Mark says…

A few Decembers back, facing the prospect of spending Christmas alone for the first time in ages, I found myself at an unaccustomed low ebb. Having split with longterm girlfriend Donna in the summer, I needed to find alternative accommodation fast. Yet a supposed month-or-so long stopgap at work colleague Gary’s house had turned into a somewhat more elongated stay. Not that Gary minded unduly, a fellow batchelor, he was glad of the company and even happier with the rent supplement, besides which I was his boss. I suspected that, with the New Year pay reviews impending, he’d be expecting a better-than-average rise this time around.

Having graciously let Donna keep the car as well as the flat, on top of being Gary’s lodger, I was his passenger on the daily trip to work. A fortnight from Christmas and, with the inclement English weather at its most mischievous, I was grateful of the warmth of the Merc that was Gary’s pride and joy. Typically one of those ice-cold December mornings straight out of a Victorian Christmas card, a light covering of snow brushed the ground, supplementing the near freezing rain to form huge slushy puddles. The breath from those walking along the pavement, wrapped tightly in padded winter coats, hats and scarves, was clearly visible in the dull air.

Enjoying being a passenger and, not having to concentrate too hard on the road, I didn’t really notice her until the very last minute. Dashing desperately for the bus in inappropriate heels, a white blouse and cream jacket, the twenty-something girl really was asking for trouble. Gary saw her though and, issuing an evil Bond villain-esque chuckle, veered suddenly to the left to churn through a massive roadside puddle of congealed sludge. Tyres spinning Catherine Wheels, a blanket of murky icewater careered upwards to splash the poor girl neck high, turning everything she wore black in its wake.

My work colleague howled with sadistic laughter as, in the reflection of the rear view mirror, the girl banged her fists, stamped a foot and bawled mute expletives our way. A right nasty sod at times, Gary could hardly stop laughing throughout the rest of the journey. Pulling up in the company car park, we headed inside to join colleagues about to embark upon another dull Monday. Still, Christmas was getting close and, with the festive season in full swing, a newly erected huge and overly-decorated spruce in reception brought some seasonal cheer, alongside the telephonists, clearly trying to outdo one another with the largest collection of Christmas cards.

An hour later Jane Rees, the office manager came up to my office to reveal that our new temp had been in accident and would be late. Looking at the piles of work that had accumulated thanks to a combination of annual leave and a bad strain of the flu, I sighed. “Where does the agency find these people?” I mused rhetorically, the festive spirit quickly evaporating and not for one moment realising the thilling sexual journey I was about to embark upon.

—

Kate says…

If I hadn’t needed the money so badly for Christmas, temping would never have entered my mind. But I did and that was why I found myself rushing around on that horrid Monday morning. Blonde hair tied into a ponytail and smoothing the skirt down my bum, it wasn’t until reaching the front gate that it dawned on me just how badly dressed I was. The cream jacket and skirt I’d worn to my last job a couple of summers back was totally inappropriate in the bleak midwinter. I shivered, almost loosing my footing as I stepped out onto the glazed pavement like Bambi on ice.

Seriously pushed for time, there was to be no turning back. I had to press on sharpish or risk being late for work on the very first day – not good. Heading unsteadily to the bus stop, I was lucky not to topple over two or three times on the way. Yet nothing could prepare me for what happened. It all occurred in a kind of slow motion. He knew exactly what he was doing, the nasty so-and-so in the flash Mercedes, swerving so as to plough through the puddle and send a tidal wave of dirty slushy water all over me. Dripping from head to toe, I banged my fists in crazed anger and let fly with a string of swear words before breaking down miserably in tears.

With no option but to head home to change, sobbing all the way, I knew before getting there that my ‘work’ wardrobe was stretched already, the tight black skirt perhaps more apt for the nightclub than the office, the split up the side far from subtle. The only other top that wasn’t a t-shirt with a slogan on it was a tight-fitting blouse from days gone by. Though I could hardly be described as busty, the blouse accentuated what boobs I did have rather obscenely. I only hoped that this firm had a relaxed attitude to female dress code. Lesson learned, I tossed the heels in a bag and slipped into a sensible pair of trainers for the journey, making a mental note to head to the shops after work. I was so ill-prepared it was untrue.

It was 10.30 before I made it in and, almost turning back several times, only the thought of money and how useful it would be spurred me on. Out of sight of the road, it was as I was about to swap trainers for heels that I noticed it: that same damned Mercedes that had drenched me first thing. A black fog descended and, not really thinking straight, I moved upsides, holding out a shoe. A grimace slipped from my lips as the heel scraped the dapper paintwork, a sound like the shrill chalk-on-a-blackboard noise from my schooldays. But revenge was mine.

Satisfied with that little piece of handiwork that left a nice dense scratch, I quickly changed footwear and located the carousel door. It was only as I waited in the reception, cheered by the huge Christmas tree and abundance of pretty seasonal cards, that it occurred to me that the owner of the car I’d just vandalised most likely worked here. Breaking out into a cold sweat and about to up and take flight, a female voice echoed in my ear. “Kate Lee?”

“Yes, that’s me,” I replied timidly.

“Jane Rees, office manager,” she introduced. “We’ll just get you issued with a pass and I’ll take you upstairs.”

Too late now to scarper, I figured no one could possibly suspect innocent little me of inflicting the damage.
Unless, that was, my conscience turned traitor. Oh God. My face turned a deep shade of crimson upon following Jane into the office as, standing at the coffee machine, the next person I laid eyes upon, was the driver, with the same smug expression I’d recognise anywhere. He glanced my way, thankfully without a hint of recognition (at least that’s what I hoped), just that knowing look guys tend to give when they set eyes upon me for the first time: heavy with lust and wanting, hehe. I had to run the gauntlet of a dozen more men, ranging from teenagers just out of college to those nearing retirement and all seemingly raging with testosterone. A cosmopolitan bunch, they shared a collective one-track mind, mentally undressing me. “Cor, is that the new temp?” I heard one whisper.

“Phwoar, wouldn’t ya just!” mouthed another.

You should be so lucky, I thought, making a point of glancing teasingly over my shoulder and pouting, despite having clammy hands and a heavily pounding heart over my unforgivable act of petulance. “Okay, this is where you’ll be working Kate,” Jane announced, bringing me back to my senses “I’ll leave you in Kirsty’s capable hands.”

And capable hands they appeared too. In her late twenties / early thirties, I assessed, Kirsty Peters looked a real dish. With a brunette bob and a businesslike demeanour, she was my professional antithesis. Thank God the job only lasted a fortnight, I thought. Kirsty pulled up a seat and started showing me around the computer system. A whistle-stop tour with a few giggles along the way, I was ready to begin work by 11.30. With the fax machine located near my desk, it was funny how many faxes were sent over the next few hours. By lunchtime, it seemed that every guy on the floor had been over to check out the new temp.

A quiet and uneventful rest of morning, thank God, I was getting ready to go to lunch when the peace was shattered and all hell broke loose. Mercedes Man, it seemed, had discovered my artwork. He stormed down the aisle, cursing and raging and heading for one of the managerial offices. Even with the door shut, it was possible to hear his raised voice, and I felt my face redden. “It’s got a bloody great big scratch down the side,” I heard him whinge from behind closed doors.

Serves you right, I thought.

The office door opened and he was preceded by the guy who I remembered had been in the passenger seat. Of medium height and build, his head was shaved, a look that strangely I had to admit I quite liked. “That’s the boss, Mark,” disclosed Kirsty in a whisper, rising to join the Pied Piper-like exodus as everyone went off to witness my act of malice for themselves.

I let them get on with it, heading off instead to grab a sandwich and familiarise myself with the local surroundings. Having killed the mandatory half-hour, the afternoon turned out to be less apocalyptic than the morning, spent working solidly. Having quickly picked up what was required, I was able to shift quite a few piles of work. “Wow, I’m impressed, Kate,” Kirsty enthused.

I blushed and, at that moment, we were joined by someone else, heralded by a shadow. “Ah Mark, this is Kate, our new temp,” Kirsty introduced.

I stood up and turned to face him, holding out a hand in greeting. He took hold, shook it and smiled, issuing the obligatory welcome and a look I couldn’t quite fathom. Oh no, was it possible he recognised me as the girl from the bus stop? Had he perhaps put two and two together? “How are you feeling now, Kate?” he asked in a deep manful voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

And his smile, gosh, I almost had to fan my face. “…After your accident,” he clarified.

“Erm, fine thanks,” I replied, feeling my cheeks redden. “Sorry for getting in so late.”

“That’s okay. I’m quite impressed you came in at all.”

Wow, everyone seemed to be impressed with me so far, well everyone apart from Gary, though I imagined I’d gotten away with that. As Mark turned and walked away, saying to keep up the good work, Kirsty grinned toothily. “Well Kate, it looks like you’ve won the boss over already.”

I exhaled, relieved at the turn of events. On account of the late start, a late finish was assured so as to make up the time, or lose valuable pay. The office thinned gradually until the only sound came from my fingernails clicking the keyboard. At least, I imagined I was alone, until a hand rested upon my shoulder. “Kate, would you mind coming in for second?” sounded Mark’s voice from behind.

My heart turned a cartwheel as I followed dutifully and he gestured me to pull up a chair to the other side of the desk. After a few more pleasantries, out of the blue he asked: “Kate, erm, do you know anything about what happened to Gary’s car this morning?”

My jaw dropped and my heart with it. Such a shock to hear those unexpected words, the guilt must surely have registered clearly on my face. I could feel myself overheating, throat dry, unable to speak “Well, Kate?” he prompted calmly, retaining a benevolent expression.

I stared up at the ceiling, avoiding his steely gaze. How on earth could he possibly know? Oh God, I felt so awful, so guilty, tears beginning to well up. “Yes, I do,” I confessed miserably. “I did it.”

My candid admission seemed to take him as much by surprise as his question had me. He took a moment to process the information, staring into space, lips pursed thoughtfully. Then he looked over and straight into my eye. “Well, if nothing else I admire your honesty.”

I bowed my head, avoiding his piercing glare, his words blurred. “You were the girl at the bus stop,” he said, before adding: “Not of course that that makes it right.”

“No,” I managed, then from somewhere finding the inner strength to defend myself. “It was a horrible thing to do. I was drenched through.”

“Yes it was,” he concurred genuinely.

Gathering up mettle, I stood defiantly. “If you’re going to sack me, I’ll be off home and not have any more of my time wasted.”

As I headed for the door he said placidly: “Kate, no, wait.”

Our eyes met and he rubbed the little goatee on his chin. Moving back I sat down again, trembling. Mark exhaled hard, not quite sure of himself. “It’s, erm, it’s not as simple as that, I’m afraid, Kate. Gary wants to involve the police.”

The revelation knocked me for six and I erupted in tears, head buried in hands. Looking up eventually after a good long sob, I apologised. Mark vibrated his lips then forced a smile. “The thing is, I’m in a real dilemma,” he offered diplomatically. Whilst I can’t condone what you did, I can fully understand why you did it.”

I looked over appealingly, brandishing panda eyes as he continued. “Plus, your work today has been first class,” he added, as if trying to justify things to his sense of fairplay. “And you seem to have brightened up the office no end. And we’re really snowed under at the moment,” he added, trying not to grin at his own topical pun as I forced a smile. “Okay Kate,” he said eventually, leaning back in the chair, hands behind his head. “Tell me, what would you do if you were in my shoes?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Are you really going to involve the police?”

He let out a pained-sounding sigh. “Hmmm, I need to give it some thought. Go back to your desk and I’ll call you back in in a few moments.”

I thanked him for his magnanimous approach to the sorry situation, before pulling up sharply, a thought crossing my mind. “What made you suspect it was me?”

“CCTV,” he replied, his hand resting on a video cassette. “You were caught pretty much red-handed, I’m afraid.”

I smiled awkwardly before departing. Doubtless he was thinking what a brainless bimbo I was.

—

Mark says…

In actual fact I was thinking how much I’d like to bend young Kate over the desk, spank her solidly then take her roughly from behind whilst grabbing hold of her ponytail. Yet that didn’t help much. What a dilemma I was faced with! Never great at making big decisions, being put in charge of a twenty-strong team, that was somewhat worrying. The truth was, I’d been promoted beyond my capabilities as a result of two former superiors moving on to bigger and better things. Rather than bring in an outsider with the requisite experience, they’d installed me in a caretaker kind of role. Things had drifted on like that for six months now and, although far from ready, I was given the post on a permanent basis. Like a school uniform bought at the start of term, I knew I’d grow into it eventually, but for now it was just a little too big for me. And something like this hardly eased my way. “Oh Kate, Kate, Kate,” I sighed, busy fingers drumming the desk.

It didn’t help that she was the cutest girl I’d laid eyes on in months. Not that that should sway my judgement, right? At that moment, the phone rang, a welcome distraction. Or not as the case may be. It was Gary, and decision time. “Hi mate,” I said appeasingly. “Did you manage to get it repaired?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Got a fair deal too. Turns out that the bodyshop manager knows my old man. Not only that…” he continued, voice lowering as if about to disclose some top secret. “I think I might have pulled the receptionist.

“So all’s well that ends well?” I suggested, trying hard to justify to myself saving Kate’s pretty neck. Oh well, here goes, I thought, a white lie but a lie nonetheless. “Look Gary, I’ve been all through the CCTV footage and there’s nothing whatsoever on there,” I disclosed guiltily.

“Oh well,” he conceded. “Thanks for looking.”

“That’s okay,” I offered, making a black streamer out of the innards of the videotape.

Two minutes later I was standing behind Kate, dispensing the news. She could keep her job and Gary wouldn’t be taking things any further with the police. She breathed a sigh of relief and thanked me before diligently returning to her work. I could hardly believe she was still here. “Go on, you should get off home,” I suggested. “I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

“But I’ve still forty minutes to make up,” she contested.

“Says who?” I replied, leaning over to sign her time sheet up to seven hours. “Go on,” I prompted, “You’ve put in good day’s work. Just try to get in early-ish tomorrow okay?”

She smiled awkwardly and it took another prompt to get her to move.

After returning to my office to sign the day’s cheque requisitions and some of Kate’s dictation – all of which was impressive typing I had to admit – I headed across the road to The White Hart. Despite being a Monday, there was a prevailing party atmosphere, courtesy of the festive season. The pub was all decked out in low-hanging paper chains, whilst spangly decorations adorned the walls and tinsel reflected back the lights of the fruit machine into which I fed a fiver. Mind wandering as the reels spun hypnotically before my eyes, I found myself thinking about Kate. She’d made a huge impression on me in such a short space of time and already I realised that I’d fallen for her in a big way. My resolution to avoid another bunny boiler was in grave danger of being severely tested.

Having done my money in the bandit, I joined a group of friendly acquaintances at the bar. Despite protestations to the contrary, a second drink arrived and I found myself being absorbed into a round. In fact, it was gone eleven before I could slip away, somewhat the worse for wear and stumbling like a Portugese footballer into a minicab.

As drunkenly I attempted to fit the key in the lock, missing the hole several times, I heard voices from within. Gary, it seemed, was entertaining. I opened the door quietly and crept through, eager not to disturb. Indeed he was entertaining, locked in a clinch with an attractive girl who, I surmised, was the receptionist from the Mercedes dealership. He must have assumed I was already in bed, for unashamedly they were getting cosy on the rug before the fire. I’m afraid to say, I was magnetised to the scene, gazing from the doorway with voyeuristic abandon.

Well Gary couldn’t deny having had one hell of a result on account of Kate’s destructiveness. The receptionist was stacked like a Playboy model and they looked real, jiggling naturally as she rode on his shaft. Occasionally he’d reach up and fondle or suck the nipples as he pumped hard from the buttocks. Gary was one lucky fucker – quite literally. Now why couldn’t I have his luck? Deciding that enough was enough in my sex-starved purgatory, I headed to bed, falling into an easy snooze. Roused momentarily by the screams and grunts as the pair came hard, before submitting once more to comforting sleep, I wondered what delights the rest of the week might bring like a child on Christmas Eve.

—

Kate says…

Having made an extra special effort to go to bed early on Monday night, I was rewarded with a seven o’clock wake-up the following morning. Another cold and shivery winter’s day, the urge to remain snuggled up in the warm air-trap under the duvet was almost overwhelming. But I’d pledged to get in early and hated to break a promise, especially after the huge favour Mark had done me.

Hop-skipping to the bathroom to avoid the cold tiled floor, I ensured the shower was piping hot before slipping under a jet of water that immediately smoothed away each and every goose pimple. Mmm, that felt so good, more so when the soft fluffy soap touched my body, rolling down my pert tits in thick white trails and hanging off the ends of each nipple like mini icicles. The soap and water felt great on my pussy too, coating the sparse covering of blonde. I had to admit I was horny as hell and all that was missing was a shower buddy. Hmm, I could think of one or two ideal candidates from the office. In fact, somewhat perversely suddenly the notion of getting into work didn’t seem quite so daunting.

Having made a quick stop-off at the pre-Christmas sales the previous evening, I was able to mix and match a number of cheap but cheerful purchases, plumping today for a vanilla blouse and grey slacks that showed off my bobble bum rather nicely. Still a little damp from the shower, the thin blouse stuck to my skin, accentuating what curve there was in my tits and hips. The boots I’d bought were far more sensible for winter walking and a blue Paddington Bear anorak would hopefully keep out the cold.

Tea and lightly buttered toast wolfed down, I toggled up and marched off into the dull grey morning. A fifteen-minute wait for the bus, as my body temperature dropped, I could feel my nipples stiffen and chafe against the lacy black bra. Unsubtle I know, but I wanted nothing more than to give the men of the office an image to remember whilst they were fucking their wives or girlfriends that night, or the younger ones masturbating with me in mind. A not unpleasant sensation in my tits, a series of tingles fizzed down below and I was forced to stifle a satisfied little sigh.

Coming to my senses, I noticed that a city gent, well into his fifties was watching me intently. I smiled inwardly, basking in the effect I seemed to have over men of all ages – and even the odd woman too. In actual fact, my previous two lovers had been women and, at twenty-two, I’d grown to adore pussy nearly as much as cock. Nearly, but not quite, for there was no feeling on earth to match the sensation of a good, hard, throbbing cock banging my tight little vagina. No strap-on dildo or hi-tech vibrator could ever quite replicate that feeling.

Lost in my reverie, I must have groaned aloud for, growing braver, the city gent smiled invitingly my way. When finally the bus arrived, like a true gentleman he ushered me on first. I thanked him with a teasing smile and noticed the sweat at his neck as, for a fleeting moment, he thought he might just have a chance. In hindsight the gracious act was probably just to check out my gorgeous arse as I mounted the step in front of him. The bus already full with commuters and schoolkids, standing in the central aisle was inevitable. The city gent managed to manoeuvre so that he stood directly behind me, physical contact unavoidable as the bus moved with an erratic stop-start motion. He was so close I could feel his racing breath warming my neck.

Wickedly, I decided upon a little harmless fun to occupy a boring journey, pushing my bum back into his groin and grinning upon hearing a baritone gasp of surprise. It made me feel like a dirty little slut as I wiggled on his bulge, mercilessly teasing a fellow old enough to be my father, if not grandfather. It did make me realise though just how much I’d missed cock.

As a horn screeched in the road, the driver hit the brakes instinctively and the city gent was thrust forward into me. I could feel the thick bulge rub my arse and hear the mumbling beneath his breath. Angling to allow even closer access, well as close as two sets of clothing would allow, was as close to sex as it was possible without losing one’s clothes and, for a girl who’d been starved of lovely penis for over a year, it felt blissful.

As the bus jerked and I stumbled, on the pretext of helping me up, the city gent placed a hand under my armpit, ensuring to get a good feel of my tit. Sadly he eased off a little quickly, which was a real shame. If only he knew! As we reached his stop outside the train station, he pushed past, one final feel of my arse with a firm warm hand. We exchanged knowing smiles and with that he went on his way, doubtless to relive the episode in his mind till his dying days. I’d bet good money he’d be on this same time bus tomorrow. Maybe I would too, maybe I wouldn’t, hehe.

—

Mark says…

Typically, I awoke with the hangover from hell whilst Gary awoke with the sex kitten. Lucky bastard. Still hard at it, his bed in the next door room creaked painfully like someone was being tortured. Finishing off with a flurry, both screeched till I was forced to rise and seek solace in the bathroom. However, I didn’t quite make it, intercepted by my flatmate who looked like he’d just run a marathon. “Mate, I won’t be coming in today,” he wheezed, eyebrows elevating. “I think I’m going down with something.”

The thought of the lucky bugger shagging that gorgeous piece of arse all day long did little to alleviate my headache and ill-feeling to the world generally. At least there was some consolation in the new temp Kate, as a consequence of which I showered for an extra five minutes, shaved carefully and applied my best Calvin Klein aftershave. I looked disconsolately in the mirror. Who was I kidding?

Even with the aid of coffee and analgesics, I was feeling no better by mid morning, head thumping, throat dry and hands clammy. After constantly being disturbed in my office over the pettiest things, I sought solace in the boardroom. With no meetings booked and being the sole keyholder, I could hide myself away in here undisturbed for a few hours, and feel thoroughly sorry for myself. Adjoining the photocopying room, it was surprising just how thin the walls were in these modern offices. I could hear the whirr of the machine, people talking to themselves and some even humming cheesy Christmas tunes. After half an hour I heard the first conversation, ears pricking up. It was Kate and Kirsty. Kirsty spoke first. “Kate, you do realise that every bloke in the office has the hots for you?”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” Kate replied modestly, if a little untruthfully.

“Sooooooo…” Kirsty mused playfully. “Any that you particularly like?”

From next door, ear to the wall, my attention was drawn raptly.

“Ooh, now that would be telling,” Kate teased.

“Jason’s cute, don’t you think,” Kirsty suggested.

“Nah, too young,” the temp answered dismissively.

“Ken’s nice in a fatherly sort of way.”

“Nah, too old,” Kate countered, before stopping sharply, why I wasn’t sure, but was about to find out. “Oh gosh Kirsty, you will never ever guess what happened to me on the bus in this morning.”

The lovely temp proceeded to tell her colleague about an incident involving some dirty old man groping her on the bus. The revelation caused my eyes to bulge, not so much at the nature of the anecdote but of the relish with which Kate imparted the tale. It was as if she got off on being fondled by some dirty old creep. But what a delicious thought! Maybe I needed to get the bus more often. It was almost enough to help me forget the hangover.

“Okay, what about Gary then?” Kirsty persisted as the photocopier churned out paper.

I heard Kate giggle. She then seemed to move closer to Kirsty and lower her voice. It meant that I had to listen really hard. Swearing her colleague to secrecy, the temp proceeded to confess to the car-scratching incident. Kirsty gasped out loud. “Oh Kate, you are such a badddd girl. Mark and Gary are so up each other’s arses I’m amazed you’re still here.”

My brow creased at the accusation of nepotism, a mental reminder to tackle Kirsty on that at our next meeting. She continued, apparently amazed at Kate’s brazenness. “In fact, I can’t believe Mark even let you come back today,” she mused, before stopping. “Oh my God Kate, no, you didn’t, did you – no, not with Mark? Ohhhhmyyygoddd you did!”

Phew, I wish, I thought, and what a thought! I was beginning to get somewhat hot under the collar and my cock was on the rise.

“Kirsty! I’m not that sort of girl,” the temp protested, before adding teasingly: “Though I probably did deserve a good spanking.”

In the next room, I exhaled hard. Why on earth hadn’t I thought of that at the time? Imagining the gorgeous Kate spread across my knee for a spank was driving me crazy with lust.

“Sooooooo…do you like him then?” Kirsty fished.

“Who, Gary?”

“No, silly – Mark.”

Kate made no reply and I wondered what that meant. That she didn’t deny it offered hope, though she wasn’t exactly declaring her undying love for me. Having finished their copying and assessments of the men in the office, the pair wandered back to their desks in giggles.

I made a brief appearance after lunch, feeling a little better after a bacon sandwichm but far from good. Secreting once more in the boardroom for the afternoon, I enjoyed an undisturbed snooze until five o’clock arrived. Sneaking back to my office, I busily set about fast-tracking the day’s managerial tasks. At half past five there was a knock at the door and Kate walked in. “Can you sign my time sheet, please Mark?”

I smiled. “So, Kate, how are you finding things here?” I enquired with a boss-like demeanour.

She smiled back. “I really like it. And no mishaps today like yesterday.”

We both chuckled, eyes engaging briefly before looking away. I couldn’t get the image that she, damn the girl, had planted in my head, of being stretched across my knee as I spanked her cute little arse. It was most disconcerting and I sent her on her way soon enough, regretful afterwards at not having suggested a drink or something. It was the ideal opportunity wasted.

An hour later I was on my way home, no Gary to rely on. I imagined he’d spent all day fucking, probably in every room, probably including in mine. I was thankful after a damp bus journey, that was nothing like Kate’s that morning, to see Gary’s note disclosing that he’d be out all night. Ah, the place to myself, I spread out on the sofa and watched three hours of trash TV. It was nice doing nothing, my last early night that week. Tomorrow, a few of us were being taken out for a meal by one of our suppliers, on Thursday I was at a conference that would doubtless degenerate later into a heavy drink-up and Friday was the office Christmas party.

A real shame that Kate wouldn’t be able to go, head office decreed full-time staff only could attend. In any event, our prescribed table limit of sixteen had already been reached. No bad thing, Coxmore Country Club rarely failed to throw up nice surprises, year in, year out. For although our office was predominantly male orientated, many different types of organisation filled the other tables. We got to mix with groups of naughty nurses, flirty supermarket checkout girls and horny hairdressers, all of whom naturally enjoyed a favourable female to male ratio.

Once the meal was through and the tables moved aside, it tended to degenerate into a free-for-all. Having been in a relationship for the past three parties, understandably I’d had to curb my enthusiasm .So this year I’d a lot of making up to do. And I figured that, even if I didn’t happen to get lucky on the night, there was always Kate to look forward to the following Monday. Life actually felt good for the first time in six months.

Wednesday went by unspectacularly. The meal in the evening was okay without ever threatening to be one of the great nights out from history. But at least it was free. Throughout the evening I found myself spending far too much time thinking about Kate and was regularly asked if I was okay. I even turned down the offer from one of our suppliers secretaries of a lift home, only to learn from Jason the following day that she pulled into a layby on the way back and gave him a blowjob! Christmas can be a funny time of year.

Thursday was going a similar way until, deep into the afternoon Kirsty came to see me. “Mark,” she began, all doe-eyed innocence and pouting lips as I glanced up, entreating her to continue. “Do you think Kate could come to the party tomorrow?”

Hmm, I wish, I thought, bearing in mind as each day that passed that she seemed to grow lovelier and lovelier. “You know it’s for permanent staff only,” I responded donning my managerial hat. “Besides which, our table is already full.”

“Couldn’t we squeeze her in?”

Again, I really wished we could, but we couldn’t. “Sorry Kirsty, no can do.”

“Ah well, it was worth a try,” she said with a shrug and did an about-turn.

Fate tends to work in the strangest of ways, and I’d barely got back to what I was doing when the phone rang. I’d hardly seen Gary all week. He was going to take off the rest of the week, he disclosed, adding sheepishly that he wouldn’t be able to make the party. I exhaled hard. For Gary to miss the event of the whole year, it had to be love, or lust, or both. Putting the phone down, I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. The company would lose its £50 fee if Gary didn’t go, yet I couldn’t just allow Kate, a temp who’d been working with us for less than a week, simply to step in. Quickly I fired off an e-mail to the department: “Hi all, Gary’s still feeling poorly and has dropped out of the party. Anyone any suggestions?”

A dozen replies came back in double-quick time, all proposing Kate’s name.I wandered out into the department and explained to everyone why, in theory, it couldn’t be Kate. But what if she paid the £50 herself, someone suggested. Sadly, as Kate was quick to point out, she couldn’t really afford that much money. In seconds, Jason had organised a whip-round, collecting £40. All eyes on me, I donated the extra tenner. To everyone’s joy, including mine, Kate would be going to the ball.

—

Kate says…

Friday daytime dragged by, especially as I worked through lunch in order to leave early. I could hardly believe how generous everyone had been and probably owed quite a few favours. As Kirsty and I were the only girls going, she suggested that we get changed at hers. I arrived with a bottle of wine to get the evening off to a good start though Kirsty was one step ahead, with a bottle already chilling upon my arrival. So we put mine in the fridge for later and made a toast to ‘enjoying yourselves and having loads of fun’. “You know Kate,” observed Kirsty with a wry smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before.”

I returned the smile and assured her that there were millions of girls around just like me. A sigh met my words. “Well, none that I’ve met,” she mused.

“Sooo, do you meet many girls when you’re out and about then?” I enquired, fishing for information and emboldened by the first glass warming my belly.

She blushed but said nothing.

“Look, I’d better be getting showered,” I pointed out, glancing at the clock and necking another glass.

“Um Kate,” she mouthed. “Don’t lock the door.”

I raised my eyebrows and she blushed again before clarifying: “I’ve, erm, some fresh towels to drop in.”

The steaming shower felt wonderful on a body that had been ravaged by the elements all week and chilled by the two glasses of wine, imparting an immediate rosy glow. Lines of soapy gel caressed my skin as it descended, licking at my breasts and swirling at my feet as the week’s fatigue was washed away down the plughole.

Through the glass, thick with condensation, I watched as the door opened and Kirsty crept in tentatively with the towels. Turning off the flow, I brushed the excess water off the edges of my breasts and squeezed the ends of my hair before surprising Kirsty by retracting the shower door and stepping out to stand naked before her. I could see the lump in her throat and heard her breath quicken discernibly. Conquering her reticence she stood her ground, allowing herself a long lingering look at my naked body, feasting on my pert tits and trim blonde bush. Turning away from her I said: “Put the towel around me please.”

She took a step forward and wrapped the soft towel around my shoulders, rubbing them. “Mmm, that feels nice,” I gushed, before turning to face her.

We stood level, appraising one another. As we moved in closer, it was my neck that craned, head twisting to avoid a clash of noses. “Oh Kate…” she began before the words were muffled in my lips.

The towel slipped off to pool at my feet and I brought her to my wet body. Reaching around, we stroked one another’s necks as our lips made little popping sounds upon contact. Drawing back, the huge grin on my face was mirrored on hers. “God, I’ve wanted to do that all week,” she admitted.

“Me too,” I concurred, gazing at her t-shirt that was all damp from my body and sticking to her braless breasts.

With that we pushed our faces together once more, mouths parting this time to allow two eager tongues to rove freely and eagerly. Kirsty’s heart was pounding into my breast, muted only by her heavy breathing. Pulling away again, she lifted her arms and allowed me to remove the t-shirt as she tugged down her shorts and knickers till both of us stood naked. I absolutely adored her tits, a generous c-cup with massive swollen purple aureolae and blunt nipples. Taking my hand, I let her lead me off to the bedroom.

A new experience for me: at the age of twenty-two, I’d been with older women with more experience and younger girls with less experience, but never an older woman with less experience. As we lay down in profile on the bed, supported by an elbow, breathily Kirsty admitted that this was her first time with another woman. She’d fantasised about us, but had never taken it any further. I reached out to stroke her hair, gaining assurance that she wanted to continue. She nodded enthusiastically, driven by lust.

My body still a little damp from the shower, our flesh glided as I craned, angling my lips to her nipples. She gasped as a velveteen tonguetip snaked out to graze the edge before running it around the erect teat. Lifting that fulsome breast to my lips, I sucked purposefully. She moaned lightly, fingers raking the duvet cover. Shifting onto her back, she gazed up in wonderment as I towered over her. Knees raised, but quaintly pushed together, I stroked her outer calves. Caressing upwards, I reached the kneecaps and parted her legs, accompanied by a look of shock. Not one to be denied, I stroked an inner thigh as she assented to let them part, eyes clenched tight.

Taking a moment to admire her lovely-looking pussy, all brunette curls and plump pink lips, I resisted for now the overriding temptation to touch her there, palm moving to the area of flesh beneath her navel. This continued for a minute or two as she purred contentedly. Nearer and nearer I moved my fingers until finally I was stroking the boundaries of the pubic hair. And then, when she thought she might explode with anticipation, I went for it.

So intense was the foreplay and so full of curious desire was Kirsty that it needed the merest touch, the dip of a fingertip into pussy, to make her writhe and, dare I say, cum hard. And I hadn’t even got near her clit yet. Removing the juice-stained digit, I tasted Kirsty’s sex on it. It was delicious, musky yet with a sweet palate all of its own. I couldn’t wait to get down, lick that gorgeous crack and feast upon those previously uncovered delights. All the time Kirsty was groaning and telling me how much she loved a woman’s touch.

Despite wanting nothing more than to make love to this sensual older woman, conscious of time I kissed her and made a heartfelt promise: if we didn’t pull any decent guys at the party we could always play with one another later. Kirsty loved that idea, a win-win situation if ever there was one, rising to hug me warmly. Easing back, I remided her she still had lots to do if she wanted to compete with me for male attention. Pouting and hurrying her off to shower, I was sorely tempted to join her, stopped only by the thought of getting all wrinkly and never leaving her house. Well we couldn’t have that, could we?

Instead I had a little lie-down on Kirsty’s bed before rising to dress. As she came in, all sweet-smelling and damp, her eyes very nearly popped out. “Oh my God Kate, you are not wearing that, are you?”

Okay, let me describe that particular top. Silver and see-through figure-hugging polyester, it comprised horizontal bands in a chain-mail effect, every other band a see-through one. As it stretched over my breasts, lines of flesh were unveiled like a blind on a window. Tantalisingly it stopped short, just above the navel. The skirt I’d chosen to accompany it was equally revealing, micro of course in powder blue. “You don’t like?” I enquired with a little girl face.

“Oh I do, I do, I do, but in that you can’t fail to pull,” she replied with a frown, remembering my promise from earlier. “God, Kate, you are soooooooo going to put me and all the other girls in the shade tonight.”

I had to admit that the white and orange blouse with flared sleeves she’d chosen for the occasion did look staid and frumpy in comparison. Reading my dirty mind, she discarded the top and searched feverishly in the wardrobe for something, dare I say it, a little sluttier. I moved in closer to help, our hips brushing. “I haven’t worn anything that end of the rail for years,” she imparted.

“Maybe that’s what you need then,” I reasoned, removing a basque-type top in red and black that looked straight out of Moulin Rouge.

“I cannot wear that!” she protested. “God knows what I was thinking when I bought it…”

“Go on, be a devil,” I prompted, “You’ll look gorgeous, I promise.”

“Kate no, I can’t…”

“Okay,” I agreed magnanimously. “I understand. But, just for me, show me what it looks like on you.”

With a little further cajoling, Kirsty consented. Wow, it was tight, displaying her curves superbly as a pair of round breasts lifted and pushed together to form the mother of all cleavages. “Oh, you simply must wear it tonight,” I gushed.

“Kate, no,” she argued, making to undo it.

“Damn Kirsty, have you seen the time…?”

Outside a horn sounded. Looking at Kirsty and seeing my own reflection, I didn’t for one minute imagine it would be the last horn of the evening. Was I feeling horny or what? “Quick, the minibus is here,” I squealed. “No time to dither or they’ll leave without us.”

You should have seen their expressions as we boarded the minibus, fourteen pairs of lustful eyes mentally undressing both of us, if that were necessary. As I passed Mark and took the seat behind, I gave him an extra special smile.

—

Mark says…

I was hoping for a good fun night, playing the field as only a single man can, perhaps picking up a few phone numbers along the way and maybe even a couple of slow dances towards the end. I might even have tried to bed any half-decent girl that showed a passing interest or was drunk enough not to care, my room upstairs at the country club booked just on the offchance. But all that went flying out the window when Kate climbed aboard the coach. I was absolutely smitten and everything else paled into insignificance.

Glancing around the seat as the journey started, I complimented Kate – and Kirsty – on how gorgeous they looked. It wasn’t just my being magnanimous or trying to make it less obvious how much I fancied Kate, Kirsty genuinely looked sexy too. They thanked me and said that I looked smart too – the liars! I’d put on the dinner jacket, though it wasn’t compulsory black tie, simply to get my money’s worth.The three of us flirted innocently throughout the journey though with thirteen other men on the coach and a hundred more at the venue, my work would be cut out to retain their interest.

Upon arriving at Coxmore Country Club, coats were hung in the cloakroom, all eyes understandably on Kate. As she moved, the top she’d chosen to wear was prone to revealing flashes of breast. Yet she seemed not to be fazed, even appearing to bask in the attention, no hint of self-consciousness and at ease with her body. And at the same time, she was approachable, unlike so many stunners can be.

A free bar – well for £50 a head I’d expect nothing less – I organised the round as the others took their seats for dinner. Last to arrive at the table, I found myself about as far away from Kate as it was possible to be. Whilst naturally I could have exercised my seniority to turf Jason out of his seat, I figured there’d be time enough with Kate later. The night was young and I could hardly blame any guy for trying it on with the beautiful and vivacious temp.

The meal was of unquestionable quality, as we’d come to expect over the years, padded out with small talk, cracker pulling and joke telling as the wine flowed. At the end, the youngsters, including Kate, did a round of shots, whilst the rest of us, the oldies, enjoyed a more traditional brandy. The DJ got the music going and, as tables were moved to the sides, little groups started forming around the circumference.

A few more rounds of drink and the first of the girls – the nurses – took eagerly to the dancefloor, as the guys ran the rule over them from the wings. A typical Christmas party, spirits were high on the promise of what might come. Soon the gaudy hairdressers were up too as the party heaved into full swing with some seasonal favourites. Wham, Slade, Shakin’ Stevens and all, they came thick and fast.

An hour later and, with no sign of Kate for some time, I embarked upon a circuit of the venue without success. Cursing my procrastination, I imagined some other lucky guy would by now be monopolising her. As another hour passed without sign and, beginning to get drunk on Apple Hooch, I had almost put Kate out mind as I eyed up one of the nurses. A hint of reciprocation and I stole a breath, bottle tipped up and emptied, its sweet conents breakdancing in my belly. I was just about to make my move when Kirsty stepped in between me and the nurse. “Have you seen Kate?” she shouted into my ear above the music.

“Not since the meal,” I hollered back. “I assumed she was with you.”

“I assumed she was with you.”

I was flattered but regrettably had to deny the charge. We moved in amongst those thickly squeezed onto the dancefloor, but to no avail. She wasn’t at the bar either, nor an adjacent room set aside for those who didn’t want to be deafened by loud music. In addition, none of the drunken colleagues we bumped into had seen her either, much to their regret. Looking at one another quizzically, we decided to split up and go off in search. “I’ll look outside,” I suggested, not much relishing the prospect of the freezing night, but deeming it my duty as the most senior member of staff.

As I headed to the cloakroom to get my coat, Kirsty went off upstairs.

—

Kate says…

I awoke, not quite sure where I was, head spinning crazily. It wasn’t a bed but it was nice and soft, very comfortable and I wasn’t inclined to move. Unused to drinking quite in this quantity, I’d passed out. Hearing a voice speak my name and opening my eyes, the realisation dawned that I was in the cloakroom. A pile of overflowed coats that the pegs couldn’t accommodate provided my nice soft mattress. “Mark, hi,” I replied, trying not to sound too drunk.

“We were getting worried about you,” he said with a smile. “The party’s just getting going and everyone’s been asking where you are. Are you coming back in?”

“My legs have gone to sleep, not sure I can manage it,” I countered.

“Probably a wise choice, music’s too loud anyway,” he imparted, before adding: “God I’m really showing my age.”

With that he sat down next to me on the pile of coats. I shifted up and began to apologise for my drunken performance. “Kate, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m just glad to see you’re safe and sound.”

I smiled. Rooted to the spot as he tilted his head, before I knew what was happening, a hand was behind my head encouraging it forward and our lips touched. At first it came as something of a shock that Mark would attempt this but, when I realised just how good it felt, I kissed him back, with real passion. The kiss seemed to last for ages and left me completely breathless.

As we pulled apart, he seemed pleasantly surprised by the reaction and the strength of my kiss, his smile radiant. Moving back close, a pair of strong hands roamed all over my back as his tongue slid against a set of lips that parted quickly to allow entrance. His tongue slipped against mine, making sensuous and wet contact and I found myself moaning softly as his hands slid down beneath my bum and pulled me more tightly to him. As he rose to stand I followed, our lips never once breaking contact.

Rocking gently together like we were dancing, the dull phud of the muted disco provided the backbeat. We continued that way for some time before Mark felt the growing need to move on. His hands moved off my bottom and up my sides, before moving around to the front. His fingers moved slowly and deliberately, teasing each breast through the flimsy top until I lifted my arms.

The soft and gentle yet firm contact of his fingers was beginning to arouse me and I found myself swaying on unsteady feet. I moved them further apart so as not lose balance, though somehow I just knew he’d catch me in those strong arms if I fell. A heave upwards by him and the top came off, leaving me in a bra that was quickly removed by my boss’ sure fingers.

My head tilted back, eyes closed and mouth open as I gasped with the pleasure of his touch all over, sparing no part. As his fingertips made contact with my bare body, he leaned forward and kissed my neck. Such intense pleasure, a hoarse moan vibrated from my lips. His palms elevated until they were resting along the outer edges of my compact breasts, lightly caressing the skin there and passing an electric sensation between them.

His kisses moved from my neck, across my shoulder, and then slowly, ever so slowly, down to the left breast. I moaned aloud as his lips began to caress the flesh of my tit, arching my back and pressing as his tongue roved across the nipple. Angling, he nuzzled the aroused teat, sucking it into his mouth and letting his tongue slide full length across the erect little nub. I was in ecstasy, sighing in pleasure as the wet warmth engulfed my breast. He continued to lick and suck before moving slowly across to the other boob, repeating the process, only more patiently if that were possible. My fingers reached to rake his scalp, holding his head firmly against my chest as I mewed continuously.

Finally, when it felt like my breasts might explode, Mark eased back, stopping momentarily and seeking unspoken permission to continue. I smiled my assurance and, bending down he began to slide his mouth further down my body, maintaining a light contact. He’d stop every so often to kiss and lick at the flesh, taking time to let his tongue dance around my navel, causing me to squirm appreciatively above him.

Finally he reached the waistline of my skirt, fingers fumbling at the buttons. I aided the process by reaching behind and loosening my thong, letting it slide free down my long legs until I was naked beneath the skirt. Knowing that on the other side of that light piece of fabric my bare pussy awaited, Mark’s hands were shaking in anticipation.

It took a little longer than it should have to undo the buttons of the skirt which dropped slowly down my hips to join the thong on the floor. His eyes were riveted on my crotch, the soft and downy blonde pubic hair causing him to sigh wantonly. Beyond them, my pussylips were pouting, full and glistening with my juices. Extending his hands to push me back into the soft padded coats hanging on pegs, he waddled in closer on his knees. Crotch high, he couldn’t resist the urge to taste, tongue sliding out as he leaned in. Turned on by now to the point of no return, I could feel the juices building deliciously in my loins. He slipped his tongue across my swollen lips and I shuddered, releasing some juice into his waiting mouth.

He repeated the lipsmacking motion achieving the same result, only more fruitful, a veritable flurry of pussy juice glistening on his smile. Then, taking firm hold of my buttocks, he began to lick in earnest, moving his tongue lightly and rapidly across my flesh, probing the opening. I writhed above him, hands held high to steady myself, gripping the tops of two coatpegs for support. Lifting my legs, I kicked out like a Can Can dancer, wrapping my knees tightly around his head and pulling him closer to my now gaping vagina.

It was a wonder he didn’t suffocate but instead he carried on licking urgently, tongue fleeting across my labia and teasing me like crazy. Just when I thought he might draw back and leave me on the verge, his tongue extended almost telescopically, moving up to circle my now-exposed and obscenely swollen clit. He flicked his tongue lightly over it, causing me to squeal in delight. As I gripped the pegs so tightly it began to hurt my palms, he did it again and again and again, and then sucked the little nub into his mouth.

As he did that, I let out a loud and unadulterated groan and began bucking lewdly against him. I wanted as much of him inside me as he could give. His tongue was like a chameleon’s, flicking wildly. As the orgasm ranged in close, my juices flowed out uncontrollably, coating his chin. He let his tongue slide out momentarily to collect some of the wonderful nectar, before popping it back in and wiggling till I convulsed all over him. I squealed, experiencing the most amazing orgasm for quite some time, perhaps the best any guy had ever managed to give me orally. God only knew what his cock was going to be like inside me, and I shuddered at the thought.

As the slow tunes began in earnest in the main hall, we gathered up our discarded clothes and dressed hastily. Just as well, for at that moment we were no longer alone. “Oh, you found her then,” Kirsty observed.

“I did,” Mark replied, guiltily moving to wipe a backhand across his smattered lips.

Surely Kirsty couldn’t have failed to notice the reek of pussy on the air. Indeed, before Mark was able to clean his face properly, she had unashamedly pressed her lips to his, making an unexpected move on my man. I watched dumbfounded as she moulded her face to his. Breaking away she purred, complimenting me on the taste. “I think we should continue this in your room, don’t you think?” she suggested to Mark, displaying a newfound boldness.

“Yes, erm, why not?” he mumbled, equally taken aback.

I didn’t remain mad for too long. “It’s your lucky night,” I whispered, taking his arm on the left as Kirsty took the right.

The poor guy looked as white as a sheet.

—

Mark says…

Well what an amazing turn of events. One minute I was downcast and contemplating making a move on the first girl that showed a passing interest and now, here I was heading up to my room with Kate and Kirsty. Whilst I had little doubt alcohol had played a major part, what was I to do? The time for acting gentlemanly had long passed. Besides, tasting Kate’s delicious pussy had given me the most massive and throbbing erection imaginable and one that just wouldn’t abate.

Little preamble, both girls, it seemed, were equally as horny as I was, flirting with one another as they plotted the next move. “So, you want me like this, Markie?” Kate teased, hands placed on top of the bed, bum wiggling.

“Wow yes,” I enthused, moving in close to smooth the tiny skirt up her thighs.

Taking a moment to admire the sexy temp’s round and exposed arse, my breath raced as I reached to remove the thong. Almost subconsciously, however, my hand was drawn to beneath to her crotch, fingertips making contact with the underside and rubbing damp pussylips through the nylon barrier. Kate gasped and arched back as if trying to get more of my digits inside. Moving my hands to the sides, I hooked my thumbs through the bows and yanked down.

As the thong came away and eased down her thighs, a string of dew stretched from Kate’s pussy to the sticky crotch. Was she aroused or what! Kate sighed as the cool air of the room brushed over her freshly-exposed moistness and she literally begged me to fuck her. Suddenly a wicked thought came to mind. “I think I still owe you this,” I stated.

With that I raised a hand shoulder high, holding it there momentarily as Kirsty gazed on, eyes bulging. Kate, on the other hand, had no idea of my intentions, the lips of her pussy pouting in readiness for a good fucking. Palm chopping through the air, I dispensed a volley of spanks to those lovely round butt cheeks. As much in surprise as pain, she squealed, sucking in air and offering heightened protests. Yet an obscenely leaking pussy gave her away totally. Taking a moment to compose, she observed over her shoulder: “Kirsty’s been a bad girl as well.”

Glancing across, I noticed the horrified look that suddenly took up residence on the other girl’s face. I gestured to her to move over and onto her front. When she refused, I raised my voice, exuding power – at least that was the idea. Quasi-grudgingly she moved next to Kate, bum raised and braced. Again I took a moment to let the tension build. Kate held her friend’s hand and offered whispered reassurances along with a little kiss on the lips.

Taking a breath, I let rip with half a dozen lighter spanks, figuring she might not share the same constitution as Kate. I think Kirsty was quite amazed at how erotic and sensuous the experience proved to be. By the end she was purring and would gladly have taken six more, I was sure. But the moment soon passed and she and Kate were kissing passionately as they ‘comforted’ one another.

The swish of a zipper from behind made both girls brace visibly in anticipation once more. I reached to stroke a cock that was as hard and ready as it had been in years. Donna was a sexy woman during our better days together but these two lovelies were off the scale. Not only that, I had them both to myself and neither seemed to mind sharing. It might even have been a plan they’d cooked up in advance though I wasn’t sbout to analyse matters too deeply.

Precum in plentiful supply too, generous globs of the stuff stained the purple head as I drew back the foreskin. Both girls bent over the bed, my eyes darted from Kate’s wispy blonde pussy hair to Kirsty’s brunette curls, and back again. They did share one shared a common trait: lovely ripened cunt lips that were crying out to be fucked.

Wasting no more time, I moved up and pushed my cockhead between Kate’s legs, letting it rest in the groove of her labia. Juices seeped out of Kate, lubricating the knob for the task ahead, if that were needed. At the same time, unselfishly I reached over and pushed two fingers into Kirsty’s adorable crack. Marginally less juicy than Kate’s, a pussy that resembled some lush oasis, it took a little probing to bury beyond the knuckles. Yet it wasn’t long before Kirsty’s juices were flowing freely too. As the pair were fucked and fingered in unison, both girls let out little whimpers of lust, sealed with a sloppy, tongue-twisting kiss across the bed.

Upping the pace noticeably, the first meaningful thrust into Kate’s luscious cunt made an instant connection, and she moaned loudly, revelling in the feel as the shaft stretched her pussy walls pleasantly. Half-submerged in that snug little vagina, I exhaled and eased back before pressing in at a more favourable angle, slipping even further down. I moved inside her until finally my thick cock was buried to the hilt in lovely wet pussy. I held for a moment, savouring the feel, head swimming. Building a slow steady rhythm, I matched it stroke for stroke with my finger movement inside Kirsty, occasionally brushing a thumb over her clit, a motion greeted with whimpers of lust. All three of us were in rapture.

—

Kate says…

The lovemaking was smooth and slow at first, as Mark found his way. His cock felt sublime, pulsing and bulging and jerking inside my lovely tight pussy, yet I craved more. “Faster, Mark,” I exhaled quietly, not an order, simply to let him know what I wanted. Readily he complied, still not ramming, but sliding in and out with an increased urgency. Oh, that felt so much better, hard and firm and purposeful. “Yesssssss,” I mouthed in encouragement, causing him to up the tempo even more noticeably until flesh was slapping flesh and we were vocalising our joy.

Next to me, I could hear Kirsty moaning also as Mark’s fingers moved in and out of her pussy with the same urgency as his gorgeous thick cock was in mine. Pounding me purposefully now, his strong thighs slapped my buttocks repeatedly as he worked me up into a frenzied wreck. On the bed, mine and Kirsty’s tongues were locked around one another, saliva dribbling down our chins as we sucked and licked. Finding an incredible higher gear and producing a powerful pump action, the likes of which I’d rarely experienced before, Mark banged his cock deeper, stretching the pussy walls and nudging my cervix. “Fuck meeeeeee!” I moaned in encouragement, slapping the bed.

I could tell Kirsty was getting close too for, when I opened my eyes, I saw hers were all glazed and her breath coming in fits and starts. It was then, with perfect timing so as to prolong matters, that Mark dictated a change of positions by flipping me over and onto my back. Despite her relative inexperience where women were concerned, Kirsty seemed to know exactly what was required, grinning lewdly. An exchange of glances with Mark and she cocked a leg over over to straddle my face. Her cunt squelched on my mouth and within seconds I was targetting her clit with a jerking tonguetip.

Reaching forward to take hold of my ankles, she drew them right back, exposing my gaping pussy to Mark. I gasped as he pushed forward and embedded back inside my waiting vagina, bloated cockhead working its way in deep like a power tool. However, the resultant gasp was muffled as Kirsty rocked back into place, repositioning a sopping wet pussy over my mouth. Almost passing out from the rich scents, a little flick upward with my tongue and I was back inside her wet pussy, licking like my life depended upon it. It was somewhat difficult to concentrate on Kirsty’s slit and clit, on account of Mark’s urgent thrusts that kept jerking my body away.

Blind to what was happening between the other two, I could still hear them kiss passionately above me. A little pang of jealousy – though I wasn’t quite sure towards whom the jealousy was directed – was quickly dispelled as moans turned to lengthy gasps, and my orgasm drew close. My sweet snatch-coverered face twisted into a mask of pleasure as my pussy tightened on his drilling cock.

A primal grunt from Mark preceded the huge spurt that made me scream mutedly as he ejaculated hard, filling me full of thick creamy cum. And he just kept cumming and cumming, milking his balls till surely they were empty. Seconds later, with his spunk sloshing around in my pussy and womb, I came spectacularly too, body jerking like an electrocution. The knock-on effect made Kirsty cum hard on my face, peppering me with bittersweet speckles of gorgeous pussy juice.

—

Mark says…

After that mind-blowing threesome with Kate and Kirsty, I’m ashamed to say, if not surprised, to report that I fell straight to sleep. I awoke in the early hours to the squeak of bedsprings and girlish giggles. Glancing down I witnessed my cock standing proudly erect and the girls fondling one another. “About time,” teased Kate as she saw my eyelids retract. “Go on, touch it then,” she mouthed, kissing her friend’s earlobe.

A little gingerly, Kirsty reached over. It needed more of Kate’s cajoling for the other girl to wrap a hand fully around the shaft, giving it a gentle squeeze. Still coated with a cocktail of my own cum and Kate’s juices from earlier, Kate squealed with delight, knowing exactly what she wanted to see Kirsty do. “Go on, suck it!” the temp ordered, clearly in charge of the situation despite her tender years.

Kirsty bent dutifully and took my quivering manhood in her lips, cradling the head before gliding her tongue across its expanse. Lying back, I revelled in the feel of Kirsty’s warm wet mouth and talented tongue. Yet slow and gentle clearly weren’t among Kate’s vocabulary. Moving in close, she nuzzled then whispered in my ear: “Fuck her face, Markie!”

Incredible how deceptive appearances could be, the cute little temp who’d walked into our office less than a week earlier was a lust-crazed firecracker. Eager to please, I repositioned until I was kneeling before Kirsty on the bed. My cock slid in until her nose was buried in a nest of wiry trimmed pubic hair. I had to commend Kirsty as she took the entire length deftly, without a hint of gagging. With that, and with Kate stroking my chest, I began to pump furiously, using her friend’s mouth as a fuck-hole. Kate seemed to love watching it happen, squealing her pleasure as I face-fucked Kirsty hard and unerringly.

Thrusting from the hips, the tip repeatedly jammed in Kirsty’s throat, pure heaven. Fast approaching a second orgasm, I drew back right at the point of cumming. Squeezing at the base of my cockhead, the spunk built up to bursting point. Easing off, the resultant spurt flew diagonally across Kirsty’s face, painting her lips, cheeks and brow. As my orgasm persisted for an inordinate amount of time, I emptied a couple of smaller loads in her pretty face before I was done.

Thankfully Kate was on hand to help her friend clean up, licking Kirsty’s face and nose, then snowbaling it into the older girl’sboth girls waiting mouth. Both ensured to swallow every drop of cum before Kate was satisfied. Only then were we allowed a proper sleep, squeezing into the double bed and spooning one another, Kate in the middle.

Unsurprisingly there were embarrassed looks when the morning brought sobriety, but memories that, for me, would remain forever. And from that point forward, life in the office would never be the same again.

—

A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all the readers that have supported me on XNXX in 2008. Your comments and suggestions have been greatly appreciated.

And a final thank you to Kate for her part in this tale.

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