked like a silly, hopeful little girl, so I switched to just ignoring him.
I was already in bed that night when I got a text from an unknown number: “Knee-length. Professional. But I want to see a sheer thong on you when I take it off.”
It was him. I didn’t know the number but I knew him.
A delicious feeling of victory and anticipation washed over me. This was happening. Thongs weren’t really my thing, but that could be arranged easily enough. I also had some black thigh highs that I never wore because they were a pain, but that I always thought looked particularly sexy while undressing. Those and a black dress that flattered me but was modest enough for my coworkers would do the trick.
Emboldened by his response, I sent him a message back detailing the thigh high component of the outfit.
“This is a good visual. Will you be able to keep quiet while I fuck you in the office?”
I was nervous to text more then and ruin what promised to be the most exciting night of the year, so I just sent back a short “you’ll see.”
The next day at work was torture. I was so turned on by his message and the detailed fantasy that was now playing out in my head that I couldn’t focus on anything else. The anticipation was making my physically uncomfortable. By the time I went home to shower and change I was extremely keyed up.
The party was held in the cafeteria of our office building. It sounds kind of depressing but they’d bought a lot of nice decorations and it was dark except for the twinkling Christmas lights everywhere, so it really did look kind of romantic and festive.
I was maybe the most nervous I’ve ever been, but excited enough that the nerves didn’t matter. His words had been clear, he was looking forward to this as much as I was and knowing his nature, he was going to take the lead anyway.
I made sure to go early. I needed to be a few cocktails deep to calm my nerves. When he arrived I was buzzed enough to be bold. I brought him a drink and wished him a good Christmas in front of a group of our coworkers. Everyone was cheerful and happy to blow off some steam, no one bothered to noticed the way I tried to be a little seductive when I said it or that I managed to turn around and make sure my ass made full contact with his crotch as I cut through the group to walk away.
I wasn’t surprised that he followed me so I kept on walking through the party and back up to his office. He shut the door behind me.
His mouth was on mine before I even saw him. I was completely enveloped by his hands and his tongue and my dress was pulled up to my waist before I regained consciousness about what was happening. I was sitting on the edge of his desk and he had stopped kissing and touching me to pull m thong down with both hands. The next instant he had slipped a few fingers inside me while he used his other hand to pull my hair back and expose my bare neck to his mouth.
I wasn’t even sure what I was begging him for, but he knew. He guided my arms to the waistband of his suit pants and I was undoing them. So that I could push them down and release his cock. He was hard and his cock was perfectly thick but I didn’t pause to savor the moment. I scooted to the edge of the desk so he could enter me immediately.
His weight was on me and he was thrusting hard. I moaned a bit before I got a hold of himself and he covered my mouth tightly with one of his hands. The slight taste of him in my mouth while pushing me close to the edge. I pulled his hand down slightly so that I could suck on his fingers while he fucked me. It kept me quiet and gave me something to focus on and his immediate groan told me he loved it.
His other hand was around my thigh, holding me close while I tried to keep them tight around his waist. He was the loud one now, grunting a bit which each thrust. His hands began to clench and he finished inside me with a satisfying series of manly moans. I felt completely satisfied with my plan to be the catalyst for such a primal expression of lust.
He removed himself from me and zipped himself up while I pushed my dress down and tried to straighten the wrinkles out that had formed in the last few minutes. As we moved towards the door I saw him stop to pick up my thong and place it into his pocket. He ushered me out of the door and into the low lights of the party without saying a word — until I felt my phone buzz a few minutes later and saw a text:
“You’re very talented with your mouth, I’m going to need to investigate this further.”