It's the staff Christmas party, you know the type – a flash do at a local hotel. Except that, living outside the M25 and commuting into central London, no hotel is "local", so I've taken advantage of the discount room rate for the night. I leave work early to get ready in peace and quiet, while the boys have gone to the pub to pass the time until the annual corporate speech is safely over. Although most of my team are attached, partners aren't invited to these parties. It's nice to see everyone relaxed and able to misbehave in peace, and singletons like me don't feel quite so left out.
Anyway, I'm downstairs making the obligatory small talk until L and co stumble in and I go over to join them. From the way they look slightly embarrassed, I guess that as usual they've been discussing sex and women. Not that I particularly mind – I've always had far more fun being one of the boys, and I'm more likely to find their comments genuinely funny than offensive. I've got very fond of all of them, for various reasons.
R was always my favourite. I remember thinking at my first interview for the company that if he cut his hair he would be gorgeous. He's a few years older than me; dark, quiet and intelligent. More recently though, young D has been usurping him in my affections. D and I got to flirting by email and I was caught up hook, line and sinker before he admitted to a girlfriend. Still, how can you stay mad at someone who regularly tells you that you're gorgeous? He has a way with words, and he doesn't mind that I fancy him rotten. We've carried on flirting – it's too much fun for both of us not to.
L is a sweetheart, although he'd hate to hear me say it. He's older, nearly 40, and the stereotypical diamond in the rough. An East-End man through and through; devoted to his wife but spends his weekends in the pub with the lads. And S – well, bless him, he's the youngest, and a bit daft, but that's part of his charm.
So that was my team, and watching their faces I got the feeling I was in for a fun evening. I was looking good, very good in fact – no really, I was. Since I'd been dumped nearly a year ago, I'd lost weight and grown my hair. Up in my room earlier I'd dyed it flame red and pinned it up for the occasion, and I was wearing a floor-length halterneck dress, showing off my newly toned shoulders and arms. As I usually spend my days in the office in jumper and trousers, I knew that they wouldn't expect me to look so glam.
L is the first to speak, asking me what I would like to drink, and then sending S off to get it for me. The conversation stumbles along and I begin to have the feeling that there's an unspoken undercurrent. None of them will quite meet my eye, although they all seem more than happy to watch the way my dress outlines my curves as I move about. Once or twice I see L start to say something, but then apparently change his mind. D, the natural character of the group, is wittier and quicker even than usual, and he has rescued one or two long pauses just as they became uncomfortable. I'm not sure what's causing the tension. A younger me would have become paranoid and nervous, but I'm more relaxed these days, and I decide that I will continue to pretend there's nothing wrong until one of them cracks.
Finally, after several drinks, and as I guessed it would be, it's S. "We were in the pub earlier." He stops, and I nod. "And we got to talking." I nod again carefully, beginning to feel the effects of the wine on an empty stomach. The others are watching S closely, but don't seem to want him to shut up, and he carries on. "We were wondering about..." There's a long pause, and L finishes impatiently, "your sex life."
I told you it would be about sex. I'm a little surprised that they've been discussing what may or may not go on in my bedroom, but intrigued. "So, what did you want to know?"
D smiles at me slowly, and I can feel the butterflies start up in my stomach. Christ, he's gorgeous. "We were wondering mostly if you had one. Your emails are sometimes a bit saucy for a single girl."
"Really?" That's R, joining in for the first time. "You didn't tell us that earlier D – have you two got something you'd like to share?" His tone is reminiscent of a strict headmaster, and I realise that I am quite turned on.
I'm fairly sure I'm blushing as D reassures all those present that he and I have merely a platonic friendship, and that sadly he knows very little about my private life. All eyes are on me again. "I don't really have one, at the moment. Mostly I've been too busy, and anyway..." Now it's my turn to trail off, as I remember that I am not with my girl friends, who of course know all about my work-based lust objects.
"Anyway what?" L is getting impatient again. "Care to share?"
D is succinct. "Young miss here's had a thing for R since he interviewed her. How was it she put it? Oh yes. 'I spent as much time wondering whether I'd sleep with either of them as I did chatting to them about the job.' "
Now it's R's turn to blush, as he and L – my long-ago interviewers – stare at me. "Bloody hell, women!" L is mock outraged, and takes advantage of the disruption to go to the bar. R is silent, but he doesn't look displeased at D's comment.
S carries on. "Before you get too smug, R, you should know she's got a thing about D, too." He turns to me. "And he fancies you rotten back, although he's too scared of the missus to do anything about it."
It's D's turn to look uncomfortable – a first – and I think we're all a bit relieved when L returns with more alcohol, and a plate of food from the buffet. A few minutes later he starts up again. "So if you'd shag R and you'd shag D, where does that leave S and me? Not good enough for you, I suppose?" He's teasing, but I feel like stirring.
"Well actually, if I slept with you I could tick another conquest off the list. I haven't done a married man yet. S doesn't qualify until next year – although I suppose I could include 'someone else's fiancé' as a separate category."
"What do you mean, list?" R asks.
"More to the point, what else was on it?" L wants to know, so I give them an edited history of some past exploits. R looks vaguely stunned at the revelation that not only can single women have active sex lives, but that they can also be as ruthless and unemotional about it as men can.
I decide to press home the advantage. "Anyway, enough of you interrogating me – why were you discussing me in the pub in the first place? That's not very gentlemanly."
They have the grace to look embarrassed, and it's D who explains. "We were talking about who in the office was fit – and you were about the only one we could all agree on. You should be flattered."
I am, very. "But what's that got to do with my private life?"
He takes a long swallow of beer, obviously in need of Dutch courage. "Well, then..." he stops and looks up at the ceiling, as if for inspiration. The others have gone very still, and we all wait for him to carry on. "We moved on to wondering what you'd be like in bed, and whether we had any chance of finding out. So we thought we'd... well, ask, I suppose."
I look at them all in amazement and amusement, and each one of them is looking sheepish. "So, let me get this straight, you were discussing whether or not I would sleep with each of you? What am I, the team whore?" There's a silence, before I carry on, "and anyway, you know how I feel about D and R."
D is stammering now. "Well, we know what you've said in principle, but it's easy to flirt. We had no idea whether you would actually say yes, if it came down to it."
"I see. And is this 'coming down to it'? You're all seriously asking? Are we talking one at a time or a big old gang-bang?" I'm nowhere near as upset as I'm making out, and it's mostly just to buy some time. Besides, it's a pretty funny discussion to be having.
R has been looking more and more unhappy, and he's blushing furiously when he speaks. "We didn't want to offend you - I guess we're all just a bit drunk. We thought, seeing as you seem so comfortable around us in the pub, that you wouldn't get upset."
Now he's got me feeling sorry for him. "I'm not offended, I'm really not. Just a bit stunned – it's not every Christmas party a girl gets propositioned en masse by her team mates. And if you want an honest answer, then yes, I would sleep with any of you." I pause. "But thank God P's not here tonight." That breaks the tension, and there is more laughter than my comment really warrants. The mood begins to fragment, and suddenly we are all back at a normal works do again.
The evening carries on, as these things do – we disperse around the room, chatting and eating and drinking – but every so often one of them catches my eye, and I can feel the tension slowly building again. I decide to avoid them for a bit, and that's my mistake, because later on I am talking happily with some colleagues when suddenly L appears at my elbow. "Sorry lads, but she's needed elsewhere." And with that I am forced to make my goodbyes, before I am firmly but inconspicuously frogmarched out of one of the side doors of the ballroom and into the main foyer.
I had expected to see the others waiting outside, but there's no one really around, as the party is still in full swing inside and will be for several hours yet. L leads me towards the lifts, and punches the buttons with the assurance of one who knows exactly what he's doing. He is silent, and my head begins to whirl with the possibilities of what might be about to happen. I don't know whether to be frightened or exhilarated, but it occurs to me that I know and trust each one of them.
The lift arrives on the fifth floor and we make our way along the corridor to my room. I stumble slightly, catching my heels in the carpet, and L takes my arm. It's a bizarrely chivalrous gesture given the situation, and I relax some more, although the butterflies in my stomach are back with a vengeance. Taking a deep breath I step inside my room, to see them sat waiting for me. S is sat on the edge of the bed, and R - as befits his status as team leader – is sprawled in an armchair. D lounges effortlessly coolly against the dresser, while L shuts and locks the door behind me, and sits down in the second armchair.
With no-where left to sit, I stand in front of them, wondering what they have been planning, and whether it's too late to call a halt. It is, really, and in any case, I hadn't been lying when I'd said I'd sleep with them. The atmosphere is different to downstairs, as if they had been merely playing earlier, but this is for real. My heart is beating madly and for a moment it's all I can hear. Then R breaks the silence. He sounds a lot more assured than before, which makes him more attractive.
"We thought we'd take you up on your offer. I hope you don't mind?" I shake my head wordlessly. "You asked earlier whether it was going to be one-on-one or a gang-bang. We've decided on making it into a challenge for you."
"What," my throat is dry and I swallow and start again. "What do you mean?"
"We mean," he continues, "that we're going to blindfold you, so you don't know who is who. That seems fairest."
S continues, "If you can guess all four of us correctly, you get to choose one of us to stay the night. Otherwise we'll decide who stays. We'll have to tie your wrists, though, to stop you touching us."
I am trying to think of a reply when D steps forward, and taking my hands in his, pulls me forward and kisses me. It is as sexy as I had always suspected it would be, and I close my eyes and think of nothing except how good it feels. I hear someone else step up behind me and a blindfold is placed across my face and quickly knotted behind my head. D continues to hold my hands but none of them speak as they undress me, surprisingly gently. Someone drops a kiss on my shoulder as he unties the halterneck, and I feel confident hands remove my bra.
Then suddenly I am stood before them wearing just stockings and my heels - I had wanted to feel good this evening, and had deliberately left off panties. I know my figure is good, from my regular running, but all the same I am self-conscious as I feel them looking at my body. D lets go of me and steps back, and from them on I'm not sure who is where. I reach out once or twice but each time someone takes my hand and holds it still. My shoes are removed, and then my stockings are tantalisingly slowly rolled down and off.
My apprehension is fading under the sensation of four men touching me at once, until I am led towards the bed, and I hear the unmistakeable sound of someone removing their tie. I hesitate, but strong arms suddenly pick me up off my feet and lay me in the centre of the bed. I am thoroughly disoriented by now, but strangely, because they are silent, it doesn't occur to me to speak. I am laid on my back, and my arms drawn up above my head. I try to resist, but I don't stand a chance and my wrists are swiftly bound as promised. Just as quickly, they withdraw, and I can hear a muttered conversation towards the far end of the room. Then the door opens and shuts and the voices fade into the corridor.
There is one of them left in the room with me. I hear him undressing, then feel his weight as he sits on the edge of the bed. I can't tell who it is – there's nothing particular to give the game away. I bite my lip with nerves, and time seems to pass very slowly, although it can't be more than a couple of seconds. Suddenly I feel him lean over, and then his hands are on my breasts, kneading and stroking. As my nipples become erect he bends down to suck and nibble on them, and I feel the sensations coursing through my body and centre on my clit. My awareness is heightened because of the unknown, and I'm more sensitive than I can remember feeling before.
Slowly, oh so slowly, he begins to kiss his way down my body, until I am writhing beneath him, willing him to move down further. I feel him kneel between my legs, pushing my thighs apart, and then finally he takes his first taste. I can't stop my moan of pleasure as his tongue runs across my clit, and when he pushes his fingers inside me I can feel how wet I am. As he carries on all I can think about is cumming, and my back is arched off the bed towards his mouth.
Suddenly my orgasm is there, rising fast and crashing through me, and whoever this is knows what he's doing because he doesn't let up for a second, prolonging the wave of pleasure. For a moment the world recedes and all that exists is his hands on my body. Finally it ebbs and he sits up, and I feel the hot length of his penis slide into me in one smooth movement. Without thinking I wrap my legs around his hips, bringing myself up from the bed towards him.
He starts gently, taking his time, but before long he's thrusting more quickly until he cums, grunting with the effort. He stays motionless for a long moment before lying down beside me, and is quiet while our breathing slowly returns to normal. After a while he sits up and begins to tidy himself up, and I hear him moving around the room as he re-dresses. He returns to me and kisses me gently on the cheek before leaving, and I realise that I still don't know who it was.
I lie quietly, amazed that this is actually happening. I can't imagine what the atmosphere at work will be like in the future, but I'm grateful that they didn't choose group sex. That would have been too weird. The door opening interrupts my reverie, and I hear my visitor unbuckle his belt as he walks towards me. I'm concentrating so fiercely on listening for clues that I don't realise that my head is turned away until he turns it back towards where he stands.
Without warning I feel his penis at my mouth, but the angle is all wrong and I'm not going to be able to do this properly – I have to ask if I can sit up. There's no reply, but a few seconds later I'm pulled backwards to lean against a stack of pillows. My shoulders are twisted strangely, but there's not much I can do as he straddles my chest and reacquaints himself with my mouth. Despite his impatience, he is very well behaved, as if he's not quite sure that I'm happy to be doing this – which I am.
It doesn't take very long before he's obviously close to cumming, and I sense his hesitancy, as if he's not sure whether to cum in my mouth or not. I grip him gently with my teeth, trying to convey that I'm happy for him to stay there, and he relaxes again. A few moments later I feel his spasms start, and I swallow rapidly. This man doesn't intend to linger – he sits up quickly and moves off the bed, and I hear the door open and shut as he leaves the room.
I slide back down the pillows again, trying to unkink my shoulders, and as I lie down I realise how tired I am. It feels as if it's well into the small hours of the morning, and it's been a long day. I'm warm despite being naked, and almost imperceptibly, I doze off.
I can only have been asleep for a few seconds, but there is a jumble of sensations when I wake up – firstly because momentarily have no idea where I am, and secondly there is a hand across my mouth. I cry out without thinking and it pushes down more firmly, cutting the noise off instantly. The memory of what's going on floods back and I try to relax, hoping that he'll take his hand away so I can breathe. He must be watching my face closely, as he does move away, but not before a thought has struck me and I lick his palm quickly. I taste nicotine, and know at least that this is L.
He's obviously got something specific in mind, as he stands up and unties my right wrist from the bedpost. Before I can react he's taken my shoulders and flipped me onto my stomach. I feel his weight back on the bed and then his hands on my back, kneading and stroking as he soothes away the tension. I adore having my back rubbed, and am soon virtually purring. His hands move lower over the curves of my bottom, and I wonder apprehensively whether he is intending to bugger me.
He stops again and slides an arm under my pelvis, pulling me up onto my hands and knees, but instead of paying any more attention to my behind he slides a couple of fingers into my pussy. I am wet again, and my muscles grip at him as he uses his fingers on me. I feel him move up close behind, and he grips my hips firmly and carefully places the head of his penis just at the opening of my pussy, teasing me. I push back towards him but he moves back as well, and I get no-where. I try and fail again, and then he pushes forward into me and I have to bite my lip hard not to cry out from the sensation.
This is sex with a man who knows what he wants and intends to get it. His strokes are powerful and steady, and it feels as though he is intending to take his time. I'm usually too self-conscious to touch myself in front of someone else, but I'm desperately horny. As soon as I lift my hand off the mattress, though, he slaps my bottom, and I understand that I'm to stay how I am.
We continue until I'm dazed and dizzy from the sensations he's generating inside me. I've never been able to come without touching my clit, but it's beginning to feel as if this might be how it's done. Sadly though, as I get more excited, he thrusts into me and cums with a final flourish. We slide onto the bed, and he surprises me by gently brushing my hair back from my face. When he gets up I expect him to leave quickly, but after a moment he comes back to me. I feel him grip my wrist and think he's going to re-tie me, but instead he puts a glass into my hand. I swallow the water gratefully before he takes it away and leaves me.
I sit there quietly on the bed, wondering who mystery man number four will be, and whether I am going to win their challenge. Identifying L was easy, but I still don't know who numbers one and two were. If I lose, I wonder who they will choose for me, for I am sure that they will go through with their threat. I'm still mulling it over when I hear the door open for the final time.