The Office Christmas Party Plus One

A soft voice came from the corridor, "Sam, Sam, you need to go now, if you get caught, there will be hell to pay for us, sorry love."

Sam, with his big grin on his face looking at me, flicked his long hair and sauntered out to leave me in the dim lights, wondering on what happened and where do we go from here?

The next day I was let out, and they signed me off work for a month. Once home I saw my bike parked in the back garden, a little bent and buckled but fixable. It turns out Chris and Sam had turned up that morning, having had pushed it all the way home. I rang work and had a chat to let them know I was ok. The weather was cold now as we were nearing late November, lots of rainy days and early morning frosts. I caught the bus into work one day to hand in my doctor's certificate, so they would pay my sick pay.

I worked for a small design consultancy, almost a family affair. The two owner directors and the designer had brought out some designs from a company they had worked at previously to set up the consultancy. We worked out of an old large converted country house. The two owner directors had rooms of their own, to answer phones privately. I shared a room with Gof, a wonderful old man way beyond pensionable age, who like me could tell a great story. Gof was short for Godfrey, but he wasn't going to be presumptuous to have it shortened to God, so Gof it was.

I got on with all of them, their wife's and daughters all were involved. We had two guys working in the shop, as we also moulded some electronics for a local company.

So it was great to call in, share a coffee, tell my story and laugh at some jokes.

Sharon, the boss's wife called in and made a fuss, pulling me to one side to plead with me to buy a car. They were all pleased to hear that I had brought my brother's, but I couldn't drive it until I had full movement in my collarbone, as it was still strapped up in a sling.

"Dan you know, like all companies we are arranging a company meal for Christmas, we pay for everything, but we don't know if you, you know, have a plus one?" Sharon asked.

"Oh, sorry Sharon, er?" Not sure what she meant.

"You know, a girlfriend, to come with you, everyone else is bringing their wives and the boys in the shop are bringing their girlfriends, but we don't know if you have one?"

"Oh, yeah, of course, a plus one. Sorry, yes, if that is okay?"

"Oh, that will be lovely. We have booked tables up at 'The Hunter's Hall' on Saturday December 20th, from 8pm."

So that was it, an office Christmas dinner, but no plus one. `Bugger' I thought.

Gof overheard and teased me, as I had not spoken of anyone, except a mate called Sam all year.

I caught the bus home and struggled, knowing I have just a month to find a bird. I struggle to talk to them, I always put my foot in it, my tongue would swell up and just impede coherent speech. None of the birds down at the club interested me. They were nice and all that but, not to take to show the boss's wives.

The days passed into weeks, Sam had popped in a few times, but I said nothing over the hospital incident. I felt better and had returned to work. It was a cold December, being higher up and in the north. We had some harsh frosts and a little snow, so I was thankful to be driving a car. I mentioned to mum about the works Christmas do, but nothing about a plus one. Then one night she brought it up, I shrugged it off, saying I will take a friend's sister or something, but no girlfriends.

I even drove my skip down the club. Being my own car I treated it as a skip, with bike parts and rubbish gathering on the rear seat. As soon as everyone knew I had a skip of my own, I was a taxi services to pick people up on the way out and back on the return trip. So whilst I saw Sam, we were never alone. On one of those club nights I mentioned my office Christmas dinner and that I needed a plus one.

"Oi, you mean you aren't going to ask me?" Sam asked, looking a little hurt.

"Er I don't know, I may not go. The Hunters Hall is way out in the boonies, 60 miles from here. I would have to stay sober, so not really much fun." I hoped I had dodged that embarrassing bullet, still not being sure where our friendship was after his hospital visit. To be honest, I think we were both on edge, the old banter was gone but he wasn't always around, which made things easier.

Finally, Saturday December 20th arrived in a freezing blast of wind. I had a problem, still no `plus one' and my car's brakes were playing up. So I spent a wintry day out on the driveway under my car. Removing wheels and brakes, brake drums, pads, bleeding brake lines, hoping my aging British built skip would survive the winter. Sod my brother for selling me a lame duck.

After losing all the skin off my knuckles in the cold, I finally could lower the car off the stands and take it off the ramps, threw all my tools in the shed and got in the house to warm up. I stood under the hottest shower I could stand whilst my bones warmed back up. Finally warmed up and dressed, I went downstairs.

"Mum, I'm famished, when's dinner?"

"You're going to your works Christmas dinner, remember? So no dinner for you, my lad, it will spoil your appetite."

"Aw mam, I'm not going, no plus one, and I'm too tired."

"What about that Samantha, she said she'll be here about 6?"

"Who? I don't know a Samantha?"

"Yes you do, Samantha, she rang this afternoon, but you were under your car swearing. So she asked, and I confirmed you still didn't have a plus one. So she is coming to be your plus one. She sounds nice on the phone. When did you meet her?"

My mind was racing. What the fuck? I definitely can't remember any Samantha, but I know a Sam!

"You mean Sam? My mate Sam? You know with long blond hair, black Sabbath cut, upsets you because he always swears?"

"No, she definitely said Samantha, and she never swore on the phone."

Shit, shit, shit. What on earth do I do, what is he playing at? I can't deal with this, I'm not gay.

On cue I could hear coming down the road a familiar bike's exhaust note. I heard it squeeze down the drive; I heard our side gate open, and it came alongside the house and stopped.

"Mum, that's Sam, not any Samantha." Fuck, fuck.

I dashed out through the kitchen into the freezing night air in slippers and T-shirt, to find Sam unhooking a bag off the back of his bike.

"Hey up Watchyer?" He said.

"What the fuck, Sam?"

"I'm your plus one, I spoke with your mam this afternoon and she said you were a sexless, useless fucker, so I am stepping up to the plate for a mate." He grinned as he walked past me.

"No, no, no, they are expecting a girlfriend as a plus one, not a mate."

"I'll be your girlfriend for tonight, play your cards right and you might get lucky?" He swaggered into the kitchen.

I followed him, flabbergasted, completely flummoxed. As mum was cooking dad a big dinner, the kitchen was hotter than hell after being outside in a T-shirt. Sam had his back to me, looking at Mum who stood at the door to the lounge.

"Samantha, so pleased to meet you, ignore him, he's like his dad, useless."

Sam removed his helmet, and my mum took it. He then quickly removed his leather jacket and his thick jumper, still with his back to me. He had a tatty Motorhead tour T-shirt on.

"I've a dress in the bag and some overnight stuff, I can change in Dan's room, if that is okay Mrs D?"

"Dress! Fucking dress?" I exclaimed. He was going too far. Mum gave me a look that would freeze hell over and Sam turned around.

"What the fuck Sam?" Sam, whilst still having helmet hair, had full makeup on, eyeliner, lipstick, eye shadow, the lot, looking more female than any of my ex's. Even scarier he had small breasts, small `B's or big `A's, I couldn't tell.

"What have you done?" I screamed.

"What do you mean?"

"You know, those pills you are taking, why?"

"What fucking pills?"

"To grow tits, Baz told me, have you cut your dick off too?" I barely got the last word out as a fist hit me on my chin, sending me flying back into the outer kitchen door, crumpling me to the floor. Boy, he hits fast and hard.

"You listened to that wind up merchant? Baz? ... You fucking listened to Baz?" Sam was now standing over me, looking furious.

"Sorry Mrs D, can I use your phone?" He asked my mum, and walked through the lounge to the hallway, knowing full well where the phone was. Now in the 80s we still had finger wheel dial phones, so each number was on a disc and you had to spin each digit in turn. So whilst he was slowly dialling, Brrr ding, ding, Brrr, ding, ding, I had time to get up, be berated by mum, and join him in the hallway as he held the mouthpiece waiting for the connection. I could hear the phone ringing on the other end.

"Mam, Sam here, is that fucking useless sperm bank Baz still home?" I could hear a mumbled voice, a pause, then a deep voice.

"Baz you fucking shit, have you been telling people I'm taking pills to grow tits and I have a dick to cut off?"

I think the reply was an affirmative as you could clearly hear Baz laughing a deep, hearty, long laugh at the other end of the phone. Then that same deep voice asked a question.

"Dan, that's who, Dan believed you, you wanker, you had better run for the hills because when I get home I am going to give you panda eyes, you fucker." Even as the phone was being slammed down, I could hear Baz laughing heartily at the other end.

Samantha turned to look at me, anger still in her eyes.

"Is that why you have been funny with me ever since that rally? Especially after that blowjob? Is that why you kept mentioning you weren't gay?"

I tried to look as sheepish as possible, not wanting a second punch, instead I felt mum slap the top of my head from behind.

"Daniel, apologise to Samantha."

"Sorry, Sorry Sam, honest, I just thought we were mates, you know? How was I to know?"

"Well, that's odd ... because everyone else knows. You tit."

"But you always came to the gents with me?"

"Because I felt safe with you waiting outside, you twat. Why do you think I wanted to share tents with you?"

"Oh, bugger, I am sorry Sam, It's just I never thought of you that way, you know, what with those jumpers hiding you."

"See how much fat is on me? I get cold in a furnace." She was right, there was no fat on her, being built like a rake, stick thin.

"But, your voice? There's nothing ladylike about your voice." I winced as soon as I said it, expecting another left hook.

"You've seen how much I smoke? Your voice would be a bag of gravel too if you smoked like I do, and you swear as much as I do, Twat."

"Er, ok ... so are you still my plus one?" I was really sheepish now, mum behind and Sam in front.

"Well, only because I'm getting a free meal out of your ugly mug."

So Samantha went up to my room with her overnight bag, whilst I waited, being berated and lectured at by my mum, with my dada tutting in agreement with her, until Samantha returned and my heart melted.

She was stunning, in an 80s hippie style, long, dark dress, with multi coloured strands running through it, her long blond hair, now brushed, hung over her shoulders and a little clutch bag over her shoulder. I ran upstairs and couldn't change fast enough. Changing into clean jeans, a collared shirt, with a tie and a jacket.

So finally, my 'plus one' and I, got in the car, turned the heater full on and drove up to The Hunter's Hall through the frozen wastes of the Northern England. It soon was like old times, both of us laughing and giving each other grief.

She was my best mate and dream girl all rolled into one. She swore like a trooper, fought like a boxer, smoked like a steam engine, drank like a rugby team, but also stunning, the best company ever, with a great hearty laugh and she could both ride and mend a bike. We arrived in high spirits, parked the car, and waltzed into the hotel.

I introduced her to all my works colleagues and their partners. She made a point of telling everyone the story about us and how I thought she was a bloke. Gof could not forget it and laughed the entire night about it. He kept confirming to Samantha that all I had spoken about all year was my best mate, Sam. The wives loved her and Samantha kept her swearing down. She ate and drank her fill, whilst I stayed sober. After the meal they played some music, so we danced together.

Finally, I could appreciate her hair, her hips and her gorgeous bum, so tight and small, even in that hippy pleated dress. A few times she pinched my bum and pecked a kiss on my cheeks. It was still strange, converting my perception of her, from best mate, to stunning plus one, girlfriend.

It came time to leave and with my arms around her waist we walked through the reception out into the snow outside. With the snow falling around her; I took her in my arms, pulled her in tight, and we had our first genuine kiss. She tasted of Jack Daniels as her tongue sought mine, both twisting together, I sucked on her lower lip and we made our way to the car. Jeez, she was stunning in the snow, as it fell all around us, getting into the car; I fired up the measly 1300cc engine, put the heater on full and we spent our time waiting for it to warm up in each other's arms, kissing, laughing and hugging.

As we came down off the hills, she got me to pull over in a layby and unzipped my jeans, undid my belt and started working on my John Thomas. I pulled my seat all the way back and pulled my jeans down. Her one hand pulled her panties down to her knees.

"I don't have a condom, Sam."

"I'm on the pill twat. Slurp, sloop, slurp, schoosch." Jeez, her lips worked back down my now stiff shaft, reminding me of that night in the hospital.

"I won't last long, if you keep that up."

She sat up and moved over to straddle me, her hand guided my hand under her dress to her pussy. This was weird, I was still subconsciously expecting a cock, but she was eager, wet and ready, I eased my finger into her waiting lips, teased her hardened nub and slipped my finger into her.

"Mmmmmm you fucker, that is nice, you missed your chance in the hospital, you fanny."

We kissed as I teased her with my warm wet fingers, her hips now reacting to the fingers sliding between her clit and inside her. Then she moved my hand away, held my dick and guided it in, lowering herself down. As soon as the tip felt her wetness, her hand came round to my shoulders. Looking at me eye to eye, she gave that grin of hers, kissed me, then dropped her full weight onto my cock. She instantly enveloped me in a warm, lubricated velvet purse and she ground her hips forwards and backwards. This soon became up and down, riding my shaft, throwing her wonderful blond hair forwards and backwards with each stroke. I reached up and held her small pert breasts, thumbing her nipples.

"Fuck me Dan, fuck me, yeah, yes, ye, yeeeeessss, Daaaannnn." She screamed as she spasmed in her orgasm. Hearing her scream my name was weird, but it was enough to bring on my own orgasm and I exploded into her, thrusting and grinding our hips together until we were empty. She slumped over me and we kissed passionately. She pulled back and grinned her wonderful grin at me.

"See what you missed?" She said through her grin.

`Knock, knock' came a tap on my driver's side window, we looked over and parked alongside us was a police car, window down, using his truncheon to tap the window.

They weren't getting out of the warmth of their car with the snow storm around us. He motioned with his thumb and mouthed, "Fuck off." He wound up his window, and they drove on.

We screamed with laughter. They knew what was going on, but how long were they there? Had they waited for us to finish?

Sam returned to the passenger seat, and I pulled my seat forward and I pulled out to drive on.

Once back in suburbia the snow wasn't too bad and we got back to my parent's house safe. We snogged our way around the house, going via the kitchen to make cups of tea. Up in my bedroom, we were giggling with my parents in the next room.

It was a new house with thin walls, so I pulled the mattress off the bed onto the floor to keep the noise down, as Samantha had promised to shag me all night long. I turned to see her stood grinning, once she saw me looking she dropped her dress. She was wearing the thinnest black lace basque with black lace panties; she was stunning.

True to her word, Samantha and I shagged like rabbits all night and most of the next day. Thankfully, the sun came out long enough that afternoon for her to ride her bike back. Over Christmas we were just inseparable, although the next time I saw Baz he was sheepishly wearing a big black eye, with Samantha promising to give him a matching one once that one was healed.

----

Now, fast forward back into the present, 2020.

We are all older, Samantha and I drifted apart after a trip to the following year's Island of Man TT races, but we are still good friends. Sam now lives with her childhood sweetheart. I am married with a twenty-year-old son, with my wife and Sam being close friends. We all still ride bikes. Just after lockdown we all met up and rode out to the Dales, sat by the same lake side and were joined by Baz and his new girlfriend.

We sat at picnic tables at a new lakeside cafe, scoffing bacon baps (rolls) and enjoying cups of tea. As always, the conversation drifted back to the old days, what we did with the club, various people and the good times we had. Both my wife and son know all my biker stories, I am an open book, nothing to hide. But there is one story my son didn't know.

"Haha, you'll never guess? Years ago, when I first met Sam, she always wore big baggy jumpers, and because we all had long hair back then, Baz was able to convince me she was his brother turning into his sister!"

We roared with laughter at the notion, but I soon realised it was only my son and I laughing. Baz's face was white with terror, as a flash of fist came across the table, hitting him square on the one side of his nose.

"Ha, you thought I had forgotten, I warned you I would get you one day. Panda!" Sam said.

"Jeez, I'm sorry mate, maybe some things time doesn't heal." I tried to make an apology as Baz's eye smarted and blackened.

I looked at Sam's boyfriend apologetically, as he will have to pick up the fallout. He looked at me and mouthed, "That was you?" Pointing at me, I nodded, and he stifled the biggest laugh, waving two thumbs appreciatively up in the air, obviously having heard Sam's version of the story a long time ago.

Sam stormed off muttering about men, wankers or something.