The Staff Party

Special thanks to LadyVer for editing this story. I hope you enjoy -- Darktrain

The Staff Party

It was early afternoon, and it had been a quiet day. I had gotten a few things from the shops and done some things in the garden. Staff party tonight. Christ, I can't be arsed. All that brown nosing. I'll have to stand with the boss, and he won't be listening to a word I say. He'll just be leering at my wife, Jane. She copes well with it, but I know she hates it. We're both in our late thirties now. There was a time in our 20s it would have been funny. We would have laughed about it. But now? He's a lecherous old man in his mid-fifties and it's just sad and very annoying.

I pop down to see Jane chatting with Sally, the young wife of the couple next door. Now, Sally is a very young thing at 20, just married within the last year. Very naïve, but very pretty. Gorgeous, long, straight, dark red hair, and a pale, yet alluring, body. She's slim and a tad top heavy for her build, which she shows, and I swear she doesn't realise she's flaunting it. Jane always catches me having a quick look and rolls her eyes at me. I boil the kettle and stand there while waiting.

"Steve!" says Jane, "Sally was just saying that she's got the most beautiful dress and Michael has gone and gotten stuck in London on business. And they were going to go out tonight as well ..."

"Yeah," Sally confirms, pulling a sad face.

"Well, that's a shame."

They look at me for a moment.

"Try on your dress, Sally, and show Steve!"

Sally grabs her bag and runs off to the living room.

I look at Jane, confused. Before I can say anything, she stops me by raising her hand.

"You're going to love this ..."

Within minutes, Sally has returned wearing her dress. It's a royal blue silky chiffon dress with a deep chest plunge that practically has her breasts spilling out. The silky material is crinkled and seems to stretch like a sculpture over her body. And its short, sweet Jesus, is it short. It barely covers her ass cheeks. She twirls round showing it off, flaunting every inch of her young body. "Do you like it?" she asks, gliding her hands over her pert breasts and perfect bottom, smoothing out some of the crinkles.

The kettle reaches its boiling climax (and it's not the only one). How I so wish we had an old whistling kettle for Carry On moments like this. I nod my head, stunned, as she continues to adjust her dress. Jane looks at me, winking, with the biggest smirk on her face. She motions for me to close my mouth. It must be ajar.

"I soooo wanted to go out tonight."

"Well, perhaps you can," says Jane.

"Oh?"

"Steve has to go to a work function, but to be honest, I'm kinda not up for it."

Confused, I look at Jane for a moment.

"Steve's boss always has his eye on me. Or rather, he has his eyes on my tits." There's a shocked giggle from Sally. "All night. Me not being there, you'll be doing me a favour taking my place. Say I have a headache, or if he doesn't realise it's not me, say that I've had my boobs done." She laughs.

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea," I protest, stunned at her suggestion.

"Awww, Steve, please?" Sally looks at me with puppy dog eyes. "I soooo wanted to go out tonight. I wanted to dance in my new dress."

I look at Jane for moral support. There's none coming.

"Oh, Steve, don't be such a killjoy," says Jane.

Sally claps her hands, her face lighting up. "Dancing!"

"Steve will pick you up at 7. Can you be ready by then?"

"I'll have a shower and put on my face. I'll be ready!"

Sally leaves quickly because there's not much time. I look at Jane.

"Now, before you say a word, he won't even realise. All he does all night is stare at my tits." She must see my mouth is ajar. "Oh, don't be like that. She's a lovely girl. Just give her a dance and a few drinks and she'll be grand."

We argue for a few minutes, but it's pointless. Jane's mind is made up. I go to the shower in a foul mood. I shave, put on my suit, and get ready.

When I leave, Sally is waiting down by the car. The dress is on, and her face is made up. Her face is pale with bright red lipstick and a slight hue of blusher to her cheeks. I can't help but stare at her, taking in her beautiful body, those beautiful bursting out breasts and her sweet voluptuous ass cheeks. As she steps into the car, I look at her long legs, which are accentuated by her high heels. I'm starting to feel extremely uncomfortable as she sorts her dress' cleavage, her breasts wobbling. God, she's such a cock tease, and she doesn't know it, I swear.

We pull up to the party. It's held in the shipping company's office and they've changed the conference room into a dance floor with a DJ in the corner. Everything is well underway. It's a good turnout, fairly well packed. My boss, Peter, sees me immediately and waves, beckoning me over. Peter is in his mid-fifties with grey hair that's balding on top now. He's slightly overweight and a little short at 5' 6".

"Steve ... Steve ... it's good of you to make it." His cheeks flushed, the old man looks like he's had a few drinks already. He looks at Sally. "I swear your wife gets younger every year. I always forget your name ..." He pecks her on the cheek, ogling her breasts.

Sally leans closer since the music is loud, accentuating her breasts. "Sally. And I had my boobs done last year. Steve's present."

He nods his head staring at Sally's breasts, his eyes widening. "They look so real!"

The champagne is passed around, and within an hour, Sally's cheeks are a little more noticeably flushed. She pulls me to the dance floor and we dance. At first, it's innocent, but slowly over the next hour and a number of visits to the bar for champagne, it becomes a bit more than that. She's sliding up and down my front, wiggling her ass cheeks on my crotch. I can feel my cock beginning to stir. A break in the music comes to my rescue. The DJ calls someone up from the crowd, and they begin making a few announcements.

We leave the dance floor, and my boss beckons me over again. More champagne ensues. As I'm driving, I can't drink, but that doesn't stop Sally. Although she's playing the part of being my wife, she really doesn't need to play the part so well. She's holding my arm and stroking my cheeks while we're chatting with Peter and my other work colleagues. With one hand in my trouser pocket, I have to hold my semi-erect cock to the side. The party moves on. The next two to three hours are filled with champagne and dancing. Slowly, the party thins out.

Sally's quite drunk now and even pulls the old man up to dance, wiggling her ass in front of him and slowly moving up and down his leg with her thighs. He takes every opportunity to run his hands over that silky ass of hers. I swear she's enjoying the attention. She's smiling and giggling as she turns her back to him, rubbing her ass against his groin. That fucking dress keeps riding higher and higher. How on earth can it keep moving up and yet not fully expose her bum? Pete's face is bright red and sweating. He can't take his eyes off of her, and he's not the only one.

The amount of champagne has taken its toll on Sally. She's holding on to Peter's arm as they leave the dance floor. His arm is wrapped around her. He's pretending to support her with his hand brazenly resting on her pert bum cheek, squeezing it ever so gently. He's whispering something to her as they approach, and he gently pats her bottom as they approach me. She giggles playfully, her face flushed with champagne. Her eyes betray her drunken state.

It's almost one o'clock and I'm seriously considering calling it a night and taking her home, but part of me is enjoying her outrageous behaviour. I whisper to her that we'd better be thinking about heading home. She gives me a sad face, pouting, her bottom lip out. I laugh, make my excuses, and go to the toilet, and when I come back, she's nowhere to be seen. I check the dance floor. Nothing. I check the bar. Nothing. I check the buffet. Nothing. I ask around. Someone says Sally and Peter went up to the offices to get some air. I take the lift up a floor and check the old man's office and see them. I step in silently.

They don't look up. I don't think they realise I'm here. She's sitting on his right knee on a couch that's opposite the door, looking at some photo albums with a glass of champagne in her left hand. He's leering down her dress at her breasts, his face sweaty and red while she leafs through some pages. His left arm is across her waist, his left hand lightly running up and down her right thigh while his right hand is on her right shoulder, placed delicately on the strap of her dress, his thumb rubbing back and forth over it. Sally turns her head toward him, coyly, as he looks up at her.

"I'm having such a good time tonight," she whispers. "Steve says we should head home, but I don't want to. I've enjoyed myself so much in my new dress. He's right though ..." She frowns, then looks at him and grins mischievously. "But I'm enjoying myself right now."

He whispers, "You look so sexy in that dress. Your body was made to be shown off. It made all the men here tonight want you. They were all watching you, undressing you silently with their eyes. Every single one of them, they all wanted you." I watch with fascination at his attention to the strap of her dress, flick flacking it back and forth with his thumb. It's drifting ever so slightly along the top of her shoulder with every subtle shunt. "We could all see your lovely panties as your twirled when you danced. Your peachy bum looked fantastic when you flashed it at me." Biting her bottom lip slightly, Sally looks back down to the album, a smile spreading silently across her lips. "Beautiful, sexy girl."

Slowly, but surely, his gentle movements with his thumb slides the dress' thin strap towards her shoulder edge. Millimetre by millimetre, inch by inch, it moves silently. It takes another minute, and the strap slowly and delicately slips off her shoulder. It slides down her arm and hangs there helplessly.

She doesn't say anything but looks at him with sultry eyes, smiling, and then returns her attention to the photo album and leafs through a few more pages. His right hand snakes back and forth over her naked shoulder blades and rests at the top of her arm, rubbing slightly as if to soothe her. She takes a long slender drink from the glass and is about to place it down on the table in front of them. Peter takes the empty glass from her and puts it down on a small table on his left. He picks up the photo album from Sally's lap and places it on the same table. Her breasts are rising and falling in short breaths with anticipation. I could swear she's lightly panting. His left hand roams slowly up her right thigh. I should say something, but I can't. I stand there dumbstruck at what's taking place in front of me and silently watch his seduction from the doorway of his office.

"I'm very, very drunk ..." she says, amused.

"Did you like the men watching you?" asks Peter, as his eyes drink in her body. "Did you enjoy the attention?"

"Oh yes," she sighs, grinning.

"You like flashing your panties in a short dress," he says matter-of-factly. "How did that make you feel?"—He squeezes the top of her thigh through the dress with his left hand indicating her pussy.—"Here?"

Sally giggles, then whispers quietly to him. "It's made my panties damp." He nods, smiling with glee.

His left hand is still lightly stroking her right thigh while his right hand drifts across to her left shoulder and reaches the left strap to her silky dress. Once again, his slow, but gentle, motions with his sweaty fingers begin to ease it to the apex of her arm.

"Well ... maybe you don't have to go home." She looks at him puzzled. "Maybe, we could have our own little party right here?" he says softly. She grins mischievously and shyly looks back down to his hand on her thigh. His thin smile is as sly as a fox. "I'll bet you're even more beautiful without that dress on. I'd love to run my hands all over you and get your panties very damp, Sally."

Gently, almost innocently, the other strap slowly slides to the edge of her shoulder as Sally's breathing rises in excitement. His eyes are fixed on her breasts. She's shaking a little. It seems to take another moment before it effortlessly falls off her shoulder and gently hangs down along her arm. A gasp escapes from Sally as her breasts bounce precariously, fighting against the silky material of her blue dress, nearly spilling out. Encased tightly in the dress, it expands and contracts as her firm breasts rise and fall with every aroused breath. Peter's face visibly groans as he looks at them. Christ, my cock is getting hard watching this. I can't believe what I'm seeing. I shift my stance to move my straining cock. The old man lifts his head up and sees me. There's a broad grin on his face.

"Looks like Steve has made it. I told you he would," says Peter. Sally gives a drunken, playful wave, her flushed face smiling at me. She makes no attempt to pull up the straps to her dress, as Peter continues. "She needed a rest. I suggested we came up here, didn't we, my dear?" He winks at me. Sally nods, her eyes almost closed as he lightly strokes her neck with his index finger, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. "I was saying to your beautiful wife that we could have our very own private party here ..."

They both look at me, gauging my reaction. I move inside the room from the doorway and sit down slowly on the single seat that faces the couch. I say nothing. Seeing this, they both look at each other.

"What a pretty girl you are," he whispers in her ear, his hot breath on her neck. "Your skin is so smooth and soft." She giggles and he slowly and lightly kisses her neck. She sighs a little with a gentle moan. With confidence now, his left hand moves up to dresses' cup of her left breast, and slowly and lightly, he runs his hands over it as his kisses move up to her ear, and he whispers again, "They feel so real. I think we should check and see. Sexy girl."

Her nipples are pointing out of the silky dress. Fuck, they're hard. Again, she moans gently, and his left hand to more fully feels her left breast, occasionally circling her hard nipples ever so lightly with his fingers, teasing them with his attention. She sighs, and he returns to kissing the nape of her neck.

"I'm going to ease your beautiful breasts out of this dress, Sally. Slowly. One by one," he says confidently.

His sweaty hand slides up the silky material, and my heart almost stops as his index finger snakes into the left cup of her dress and begins to pull it down, gradually. It seems an age watching it slip down over her left breast. She's teased me for so long, coming over for tea in short cropped tops and skimpy shorts, and I can't help but look and stare. Reaching that point of no return, that critical mass, it slides over her nipple. The cup of the dress disappears and Sally gasps as her left breast practically pops out bouncing slightly. The old man's eyes light up. Her breast is pale with large areolas. Her nipples are mouth wateringly hard. It's so wrong. I'm sure Jane didn't mean for this to happen, and I feel guilty about watching and not saying anything.

Breathing heavily, Sally's wide eyes watch as Peter's kisses snake down her neck to her left breast. Her left hand moves up and holds his head, eager for his touch, while he licks his lips and runs them over that beautiful nipple. Eyes closed slightly now, her head tilts back as she gently bites her bottom lip. He licks her hard nipple, flipping it up and down with his tongue. She moans softly. His sweaty face looks up at her, its beetroot, almost beaming. She looks down at him, panting slightly, her drunken cheeks flushed with excitement. Taking a good look at her breast, his mouth engulfs her nipple, and he begins to gently suck her left tit. She pulls his head into her flesh begging for more attention.

"God, they feel so real. So soft," he says in-between his tender sucking. "They're perfect." His voice shakes with anticipation. "Gorgeous little buds you've got." He looks into her eyes. "Sexy girl." His mouth clamps on her left tit again, this time it's hungrier, more ravenous. Sally's head tilts back again, and I swear I see her eyes rolling as he slurps eagerly on it.

I can see his sweaty left hand running up and down her thigh moving ever higher and higher. She's moaning softly now as his hand runs up to and disappears under the dress. His hungry mouth continues to feast on her breast. He sucks hard and pulls his lips away pulling out the nipple. He holds it there, then lets it go, causing a pop to echo around the room. It bounces excitedly, and then he nibbles it lightly with his teeth. Sally moans loudly. He returns to her breast, slightly more roughly, and with vigour.

His right hand is now pulling the cup down on her breast on the right side, while he continues sucking her left breast. His sweaty thumb slips in and all three of us watch with fascination as the material stretches over her breast. Her areola comes into view; the silky material stretches over her hard nipple causing it to be pulled down. Sally is panting more and more in short gasps as her breast is fully teased out. Still pulling the dress cup down slowly, the nipple all of a sudden pops up and her right breast suddenly springs into view. It bounces happily, almost eager as the dress' cup slips off her breast.

"Ohhhhh ..." she breathes, raggedly.

His right hand cups her right breast, his finger slowly and lightly feeling the soft flesh of the underside. Sliding his hand up, he squeezes and then tweaks her hard nipple, rolling it between the sweaty fingers of his right hand while he continues to suck the left one.

He lifts his head up and whispers in her ear, "Let's see how damp your panties are now."

With his left hand under her dress, her legs ease apart, and he moves his hand up further and further. She rests her feet nicely on the small table in front of the couch as she opens up for him. He gently moves her dress up to the top of her hips, showing her off to me. She's got matching blue satin panties on. His hand cups her pussy gently and rubs it through the thin material. He flashes me a look to gauge my reaction. The atmosphere is so sexually charged, I dare not say anything. Sally doesn't even look at me. She's lost in the moment. He grins like a cat at me and moves back to kissing and sucking her left breast.

"Oh ... you're so wet, aren't you, my naughty little thing?" Peter says excitedly, rubbing her pussy and watching her reactions as she surrenders to him. Her knees are relaxed, opened up, welcoming his attentions. I see him manoeuvre her blue satin panties to the side, and he slips a sweaty finger in. I swear, I see him shaking as he starts to rub her pussy. "I'm going to get your pussy so wet and ready for my cock."

Sally moans gently to his touch and his dirty talk. She turns her head slightly to the side and moans softly. He watches as his hands touch her nipples and again kisses her neck.

"Beautiful nipples ..." he whispers, almost groaning.

I can see him alternate his attention to her pussy. He keeps rubbing her clit, then slips a finger in her for a few seconds, then returns to her clit. He alternates this for what seems ages. Her knees are almost level with her hips. She's opened herself completely, such is the state of her excitement. She's moaning louder with every passing moment. Sally's face is flushed as he continues rubbing her, kissing her nipples, and tweaking those fucking gorgeous tits.

"Your pussy feels so good ... Let's get these lovely panties of yours out of the way, shall we?"

Sally lifts up her bum gently from his knee. He slides her panties over her thighs without protest, and they fall to the floor. She lays back, slightly relaxing on him, and his fingers return to her pussy as she spreads her legs. She looks so wet, her lips pouting with arousal as he focuses on her. Within a few more minutes, her moans have become whimpers and soft cries. They get more intense as her hips begin to move in time with his fingers moving up and down, in and out, and side to side.