Christmas Function

This is a sequel to the story Spanish contract: Jeff. Although not necessary, it may enhance enjoyment if that story is read first, thanks.

*

Jeff played with his spoon. Most of his friends were too smart to go to the company Christmas party, and Jeff was trying to remember why he came.

The seating plan had put Venessa in front of him the whole evening, which was ironic. Jeff had seen very little of her since the business trip to Spain. The memory of that episode had been a weight around his neck in the intervening months. It had been too long since he had seen her, she was always out on the road. All his rehearsed conversation openings had shrivelled up. She sat with her back to him, and never turned around. But at least she was wearing a satin dress cut with observers in mind and she did have a nice back.

Gill was out tonight too, planted firmly on the top table with her father, the big boss. It had been more difficult with her. Working in the same building, she was a daily reminder. Every time he saw her sashay through the office, he tensed up, she tensed up, it was a horrible Mexican standoff, neither sure who had the most dirt on the other. Still, that was nothing compared to the cold sweats he endured during meetings with her old man. It had been a long, long three months.

At least the Spanish adventure had removed the stone covering Gill's real character, now he knew where her limits were set, and how they stretched after a few drinks. And she was drinking liberally tonight. It had not escaped Jeff's attention that she had a female friend along on her guest invite. The two of them were first to hit the dance floor as the tables were cleared. Amongst old the old timers in the company the two young girls stood out a mile. It was certainly not just Jeff who was looking at them a little too long as they energetically mixed it up to the cheesiest disco classics.

Jeff made his way to the bar to search out a whiskey to wash out the cheap wine the firm had generously donated to the tables. He had just picked it up when a hand slapped down on his shoulder.

"Jeff! Jeff. Mate. You've got a room."

Jeff turned. The wide eyes of the accounts manager met his.

"Yeah."

"Go on give us your room. I've driven. I was going to go home. Give us your key, mate. Come on."

"What for?" Jeff had not quite caught on.

"Mate." A nod. Another nod. Jeff followed and his eyes eventually found a young plump waitress who had been serving on them through the evening.

"Her?"

"What were the rooms? Fifty quid?"

"Sixty."

"Here's sixty quid then, take it."

A sweaty palm fumbled what looked like a lot less than sixty pounds into Jeff's jacket.

"Go on!"

The pathetic, sordid pleading was too much.

"Take it." Jeff offered him the plastic fob. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"You're a mate." A big slap on the back and he was gone.

"Like throw yourself out of the window." Jeff checked to see if anyone had heard him but he was by himself again. He turned back around, with his funds suddenly increased, he could do a lot of business at this bar, even in this overpriced hotel.

It was closing in on midnight when it dawned on Jeff that his key was not coming back. He was not sure if he had made any agreement about this detail when he had surrendered it. Going and finding it, would involve moving from the bar. He had moved from his spot only when necessary and as such had accomplished his main goal for the evening which was to not humiliate himself on the dance floor. There was no doubt who its new owners were. Gill and her friend were having the time of their lives as were any men sitting at the front tables. Gill's dress had not been designed to restrain the full contents and her little accomplice had a dress cut very short indeed, riding higher all the time. High enough to arouse curiosity about whether she was wearing underwear or not, but not so high as to completely display proof. Earlier in the evening they had picked a couple of guys out of the pack, but they danced with each other mostly. Jeff was keenly waiting for the slow numbers.

Venessa had slipped by him a few times, he had tried to look sober, but not really pulled it off. She had kept herself in conversation with the people who mattered. Everyone who didn't was watching the two girl show.

When the first slow song came on, Gill took the hand of her friend and they disappeared into the dark. It was a big disappointment.

Those who had driven were dispersing, those who had booked in at the hotel were taking to the stairs. Now the function was pretty much done and Jeff had a new problem to solve, where he was going to sleep.

Jeff trawled around the hotel. He gave his room a flypast, there did not seem to be any activity going on inside, but it was definitely locked. That left him temporarily homeless.

Jeff tramped though the hotel corridors. As he ascended the noise from downstairs slowly faded, it became quiet. Eventually there it was. A door ajar. Jeff peered inside. The light was off. He took a few steps over the threshold. There was no sign of life at all, no bags, the bed was still made, the wardrobe door slid back, showing a bare row of hangers.

Jeff had paid for a room and this was a room so it he thought it would do. He took his jacket off, slung it over the solitary chair then headed into the bathroom. There he removed his shirt and took a look at himself in the mirror. It didn't look good.

The silence was broken, then he heard it more clearly, someone was approaching. Two someones. The bathroom door had closed behind him. Jeff made it to the door but stopped himself opening it as two sets of footsteps stumbled inside the room.

The giggling gave it away instantly. It was Gill. Jeff had a second to declare himself and diffuse the situation. But he did not.

"Come on, Karen, it's empty."

Jeff was guessing that Karen was her friend.

"Why don't we go downstairs?"

"Shut up Karen, the party's over down there. We're up here."

"You're drunk, Gill."

"I know. And luckily for me, so are you."

There was some movement around the room and Jeff heard the bed bounce. His hand was on the bathroom door handle.

"Come on Karen, show me what you've got."

"I've got a pair of these."

The two of them broke into laughter.

"Ssshh. Sssshh." Karen made a futile attempt for calm, before they creased into more laughter.

Jeff's jacket was on the chair outside.

"Get them out again."

"Me. What about you?"

"Well, Karen, if it's my turn..."

Jeff could hear some shuffling. They would see his jacket soon. That was, if they didn't notice the light coming out from under the bathroom door first. He was never going to get away with this. If he was going to be discovered he had to be discovered now, before things went too far down the line. He took a deep breath and pressed down on the handle.

"Wait."

Jeff stopped.

"If we're going to have some fun, we should check whose room it is. Let's go down to reception. Come on, it'll be easy, we'll be back in a minute."

There was a groan from Gill, some more laughter, and the footsteps scampered out of the room. The bathroom door handle clicked back up into position. Jeff picked up his shirt and put it on and stepped outside. His jacket had slipped off and under the chair. That had helped. He put that on too. He was going to leave, he really was and he had sobered up, helped by the adrenaline still surging through him. But he saw the wardrobe open and empty. He took the sliding door in one hand and moved it back and forth. The door had narrow slats at intervals. It was a really bad idea. Really bad. But Jeff figured he had drunk enough to blame it on that, and he stepped inside.

The wardrobe was quite roomy, just a pile of spare blankets at one end. Jeff lined his eyes up with the slats. They were at a reasonable height, he had to crouch just a little, and so he stood there and waited. After a few minutes he sat there and waited. A further ten minutes and he put his head back on the blanket and waited some more.

*

There was a slam of a door, at least he thought it was a slam, Jeff could not be sure, but whatever it was had woken him up. The main light was now on in the room. It was piercing through the slats in the wardrobe door and making lines through the darkness in which he sat. Jeff did not feel as hidden as he had imagined he would be.

A slim shadow glided past the slats. There was a little noise, the sound of a bag being dropped on the floor maybe. And then someone sat on the bed.

Jeff inched as slowly as he could toward the slats in the door, raising himself gently up.

His eyes immediately located the new arrival. It was Venessa. She was sitting on the edge of the bed dressed only in her underwear, casually removing her heels. She made him nervous. Spying on Gill seemed like a fun idea. Spying on Venessa was serious business.

Venessa leant over to the bedside table and picked up the 'phone.

"This is room 212. My radiator is broken." It was at least 100 degrees in the wardrobe.

She put the receiver down. Jeff's view was not the best, did she run her hand up her body?

Jeff shifted gradually his weight. His head was precariously positioned amongst the wire coat hangers. Wire hangers on a metal rail, he had to be very still indeed.

Venessa prowled around the room. She ran her finger along the dresser. There was a knock at the door. Venessa sat down on the bed and slowly slipped her heels back on, and fastened the straps. Then she stood up and walked straight past the wardrobe, so close Jeff could smell her perfume. She opened the door and without saying a word walked back inside and sat on the bed. Jeff could see a shape in the doorway, it did not move at first, but after a little hesitation a young man decked out in a hotel blazer entered. He stopped at the foot of the bed.

Venessa was looking at her nails.

The young man was not sure about Venessa's state of dress, she herself seemed to have no problems about it at all. He continued on and over to the window where he put his hand on the radiator.

"It's on". He said. "Do you want it off.?"

"The radiator is not broken." Venessa said.

"Did you fix it?"

"I want you to close the door."

"Is the door broken?" The youth went back to the entrance and closed the door.

"Stand there."

"What's going on, Miss?"

Venessa stood up.

"I'm going to take the rest of my clothes off. And you are going to watch."

The porter did not say anything.

Venessa sat on the bed bending down, her hands worked at her heels.

"Would you like that?"

There was no response. Venessa looked up from her straps. The porter nodded. She slid the shoes to the floor stood back up and raised one foot to the bed. Jeff was a statue. She rolled the first stocking to her ankle and then pulled it off. She turned and repeated the act with the second. She stretched the stocking between her hands a few times, and examined her roommate, her face broke into a cat like smile.

"You look surprised. I thought this sort of thing happened all the time."

She unhooked her bra and dropped it on the bed, then she ran her hands from her shoulders, over her breasts and onto her hips, where her thumbs found the elastic of her panties.

"Excited?"

Jeff looked at the youth. He was dumbstruck. Jeff was excited enough for both of them.

Venessa pushed the underwear to the floor stepped out of it and sat on the bed crossing her legs. There was a silence so loud Jeff wanted to shout just to break it.

"Well?"

"You're beautiful."

He was dead right, but Venessa rolled her eyes as if he had given the wrong answer.

"You. Now it's your turn. Take your clothes off."

There was uncertainty.

"Now."

The porter leapt into action, his blazer hit the wardrobe door, Jeff flinched and heard the tingle of coat hangers around him like church bells, but the noise seemed lost in the fury of a hotel uniform being spread over the room floor.

"Slower". Venessa directed.

The disrobing abated a little until there were just shorts, he moved for Venessa.

"Stop." Venessa was firm and the young man froze. "Everything."

The shorts were fumbled to the ground and the man moved in again.

"What do you think you are doing?"

Jeff wasn't the only one confused.

"You will stand there with your hands behind your back. I'll be conducting events this evening."

Meekly the instructions were obeyed. His left hand whipped around behind his back and gripped his right wrist. Venessa looked her prize over.

"You'll have to do."

She leant forward and raised her hand to his cock, which was already making its way upwards. The porter was standing side on to Jeff, affording a perfect view as Venessa's index finger traced a line along the underside of the member before her fist closed around it. She started to work it deliberately up and down, it hardening all the time to her touch.

Jeff was desperate to get his own cock out. His uncomfortable position worsened by the rock developing in his trousers.

Venessa worked the young man completely stiff with her right hand, she uncrossed her legs, spreading them wide and her left hand wasted no time finding a home between them.

The porter momentarily brought his hands forward, but Venessa responded by ceasing activity.

"Surely you don't want me to stop?"

The porter resumed his position.

"We don't want to stop. Not when all of us are enjoying ourselves so much?"

The man nodded and Venessa pulled him forward by his stiff cock, close enough to bring her mouth into play. She sank her lips over his hood and lustily ducked her head into the task. Her breathing was becoming rapid, her other hand working precisely at her slit.

She was not the only one struggling to contain them self, Jeff's brow was running with sweat and he was rubbing himself though the fabric of his trousers as frantically as he dared, his own shorts dampening with leaking fluid. The porter was grimacing, it wouldn't be long for him.

Venessa pulled away.

"This is a good performance, don't you think." There was frenetic nodding.

Jeff's legs were cramping. A heady mixture of frustrated pleasure and pain coursing through him.

"Who do you think will come first?" Venessa asked as she dipped her head forward once more smothering the raging cock before her.

Jeff moved to get his left hand involved. As he did so he felt something brush past his elbow. Careful not to move too quickly he felt for it again. His hand closed around it. It was Venessa's dress, hanging beside him.

The porter couldn't hold on any longer, he tensed, his knees struggled to hold him upright as Venessa pumped him into her mouth. She thoroughly drained him, with long finishing strokes, then she pulled his member from her lips, pressing it over her chin and onto her neck leaving a fluid trail before she finally released it.

She swallowed deeply.

"You can go now."

The young man was in no state to argue. He shakily grabbed his clothes and stumbled out past the wardrobe, out into the corridor.

Jeff's mind was racing. She knew he was there. She must have seen him asleep on the wardrobe floor. He lowered himself as quickly as he could without making a sound. He lost sight of Venessa as he did so but he could hear her stand, and her shadow began to grow over the slats in the wardrobe door. He was desperately, silently, trying to reach his sitting position.

The door of the wardrobe slid open.

Jeff was lying as he had been earlier, at least as he thought he had been earlier. He was certainly not asleep, his heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it. He was still for what seemed like half an hour.

Venessa sighed.

"tut, tut, tut."

The door slid shut. The shadow evaporated from the slats and he could hear the bathroom door opening. A tap was turned on.

Jeff's wasn't sure if she had bought it. She just might have. With his sleep impression apparently a success he could move on to the next problem. How the hell was he going to get out of the room?