Emma's Stiletto Seduction Pt. 20

Interestingly, I was near the top of a few lists, my entrance and appearance this evening had certainly not gone unnoticed.

"It's the leather skirt and boots" that does it for me said Jeremy, a 58 yr old married man from HR.

Only one member of the group didn't know I was trans, and he had put me right at the top of his "to shag" list this evening. The other men took delight in enlightening him.

He confirms he "will not change his list."

They laugh and click their glasses together, like they were 18 year old teenagers again.

"You are friends with them David," said one group member, "right?"

"Yes I suppose I am." Admitted David and correcting their pronouns, "_she_ lives close to me."

"What's she like then?" Asked the group, ever more intrigued now.

"She's actually really nice. Quiet, but very easy to talk to once you get to know her." David responded.

"I haven't noticed her much." Said Tim, a 50 something divorced man from HR.

"I think she tries not to be noticed much." Admitted David. "Not everyone, y'know, understands how difficult it must be."

"I've never seen one before tonight." Tim added.

"You probably have seem many transwomen," David interjected, "you just didn't realise."

"I didn't know before you told me." James said. "She's better than most of the birds here."

It became the typical conversation men have, heterosexual men, when confronted by an attractive trans-woman.

The media, their friends, their hang-ups tell their brain that they shouldn't fancy the transwoman. But their hormones, their very physiology seems hardwired to ignore this advice.

None would admit it, not to their work colleagues, but their semi-erections and body chemistry betrayed them.

My group of increasingly intoxicated women have now upped the ante, in ways similar to the men.

"Which one of them would you fuck, suck or marry?" Was our current topic.

And then it was my turn to answer.

"Men or women?" Said the confident blonde, not shy in coming forward.

"I refuse to rule anyone out!" Was my response, and they laugh once more.

"Me neither." The blonde agrees and smiles at the other women.

"You should choose one to snog." A voice suggests, and in their current level of candidness they all agree.

" I Dare you, Em." Says the blonde, handing me the mistletoe.

I take it from their hand, the group of men now inching ever closer to the group of women...

It would have to be David, it was always going to be David. I hoped that he would be okay with this.

The men watched me bridge they gap between them and the women, their eyes straining to see every inch of me in the half-light.

Even in 3" kitten heeled black leather boots, David towered above me by 8 or 9 inches. I strained to hold the twig of mistletoe above him. His colleagues watched on, intrigued.

Davids' reputation in the workplace had been exactly what you would expect it to be. The straight-laced business-focussed divorcee, although he wasn't exactly divorced yet. They expect him to refuse, or to peck me on the cheek at best.

But he placed his hands on my hips to steady me as I reached up at him on tiptoes. He leant into me and placed his lips on mine.

It was natural for this to turn into a snog, and it did. For just a few seconds our tongues explored each other, and then we pulled apart.

It was not what anyone from either group had been expecting. They had placed their most conservative male up against the most odd-but-interesting woman in the group. The end result was a most sensual experience.

I remained for a brief moment in the male group, and found myself face to face with another man, leaving me with mistletoe above him

He pulled me in and kissed me, in a clumsy way, his hands finding my leather clad bottom.

I pull away, but not making a big deal of it. And give David a quick assuring look as the girls rally around and playfully take me back into their custody. They hug me tightly and put my glass back in my hand

I look back to the male group, shyly, putting my hair back over my ear and take a sip of my cocktail through a straw.

Their eyes watch my red lips envelop it.

The sounds of, "I'd definitely shag her", started a conversation in the men that was universally agreed with.

Over time our two groups merged, with the women getting lots of attention from the men. The reputation of the 'office party' starting to kick into overdrive.

David, although happy with conversation, remained on the fringes, looking on from afar. I tried my best to reassure him with looks and smiles. He knew that whatever happens, I would be going home with him.

As the evening wore on, a few of the older males would "dance with me", which seemed to be a code for an occasion that allowed their erect penis to rub itself into me from behind.

It did not help that when I danced energetically, my black leather skirt rode up revealing stocking tops and suspenders. This only encouraged them more.

It wasn't long before one of the men whispered into my ear, suggesting he take me into a back room and "fuck me". I must admit that me sitting on his lap probably brought out the worst in him.

I certainly didn't want to start gossip more than I already had, so I politely declined, and removed myself from his lap, his erect penis and planted a kiss on his cheek.

The group was steadily forming itself into couples. The bonds of marriage temporarily being neglected for a quick feel or snog. I doubted that anyone here would really have had sex in the office with a colleague, but the thought of it being possible was certainly providing extra energy as the evening became night.

As I looked over the balcony to the dance floor below, another man tried his luck. I assumed they knew I was trans, but they didn't seem to care either way.

He positioned himself behind me, and placed both of his arms over mine, taking hold of the rail.

"I'm not much of a dancer." He said, leaning in to whisper into my ear.

I felt him clamp his body tightly to my own, his crotch forcing itself into my bottom as my own pressed against the wooden bannister.

Men know what they are doing in this situation. In a normal office environment if a man did this to a woman they would be up in-front of HR on a misconduct charge and probably be sacked. But this was the 'office party'. A situation where inhibitions had seemingly rules had been relaxed. A throwback to the 1970s where women were objectified and employed as 'dollybird' secretaries.

But I wasn't like the other women here, physically or mentally.

Up until I met David I thought my role in life was to please men, sexually. To do what they wanted me to do, and let them do what they wanted to do. To be there submissive.

That gene, that had been developed, nurtured and encouraged throughout my life was still here in my very DNA. It was only being with David, and loving him, that prevented me from taking things further with others who wanted me.

It did not mean that I couldn't have fun though, and it looked like David was getting his own form of attention from the blond who had now turned her focus to him. She stood facing him with one hand on his chest, her long fingernails trying to get her claws into him.

I knew the girls saw him as a challenge. A quiet and well spoken gentleman, who wouldn't be able to be seduced into a quickie at the office party... perhaps they witnessed the passionate kiss he had given me earlier, and started to realise that there could be more to the 'quiet ones' than first appears. Little did they know, but their thoughts would be absolutely correct.

I loved him getting attention, the world should see what I see in him, and everything that his wife refused to.

Although David was destracted, the man behind me was certainly focussed now, his hands first wandering to my waist and then lower to rest on the waist of my leather skirt.

His thumbs hooked themselves inside it, and he slowly moved them around my waist to peel the material from my flesh.

As his hands found the front of my skirt, his thumbs hooked themselves invisibly around my hidden suspender straps and grasped them tightly.

"I love the way you dress." He whispered, loudly, "It has turned me on."

"That explains why I can feel your dick against my arse then." I reply, taking another sip of my cocktail.

Even when men make the first move on me, unless it has been an arranged date online for sex, they are usually taken aback by my ability to cut straight to the chase. They expect women to be shy creatures, that they have to seduce rather than the sexual creatures that they are, with hormones, feelings and chemistry running through their veins too.

His fingers immediately stopped massaging themselves into the front of my crotch over my leather skirt, my forthrightness startling him.

I lowered myself a little, and pushed my bottom back against his groin, running the trace of his erect penis up and down my arse crack.

He pulled back in astonishment, clearly not expecting his clumsy attempt at groping me to go this way. They expect me to be defenceless to them, to let them paw their hands all over me and then perform the ultimate act of submission. Ironically he didn't know that is exactly what I wanted, but something that I couldn't have with him.

As I turned around and placed my lips around the cocktail straw in my glass, I saw the panic in his eyes. I pursed my lips and gave him the best seductive smile I could muster, as he quickly backed away... thoughts running through his mind of what would happen if his wife found out that he got a blowjob at the christmas party.

"Best run away now," I thought to myself and smiled over at David who had been watching the whole thing unfold. He chuckled to himself, pretending to laugh and pay attention to the blond woman who was becoming increasingly frustrated with his lack of reciprocation.

I walk over to the bar to get my last drink of the night, champagne, and find that there is a person waiting in the queue behind me.

"Make that two glasses," David asks the server, "please."

"You were definitely in there." I say to David, handing him his glass by the stem and nodding to the blond woman who was now approaching her next victim,

"I think you were too." David replied, "Until you scared him off."

"Isn't it odd that confident men are worried by small submissive women." I asked innocently.

"He got away lightly." David responded smiling, "A lucky escape."

"Someone is ready for a tongue lashing!" I exclaimed.

David knew his response immediately, "Shall I join the queue?"

It had been a successful night for us both. My full outing as Emma had definitely been a hit. But I knew that I would have to go back to dressing down in the office in the New Year, alcohol lowers the ingrained inertia towards transwomen and I knew that I should continue to blossom at work at my original pace.

As David and I find ourselves in a dark corner, the unrelenting mixture of sex hormones and alcohol were starting to kick in for us both. We had both been turned on by the action of others towards us, but neither being able to take advantage. We were saving ourselves for each other.

David took my glass from me, and placed them onto the table beside us. Without any need for mistletoe, he took my head in his hands and leaned in to kiss me once more.

We were not being dared to do this by our colleagues this time, we shared a kiss, thinking we were alone and unseen....

"Do you want to go?" I asked David.

"I booked a car earlier, the driver has just texted me." David whispered, "He is waiting outside whenever we are ready."

"Let's sneak out." I whispered, and took his hand in mine as we pushed through a set of heavy doors.

My metal stiletto heels flooded the concrete stairwell with popping and scraping as we hurried down the fire escape of the mezzanine level. I picked up my jacket from the impromptu cloakroom that had been converted from a meeting room. I was still hot from the night, but pushing the fire door-come-exit soon changed things. We were quickly reminded that it was late on a cold winters evening. The noise of the party was now in the distance, the doors were closed and the muffled sounds were having difficulty escaping.

The moon was subdued by the clouds. There was no rain, but it felt like a north wind was about to bring the sharpness of winter down upon us.

Ever the gentlemen, David helped me into my long black leather jacket. The alcoholic drinks were now catching up with me and I was glad that I was only in 3" stiletto heels. My jacket felt cold against my skin, for a few seconds at least, when David Put his hand around my waist to steady me. I grabbed back at him tightly.

There was only one cab waiting, and it was ours. The driver got out and held the door open for me, hoping that I wouldn't be talking advantage of the £30 extra charge if I was sick in the back seat. But he need not have worried. Yes, I was pleasantly tipsy, but only that.

The taxi driver gave David a knowing look. First struck by the sight of me, and then a cheeky nod and a wink to David.

It was the hidden "You are in there, mate." that males seem to have a sixth sense of. And the driver was right, David would be in there.

Flirting with guys old enough to be my father this evening had been thrilling, and although I'd had many drinks purchased for me, I still remained turned on.

It wasn't long before the bear hug that I had applied to David in the back seat turned into a kiss. His mouth, his chin, his lips, his neck. I wanted it all.

And I reached down, I couldn't resist, my inhibitions were lowered. My left hand slowly unzipped his trousers, but the sound was clearly heard by both men who were in the car. David's cock was already hard, and I gripped the shaft tightly, wanking it through his boxer shorts.

My thumb found a wet patch of cloth where his precum has already started to leak out.

As I Kissed David's neck, I allowed myself to fall down his chest, until my face was in his lap, his hard cockhead now resting against me.

I pulled the waistband of his shorts down, and his erection sprung into view. The privacy screen and my head blocked the drivers view in the rear view mirror, but David could tell he was glancing back at him every few seconds. His eyes darting between the empty road and the mirror.

Silently I took Davids cock into my mouth. I thought I was being secretive, that no one would know. But the bobbing of my head was now clear to the driver. He knew that I was blowing his passenger in the back seat of his cab.

"Don't worry mate," The driver said, "I've seen it all before."

David caught his eye in the mirror, and they exchanged a primal nod.

"Enjoy yourself." The driver replied.

I wasn't listening to the conversation anymore, I was oblivious to my surroundings. I was just enjoying taking Davids cock head into my mouth and sucking it. I enjoyed making an "O" with my mouth and lips, and rubbing them back and forwards over the ridge of his bell.

"It's always the older ones, mate," The driver informed David, "and they will only do it when they are drunk!"

"Not this one," David replied, the alcohol in his veins removing some of his usual inhibitions too.

"Really?"

"Yes, she once sucked me off 4 times in one day."

"Wow!" The driver replied, "Really?"

"Yes, she can't get enough." David paused, thrilled, "And she swallows."

I was only part listening, trying to concentrate on sucking Davids erection to the best of my current ability. Men discussing me in this way only encouraged me more.

"Can I go next then?" The driver asks, "It is the season of giving...."

David is lost in thought, his hand wandering down to the top of my head and gently matching the rhythm with which I am desperately trying to take his 7 inch shaft with.

He quickly imagined the scenario that could unfold in-front of him. His girlfriend sitting on the back seat, door of the car wide open with two dicks in her mouth. Sharing her attention from one cock to the other. Greedily bringing them both to orgasm. Her face would soon be covered in two loads of jizz. His own cum mixed with the drivers.

He could watch as his girlfriend swallowed it all, her fingers wiping any stray cum into her mouth. Then tongue cleaning the bell ends as he knew she loves to do, with them still proudly erect in front of her face.

But we were together now, a true couple. We had just kissed at the office Christmas party and left in a taxi together. I had been the top of many colleagues' 'to shag' list.

David was fighting the contradictory thoughts. He wanted me to himself, and yet also found that the past experiences of sharing me with others still excited him...

"Emma," He asked, "do you want to suck another cock tonight?"

The driver now knew my name, where I lived and where I worked.

But I didn't respond to David.

I just wanted to satisfy David with my mouth. I just wanted to make by boyfriend cum. I just wanted to give myself to him.

"Sorry looks like you are out of luck, for this evening anyway." David replied, and smiled to himself.

"Pity." The driver replied, "She's really going for it."

"Oh she sucks cock like no one else." David replied, only encouraging me further.

David Paused.

"It's why I love her."

He took his hand and combed back my black bobbed hair from my face, and any remaining strands of hair clinging to my lipstick. He tucked it behind my ear, and noticed that my gold hooped earring was not in place.

David quickly glanced around, he couldn't see it. Had I lost it at the party?

The taxi driver looked back into the mirror once more and noticed that David had changed the situation, and that he could now clearly see a dick disappearing inside his passengers' cockslut mouth.

He nodded in the mirror as he pulled his cab up to the house we shared, parking across the driveway entrance.

This was one of many things that had been captured by our security cameras this evening...

David opened the car door, wrestling his cock from my mouth, leaving me panting for breath.

"She is a keeper, that one." Said the driver.

I crawled off the seat following my boyfriends cock, that he was trying to keep covered by his jacket.

Again, right here, right now was our mantra.

We would deal with the consequences later.

David knew I was his.

And that he wanted me right back.