Loading...I’m sitting here with my head spinning, completely confused. I need to talk this thing through with someone… I just don’t understand my own feelings on this one. I’ve honestly never felt like this before.
It all started last night. Christmas party season — the joys! I’ve not been in my new job very long, working in the sales floor of a national magazine (I’m not allowed to say which, but you’ve probably read it in the hairdressers.’)
For some unknown reason, they held it in the office. Always a weird one, when there are so many clubs or restaurants we could have gone out to, but that’s management for you.
The office was packed, from top level management right down to the lowly folk like me, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. Partners were invited as well, but I was on my own because my so-called boyfriend decided he’d rather be out with his mates than come to a work do with me. Now ladies, offer me your opinions on this, I’d say that’s a dumping offence, wouldn’t you?
Suffice to say, I was doing the rounds on my own. Being new, I really didn’t know many people, and while I was hoping for a chance to meet some people I could hunt out on Monday to chat with, I wasn’t holding out much hope. All the girls were in ready-formed cliques, or busy being coupled up, and there was the odd bit of office romancing going on when the culprits thought no one else was watching.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t completely down on the evening: I had made an effort for this party, with my long dark hair curled and bouncy, my mascara and eyeliner painstakingly applied, with just a hint of lip gloss, and I was wearing my favourite short, sparkly party dress which I knew gave me a killer cleavage, clung in the right places across my hips, and showed off my long, tanned legs to their full advantage. In short, I knew I looked good… I’m no supermodel but I’m happy with my curvy size 12 figure and I know how to use it to get what I want.
Last night, I was pretty pissed off with the boyfriend, and while I like to think I’m a pretty moral kind of girl, I knew that if the right man came along, I could probably take him up on his offer with no qualms. So my radar was well tuned as I poured myself another large glass of white wine from the plentiful bottles our boss had provided, and sashayed lasciviously from one side of the room to the other, surreptitiously watching to see whose eyes followed me. I’ll be honest with you — and if you ever end up in the same room as me, you’ll be forced to agree — I’m one of the best flirts you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting. I know how to play with a man’s mind, and although they like to think they’re in control, they absolutely never are.
One guy had already caught my eye, a tall, dark haired fellow in a well-fitting charcoal suit. He was standing with another, older guy, and they were deep in conversation. I noticed the older guy clock me as I passed, but it was his mate I was more interested in meeting. I decided to hover near them, and quickly slotted myself into a group of girls who were gossiping by the sales floor’s doorway, positioning myself so that I could keep an eye on my tall, dark, handsome stranger.
I caught his eye. Result! Electricity sparked between us almost palpably. I took my time smiling and looking away with exaggerated casualness, counting to ten slowly in my head before I looked again. His dark eyes burned into mine from across the room. I looked suggestively at the doorway, inclining my head towards the seating area outside of the main office. Excusing myself from the group I’d slotted into, I rolled my hips in my best catwalk fashion as I strode out of the office and positioned myself where he’d be able to find me.
He appeared a moment later, two glasses of champagne in hand, and sat down opposite me. I perched on the edge of the soft chair, knees together, leaning forward to ensure I moved my perfect cleavage into his line of sight. “Well hello,” he smiled, handing me one of the glasses. “I don’t think we’ve met?”
“Lamentably not,” I purred. “I’m Jasmine, I’ve only been here about a week.”
He took my hand, raised it to his mouth, and planted a lingering kiss on the back, making the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Jasmine, I’m Greg,” he said. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
We gazed at each other wordlessly, both aware of each other’s sheer sexuality. I could feel my tiny black thong moisten between my legs, knew that my nipples were pressing through the flimsy material of my dress. Every nerve in my body screamed out for him to touch me, to kiss me, to take me somewhere and fuck me.
“So what do you do?” I asked, noting with pleasure that his eyes had swept over my body, and were showing definite approval.
He threw back his head and laughed, showing perfect white teeth. “I’m depute MD of this media company,” he said.
My face flushed with embarrassment. Imagine not knowing who my own bosses were!
“You look stunning when you’re embarrassed,” he grinned.
“Greg, I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” I glanced up sharply. The woman who’d spoken was around my age, maybe a couple of years older, with expensively layered blonde hair, immaculately manicured nails and a perfect size eight figure. Her whole demeanour screamed that she was fantastically well off. Underneath the glossy exterior, though, I could also see that she clearly had gorgeous looks to work with. Bright blue almond shaped eyes, framed with thick dark lashes, and full lips. Small, pert breasts topped her flat stomached figure and long, slender legs. A large solitaire diamond glinted on the ring finger of her left hand. I surveyed her, impressed despite myself. If this had been a racecourse, this girl would have been the top Thoroughbred, Best in Show. I had met my match.
“Jasmine, this is Ceri, my fiancée,” Greg said smoothly, touching her hip. She slid herself smoothly between us on the couch.
“Nice to meet you, Jasmine.” Her accent spoke of good breeding.
I was impressed, despite myself. The self-confidence of this guy, to flirt with a stranger in front of his perfect fiancée!
“I’ll go and get you a drink, sweetie,” Greg said, excusing himself to go and get more champagne.
“Make sure you get Jasmine another, as well,” she said. I couldn’t read her tone. For all I can read men like the open books they are, women always fox me. I’ve never been one for having a gaggle of female friends around me — just the same old trusted friends I’ve known since uni. “So, Jasmine, what do you do?” Ceri asked, once we were alone.
I shifted uncomfortably. Small talk was new ground. “I’ve just started here, in the sales department.”
She smiled, showing those amazing straight white teeth. “And are you enjoying it?”
I nodded confidently. “Everyone seems really nice so far, although there’s loads to learn!”
She gazed at me, her bright blue eyes inquisitive. “And are you here on your own tonight?”
I looked at my knees. “My boyfriend decided he’d rather spend the night doing boys’ things — he’s currently sinking pints in the pub. I’ll get a text around 3am telling me he loves me… that’s if he even remembers my name come closing time.”
She gave a loud, genuine laugh, which completely warmed me to her. “Men… they’re always the same!” she said. “If Greg had any say in the matter, he’d be doing the same, but he really wants the MD’s job so he shows face at all the social things. I’m here as his token blonde on his arm.”
I looked at her in surprise. “You don’t seem the trophy wife type,” I commented. “I mean, you’re beautiful, but you’re not giggly and dumb with it!”
She leaned forward and gave me a fleeting kiss on the lips. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all night,” she laughed.
I stared at her, confused. Had she just… had I just felt her tongue graze my lips?
Greg appeared back, with a bottle of champagne and our two glasses.
“Nothing but the finest champagne for this company,” he smiled, popping the cork expertly and pouring two large glasses. “Thanks, honey,” she said, standing up to meet him, stretching up to rest her toned arms around his neck as she arched herself into him. I idly watched them kiss, noticing her complete lack of VPL on her perfectly curved arse.
She settled back down between Greg and I once more as he took his seat, and our conversation grew louder and raunchier as the champagne bubbles affected all of us. I could feel the alcohol kicking in, relaxing my muscles, making me giggly and a little bit light-headed.
I was acutely aware of her thigh pressing against mine as she leaned forward and laughed at Greg flirtatiously, seemingly ignoring my presence. I could feel the smooth curve of her skin as though it was burning into mine, smell her light floral perfume.
Her hand rested on my thigh for a moment and I felt her nails lightly graze my skin, before she moved and I was left wondering if I had imagined it.
Greg stood up. “Right, ladies… I really must go and circulate. Will you two be OK?”
“I’m sure we’ll survive without you,” Ceri purred, pulling him into a passionate clinch. Fascinated, I watched them kiss, melting into each other, his hands greedily roaming down her back and over her arse.
“Cheeky,” she chastised softly, pulling her dress down as he tried to slide his hands underneath.
I couldn’t believe how turned on I was, watching my boss and his beautiful fiancée kiss so intimately. As if reading my thoughts, Greg blushed and reluctantly pulled away from Ceri. “I’m sorry, Jasmine. I’ll leave you ladies to it,” he said.
“Make-up check?” Ceri asked, nodding towards the toilets.
I nodded and got a little unsteadily to my feet. She took my hand and like a pair of naughty schoolgirls who’d had their first taste of alcohol, we weaved our way to the toilets.
“I really can’t handle my drink anymore,” Ceri moaned, examining her flawless reflection in the mirror as we waited in the queue for one of the two cubicles in the sales floor’s loo. I giggled, untwisting the strap on her dress for her.
“Me neither, I’m not used to drinking champagne!” I said.
She stumbled unsteadily on her heels, her hand grazing my breast as she steadied herself against me. Confusion and lust jolted through me, nipples jutting almost painfully through the thin fabric of my black sparkly dress. After getting so turned on watching her and Greg a moment ago, my body was now in a state of sexual frenzy and her slight touch caused a noticeable reaction.
I watched her eyes clock this, her face unreadable. My fuzzy head didn’t allow for much more thought as the queue moved forward, letting her into the toilet cubicle. I knew for a fact that the lock didn’t work in that second toilet. “Want me to hold your door?” I asked. “The lock…”
She shook her head, blonde hair swinging silkily across her face. “Just come in with me,” she answered.
I obediently followed her in, and leaned against her door to keep it closed. I’d never done this communal toilet-going before, I wasn’t really sure where to look. I caught a glimpse of her lifting her dress and sitting down… was she wearing no knickers??
I pushed that to the back of my head and avoided looking at her as she finished up and flushed the toilet.
“Do you need?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“I do,” she continued. “I need… this.” Her lips were on mine before I could register what was happening. Pushing me back against the door, her tongue probed wetly into my mouth, and her hands twisted into my dark curls sensually. It felt completely different from kissing a man.
I’ll be honest with you, I’m experienced when it comes to men. I once had to scrape a very posh young man from Southampton off my bedroom ceiling because I gave such great head. I can move effortlessly from missionary to doggy, to reverse cowgirl, without blinking an eye. I’ve met guys in hotels at random hours in the morning for dirty, illicit shagging. I could find the male G-spot with one hand tied behind my back, blindfolded, and spun around three times like a perverse game of pin the tail on the donkey. Although how that situation should ever occur, I have no idea.
But I have never done anything with a girl before. This was unchartered territory. And it excited the fuck out of me.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, her soft lips leaving mine momentarily.
“So are you,” I murmured truthfully, touching her elegant neck and shoulders.
She kissed me again, harder, more insistently. “Give me your tongue,” she breathed into my mouth.
I obediently let my tongue flicker into her mouth, feeling hers dance against mine, inhaling the scent of her, feeling the flicker of her eyelashes on my cheek. I knew my thong was completely soaked.
Her hands slowly moved through my hair, down my back, over my arse, and back up to rest on my tits, cupping them and flicking my erect nipples through my dress.
“Someone’s very turned on, I feel,” she smiled, pulling my tits out of my dress and using her knee to force my legs wide apart.
“Fuck, Ceri,” I moaned, as her talented tongue began to circle my nipples, one then the other. She smiled again, that beautiful, dirty smile, and I groaned deeply as I felt her finger find my clit through my thong, circling it and rubbing the damp material into my pussy.
“Ever been with a girl before?” she asked, crouching in front of me as my legs shook and I leaned back against the door.
I shook my head numbly, hearing the door outside close and realising we were alone in the toilets for the moment.
“Excellent.” She licked her lips, tugging gently on my thong and pulling it down before helping me to step out of it. “Come here then.”
I gasped as I felt her tongue lick my soaked slit, feeling my nails bite into my palms as I tensed up, knees wobbling. She pushed a finger inside me in one deft movement, greedily sucking at my clit and flicking it hard with her tongue.
“Oh my God,” I breathed, grabbing my own breasts and enjoying the feeling of friction as she roughly fingered me and tongued my dripping wet pussy. I ground my clit against her nose, trying to get myself off.
“Horny little girl,” she murmured. “You need to cum, don’t you?”
I moaned in response, urging her to fuck me harder with her finger. In response, she stood up, and kissed me hard, letting me taste my own tangy sweetness on her tongue. She slipped another two fingers inside me, curving them expertly to meet my G-spot and slamming her palm into my clit repeatedly. The sound of her fingers wetly sucking in and out of my pussy seemed to drive her crazy, and she ground her own hard clit against my thigh, leaving me in no doubt just how wet she was for me.
The whole situation was mind-blowing: me, with my dress hitched up round my waist, being fucked by this blonde Goddess, whose own pussy was radiating heat against my leg and who seemed hell-bent on bringing me off. It was bloody amazing.
The door outside opened and I heard two voices as girls entered the toilets, but Ceri didn’t seem to care. She was a woman possessed as she pounded my cunt with her fingers, rubbing her other hand over my clit. I bit my lip, trying not to make a sound as I tensed my back to stop myself from being pushed too hard against the cubicle door, and listened to those girls chat as they re-applied their make-up at the mirror just outside. I was sure they knew what we were up to, could smell my arousal as Ceri brought me ever closer to orgasm, but their conversations never faltered and Ceri grinned wickedly as she suddenly drew her hand away, leaving me disappointed, my pussy empty but still pulsing and tingling from her efforts.
Grabbing me by the shoulders, Ceri sat me on the toilet seat, facing her, and in one swift movement pulled her soft satin dress over her head and hung it on the hook on the back of the toilet door. She stood before me, naked save for her strappy heels, and wordlessly sucked my juices off her fingers before moving her hand to her own pussy, circling her clit inches in front of my face.
I could smell her wetness as she dipped her fingers inside herself, maintaining eye contact with me. She exhaled deeply as I watched her finger-fuck herself a few times, before moving her fingers to my lips. “Suck,” she whispered.
Obediently, I opened my mouth, taking her fingers inside and tasting another girl for the very first time. I was surprised at how familiar she tasted, her sweet juices tasting so much like my own, nothing like any of the men I had ever been with. The door closed outside and we were alone in the toilets once more, and Ceri bucked her hips forward, twisting her fingers into the back of my hair and forcing her hot, wet pussy against my face. Instinctively, I opened my mouth to taste her, and she moaned loudly as my tongue slid along the length of her soft slit. I was shocked at how natural this felt to me, and her reaction was really turning me on.
Feeling bolder, I copied her move from earlier and slid two fingers into her tight cunt, feeling her tighten even more around me as she wobbled on her heels and grabbed my shoulders to steady herself. “Fuck, Jas… Tongue my clit,” she moaned.
I kept my fingers moving inside her as I returned my tongue to her hard clit, flicking it and sucking on it in the way I knew I loved. She sighed happily, bucking herself against my face and squeezing my fingers with her delicious pussy.
“I’m so close…” she murmured. “Finger my ass.”
It was an order, not a request. I kept my fingers of my right hand buried deep in her pussy, rubbed my fingers of my left hand along her sopping wet slit to lube them up, and reached around her slim body to obey her. My finger found her arsehole, and I felt her start to tremble as I pushed a finger inside her, overcoming the slight resistance of her tight muscles.
“Oh God, Jas…” she twisted my hair painfully as she shook against my face, juice from her pussy flowing freely over my fingers and down my chin.
She cried out as I felt her pussy and ass simultaneously clench around my fingers, throwing her long blonde hair back as she came explosively over my tongue, squirting her clear, sweet juice into my mouth and down my chin, dripping onto my tits as she slumped back against the toilet cubicle door.
She dropped to her knees on the toilet floor and gave me a long, deep kiss, her long fingernails raking feverishly down my back and her tongue playing with mine exquisitely.
“Thank you for that,” she murmured into my mouth. “I never squirt when I’m with men.”
She ran her tongue down my chin and neck, lapping up her own juices from my skin. I moaned as I felt her lips brush my throat, I was still amazingly horny and I knew it wouldn’t take much to bring me off. But she stood up, pulling her strappy dress back over her head and pulling it down over her still-wet pussy.
“I better get back and find Greg,” she said, suddenly businesslike.
I was gutted. Would I never see her again?
She caught the look in my eyes. “I owe you,” she smiled. “Here’s my number, call me sometime. I think we could be good… friends.”
She pushed a business card into my hand and without caution, opened the toilet door, closing it quickly after her, and I heard the click of her high heels as she washed her face and hands at the sink outside. I heard the door close softly as she left, leaving me sitting on the toilet seat with my dress still hitched around my waist. I rested my head against the wall of the cubicle, feeling cheated, a bit used, and still very horny. I knew right then that I was not heading back into the party, but instead home to thoughts of Ceri and her amazingly skilled tongue.
So here I am, sitting here with my head spinning, completely confused. I’ve never fancied a girl before. But I know I have an urge to get in contact with Ceri. After all, she owes me an orgasm. Should I text her…?