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One Drunken Night

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John watched her over the top of his drink. She was Christine or Chris as she liked to be called, the best looking woman in the office. This was another after works drink that was supposed to help create a better bonding session in the office, but was in reality a chance to get drunk.

Chris was a terrible flirt once she had a few drinks. She would flirt outrageously with the guys but stop short of letting them do anything more than snog her.

Once their hands became a little liberal, she would shoot off and either leave or go and sit with the girls, as John found out last time to his bitter disappointment. He pretended to listen to her as he eyed up her long legs and remembered how it felt to slide his hand up the back of her thigh and grasp a handful of that wonderful ass. He wanted that again. He wanted more than that. He wanted to fuck her.

John offered to get her another drink, which she happily accepted. On the way to the bar to get her another bottle of white wine, he decided that tonight would be the most ideal time to get into her knickers. Once at the bar, he bought a bottle of wine poured a glass quickly and necked it back. Getting the bar man to fill the glass with hard vodka he poured it back into the bottle and returned to the table.

The rest of the girls were getting up to leave; they couldn’t really stomach Chris when she got drunk. A few of the men had started to leave too, but 3 of them remained, but were in a heated debate over football. He decided to play tonight cool.

“John! I can’t drink a whole bottle!” She laughed “I thought you were going to get me just one glass.”

“Well I’ve bought it now and I don’t touch the stuff” he smiled back.

She poured herself a glass and lit a cigarette at the same time. He was worried that she might notice the difference in taste, but the nicotine covered the flavour, and besides as she so often put it ‘if its wet and alcohol I’ll drink it!’

John sat next to her and chatted with her, letting her flirt with him. After she had poured herself another drink, she excused herself and went to the toilet. John went to the bar and ordered a non-alcoholic beer for himself and filled another glass full of vodka. He was slightly worried that the barman might say something, but he just grinned and nodded. He had just finished pouring it into the bottle when she returned and slumped on the bar couch next to him.

“God, this is going straight to my head!” she giggled.

John and Chris spent the next hour swapping pleasantries and playfully flirting with each other. All the while he kept her glass topped up, and listened to her speech becoming more slurred. Eventually she looked at her watch.

“Fuck! Is that the time?” She gasped “My husband is supposed to be waiting up for me. I’ve got to go!”

“I’ll walk you to the taxi rank, share a cab with you” John offered

As she tried to get to her feet, she fell back down on the couch. “A little help please” She laughed. John acting the gentleman, offered his hand and helped her up. Putting her arm around his shoulder, he held her waist and they both walked out of the bar.

It wasn’t far to the taxi rank, but with the way Chris was staggering it took longer than expected. All the while she became more drunk as the white wine and vodka took over her system. Whilst waiting in the queue, she turned to him, put her other arm around his shoulders and drunkenly kissed him. He put his arms around her waist and kissed back. Not wanting to spoil what he hoped was to come, he refrained from taking his hands anywhere, just yet.

John helped her into the cab, and sat next to her. When she got in her skirt had hitched up, revealing her dark nylon clad thighs and a hint of the soft creamy flesh above the lace. Both he and the taxi driver admired them and the way that her legs were slightly open, showed an inviting flash of red panties.

He told the driver his address and they moved on. When they started to approach his street, John leaned over and whispered into Chris’s ear.

“I think you had better get out with me.”

“No!” she said waving a drunken finger at him “Not tonight. My husband is waiting for me.”

“I’ll phone you a new cab from my house”

“I may be drunk, but I can still say no.” She slurred.

“Well, this driver keeps on looking in the mirror and watching you”

It was at this moment Chris looked up and saw the driver’s eyes watching not the road, but her legs. She pulled her skirt down and mumbled some obscenities.

“I don’t trust him; I want you to be safe!”

It worked. She nodded.

John helped her out of the cab and paid the driver, whilst Christine slurred words about the driver being a ‘fucking pervert’.

He opened the front door and half walked and half carried her into the house. John had no reservations about bringing her back here as he lived alone. He quickly turned off the alarm and helped her cross the threshold. Being the gentleman again, he helped her to the large couch, helped her to sit down, lit the fire and poured her a large glass of strong wine.

“Excuse me a minute Chris, I’ll phone you taxi.”

He left her sipping her drink in the warmth and picked up the phone. Waiting a while he held an imaginary conversation with a make believe taxi firm before returning to her.

“Sorry Chris, they’re going to be 45 minutes to an hour. Friday night rush hour for them.” Her glass was almost ready to drop from her hand, drained, her eyes, slightly unfocused. John sat next to her and pulled her face towards him. He kissed her, pushing his tongue forcibly past her lips and exploring her mouth, her tongue writhing against his. His hand went down her body and cupped her breast through her dress, before sliding quickly down the top and appreciating the flesh. It was a few minutes before he realized she wasn’t responding, or telling him to stop. He leant back and looked at her. Chris was fast asleep.

“Chris?” He tapped the sides of her face. “Chris? You awake?”

There was no response. His hand moved back inside her dress to her breast, gently stroking her, teasing her to react, but she didn’t.

He scooped her legs under his hands and lifted her up. No answer, he carried her upstairs and laid her on his bed and drew the curtains.

Licking his dry lips, John sat on the side of the bed and put his hand on her thigh. Still half expecting her to sit up and catch him in the act, he cautiously moved his hand up her nylon inner leg. When it reached the bottom of her dress, he paused for a minute. She was dead to the world.

He slowly pulled up her skirt, gazing mesmerised at her legs as inch by inch they were revealed. The stocking tops came into view and he quickly had to reach down to unfasten his pants just to relieve some of the strain. With a final sharp tug, the bottom of the dress was yanked up around her waist, exposing a satin pair of red panties to him. He checked her expression but there was no change. Reaching up he pulled the shoulder of her dress down her arms, exposing her tanned breasts for his pleasure. Moving his hand to her breast but watching her face, he gently squeezed the flesh. With no response he teased the nipple, and although it became quickly erect, her face didn’t change. He leaned his mouth down and watched her eyes for even the slightest flicker. Nothing. He drew it into his mouth, and closed his eyes to savor its texture and taste.

John slid his hand down her body and across her belly, a b-line to her pussy. His fingers easily lifted the front of her panties and continued down. He could feel her thick pubic hair between his finger tips before further exploration gave him what he was looking for. Carefully he stroked her damp slit, running a finger up and down its length. He felt her clit and teased it, his eyes scanning her expression for a change. Not seeing one, his fingers opened her slightly and pushed gently in.

She moaned and turned her head to the side.

John paused for an eternity, his fingers still inside her.

It was now or never. John pulled his fingers out and softly pulled the panties down her thighs, and off her toned legs. Getting off the bed he rapidly undressed and took in the scenery of her uncovered body. He got back on the bed and spread her stocking legs and lay softly on top of her. With his hand between their bodies, he spread her cunt and positioned himself. Bit by bit he started to enter her. A slightly harder push and the head of his dick entered her.

Again she groaned and John remained immobile.

After a moment, his wrists and forearms aching, he pressed in again. This time when she moaned, he pushed in again. He prayed she wasn’t for waking. Soon his whole dick was inside the little tease, and he still wanted more. A little less carefully than before, he lifted her leg up and onto his shoulder, before repeating the same with the other. He pushed in once more, his dick sliding in further.

Chris’s eyes opened, and looked at him directly. She had a look of shock and fear on her face. John pushed in again, hoping she wouldn’t stop him now.

“Tony, stop!” she mumbled

She thought John was Tony, her husband, so he thrust his dick in again. She shook her head. Pushing her ankles further back against her body, he pushed himself in again, his balls grinding against her pussy entrance. She closed her eyes and chewed her bottom lip, before struggling to re-open her eyes.

She looked at him again, puzzled and confused, this time recognizing who the man above her was “John? What are you doing?”

John didn’t speak but let his body answer. He pulled out and slowly pushed his entire length in, letting her feel every ridge and vein on his swollen manhood.

Every time she went to speak, John pushed in, sinking his hardened meat deep inside her body. She gave up and gripped the bed sheets to stop herself from sliding up the bed. It wasn’t long before she started moaning and closed her eyes again. Shaking her head from side to side as John leisurely fucked her firm body.

He pulled back and drove his whole length in again. This is what he had wanted to do since she had joined his department. He started fucking her vehemently, not caring of her body, but of his own bodies needs. She started panting deeply, “John, please we shouldn’t be doing this!” Holding her by the ankles, he hammered in again and again, raping her drunken little hole. “Oh God, John, Please, please stop!” He rubbed his cheek against her stocking leg, lost in the moment, giving a little playful bite of her calf.

Her eyes became fixed, the pupils gazing up not into his face but at the ceiling, lost at some imaginary plain, her breathing coming in short hard bursts. John didn’t care, tonight Christine was his.

Twisting his hips against her, he could feel her cervix trying to prevent him from moving in further. She started to make a whining noise, her eyes fully open, rolling back into their sockets. He held himself inside, writhing against it, trying to find its opening, its weakness. Christine’s panting and whining came together in a single cry “OH GOD I’M CUMMING” With a sudden yelp, she clamped her cunt hard around his cock, her body trembling underneath his. He held himself tight inside, and with a sudden drive, the end of his dick entered her innermost temple.

Chris’s head collapsed back on the bed from exhaustion and, her breath coming in heavy gasps, oblivious now to the situation she was in.

He didn’t want to leave this place without leaving his mark. With little thrusts, he kept himself deeply impaled inside her. He didn’t know if she was on the pill or anything, all he knew was that this was his time. The tight squeeze of the entrance on his dick carried him quickly to climax, and with a gasp he began to pump his semen into her womb. Slowly pushing his hips, he took advantage of her and poured out every drop from his balls. He hadn’t cum so hard for many a year, and with a final intake of breath, he collapsed onto her tranquil body.

He got off her body and decided that the best course of action is to get her out of his bed, dressed and get her either back on the couch or in a taxi home. Reaching down he pulled the shoulder slips back up her arms, and pushed her soft breasts back into position. God, they felt nice. He grabbed her discarded knickers and pulled her legs off the bed. Pulling the panties quickly up her legs, they snagged on the bed. Why was he rushing? She hadn’t come to yet. He flipped her over and started to bring the back of her panties up. He paused. He shouldn’t have, but he paused. Here was a tempting site. His dick was quickly hardening at the prospect of taking her from behind. She hadn’t stirred, why would she now?

His hand moved between her thighs and spread her swollen pussy lips. She was soaked inside. How much was his, or hers he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t help himself. He grabbed his semi-hard dick and rubbed across her backside and tops of her thighs. The sensations from her skin and the lace from her stockings had him hard in no-time. With one hard shove, he soon found himself roughly fucking her compliant body from behind. She started moaning again, nothing major, just his name over and over again. He gripped her garter belt she was wearing and rode her for all she was worth. His forearm snaked underneath her, lifting her behind higher, allowing him to sink in deeper, harder, and rougher. Her cries of ‘Oh John’ changed to small grunts as fucked her swollen pussy lips. Shit, he shouldn’t be doing this, a small part of his mind repeated over and over again, but it was drowned out by a voice screaming for him to cum in the little slut again. He obeyed. This time when he came, she murmured pleasantly and softy, her head caressing the covers of his bed.

Christine awoke the next morning, her head pounding like road works. She glanced around the place, trying to figure out where she was. Her eyes glanced above her and at walls and ceiling that were not her own. She couldn’t remember anything from last night. She lifted her head from the bed and tried to make out the rest of her surroundings. She found John asleep next to her, all his clothes at some point in the night, discarded. Her eyes traveled to his crotch, and she felt her stomach dropping. What had she been doing? She looked down at herself, Her top was pulled down, breasts exposed with little love bites all over them, her skirt was hitched up high above her thighs, showing off a pair of laddered stockings, the lace tops discolored and stained… She tried desperately to try and figure out what had happened without thinking of the obvious, but her memory returned nothing but blanks. Had she been that drunk? She got herself up to pull her dress down. Her legs didn’t feel quite right. Oh please tell me I didn’t, she thought to herself. Chris put her hand under her skirt and found her hand soaked, her pubic hair matted with cum, her panties removed and lost. Quickly rearranging her clothing, she sneaked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. God knows what she was to tell her husband, but last night defiantly did NOT happen. Silently opening the front door, she disappeared into the morning.

John opened his eyes and grinned. It had been a great fuck and he didn’t even have to make her breakfast in the morning.

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