Boss's Hostile Takeover of My Wife

On Friday evening when I got home, Carol was clearly troubled. "Jack called me today," she said. "He told me that he reserved us a room for Saturday night at the hotel where the party is."

"For 'us'?" I asked.

"Well, he did mention that it was close to 'his' room. So it seems we have our own room this time," Carol replied.

Carol paused like there was more that she didn't want to tell me. "What else did he say?"

"Well, he told me not to worry about what to wear. That my dress would be waiting for us in the hotel."

"So he shopped for you."

"It seems so," Carol said in a wavering voice, knowing Jack's taste in women's clothing.

"Well, I've seen what a lot of women wear to these Christmas parties. Extreme cleavage and tight dresses is common. So you shouldn't stand out too much if it's something inappropriate," I said. But we both got quiet.

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We made arrangements for an overnight sitter Saturday night, and checked into the hotel at about 4:00 PM, two hours before cocktails. Carol wore an older dress just in case, and when we checked into the room there was no package at the front desk, and no clothing in our room. At six we decided to go downstairs for cocktails. But just as we were about to leave the hotel room, there was a knock on the door. It was Jack. He was holding a large shopping bag. I reluctantly let him in.

"I have to run," Jack said. "I have to meet our guests now. But I have something for Carol to wear." Jack handed Carol the bag. The bag contained one large box, which looked like it might contain a dress; one shoe box; and a couple of smaller gift boxes.

"I had the clerk help me pick out the accessories so they'd match," Jack said. "Neil, why don't you come downstairs with me now? Carol can change and meet up with us. Please hurry, Carol."

Jack took my arm and led me out the door before I could comment. But at least Jack was leaving with me.

At the banquet hall downstairs, Jack and I got drinks, and Jack took off to greet guests. I hooked up with a couple of my co-workers, Gary and Dave, and their wives, and looked around at the arriving people. I noticed that several of the women were wearing things showing cleavage and showing leg; things that I never would have let Carol wear anywhere, much less at a company function. Specifically, some of the young single women wore short skirts, and a couple of the sales rep's trophy wives sported low cut dresses.

Fifteen minutes into small talk, Dave's wife asked, "Where's Carol, Neil."

"There she is," said Gary.

Everybody looked over at Carol as she entered the room. Everybody got silent.

Carol wore a light blue halter dress. The fabric was a plain pattern, thin, and clinging. The dress was long, hemmed below mid calf, and had a slit that went high up her left front thigh, almost to her hip.

That's the summarization. The devil was in the details.

The first eye-catching thing was that the halter top was extremely narrow. It was tied in the back at her neck, and the front was just straps that went all the way down to her waistband, perhaps not much more than three inches wide over her breasts. Too narrow for Carol's large frame and large breasts. So there was cleavage all the way down her chest, and not just a little glimpse. Inches and inches of Carol's breasts were on display. And on the sides, a lot of her tits were hanging out. I could easily see the slope of her large mature breasts at the side. Carol's breasts jiggled as she walked, and her nipples were sticking out through the thin fabric. Carol's areolas are pretty large, and they were probably barely covered by the halter. Then when she got closer, I realized that I could actually see the silhouette of her areolas right through the thin material!

On the bottom in front, the fabric clung tight to her stomach and hips. I could easily see her panty lines, even the waistband, which was low and dipped down in the middle just a little. At least she was wearing undergarments. I wondered if they were bikini, or thongs.

When Carol walked, her skirt slit fell open, exposing all of her long left thigh, past the top of her flesh-colored nylon, to the bare flesh above it. I looked for a garter belt and suspenders, but saw none, which would have been obvious and bulgy through the tight thin dress. She was apparently wearing "thigh highs," hose that held themselves up, a band of darker lace capping the hose. A bright blue garter, the kind a bride would wear and throw, peeked out.

Vance's wife, who was at last year's Christmas party, stopped Carol to say high, and Carol turned around to greet her. That's when I confirmed that Carol was wearing a thong. The panty lines were very easy to see, and the dress's fabric clung to Carol's two shapely butt globes. Carol's back was completely bare, except for where the halter tied behind her neck.

When Carol resumed walking in my direction, I noticed her stiletto heeled shoes. Carol wasn't unaccustomed to wearing high heels, but it wasn't something the busy mom did often. They seemed to make her bounce when she walked.

Carol joined me with Gary and Dave and their wives. Their wives looked Carol up and down, looked at each other, and gave expressions of un-approval at her dress. But their husbands clearly enjoyed my wife's skimpy dress, grinning as they talked to her chest. Carol kept glancing down at her own chest, and kept adjusting the halter straps as if she were afraid that they'd slip. But just about everything other than her areolas were already out in the open, and THEY were quite visible through the faberic. As I stood at her side, the halter fabric was stretched tight enough over her breasts that there was a gap under her breast, where the material tented out. I could see all the way through each halter strap to the other side, which exposed a lot of the bottoms of her breasts.

I asked Carol if she wanted a drink, and she said, "Yes." Then she whispered, "I think I'm going to have to drink a whole lot to get through this night. I feel as naked as I did at the beach. And we KNOW a lot of these people!"

I could only give her an assuring nod. Yes, I know a LOT of these people. I have to spend forty hours a week with them. It would be hard to live this down.

When I waited at the bar for drinks, Gary and Dave and their wives moved on, and Carol was talking to two of the senior vice presidents, whose wives weren't with them; Mel, a short, slender, bald, older Jewish man, and Vipal, a chubby bald Indian man. Mel's eyeballs were nearly at Carol's chest level, and he studied her through the bottom part of his bifocals. I noticed other men checking out Carol as they walked or stood by her. She was exposing too much from all angles.

I joined Carol, and she downed her drink quickly. Jack finally wandered by, and gave Carol a hug and kept his hand on her back while checking her body out. He introduced Carol to his son Brad from his first marriage. I'd seen Brad around the company. He was eighteen years old, had just graduated from high school in the spring, and was in his first year of college at some party school. Like Jack, Brad was short and thin, and had a real snotty smirk all of the time. This past summer, Jack brought him in to work at the office. He didn't seem to do much but hang around and crudely hit on the younger girls as well as older women. I once heard one of the mature admins make a comment about Brad "Undressing me with his eyes." Which seemed to be what he was doing to my wife at the moment. But Jack and Brad quickly moved on to other guests.

We decided to find our assigned seats. Jack wasn't sitting at our table. He sat with bigger honchos. At our round table in the middle of the room were the people I worked with. It included my co-workers Gary and Dave, and their wives; and our Human Resources director Vance and his wife. Gary and Dave were just regular guys, about my age. Vance was the guy that dealt with Jack with our insurance policy, the one that told me that our claim was denied. He was also the guy that made up the seating assignments. Interesting that he ended up sitting next to Carol.

Carol struggled sitting down in her tight long skirt, and it was impossible for her to keep her slit closed. Her skirt was open all the way up her thigh, exposing the lacy top of her left hose and blue garter, and there was nothing she could do except to try to stay hidden under the table. I sat on her right, but Vance on her left was checking out her bare leg. As people got seated at our round table, it just seemed to me that everybody was staring at Carol's chest. Each time that Carol shrugged her shoulders or reached for a glass, her breasts bobbled and her halter top shifted, and she was continuously adjusting the top to attempt to keep her breasts covered. But she had downed three drinks already and was working on her second glass of dinner wine, and was starting to get sloppy.

The first time I saw that her areola was sticking out of her strap at the side, it was just a peek of the edge. Carol quickly recovered. But then I saw some areola on her left breast, on the inside. Everybody else was staring, and certainly saw some of her slips. I couldn't say anything or touch her to bring her exposure to her attention without drawing even more attention to it. So with every slip, I just had to agonize through it. But as I sipped my dinner wine, I realized that my groin tingled whenever I saw one of the men staring at my wife's exposed breasts.

As dinner moved on, it seemed that there was always a part of one of her areolas sticking out someplace. This close, everybody at our table could see the silhouette of her areolas right through her halter. But when her dark parts fell out the front or sides, it was really obvious. I could see some of the men at other tables across from us looking over at Carol.

There was a professional photographer going from table to table, taking our pictures. When he got to our table, we leaned in and smiled. Vance put his right hand around Carol's bare back, and right after the camera flash, got a little reach-around feel of the side of her right breast. Vance's wife didn't notice, but I did. Late into the dinner, apparently the wine-fueled Vance couldn't stand just looking at Carol's exposed thigh at close range anymore. I caught him adjusting his napkin on his lap, and getting a quick palm of Carol's bare thigh above her hose.

As dessert was served, the speeches started. Carol and I had our backs to the podium and the speakers. She had to turn to her left to look at Jack and the other speakers. Her legs were out from under the table and tablecloth, and half the room could now see her bare thigh and bright blue garter. She was still having trouble with her halter, and more of her tits hung out at the side, all the way to her areolas. She crossed her left leg over her right, which only made her long left thigh look sexier. Many of the men were looking at Carol rather than the podium speakers.

When the dessert and speeches were done, a Dee Jay started playing slow ballads, and the dance floor was cleared at the front. At previous company functions, this is where I usually went off to network with the other employees and left Carol to chat with the other wives and a few of my co-workers. This time my intention was to stay close to Carol.

But it wasn't easy. Co-workers kept pulling me away for shop talk. Then Vance asked me to help him with some Holiday bonus envelopes that he was in charge of distributing to everybody. So I ended up away from Carol, and often out in the hall.

After returning from the hallway, I spotted Carol headed to the bar for a drink. She took her drink over to a back table to rest, clearly not in the mood for socializing or standing out exposed. Poor choice. Sitting in the back in the dark, Jack found her, and sat next to her on her left. While still trying to find various employees to hand bonus envelopes to, from a safe distance I got to the side, and could see Jack's hand up Carol's skirt at the slit, and from the angle it was likely that he not only had her crotch, but was inside her panties and playing with her bare pussy.

While Carol got her pussy played with, Vipal and Mel and Rick came over and sat down at the same table. It likely became obvious what Jack was doing with my wife under the table, as Carol seemed to be reacting. Her eyes were blinking, her legs were spread wide, and she was writhing a little. The other three men just sat at the table and watched the show, talking to Jack and each other.

Carol's eyes were skyward and fluttering, her jaw clenched firmly. Then she laid her head down on the table as Jack's right hand wiggled around. I watched her shudder through an orgasm from Jack's finger fucking while surrounded by my company's management.

Jack moved on, wiping his fingers on the table cloth. Vipal, the chubby older bald Indian, took Jack's chair, and his right hand disappeared under the table. He was even less subtle about playing with my wife's pussy. Not only that, he reached around with his left hand, and found her left tit, and groped it inside of her halter, as Carol hunched forward to try to hide the tit feel from others.

Mel sat next to Carol on her right, and not-so-subtly reached in the side of her halter and fondled her right tit, while chatting with her like nothing was happening. Carol sat silently and squirmed while the two dirty old men groped her under, and above, the table. Vipal, hunched over, his bald head sweating, grabbed Carol's left hand, and placed it on his cock over his slacks. He rubbed her hand until she took over, running her half-opened palm down the length of his cock through his pants.

Carol threw her head back like the fondling was having an affect, and I suspect she had at least a mini-orgasm.

I had to leave the hall to track down a few more employees to deliver envelopes. When I returned, I spotted Carol on the dance floor, slow dancing with Jack. He held her tight. He had his right hand low on her bare back. As she danced, her thong was visible through her skirt, and her bare butt cheeks jiggled. Her tits were hanging out the side of her halter. Jack tried to be subtle and kept Carol's back to the DJ where only the DJ could see her rear, and Jack felt her butt over her tight skirt. It was subtle, but not that subtle. If I could see it, so could a lot of the other men and women sitting and standing around watching the handful of dancing couples.

Jack managed to slide his hand up Carol's bare back and side, and got a little side action on her exposed tit. Even the other dancers could see this.

The professional photographer was now snapping shots of the dancers. I wondered how many shots of Jack groping my wife he'd get.

Jack finished the song before leading Carol by the hand to his table. Mel, the little Jewish VP, sprang up and escorted Carol back out to the dance floor. He leaned in close, and got a face full of Carol's cleavage. He always seemed like a nice little man to me, but now he turned into a dirty little man as he palmed the taller woman's butt cheeks over her flimsy skirt. I could see Carol's eyes widen, unsure what to do. When she did nothing, Mel slid his right hand inside of Carol's skirt slit, and felt her bare ass under her dress. I could see Carol's bright blue thong and her blue garter as the old man groped her butt. Then he leaned forward, and buried his face right into her cleavage. Carol jiggled a little, but couldn't shake off the little Jewish guy. I could see her areolas flashing in and out of her halter.

Vipal, the old bald Indian VP, cut in. Having watched what the others did, he got even more brazen. He ground his leg into her crotch, forcing Carol to spread her legs and expose the side of her panty, and after a two-handed butt grab, he went right for her tits. He started with his right hand along the side of her bare tit, but then just slid his hand inside the halter top from the side, and groped her bare tit. Then his right hand reached back around and slid down her bare back. As Carol turned a little I could see that his thumb was hooked into the waistband of her backless dress. The next time Carol turned my way a bit, Vipal's hand was completely inside of Carol's skirt, and placed right over her butt crack.

Vance found me and handed me more envelopes to distribute, and I had to circulate around the hall and the lobby looking for people, leaving my wife at the "hands" of my co-workers on the dance floor.

When I got back to Carol, the DJ was playing fast music. Some of the older couples got out on the dance floor, and a lot of the younger single employees, too. Carol was out on the floor, fast dancing with Jack. It didn't take much shaking for Carol's areolas to come on display. She tried to fix herself as she danced, but eventually she resigned, and allowed one side of her halter to expose her dark areolas, and then the other side.

She usually didn't put nearly so much height and gyration into her fast dancing. I wondered if Jack told her to put on a show, or if she was just drunk. Perhaps both. Her nearly-naked tits bobbled wildly, causing a lot of dancers and spectators to watch her. Her heaving jugs flew up high and crashed down again, wobbling around, sometimes synchronized with each other, but sometimes going in different directions.

Carol danced with other willing partners, and sometimes single men just moved in close and danced near her for the pleasure of watching her. When she would spread her legs wider, her skirt hiked up at the slit, and the front of her bright blue panty thong was visible, all the way to her crotch.

When Gary cut in for a dance, Carol's nipple caught the edge of her halter, and exposed her right nipple for a while. It was only when a couple of drunken young girls on the dance floor noticed and screamed, causing everybody to look, that Carol became aware of her nip slip, and stuffed her nipple back in her top. There were perhaps twenty people on the dance floor, and dozens more sitting and standing around, nearly all of whom probably got multiple looks of my wife's exposed jiggling breasts, big dark areolas, and long nipples.

I had to leave the room, but returned as quickly as I could, and Carol was still on the dance floor. From across the room, I could see that one or the other of Carol's nipples were usually on display as her hands were in the air, thrusting her chest out, her feet spread and her knees were bent. From time to time she'd reach down and make a quick attempt to cover herself. But for most of the time now, her tits were just exposed and flat-out on display.

I stood near the bar, and watched, as nearly everybody in my company looked at my wife's naked breasts.

A half hour later, Carol was still out on the floor. Most of the older and married couples had left the dance floor, some even having gone home already. It was mostly the younger, single, and drunk people on the dance floor with Carol. The bar was closed.

I saw Jack stand up from his table and say something to the DJ. Then he walked over to Carol on the dance floor.

The DJ started a slow song. It was late; perhaps Jack was trying to wind down the crowd. The busboys were clearing the tables. The bartenders were packing up and counting their tips. But as Jack took Carol for another slow dance, a number of other couples did the same, and the dance floor was somewhat well populated with six or so couples.

I moved in closer, standing off to the side by a column. Jack held Carol tight, and was getting more feels in. He was also grinding her pretty aggressively, his thigh rubbing her crotch, her thigh rubbing his crotch; dry humping each other in s scissors position. The song ended, but Jack stayed with Carol, an as the DJ started a second slow song.