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 



