tagHumor & SatireThe Office Party

The Office Party


"This ain't gonna fly," whined Simon.

"What?" Ted adjusted his tie, stepping into the elevator.

"Us, arriving at the same time," answered Alvin, sidling past Ted off the waiting car.

Ted scrunched up his face in the puzzling frown, until it hit him like a shot in the gut.

"Oh, the chipmunks." He grinned at the thought.

"Oh, the chipmunks," mimicked Simon. "I'll wait for the next elevator."

"Dude, don't be crass." replied Ted. "How is anybody going to put that together?"

Simon punched the already lit button on the wall with his knuckle, hoping another elevator door would open. Alvin stepped further away from Ted as if the doors would close and diffuse the joke before it could build any further.

"Think about it, Ted." said Simon. "It's Christmas; we're already late for a this stupid party, which means that just about everybody else is here, juiced to the gills and in the spirit. All it takes is one person to put it together and then were riding the wave of humiliation all night and probably till next summer." He paused to straighten his cuffs on his overly starched shirt. "It's bad enough we're dateless."

A ding on the opposite wall caused all three to turn. The pair of doors opened and Simon rushed across the floor, hopping into the empty car, and tapping on the panel.

"See you, Suckas." he laughed as the doors closed, leaving his two friends behind.

"Ass clown," muttered Alvin as he joined Ted in the waiting car.

"You're paranoid, you need a drink." Ted shrugged as he let the door close, whisking them up to the 31st floor.

It was the inaugural Christmas party for the employees of Prodigy Publishing. Alvin, Simon, and Theodore aka Ted were just three of the few hundred that were gathered in this forced soiree in lieu of their holiday bonuses. It was easier to get out of jury duty than it was to escape the wrath of publishing magnate Richard Bigg. He kept an unnatural tab on what his little minions were up to. There were five magazines and two cable stations lodged inside the reflective glass monstrosity of Bigg Tower and with the exception of the annual summer picnic, they were all to gather at the same time at the top.

All three friends worked on the same floor in the marketing division and stuck to each other like glue, referring to each other at work by their last names as not to arouse any office jesters with quick wit. Simon was the tallest and most vocal of the three. His shaven dome could be seen gliding over the cubicles cells, making it impossible to blend in and his baritone chops didn't fare any better. Once an top-ranked college player destined for the NBA, he blew out his knee in the Final-Four and never picked up another ball. He graduated and snatched the first thing smoking out of So-Cal, an entry level position at Prodigy.

Alvin landed here a short time later, discharged from the service with no real direction. He ran into Ted at a high school reunion and persuaded to give office work a try even though he'd rather be outdoor. Ted was the consumate worker drone. He was usually the first to come and the last to go, but when he was free, he was the wildest of the three. He drank more, partied harder, and was the most miserable when he couldn't stick his dick in a warm wet hole.

"I hope that sweet Indian chick is here," quipped Ted.

"The one from IT?" asked Alvin as he checked his appearance in the mirrored door for the umpteenth time.

"Naw, not Priya." He coughed in his hand to check his breath. "I had that already. That hot one from Graphics, with the big natty tits."

"Anya? You don't have a chance in hell. I think she buys shares in Birkenstock."

"Aw, fuck that." Pausing to pop in an Altoid, Ted looked at Alvin. "I'm more lesbian than Ellen ."

"Well, it Christmas. Ask Santa, though you haven't been that good a boy this year."

The door opened with a ding and the two stepped right into winter armageddon. The entire floor was covered with fake snow that clung to pants legs and dressed with each step. In the middle of the room was a giant mountain, steps circling from the base to the top, where a giant throne sat next to a electrified tree that spewed red, green, and white, sparks.

Strobe lights replaced the wall scones, blinding the room in a amalgam of multi-colored hues. The large plasma screens that usually showed the usual looped catalog of Bigg programming was replaced by a technicolor version of "It's a Wonderful Life" One couldn't hear the movie because of the booming music from the elf dressed DJ, spinning techno mixes of holiday carols. Alvin and Ted stood at the entrance for what seemed like a few minutes, fighting the vertigo the overtook them until a deep voice shook them loose.

"This is what our bonuses went for? This is some bullshit"

Simon loomed over them, trying to kick the fake snow off his pants.

"Smile" said a petite woman draped in a gaudy elf costume with a Nikon strapped around her neck. Before the trio could object, she let loose with a flurry of digital snaps. It was Amy, one of the fashion photographer from the 15th floor. She looked at the lcd screen before screaming in laughter. "Alvin, Simon, and Theodore, that's classic" She took one more before turning back the way she came to ambush other unsuspecting groups.

"Okay, let's split up before this gets out of hand." said Simon quickly heading to the the left where a massive line was formed for the bathroom.

"I don't think it's that bad." said Ted to noone in particular as he searched the crowd. His eyes got that hungry look and he licked his lips in anticipation for the taboo rendezvous.

Alvin shook his head and headed for the bar at the opposite end of the floor. After getting a couple shot of Patron in his belly, he snatched up a flute of Cristal and began to move amongst his coworkers. Everyone seemed to be having a decent time, filling up on the catered food and unlimited alcohol but the eyes of an insider look told a different tale. Groups consisted of faces that were familiar with each other. The IT people huddled around the base of the snowcapped mountain, still wearing the same clothes they wore to work. Each magazine secured their own corner of the massive room, turning their backs on the rest of the crowd. Alvin looked anybody from marketing and found most of them on the balcony, smoking up a storm and flicking butts into the wind. He searched his pockets for his own pack and quietly joined them.

The line moved rather quickly for the mens room and in no time Simon was pushing aside a stall to relieve himself of the earlier energy drinks.

"Wrong room, sweetheart."

"Whoa, Xmas comes early tonite."

"God bless us, everyone."

Simon turned around to look at the commotion and was shoved aside by a red and brown blur. He fell against the open stall door as he watched someone cut right by him. He had already pulled his zipper down and was snaking his dick out of his boxers when he was rudely interrupted.

"Look, come in or out, but close the fucking door." said the line cutter.

"Hey, I'm pissing here."

"No, you are about to piss. I'm actually pissing now."

Simon could only cock his head in amazement as the petite Asian women with red hair, snatched her panties down, planting herself firmly on the bowl.

The pressure on his bladder intensified and he had to clamp down to stop from pissing his pants. As best as he could with both hands occupied, Simon moved inside the stall and shut the door with his shoulder.

The strange woman paid him no mind as she closed her eyes and hummed in relief, releasing a healthy stream into the toilet. It was all Simon could do to keep from passing out; his dick throbbed from the pulsing bladder, urine begging for an exit.

"Sorry, but the girl's line is too fucking long and that Cristal crap ran right through me."

Simon opened his eyes and saw she was talking to him as nonchalant as if they were in a board meeting. He was afraid to speak, biting his lip to keep from screaming as the pressure gave way to actual pain.

"Hey, you don't look to good."

Simon was nanoseconds away from giving his first golden shower, but she finished, pulling up her panties and smoothing down her skirt. She edged by him as he hopped to the bowl and let the held back urine fly.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh." he groaned, emptying what felt like a gallon of sugar infused carbonation.

"Give it to her, big man." came a voice from the other side.

"Sounds like the other way around." somebody else chimed in.

"Hey, fuck you guys." rebutted the red-haired stranger as she was still stuck in the minuscule stall with Simon. She pretended to search the ceiling for something interesting , but her eyes kept casting downwards as he shook out the remnants/

The whooping continued until he was through, pausing to zip up and flush, before they struggled to escape through thin doorway. Simon walked out to cheers and hoots, but paid it no mind as he washed his hands and strolled out as if he shared bathroom stalls with red-headed Asians everyday.

Ted found his target; she was sitting with a group of women and one man who was obviously gay, preening in a white and pink ensemble complete with matching scarf, on one of the l-shaped couches behind the mountain. It was a set of five, but he wasn't planning to entertain all of them. He checked his breath, grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and began his conquest.

"And what do they call this vision of beauty sitting before me," he drawled in an overblown Southern accent as he extended a glass towards her.

"Not drinking alcohol," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand and shake of jet-black ponytail.

Ted pulled the drink back, slugged them both down without an afterthought, sent them away with another passing waiter and tried again. This time he had the full attention of the group, watching to see what he would do next.

"I'm sorry, is it a religious thing?" He stared into her hazelnut orbs looking for signs of interest.

"No, I don't need to get drunk to have a good time," she looked him up and down. "Unike others, I like to be in control." she turned away and continued chatting with the flock. Smirks hid behind glasses and shaking shoulders restrained the amusement of his dismissal. Ted straightened up, hoping that nobody else was paying attention to his blow off, and eased away from the cackling group.

Alvin stubbed out his smoke and drained what was left of his glass before retreating from the chilly night air and back into the quagmire of faux holiday cheer just in time to see Ted catch a verbal beat down from the majority shareholders of Birkenstock. He shook his head and was about to retreat back onto the balcony when he collided with a mixed drink and a female form. It was soft, smelled of White Diamonds, and had enough sugar in the voice to lead to onset diabetes.

"Christ, my Versace."

"I'm so sorry, miss" Alvin pulled the handkerchief from his breast pocket and tried to dab at the mess, but the majority of the stain was covering her pronounced breast.

"That's Mrs." she leered at his feeble attempts to make amends "Bigg."

"Aw, shit." slipped out of his mouth and he cheeks grew red as the blow up Santas guarding the entrance to the balcony. "Let me get that dry cleaned, or......buy you another."

"I know my husband doesn't pay you enough to replace this," she shook her blond locks that cascaded down her back. "There might be a way though." Looking around, she retrieved a keycard from inside her blouse. Slipping it into Alvin's shaking hand, she leaned closer and whispered, "Meet me, when Santa's on the throne."

Then she swiveled past him and disappeared into the crowd.

Simon was grabbing a plate of shrimp puffs from the buffet when he was tapped on the waist. He turned with tail sticking out the corner of mouth.

"Hey, bathroom buddy." The mysterious redhead was standing there with another two Coronas in her grip, leveling one at him. "Want a refill?"

Simon swallowed the rest of the protruding tail, accepting the beer. With a lean of her shoulder, she led him to a corner vacated by the fashion magazine group.

"I'm Vanida." She took a swig of beer, never taking eyes off him.


"I know; hard to miss you coming down the halls in the mornings."

Simon sunk a little lower in his seat. He hated the fact that everybody saw his height as his only quality. He actually graduated on time and was far from the "dumb jock", but everybody still imagined him on the court slamming balls through hoops.

"I didn't mean it like that." Vanida took a nervous swig and blurted out. "I saw you the first day you came to work, but I guess you're so busy trying to blend in that you don't notice when people aren't staring at you but looking for you."

Simon smiled a little and let Vanida relaxed. They tried to make small talk, but their body language was screaming loudly. Two beers later, they were sneaking to the elevators.

Ted was chasing away the flame of rejection with flame of aged brandy when the volume of the music lowered and all the lights in the room pointed to the mountain in the middle of the room

"HO HO HOOOOOOOO, LITTLE CHILDREN" boomed a voice from the top. The spotlight narrowed to the giant throne where Santa sat, wireless microphone clipped to his beard.

The crowd cheered, raising glasses towards Santa in inebriated jubilation.

"Come tell Santa your wishes and get rewarded." Santa hefted a red velvet sack on his lap and pointed to the circular stairs. People began to line up, climbing up the stairs in a drunken conga line. The first guest was Mr. Bigg's secretary, a svelte blond in heels to high to climb steps. She clumsily fell across his lap, ass arched in the air.

"Ooooh, we have a bad lil girl, people." laughed Santa as he took a playful swat to her buttocks, making her to giggle. Santa lifted her upright, handed her an envelope and pointed to the hidden slide that ran through the mountain to the floor. The secretary scooted down until she disappeared from view, reappearing at the bottom in a splayed heap. The crowd laughed, but when she opened the envelope and revealed two airline tickets to anywhere in the country, quickly lined up in hope of an equal reward.

"What the hell; why not?" Ted stumbled over to the snaking line, bottle cradled in the crook of his arm.

As the line grew longer, Alvin fingered the pass key in his pocket and made his way down the hall away from the drunken revelers. He followed a minuscule trail of snowflakes until they stopped at the oaken double doors that led to Mr. Bigg's inner sanctum. Nervously, he looked around before holding the key up to the scanner on the right. After a second, it beeped and the locks clicked, letting him in. Alvin never stepped foot inside the CEO's office before and it caught his breath. Multiple television screens on one wall, all on different programs from sports, to financial news, to porn in the lower corner. On the other side was a roaring fireplace with and actual bear skin rug in the front. In the middle sat the biggest desk he ever saw, carved marble that seemed to glisten. On the desk lay Mrs, Bigg, devoid of the ruined Versace nibbling on a cinnamon cookie. The crumbs spilled down her front, tumbling down the slopes of her cleavage and coming to rest along the lines of her peach colored slip.

"Ready to pay for that dress, young man?"

Alvin's skin grew cold as he realized what was about to take place. Getting fired would be the least of his problems. Richard Bigg had long arms and they was no telling where they could reach.

"Don't you worry about 'Big Dick', Santas going to be busy for quite awhile." She stretched out, one massive tit spilling out from underneath the slip. "Come over here, sugar. I won't bite, yet."

Everything in Alvin's body told him to run, but he couldn't stop staring at the large areola that beckoned him. He wanted nothing more than a tall glass of milk to go with the consumate feast of sugar breast. He glided closer, shadows from the fire dancing across his face.

"Dick has been so busy building his empire, he forgot about his queen who held his hand the whole way." Mrs. Bigg began to run a thumb over a stiffening nipple. The stiffening in Alvin's pants began to increase as well. "Well, I have my needs too."

When he was within a foot of the desk, she spun around and hiked her meaty thighs up. "Penetration is overrated; how well do you know your alphabet, honey?"

10 floors down, Simon had Vanida hoisted up on the broken copier, pants bunched around his ankles. They fiercely tongued each other down as they groped at each other in the dark.

"Damn, I wanted this for too long," gasped Vanida as she worked her panties down, trying to spring Simon's cock free at the same time.

"Uh-hm" Simon was too busy trying to unhook her bra, but couldn't find the clasp.

"It's in the front." Vanida exclaimed as she wriggled the moistened underwear off till it fell down, hanging off one ankle.

"Yeah, right." Simon moved his hands to the front and released her bra, pausing to take in the dark berrylike nipples before taking it in his mouth, moaning in satisfaction.

"I have to be honest, I haven't been with a guy like you in a long time."


"No," giggled Vanida. "Someone my own age. You guys fuck like rabbits."

Vanida ripped at the boxers until she got to her prize. Engorged with anticipation, she ran her fingertips along the thickened shaft until she was holding a heavy pair of balls in her hand. Lightly squeezing them, she shuddered at the feel of his teeth raking her nipples. He relinquished his oral lock on her and stood to his full height, letting her guide him in.

She tensed up as the bulbous head pushed against her.

"Once the head is in, it's all goooooood." Simon groaned as he pushed through, encompassed in the wet grip of Vanida.

"Oh, God. That's fuckin' awesome." replied Vanida as she pushed back against him.

Ted was trying to steady himself against the flimsy railing as he neared the top of Santa's mountain. It seemed much smaller from the ground, but then it might be the good drink affecting him. When It was his turn, he squinted at Santa and realized that he was staring at his boss. Mr. Bigg looked Ted up and down, announcing to the crowd, "This lil boy needs to get away from it all." Ted tried to act sober but felt himself getting more out of control by the second. That bourbon he was slugging down was about a hundred dollars a bottle and worth every penny. He smiled big for Santa and traded the bottle for the envelope. Stumbling towards the slide, he knew trying to go feet first was too much of a hassle and dove head first down the hole. Sliding across the floor like Pete Rose got him a round of applause and a pat on the back. He sat up and tried to brush the ever present snow off his shirt and tie to no avail. He remembered the reward and tore open the envelope to find a month worth of spa treatments waiting for him.

"What the fuck?" he felt like Ralphie. Santa just told him that he would shoot his eye out and kicked his ass off the mountain. It's not there was a coupon for a happy ending in there. He double-checked to make sure.

A flurry of snow announced the arrival of another from Santa's mountain, spraying more fake powder on Ted. It was Anya from Graphics that blew him off earlier. Snow littered her hair and she tried in vain to brush the crumbs off her pants suit.

Ted scrambled to his feet and lent her a hand. She accepted it, quickly letting go when she realized who it was.

"What did you get," he asked, referring to the clutched envelope in her hand.

She opened it up and after reading it, began to cuss, a string of Hindu interlaced with English.

"I don't even like baseball. Bloody cunt." She received season tickets for the Braves.

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