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It was the night before Christmas eve, the night of the office Christmas “do” – my least favourite night of the year.

It was already dark at around three thirty when I finally managed to slip away from the manufactured merriment in the stuffy and overcrowded Board room. I donned my coat, stealthily dashed up the stairs and headed for my usual 1st floor hideaway.

Once at the top of the stairs I started to regret the bottle of red wine and the passing years as my head spun momentarily. I made my way across the large open plan office suite towards the front window, where my boss’ office nudged next to the small and cosy interview room, directly above the lobby. I opened the door to the small, and comfortably warm, glass bubble. I glanced out at the other silvery, glass clad office blocks, shining brilliantly, lantern like, in the modern, low rise, out of town office development.

I lowered myself on to the orange plastic seats arranged in a block of three against the glass partition of the far wall. I placed my hands behind my head and sighed contentedly as I swung my legs on to the cream coloured coffee table, bedecked with company brochures, in the centre of the small room. I closed my eyes and hoped to be able to sleep off the worse of the effects of the wine by the time my lift arrived at six. The drone of the music from the party below relaxed me somehow and I soon drifted into a peaceful and deep sleep.

I awoke with a start as I heard a rap on the glass door. I opened my eyes and was immediately dazzled by the bright light of a torch shining directly in my face. I looked around startled, first at my watch and then out of the window. It was over an hour later and the whole world seemed different, darker, and the room was a lot cooler.

“Sorry to disturb you boss.” Came the soft and apologetic tones of Sean the Security man. “The power’s gone off and I’ve got to clear the building.”

I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light. I looked through the glass partition to confirm – indeed he was right. The interview room was only partially filled with an eerie orange hue from the distant city streetlights. As my eyes adjusted to the dim half light I looked out at the cold and grey buildings opposite – the entire estate had been plunged into darkness.

“Sorry, I must have drifted off. How long?”

“They recon about three hours, but everyone’s going now. The boss has ordered a bus, it should be here in about half an hour.”

I noticed someone swaying behind Sean and craned my neck to see. He leant away. Oh God, it was Debbie the dyke and judging by the way she looked she was in a real state. She was clutching a bottle and strappy shoes in one hand, her purse and a half full wine glass in the other. She looked to be bouncing off the door frame.

“Can’t I wait here?” I asked.

“Only if I can leave this one with you.” Was the deal offered by Sean. “I’ll give you a shout when the bus comes but you should be able to see it out of the window for yourselves.”

I nodded in reluctant agreement, Sean made way and Debbie staggered into the small room where I sat, still in my coat, like some kind of a naughty school boy.

I watched Sean’s torch illuminate the dark void that was the office floor, behind the glass partition, as he made his way across and out of the far door.

“God, it’s cold in here.” Debbie said spinning around and planting herself directly on my lap. “Here, you can warm me up.” She said in an unusually cheery tone.

I concentrated on not cringing as she leant back and batted her eyes at me, clumsily and almost comically.

She had a reputation – she was demanding, some might say bossy. She was brisk and ambitious, some might say coolly efficient and calculating but she was good at her job and had managed, single handed, to turn around the entire Design department in her two years at the firm.

I suppose she isn’t bad looking, just young, in her mid 20s. She is average in height, has a slender frame and sported bright red, dyed, straight collar length hair. She has a rounded face with narrow lips, steely blue eyes and a slightly crooked nose.

As water cooler lore had it, she was also a ball breaking bitch and a raging dyke. Rumour also had it that she lived with a girl.

I had barely spoken a dozen words to her but got the impression she was on the up and too good for this place, indeed this office was not a good place for her to be, an attractive, talented, and ambitious young woman – the knives had been out for some time.

That day she wore more makeup than normal, chunky jewellery and a rather nice clingy red cocktail dress, presumably especially for the party, but it clashed terribly with her hair. Normally she dressed more conservatively, had a more corporate look, but that day she had adopted a softer look and the silken dress highlighted her erstwhile hidden assets.

I, on the other hand, had made no effort at all. I wore my normal work clothes and had, up until lunch time, been solemnly canlı bahis performing my duties as a member of the Accounts department. I suppose my role (an accountant), being older, fat and balding came with a certain level of expectation.

The room fell into an uneasy quiet. I looked outside into the dark and cold night, trying to distance myself from the uncomfortable situation.

Debbie shuffled her boney backside against my lap, porbably to gain some attention, but almost trapped my balls in the process.

“Careful!” I cried as she wriggled again. I took a firm hold of her waist. She didn’t struggle, she actually seemed to welcome it.

“You know most people think I’m a dyke.” She confessed in a soft voice over her shoulder, fumbling awkwardly to strike up a conversation.

“It’s not true you know.” She added tentatively.

“Oh?” Was all I could muster. I was less than comfortable, I didn’t know her all that well and didn’t want to encourage her either.

She drained her glass. I released her waist as she bent down and placed it carefully on the floor. I couldn’t help but notice her tight butt clinging to the thin red material of her dress in the dim half light.

She sat back, leant in, drew back my arms and whispered huskily into my ear,”I have a problem. A problem perhaps you could help me with.” She hesitated.

“Have you ever heard of a sex addict? Well I am one you see.”

I am not sure if I actually gulped but if she hadn’t been sat on me I would have been out of the door in a flash. I wasn’t sure if she was kidding or if it was just an outrageous lie for effect. I concluded that she was drunk and probably just horny.

“I need to get off two or three times a day.” She slurred slightly as she started to rub her cheek against mine. “You can help me, can’t you?” She said as she opened her eyes wide and bit her lower lip in an outrageous attempt to allure me.

I froze. She had a reputation for being a bit of a cold fish, especially around men.

She grabbed my right wrist and shoved my hand unceremoniously between her legs, I must admit with less protest from me than perhaps I should have given. She lifted my hand under the hem of her dress and up her smooth inner thigh to the warm confines of her groin. To my great surprise I felt bare flesh – she wasn’t wearing any knickers.

“I never wear any.” Was her confident and sexy repost as my hand hit the soft down of her neatly and recently trimmed pubic hair.

“Go on, touch it.” She urged.

She had a strangely compelling nature and I was almost being forced, lemming like, to surrender to her will. I am not sure if it was the wine, the cold or even the possibility that the girl had actually got to me that I felt obliged to obey. All kinds of things raced through my head as my hand went south, tribunals, the sack, the press…

I moved the cold tip of my finger down the soft folds of her naked inner lips. She jumped as my cool digit made contact and then sighed slightly as I brushed the ridge of her clitoral hood in passing down to her warm entrance. She opened her legs wider to accomodate me but was dry, too dry for me to rub. I searched in vain for some moisture. I felt in and around her opening but decided to abandon my search, lest I caused irritation or discomfort, and released my hand.

“Make met wet. Talk dirty to me.” She raised my cool hand up to her face and sexily drew a finger between her thin and reddened lips. I felt her soft tongue swirl over and around it inside the wet and warm orifice. Pursing her lips, she deposited just enough saliva to make it glisten in the dim half light as she guided my hand back to her warm centre.

I cleared my throat rather un-sexily as she guided my newly lubed finger across her smooth and tender slit.

“Why, why aren’t you a dyke then?” Was the best I could come up with under the circumstances. “I know you live with a girl, don’t you?”

“Yes, that bitch. She, you know, helps me out, like you’re doing, from time to time.” She said gesturing to my hand at her groin with a nod.

“When she first moved in she said she was gay. That’s what I wanted, no boys. But that changed as soon as she moved in. She’s happy to frig me off during the week but she wants a good fucking at the weekend – bitch!”

“She keeps flaunting her boyfriend at me, bathing together and shagging all over the place. I even caught them shagging in the front room the other day. She was on all fours, on my coffee table, being banged up the arse and cumming like a tart, screaming, fuck me, fuck my arse.” She said with a bitter shake of her head.

I continued to gently massage and tickle her silky inner lips.

“Did that turn you on then?” I asked.

“I was stood at the door for ages He saw me and I knew was keen on me joining in but the bitch wouldn’t share. She shouted at me, between cumming, and told me to f-off.”

“How did you want to join in? With him or with her?”

“God, now there’s the thing. I wanted to fuck him. I bahis siteleri wanted him to make me scream like her and for her to watch. You know I can rarely bring myself off, but every time I hear them fuck I can cum in seconds.”

With that she let out a slight moan and I felt a pool of oily wetness at her tight cunt hole. She sprang up.

“Thanks for that.” She said in a matter of fact tone as she smoothed her dress down.

“Was that it?” I exclaimed without thinking, I only hoped that I hadn’t actually said it out loud.

“Was that what?” She responded in a bewildered tone.

“Was that you cumming?” I answered with equal disbelief.

“Y-Yes.” She nodded earnestly.

“Oh no, no. If you’re going to do something, you may as well do it right.” I said waggling a finger insistently.

I was getting warm, I shuffled forward and pulled my arms from my coat sleeves. It looked like I meant business.

“What do you mean?” She asked nervously pulling away.

I grabbed her firmly by the hips and pulled her back to my lap.

“Unzip your dress.” I insisted in my best boss’ tone, after all I did, technically, out rank her.

“What?” She answered with more than an air of confusion and mistrust.

“That wasn’t an orgasm. That wasn’t even a half an orgasm. You just got wet.” I stated defiantly.

“That’s all I need. I don’t like to….” She uttered in mitigation.

“Lose control, is that it? Or is it to let a boy make you fully cum?” I threw the gauntlet down.

She leant forward and pulled at the zip keeping her pert boobs together in the top half of her dress. She jumped as my cold left hand snaked under the sheer material and found her warm mound. Her nipple instantaneously jutted to attention as my cool finger rolled and tweaked it against my thumb. She arched her back in appreciation and allowed my right hand to flop back between her wide open legs.

I kissed the nape of her neck as I slid my hands down her moist slit. I dipped the tip of my finger in the well of fluid and ran it back up to circle her hardening clit. She gasped as I drew her hood back and rubbed some of her lube across the tender nub.

“Talk dirty to me.” She whispered as she sunk back, dead weight, against me.

“Do you like it in the arse?” I whispered into her ear, nibbling at it between each word.

“What is it about you boys? You have a perfectly tight cunt to fuck and all you want to do is stick it up a skanky shitter.”

“Yes, but do you want it up the arse? Did you want it from him?” I repeated, kissing and nibbling as I rubbed her clit harder.

“Oh God yes.” She sighed. Her breathing became more laboured. “I want her to watch as he fills my arse from behind. I only wish that they were the other way round when I caught them, so I could have seen his thick dick stretching her tight, brown, arsehole.”

“I bet you want her to suck his cum from your arse too.”

“Oh God yes.” She began to whimper and writhe against me. By now my cock was hard and she could feel it too as she bounced and bumped against it.

I slowly increased the speed of my fingers running up the length of her slit, from cunt to clit, occasionally dipping the tip in to her wet and clenching hole to lubricate the path. My speed built, my hand waved rapidly and rhythmically at her smooth and tender inner flesh.

She went quiet and sunk back against me, with measured breathing she tensed her stomach muscles as her arousal level increased. I could tell that she was sailing in fresh waters and was fighting to comprehend the new sensations welling deep within her.

She leant her head forward intently as I began to run my fingers further down and beyond her open and gushing wet cunt hole, towards her hot and tight butt. I simply brushed lightly over the puckered rim as my hand sped back and forth, but it seemed to heighten her pleasure almost beyond her capacity to endure.

Faster and faster I rubbed. Her cunt made delightful squelching sounds as my fingers sped over and around her hot love canal. Her cream moved down the entire length of her sex as my fingers spread the freely flowing lube.

I started to use two fingers to rub her gash and gently inserted them into her hot cunny with almost every pass.

I sensed her starting to cum and drove my fingers, full length, deep into her hole. Her cunt walls gripped them tight as she twisted in ecstasy on my lap.

“Hoh, hoh, hoh.” She came in a series of head nodding pants. She threw her head forward with a semi shocked twitch as each convulsion surged through her body. I pulled softly at her pliant nipple. Her cunt walls clasped and rippled against my probing fingers as the climax tore through her young and slender frame.

“Finger my arse. Finger it now.” She commanded forthrightly as I sought to intensify and sustain her orgasm yet further.

I slipped a wet finger into the hot and pulsing warmth. She responded with a louder cry and by tensing her arse muscles even more tightly around the invading bahis şirketleri digit. Her arse seemed almost to suck my finger in deeper with each spasmodic clench.

After the slightest pause she leapt up. With one sweep of her arm she threw the printed brochures from the coffee table on to the floor. She hitched her thin dress half way up her back, knelt and raised her neatly curved and naked arse high in the air invitingly.

It had been a while since I had had any so I decided to make the most of it. Whilst bent down I cocked a look at the darken shape of her pert arse. Dyke or not I was tempted by her position, arse up and inviting – I had the uncontrollable urge to explore her open gash with my tongue. I sank to my knees and cupped the soft globes of her round backside. I leant in, pushed out my tongue and engaged her wet and open cunt.

“That’s not what I want.” She complained over her shoulder and swung away from my probing muscle.

She moved away only slightly, just enough for me to steady her hips with the slightest of pressure on the muscular mounds of her sexy arse. She tilted her hips as I moved my tongue down her inner slit and under the hood of the soft flesh covering the nub of her erect clit. I swirled my tongue across and around the small and stiff button.

“I don’t like…” She muttered towards the table. “I don’t want.. I have never had a boy do this …. I’m not sure I want…. Oh God, Oh Christ, Oh fuck….” She said as her internal battle was lost and she gave in to the sensations rippling through her body.

She shifted slightly to reposition my tongue at her favoured spot. I waggled it dutifully at the wet entrance to her cunt and teased her by faking a stab it into the fleshy folds at the centre.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, addressing the question at her open cunt and making sure to drown her loins with my hot breath.

I gently massaged her soft mounds, she said nothing but pushed slightly back at my small member. I allowed it to drift into her and then unfurled it into the warm cavern. She sighed as the sensations melted the last vestiges of her resistance. She was mine, she was connected to my tongue, she shivered with excitement and anticipation and her arousal levels continued to rise higher with each sweep and lap of the soft protrusion.

I flipped my tongue out and down her smooth slit, l lapped at her clitoral hood and traced a path back to the source of her freely flowing juices. I drank them in eagerly and paused to draw in her scent, her sex flooded the small room. She remained poised on my tongue and tilted her frame with minute precision to maximise the pleasure of contact. Her muted cries of pleasure filled the still air as I continued to explore her with my mouth.

She came with a guttural growl. Her cunt walls gripped at my tongue and drew it into the soft centre as she writhed and bucked against my face. Her juices gushed across my cheeks and lips. I savoured her flavour but allowed her no respite.

“I bet you’ve never had this done to you.” I whispered as I spread open her taut butt cheeks and ran my tongue over the wrinkled and hot rim of her butt hole. She jumped as if a bolt of electricity had just been passed through her.

She said nothing, but she didn’t move away either, she just stayed still and perfectly quiet as if trying to guess my next move and process the feelings she was experiencing.

“Do you want me to stop?” I repeated as I repeated the action with my tongue and pressed at the soft and silky centre.

Again nothing, but no adverse reaction either.

“I bet you want him to do this to you, don’t you?” But I secretly thought that I would rather see her girlfriend doing it to her.

“Does she do this to you? Does she lick your arse? Do you like it?”

I curled my tongue and probed at the soft inner ring. I gripped her, now clammy, arse cheeks and pushed the tip into the hot centre. Debbie simply sighed and pushed gently back against the intruding object as if inviting me further in.

She shifted position and allowed me to spread her cheeks wider. My tongue slipped in to about half an inch before I swirled it around the tight ring. I darted back to her cunt and stabbed it fully inside before returning to the tight confines of her clenching arse hole.

Debbie forced her arse high in the air and followed my mouth upward as I withdrew and ran it further down, back to the, now fully exposed, erect and engorged protrusion of her clit. I drew it in between my pursed lips making her tense and then buck to another fierce orgasm as she thrust it backwards against my face.

As her muscles contracted, she sank her torso down and I drove my tongue at her brown bud, wilfully presented before it. Her arse gripped and pulsed against it as each wave of orgasm ripped through her. She was a gibbering mass, clammy and covered in a shimmering sheen of sweat. She was completely at my mercy. She grunted and tensed with each stab of my tongue, as if in the throes of a relentless climax.

I withdrew my tongue and stood. She raised her arse up and invited me to enter her. I hadn’t had sex for months and wanted to get full value. I knew she wanted me to fuck her arse but I wasn’t ready yet.

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