tagGroup SexShameless Christmas Party

Shameless Christmas Party


Sandra cursed as the car in front of her stopped for the red light, in her opinion far too conservatively. She was in a hurry, and had been so for a long time. Landing a job as an assistant lawyer at a small firm, specialized at environmental law, was the perfect opportunity, and more than she had dared to hope for fresh out of law school. Making a career out of doing something she believed in was a dream come true. Determined not to screw up, she worked long and hard to keep up.

Traffic started moving, but soon halted again.

"Fuck, I don't have time for this!" she yelled out, slamming her palm against the wheel in frustration.

She tried to calm herself by breathing deeply. How was it Christmas already? This was always a busy time of year, but with her new job it was more hectic than ever. She thought to herself that the exams the year before was nothing compared to this.

And to make it worse, one of her best friends had decided to get married during the holidays. Who plans a wedding in the middle of winter? Naturally, Sandra had been picked as the maid of honor. She appreciated the trust, but organizing a hen night on top of all her other duties had been a struggle. Always the reliable one, she still made it an unforgettable day for the bride. And it was a probably a healthy breather from her hectic work life. Events of the evening flashed briefly before her eyes, and she shook her head in disbelief as she recalled acting somewhat out of character.

Traffic still didn't move, and Sandra repeatedly checked her watch, groaning frustratedly each time. Tonight was the office Christmas party, and she dared not be late. Jane was one of the main reasons why Sandra liked her new job, and she was honored to have been invited to her boss' home. As a strong and successful woman, Jane was a great inspiration. She worked hard, and demanded the same of her staff. Yet, it seemed she never had to act particularly bossy around the office. Everybody seemed naturally eager to please her. Sandra was no exception, and she often found that the best reward for a job well done was her boss breaking out in one of those warm smiles.

But underneath Jane's warm surface hid a sharp mind. Sandra had many times seen her boss chew up and spit out anyone who made the mistake of underestimating her in court. It happened occasionally, maybe because she was a woman, or because she was black, or perhaps just because Jane was often younger than her opponents. They had recently celebrated her 33rd birthday, and Sandra had been surprised that her boss wasn't older. Not because she looked old, but she had an aura of confidence about her. Undeniably, she was beautiful—both classy and sexy—and her big curls gave her a somewhat wild look.

Sandra absentmindedly adjusted her blonde bangs, using her rear-view mirror. She flinched as the car behind her honked.

"Shit!" she exclaimed and waved apologetically as she sped off to catch up with the moving traffic.

She'd be on time if it wasn't for the whole secret Santa mishap. They were supposed to buy a $30 gift for the person they picked in a lottery. Sandra had drawn David, Jane's husband, who was also joining them for the party. She wanted to make a good impression on Jane by giving her husband something thoughtful, but it was challenging. She only knew him from his occasional pop-ins at the office. He was a lawyer too, but that didn't really give her any ideas for a gift. But Jane had mentioned that he had recently bought a boat, and after finding out the name, Sandra had order a sailor hat with an imprint that said "Luna", followed by "Captain" below. It was a good gift, even though it cost slightly more than the designated $30. The online store she ordered it from even had a Christmas offer where they delivered wrapped gifts for their customers, which meant she would have been able to tick one more thing off her long to-do list.

If it had arrived on time, that is. Their neglect made her furious. Now she would have to buy a crappy gift on the way to the party.

But as she finally arrived at home, she met the UPS man on his way out the door, holding a parcel.

"Is that for me?" she said hopefully.

"It depends. Are you Miss Ericson?"

Sandra signed for the parcel and quickly brought it inside to tear open the shipping box. There was the gift, wrapped, just as promised. Finally some luck! She sighed with relief. This gave her enough time for an unwinding bath, something she was in great need of.

She stripped down as she ran the bath, neatly folding her clothes. Following Jane's lead, Sandra always wore strict business suits for work, with a buttoned-up blouse, matched with either skirt or pants. She was a professional now, and she wanted to look the part.

She looked herself over in the bathroom mirror as the water filled the tub. Even with her busy schedule, she hadn't given up gym classes. It relieved the stress and kept her healthy. At least these were her official reasons. Deep inside she knew there was also a certain level of vanity to it.

The extra time also allowed for careful grooming, and she trimmed her pubic area neatly, leaving just a narrow strand of blonde hairs. This ritual was always part of her preparation for a night out. She liked the way it looked and felt, even if it was just herself who got to reap the benefits of it these days. She was far too busy for a man in her life. And casual hook-ups didn't seem appropriate now that she was a professional woman. Running her fingers over her smooth lips, she briefly thought that it had been a long time since she even took the time to pleasure herself.

But that wasn't entirely true. Easing herself into the soothing bath, she recalled franticly rubbing herself to multiple orgasms after the bachelorette party. They had organized a photo session for the bride, intended to shoot some sensual photos for her future husband. It wasn't Sandra's idea, but since most of the other girls thought it was the perfect activity, she took it upon herself to find an appropriate photographer. After filtering through dozens of sleazy adds, she finally found one that looked decent. He sounded very professional over the phone, and had an impressive portfolio.

She was however taken aback when he asked if he should schedule time for photo shoots of the other girls too. Hearing the skepticism in her response, he quickly added that this was a common request in his experience. She reluctantly agreed to this, but only after informing him that she certainly wasn't interested in it for herself. But perhaps some of the other girls were.

He turned out to be correct. They had been drinking more than a few glasses of champagne before heading to the photo studio, and arrived a giggly bunch. The bride first refused to be photographed, but it took very little persuasion to change her mind. She did however decide to do the photo session in private, away from their prying eyes. It took quite some time before she returned to her champagne sipping friends, and Sandra noticed that she was adjusting her bra as she entered. The crowd all cheered and asked her about the photo shoot, but the bride laughingly refused to give away any details, and would not show anyone the photos. She was noticeably flustered, and even more giggly than before.

Just as the photographer had predicted, one girl after the other wanted to have their photos taken, enthusiastically applauded by the rest of the group. Some said that it was for their partner, others just for themselves, but Sandra suspected that the fact that both the photographer and his assistant were attractive guys also had something to with it. She thought that they had a pretty sweet deal, getting paid to have women undressing for them.

She held out, saying that it wasn't her thing. But after all her friends had done it, she eventually succumbed to peer-pressure, telling herself that it was just to get them off her back. Even though she wasn't going to take her clothes off, she was nervous as she entered the studio. She made small talk about the equipment, asking boring question about the spotlights and reflective umbrellas that were spread around the studio. The photographer answered politely and guided her to an elegant couch in the middle of the room. He was a handsome man, somewhere in his early forties she guessed.

"I don't really need you to take any photos," she said. "I'm actually a lawyer."

She felt utterly stupid as the words left her mouth. Why on earth would she say a thing like that? The photographer gave her a friendly smile.

"We can just take a few head shots that you can use for PR if you want," he said.

Sandra obviously wasn't the first nervous client he had come across. She appreciated his calming tone, but at the same time oddly disappointed by his suggestion. Taking a seat on the couch, she gave the photographer a forced smile as he moved in close with the lens.

"You have beautiful facial features," he complimented as he snapped a few pictures from various angles. Her smile turned sincere. She knew he was deliberately making her comfortable by complimenting her, but still enjoyed the flattery.

"I need some more light on this side," he said and guided his assistant next to Sandra with a reflecting umbrella. He was a cute guy, mid-twenties just like herself.

There was a certain coquette sensation to having professionals taking photos of her, and she found herself growing comfortable with the attention, posing and interacting with the camera. The photographer moved around, often backing away to get far more than her face in the picture. She wore a black dress with a cleavage deep enough to show considerable amount of her bulging breasts, and she caught herself leaning forward to give the camera an inviting view.

"How about lowering one of your straps?" the photographer asked, not removing the camera from his face.

She did as he asked, aware that her compliance would inspire further suggestions. It excited her.

"How about the bra strap as well?" he continued. "You have very nice shoulders."

She followed his instructions. Inspired by images she'd seen of sexy women in magazines, she struck some provocative poses, sitting with her legs far apart and staring defiantly into the camera.

"Beautiful," the photographer said from behind the camera. "Why don't you lean forward for me a bit."

She complied, and to give him an even better view, she slid down the strap over her other shoulder too. She knew this would give him a generous view of her overflowing breasts.

"That's great Sandra, very sexy. Are you ready to take off the dress now?"

She felt her heart beat in her chest. The way he said it made it seem like it wasn't really an option not to take it off—it was only a matter of time. At least that's what she told herself. She momentarily thought it wasn't appropriate, and she'd be wise to just ending the shoot. But something had awakened inside her, and it quickly pushed away her caution.

"Sure," she said, acting like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to take off her dress in a room with two strange men. "Can you unzip me?" she continued, offering her back to the assistant. He was quick to help, and she inhaled rapidly as she felt her dress fall from her body. She was now standing before them in just bra and panties, matched in black lace. Protecting the remnants of her modesty, she returned the bra straps to her shoulders.

She turned to the photographer. "How do you want me to pose?"

"Let's start with a few standing."

Her exposure made her feel nervous again, making her poses constrained. But it didn't take her long to loosen up. Soon she was again loving the attention of the camera, and perhaps even more from the two men in the room. She caught the assistant checking her out a few times, and feeling playful, she deliberately posed with her ass poking out in his direction. Her sheer panties would give him a great view of her round cheeks. She noticed a smirk on the photographer's face.

"Now turn your back to me," he said.

She seductively looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Very good Sandra," he commented. "You look great. Do you want to lean over a bit to show off your ass a bit?"

Do I want to..? she thought. Part of her didn't like to be given an option, but the truth was she did want to. She leaned forward and placed her hands on the couch, arching her back to give him a perfect view of her round ass. Excitement ran through her body as she heard the camera clicking behind her.

"Absolutely perfect," the photographer said. "Why don't you lie down now?"

Sandra eased into the couch, lying flat on her back. To draw attention to her smooth legs, she repeatedly curved and straightened them, and the photographer shot a series focused solely on her slender limbs. As he redirected his lens to her upper body, she sensuously began running her fingers over her soft skin. Looking down, she could see that her push-up bra offered an inviting view of her breasts, and she suggestively traced her fingers along the hem of her bra. She smirked knowingly as she noticed the assistant staring wide-eyed at her chest.

"I want to do a few shots with my bra off," she said, and was surprised by her own words. Caught in the moment, she had spoken on an impulse. She felt butterflies in her stomach, and a large part of her regretted it.

"Great!" the photographer exclaimed, probably more eagerly than he intended. "Why don't we make a series out of you taking it off?"

Her legs felt shaky as she stood. Could she really do this? Wasn't it best to just say she was joking and get dressed? But she was having a great time, even if the whole thing was unfitting for her. She looked at the assistant, and then back to the photographer, and couldn't help smirking at the anticipation in their expressions. These guys might be professionals, but they still desired to watch her flaunt herself. That notion gave her a sense of power; it was up to her to grant or deny their wish.

"Sure," she said, pleased that her voice sounded confident.

She hooked her thumbs inside the bra straps, pulling at them as she coyly smiled at the busy photographer. Releasing the straps, they snapped back against her skin. She felt playful, and flirted with the camera as she slowly lowered them off her shoulders, one after the other. Her heavy breasts pushed the cups downwards, and looking down she could see that she was already very exposed. She felt a thrill inside, and knew she wanted more.

"Can you unhook me?" she asked the assistant, who quickly put down his umbrella. She held the bra to her chest as he fumbled with the hooks.

Sandra thanked him for his help as he managed to get it open. She could barely believe that she was standing there with her breasts only covered by the cups in her hands, desiring to let go and expose herself. Something inside her told her she needed this. She felt intoxicated by the attention and continued her flirtatious act, leaning forward to teasingly make the two men hope she would drop the bra.

With a deep breath, she pulled the bra away from her, making her exposed breasts sway. She felt a rush of excitement, and couldn't help giggling. She felt silly, but also strangely proud. Posing for the camera, she held the bra out beside her and nonchalantly placed the other hand on her hip. The smirk on her face gave away how pleased she was with herself.

Dropping the bra, she continued to pose. She was proud of her breasts, firm for their size and topped with delicate pink nipples. But it had been a long time since she showed them to anyone. The liberating sensation of blatantly flaunting them was exhilarating. She turned to face the assistant behind her—not because she thought it would make a particularly good photo, but to give him a good view. He smiled sheepishly back at her before dropping his gaze to openly stare at her naked tits.

"Why don't we try a few on the couch too," the photographer suggested.

Resting her back against the armrest, she lay back and began caressing her soft skin. Her own fingers made her shiver, and it didn't take her long to reach her breast. She cupped them, staring seductively into the camera as she arched her back. She enjoyed her own touch, knowing that her audience appreciated it too. The more she touched herself, the more worked up she got. With her eyes closed, she massaged her breasts, occasionally pinching her sensitive nipples.

She was so worked up that one of her hands subconsciously started making its way down her stomach. It was only when she reached the hem of her panties that she realized what she was doing. She opened her eyes and saw the guys staring back at her with wide eyes.

"Maybe we have enough photos now," she said, her voice not convincing. But as thrilling as it was, she couldn't allow herself to go further.

"OK, of course. As you wish," the photographer said, trying his best to sound professional. He started flipping through the photos in his camera. "These look great."

The small screen wouldn't do them justice and he transferred the memory card to a computer so she could watch them properly. The assistant joined them as the photographer flicked through photos, and she had to agree—she did look great, and very sensual.

"If that lawyer thing doesn't work out, you could do this for a career," the photographer said, his voice a mixture of sincerity and jesting.

It was odd, standing there with her tits out next to two completely dressed men. Yet, she had no desire to get dressed.

"Is there one you like in particular?" the photographer asked. "The price you paid for the session includes a printed-out photo, framed and everything."

"Oh, I don't think I need that. It's not like..."

Sandra interrupted herself before telling them that she didn't see the point since there wasn't anyone she could give it to. It would be nice to have a sensual photo of herself, even if it was just for her own eyes. And perhaps more importantly, it meant these guys would have to look at her photos again. The awakened exhibitionist devil inside her liked this. She liked it a lot.

"Well... OK, why not," she said.

"Which one do you want?"

She scrolled through the photos, unable to make up her mind. She liked so many of them.

"I have to get back to my friends. Why don't you two decide?" she suggested. "You are the professionals after all."

She felt cunningly devious. Her proposition meant that the photographer and his assistant would have to look through all the photos afterwards, and she found that most appealing.

"Unless you think it's too much to go through them again?" she added.

"No, no, not at all!" they said in unison.

Afterwards, Sandra felt somewhat ashamed by what she had done, thinking that it wasn't appropriate for an aspiring young lawyer to pose for erotic photos. It wasn't something she should enjoy. She blamed the champagne, but she knew that wasn't the whole truth. Always the responsible one, she had stayed far soberer than the rest.

And a large part of her had desired to go even further. When she recaptured the event in her bed later that night, she wondered what it would have been like to remove her panties too. She played out different scenarios in her head, all of which involved displaying herself even more for the photographer and his assistant. Her imagination ran wild and soon she masturbated furiously to the mental image of them doing far more than just looking at her naked body.

Now in her bath tub, she had similar fantasies running through her head. Her hands acted on their own will, and one soon found its way down between her legs, while the other played with her sensitive nipples. She was just about to get serious when she snapped back to reality and remembered that she had a party to go to. She groaned in frustration as she reached for her phone to check the time. This hectic life was driving her crazy—there wasn't even time to pleasure herself!

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