Christmas Party Out of Control, Nailed by the Office Bitch. Part One of Three by Bryce Denison Here I am at my wife's office Christmas party, sipping on my third rye and ginger. I am in the back of the room surveying the scene. Some people complain about having too many holiday social commitments. Not me, I love it. The booze, the food, the socializing, some harmless flirtations - what is not to like? There are over a hundred people here in the restaurant. The consulting firm Pitt Pringle had a bumper year since spouses were invited. Usually we are not and usually I wouldn' care. But this year is different, things are finally back on track with my wife and I. I look over to where she is talking with some colleagues and breathe in deeply with admiration. Maybe it is the booze that is causing me to feel sentimental, cocktails or not, the love I feel for her is genuine and deeper now than I have felt in some time. It is with these happy thoughts of good cheer and love, that I swig back the rest of my drink and place it down in front of me on the small bar table ice cubes rattling. I then notice a short woman standing beside me. "Can I buy you a drink?", I ask her. A bumper year perhaps for Pitt Pringle, but it is still a cash bar. "I don't drink," she replies curtly. Surprised by the abruptness of her answer. I look a little closer at her. Faithful and loving husband that I am, I still check out women. I am hard wired that way. I am not a shallow man, but the 'chick scan' my mind spits out definitely is. It falls into three general categories - fuckable, perhaps fuckable, not fuckable. Being happily married though makes it all irrelevant. I have tried to switch it off, yet like a defunct and forgotten computer on an abandoned spaceship at the edge of the solar system, my mind dutiful generates the fuck reports and sends them my way. I am pleased that in the case of this woman before me it does not compute. At first I think she is a kid, then looking a little closer middle aged. But then again older women don't typically dye their hair bright blue geen. She has no wrinkles, but the piercing way she looks at me is pure school marm. Coming up to my chest, she must only be around five feet two. But she is not stooped, her posture is confident and straight. The way she is dressed, a low cut black outfit, is ageless as well. A twenty year old or a fifty year old could get away wearing it. One thing my irrepressible 'chick scan' eventually focuses on is her cleavage. Her smooth milky white breasts pushed together...a fuck report at last is being generated. "I am Peter by the way." I say. "Tisha's husband." She quips. "How did you guess?" I ask surprised. "We have met before." She stares at me and blinks matter of factly. Raising an eyebrow, I shake my head. I would definitely remember meeting someone like her. "I don't think so." "Not in person, but on-line." She coughs softly and clears her throat. "The Sex Personals." She adds. My mind freezes, eyes open wide I look at her. Waifish and imp-like with large breasts and a cutting stare, one thing is plainly certain this little package is not to be trifled with. I need to tread carefully here. I know what she is referring to. "I am done with that. A momentary lapse of reason. Things with Tisha and me are back on track. We love each other." I say and turn to walk away from her. "Really? And to think just six months ago you sent me pictures of your erect cock. That along with emails that would cause even Larry Flint's ears to burn." Her voice has a clear efficiency, without humour. Is she the office manager? "We were going through a rough patch. I reacted by doing some pretty crazy things." I explain. This lady was right. But there was a reason for my smutlike correspondence with her. There was a time when I was feeling distant from my wife and sex deprived. I replied to a few online posts for casual sex that resulted in a few highly erotic if not perverted email exchanges with a couple of women. She was obviously one of them. "So you think you can contact me for NSA sex, send me emails, pictures, get me interested in you...yes very interested in you...and then pull the plug on me without any explanation, without any follow up..." she sounds pissed off. I interrupt her. "Here is my explanation now. I am married. I am not interested." She looks up at me and laughs dryly. "I am Katrina by the way." She extends here hand for me to shake it. Thinking the matter closed and reconciliation at hand I reach out to take it. Her hand is small, yet her grip is strong, too strong for my liking. Holding my hand, she pulls me closer and looks directly into my eyes, "you are going to finger fuck me, not later, not some other time, but right now." I look into her eyes intensely, not sure if I heard her correctly, but knowing that I had. "I don't think so," I pull away. Katrina still grips my hand. "You don't think do you? Well think a little harder about the Christmas slide show I am presenting to our staff and their spouses tonight. Imagine how mortified you will feel when by accident your naked picture, your cock shot, along with some of the filthy emails you wrote to me are projected wide screen for all to see." Of course that thought chills me to the bone. But I am not going to let her know it. "Well it is on your laptop computer, it takes a perv to know one, so I am sure you will feel just as embarrassed." "Think again, I am using your wife Tisha's laptop for the slide show, and I have all our dirty correspondence on a memory stick." She tilts her head toward the projector and screen at the other side of the room. I look around. People are mingling in groups. My wife is in a boisterous discussion with colleagues. Laughter and good cheer abound. Everyone is oblivious to Katrina's and my terse exchange. As my mind processes my predicament, I let up my resistance to her grip. She pulls my hand down. The little bitch has a feline strength. Katrina looks around to make sure no one is watching. She moves in close to me, take my hand and places it right between her legs. She whispers in my ear. "If you don't believe me, start believing because unlike you, I have nothing to lose. So imagine our happy office party slideshow and a digital bouncing prompt ball going over each word of your filthy email, encouraging others to read along - suck my cock you filthy cum slut." "Let's see," she pauses, "if I remember correctly you once told me," her voice goes deeper and mocking in tone, "I want you to sit down in front of your full length mirror, bend your knees with feet apart. Spread your pink little cunt. Would you do that for me? Look in the mirror at your pussy, spread the lips with your fingers so you can see your pink slit spread wide open. I want you to do that and think of my video clip..." Indeed I had written her those words, that and a bucket load of other smut over a two week period. I had also sent her x rated pictures, video clips, culminating in a 3 minute mpeg of me jacking off. I don't know what was going on with me during that time. I was like a bitch in heat, but a male version. Depraved dirty thoughts, words and images had spewed forth from my laptop computer into hers. Here and now at the Christmas party my mind clears from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I re-lived the filth like a dying man seeing images of his life flashing before him. There was no doubt about it, Katrina at the time of my transgression was on the receiving end of several months of my sexual frustration. I am wingeing in embarassment. Katrina's hand now holds my wrist and my palm presses flat against her. She says, "You know what bothers me the most? I mean really bothers me? The fact that you were so eager at first, you got me going, so turned on, then you just stopped communicating without an apology or explanation. Surprising, since you don't even know me. If you did you would know that I am not the type that lets someone off the hook so easily." "Now here we are together at last and" she smirks, "it is pay back time. You are going to do all the things you said you were going to do. To me. Tonight. Right here. Right now." I look at my persecutor more closely. Slim hipped and busty with a scent of peppermint about her, I suppose I could have done much worse. Her lips were rather full, but her eyes were dark and cold. Saying my options are limited would be an understatement, I have no other options. I breathe deeply as the delicate nature of my situation sinks in. I am now under this office bitch's control. "Finger fuck my 'pink little slit' now, or I am going to yell at you, for all to hear, and then throw your drink right at your face for all to see, so help me God." Without wasting any time I place my hand above the waist band of her skirt then slide my fingers underneath it and her black tights. My God! Her snatch is sopping wet. I place a finger on either side of her clit. They sink into her folds so easily. I squeeze her clit between them and probe her opening. It is flowing honey like a tap and we haven't even started. Adding two more fingers to the mix her entire quim is covered by my hand, her juices warming my palm. "See how wet my pussy is? Think how wet my pussy is going to be when you turn it into a cunt." Her peppermint perfume fills my nose, her teal color hair is exotic, perhaps she is younger rather than older, and her symmetrical face is rather beautiful. You would think all my fingers would easily slide into the warm opening of her pussy. But in her case, I can barely get two of my fingers pass their first knuckle inside her. No doubt about it, Katrina has a twat of an incredibly horny, incredibly sex deprived woman. "Where can we go?" I ask resigning myself to fate and in the process acknowledging how turned on I had become. "There is a handicap bathroom in the back by the kitchen, let's go there." She says huskily, her lithe body pressing into my arm as she practically sits on my palm. Just then I hear Tisha my wife approach. "Hey there, I see you have met Kat our accountant. The glue that binds Pitt Pringle together." My hand slides out of Katrina's skirt in a millisecond, the lighting is dim so my wife is none the wiser as she stands in front of us. "I sure have honey. Kat was telling me about the slide show. It is going to be lots of laughs." "That is just what I need to talk to her about." They start to talk. I excuse myself and head to the restroom for our rendezvous, adjusting my cock in my boxers accordingly. A few minutes later I see Kat walking toward me as I stand outside the door. I go inside. A large handicap restroom is not the most romantic environment but sufficient for a finger bang. Entering she pushes me onto the toilet, fortunately there is a lid and I sit down. Holding her upper arms, I spin her around and lay her ass-up over my knees then pull her black tights right down off her ass, to her bent knees. I look down at what was just revealed - an amazing firm bubble butt, pale white, a low UV exposed ass that is just now being warmed up by my hand rubbing. Being that I am happily married, it is not often a wonderful new piece of ass drops onto your lap. Blackmailed or not, her ass had to be rubbed. Katrina's hair dye program stopped at her head. Her pubes were not teal color, they were natural, and fortunately not grey but a glistening light blond. I say glistening because she is positively drenched. It is not a peppermint scent I smell anymore, but something with an even sweeter effect on me. Her pheromones send a trigger right to my dick, which hard as it already is, begins to throb. Wrapping an arm around her waist I place three fingers at her opening, spreading her lips in the process. Pressing on her clit with my other hand I sink my fingers into her hard. Her aggressive approach toward me is now met by an equal reaction. I slide my fingers out again, press on her clit and then Slam! I slide my fingers back in. I get a real sense of satisfaction from finger banging her long and hard. Her rubbery stiff clit presses into my hand as I hold her tightly during my fingering down stroke. I believe her little nub will make a berry-like dent in my palm. Katrina starts to make deep moans as my fingers delve into her. My fingertips feel for her spot, just a few inches in and to the top where her smooth pink flesh feels a little rougher. When I start rubbing her there, no doubt about it she is a true moaner. I lift my hand from her clit, release my hold of her waist and reach for my neck tie. I untie it, ball it up, and shove it in her open mouth moaning mouth. Just in the nick of time. Knock, knock, knock. "Peter is that you in there?" It is my wife. With four fingers bunched and now buried deep in the accountant's box, and my other hand over her mouth; a surge of adrenaline enters my veins. "Yes dear, sorry for taking so long but I spilt mustard on my pants. Just tidying it up." I hold Katrina still over my lap. I am motionless but she writhes her hips and ass into my hands. From the way her pussy contracts around me I feel that she is cumming. Cumming very hard. I look at her twitching twat and ass, my eyes wide with confused feelings of anxiety and lust. "It is almost time for the slide show, where is Katrina?" Tisha rattles the door a little. "You were just talking to her." "She was in the line up for the washroom in front of me, I don't know." I say breathing deeply. "I will be out in a minute." "OK hon, I will meet you at the table." She says and I hear her heels walk away back down the hallway. I pull my fingers from Katrina's cunt and reach for some toilet paper. Bunching the tissue and holding it against her sopping pussy, I say, "are you satisfied? Hmm?" Rubbing and slapping her ass cheeks quietly I ask her again. Then I realize she is still gagged by my neck tie. She spits it out, breathes in and out deeply for a minute while I wipe her juices from the both of us. "Yes I am satisfied....for now. I am not done with you yet." She says still panting from her personal denouement. "Yes I think you are, the slide show is any minute, once it is finished, you don't have any more leverage on me. There won't be a venue for your 'outing' of me my virtual slut-like behavior. Ha." I say for emphasis. It was the threat of her projecting my dirty emails during the sentimental office Xmas slide show that got her her finger fuck. Though I feel guilty as hell, to be honest I am also glad to have had this erotic adventure. Now my duty is done. "Ha, back to you 'cause the slide show isn't until after dinner. Tisha has it wrong. There is still time for you to do what you so expertly described to me many months ago. It left a clear impression on me. In fact it has been on my mind ever since. "What are you talking about?" I ask. "I am talking about your face fuck." She says matter of factly looking into my eyes a she pulls her tights back over her bum. "I distinctly remember you saying how you were going to lie down on your back and I was going to straddle your face, knees on either side; and how you were going to worship my pussy that way; just lightly at first with your tongue, then working toward you being completely smothered by my pink wet flesh." Indeed I had describe my face fuck to her in great detail six months before. There was a week when that was all I could think about, and Katrina, my secret Internet lover, was the beneficiary of my virtual face fucking fantasy. But having it done to me during the Holiday Season, during my wife's office Christmas party was not part of my dream. Leading up to Christmas a man forgets he has a dick what with all the stress and goodwill. Looking now at Katrina, her dark eyes, symmetrical handsome face and blue green hair, the reminder that I do indeed have a cock, came to me in an unlikely package. She outlines her plan for her continued sexual assault on me. "The company van is parked downstairs. Tell your wife that you saw me and I told you I was going to the store for a quick errand, you will have to figure out a hall pass for yourself. Meet me in the underground parking lot in a couple of minutes." "A face fuck?" I stammer. "Don't act all innocent Pete. You and I know you are the biggest perv here. Yes, I am going to ride your face in the back of the van, and you are going to eat my pussy, your tongue deep inside me just like you said you would." Looking at her watch she adds, "we have about 25 minutes of face sitting time. If you play your cards right all this will be a happy memory for you to jack off to over the Holidays. Preferable to having memories of extreme mortification, don't you think? You know, your wife and her colleagues learning on a wide screen how much of a pervert you are." "How much I was." I say with emphais in my defence. Though the prospect of some hot face sitting makes for a fine redemption. Five minutes and two lies to my wife later I am standing by the van's sliding door in the underground parking lot, watching as Katrina, aka the blackmailing office bitch, aka my email fuck toy, pulls the handle to let me in. As soon as I am she slams it shut. Tossing my jacket on the front seat I move to sit on the back bench. Katrina takes her tights off completely. But leaves her skirt on. She hurriedly unbuttons only the bottom few buttons of her blouse. "Lie on the floor at the back." She instructs me, tilting her head. Despite her no nonsense manner I can sense she is nervous. We both are. I do as she says and within a minute the soft flesh of her inner thighs is pressed against my cheeks. Kneeling over my face she clenches my head between her legs. My hands reach up to touch her breasts as I adjust my mouth to its proper position. That position being: mouth open, loose and pushing into her wonderfully wet snatch. I massage her tits, and feel her hard nipples through her blouse. I begin to pinch them. Katrina puts both her hands behind my neck in order to pull my face, my mouth up even harder against her. My tongue is flat now, surrounded by the folds of her labia. My tongue finds a softer spot, as she grinds into me. That spot being the warm and salty opening to her pussy. Katrina uses my face like a Sybian. You would think that with all my mouth and tongue work along with my pinching of her tits she would appreciate that there is a living breathing man underneath her. But from the way she face fucks me, it is clear she is a sociopath. She has no concern for my need for oxygen. I tilt my head back in order to reposition her clit. Pulling it off the bridge of my nose so I am able to breathe. I gasp for air, breathing through my nostrils, as my hands push against her pert breasts. Once repositioned I drive my tongue deep into her cunt. I want to feel the sensation of her fucking my tongue like a little cock. Katrina posture is ram rod straight as her ass and hips rock back and forth. My face engulfed by lovely woman flesh. Mushed into her pink quim, her sparse hair is rough against my chin. I am deaf. My ears are clamped against her inner thighs. All I can hear is the rush of blood as both our hearts beat quickly now. I have become incredibly hard. "Suck my cock Katrina." I can only pray. My mouth now engulfs her entire cunt and I am sucking on her now, as I wish she would do to me. Pre cum is leaking from my cock. But given she is facing away from it, I don't think release for me is on her mind. Looking back and up at her, my chin slides from her slick slit into the nook of her ass. My stubble grazes against her sphincter as I whisper huskily. "Hey Kat, do you think you could suck me off?" She looks down at me through her tits and my eyes look up between her inner thighs to meet hers. With a sneer-like smile Katrina slams her pussy back down on my mouth and grinds her cunt long and hard into my face. Resigned to my fate I lick and suck on her juicy box. Her thighs clench and then a warm rush of fluid covers my tongue, my mouth, my cheeks, my chin, my entire face and then finally my neck as Katrina has an intensely wet and wild orgasm. I love the sensation and want to feel all of it, so I keep pressing my face into her. So much for all the grooming I had done at home earlier in preparation for the party. I may as well have come direct from the gym. As she finished her exquisite face rub, Katrina looks down at her watch. "No time for a blow job right now Pete, but don't worry it is part of my plan. Have you ever been sucked off while eating Christmas pudding?" She asks me. As I pick myself up I reply. "No I can't say that I have. Now please hand me those handi wipes." I had noticed that the restaurant table clothes were long to the floor, red and festive for the season. To Be Continued Bryce Denison, Copyright Dec 2007, 2008 **************************************** Other Stories by Bryce Denison: The Girl Who Bummed a Smoke Out of Work and in My Pants at Donavan House Denise Sex Personals The Mercy Fuck Denise Sex Personals The Treadmill to O The Red Flame The Red Flame Talking to Denise in Her SUV The Red Flame The E Kids! The Red Flame The Psych Lab The Red Flame Off Campus Ass Licker Part One and Part Two Yellow Ribbons Nailed by the Office Bitch