Dorothy and I continued to have our "ups and downs" so to speak. I was permanently assigned a promising position in the head office of the bank downtown. We met frequently for short visits a few times a week after work with the usual frustrations. During the past few months we also had managed a couple of rapturous Saturdays. But, of course, we couldn't be together in the way that we wanted as often as we wanted.
In short, we usually were hungry for each other but could do little about it other than accept the hunger. But thank Eros (the god of love) for Christmas! Dorothy called me at the office one day late in November to ask if I could come to the annual branch Christmas party the second Friday in December. She said everyone at the branch agreed that I should be invited. Actually, I had got along well with everyone and was kind of "adopted" as a an ex officio member of the branch family. Even the branch manager had assumed a sort of aloof fatherly attitude toward me - probably because I appeared to be fairly bright but displayed a pathetic lack of the skills necessary to perform as a teller - like balancing my day's work, for example!
The idea sounded wonderful. The party would be fun and, most important, Dorothy and I might be able to spend some time together. I told Dorothy I definitely wanted to come but that I'd have to run it by Constance as a family courtesy, and to be sure there weren't any family plans. I called Dorothy back the next day to confirm that wild horses couldn't keep me away.
The party was held right after the day's close of business at the branch. The venue was a favorite suburban gathering and dining spot that had been a branch customer for many years. We were set up in a banquet room off the main dining room and lounge. Tables were set for dinner and open floor space was clear for dancing to a good quality taped music system.
I worked an hour or so later than usual because I knew the branch people would have to finish balancing the day's work after the late Friday closing, and wouldn't start arriving at the restaurant until at least 7:00pm or so. When I arrived a few people were already there, including the branch manager. I got a vodka and tonic to nurse and chatted with him for a while until Bob and Jan came in. It was good to see them again. Dorothy came in soon after them and the four of us took a table together for dinner. I brought Dorothy a white wine and sat down beside her. Her eyes were sparkling and when she looked at me she alternated between her impish conspiratorial grin and that doe-eyed look of love and lust. I'm sure that, to her, my eyes had the look of an adoring puppy dog.
She looked stunning in a very dark bottle green silk dress with scoop neckline and three quarter length sleeves. The skirt came to a few inches above her knees and was accented with diagonal pleat effect from waist to hem that had the appearance of a wrap-around overlap. The black stockings adorning her remarkable legs were very sheer. Her shoes were saucy black sling-back sandals with smartly high heels. She was a knockout and I told her so, "You look absolutely smashing - gorgeous dress!"
"Why, thank you, kind sir."
I had never seen Dorothy wear anything with an open neckline before. She was publicly quite shy about her body. Every dress and blouse she owned buttoned to the neck. This one scooped low enough so that a bit of her generous cleavage was enticingly in view as was the gentle fullness of the tops of her breasts. From the way her breasts had moved when she walked or as she sat down at the table it appeared she might not be wearing a bra - heaven knows she didn't need one to maintain shape or decolletage - but this would be a "first". I was certain she must have worn a decorative scarf during the day at the branch to cover her loveliness during business hours.
The four of us chatted spiritedly during the meal. We liked each other and, of course, had a common bond of knowledge of secret liaisons. When the meal was finished a few couples began to dance, but we first adjourned to the lounge for an after dinner drink. We took a semi-circular booth. At the moment I saw no other branch people in the lounge. Bob and Jan were clearly holding hands under the table cloth and briefly Jan hugged her cheek against Bob's shoulder.
Dorothy had put her hand on my leg and was softly stroking. I put my hand on her thigh - her legs were crossed. The silk of her dress was marvelously soft and her thigh, of course, felt inspiring. This was as close as we'd been all evening and for the first time I smelled her soft perfume. For a moment we shared affectionate glances. I moved my hand to her knee below the hem of the dress and caressed sculpted cap and the softness on the inside. All the while - with hands busy under the table - the four of us chatted and chuckled and innocently sipped our aperitifs. Every once in a while one of us would inexplicably stop in mid-sentence. I think we all privately guessed that meant things were happening under the table. Soon Dorothy's hand left my leg to warmly squeeze my hand and gently urge it further up her thigh. Because her public deportment is usually very conservative, I was amazed when she also parted the wraparound skirt feature until it felt as though it covered none of her sweet thighs. Fortunately the table cloth obscured all this from public view. My hand brushed over the lace trim at the top of her stockings and languished on the warm, creamy flesh of her upper thigh. By this time there was a definite stirring in my loins. Dorothy's hand returned to my leg and ventured very close to the site of my stirrings. And as she did so, she uncrossed her legs and left them slightly open.
My ardor rose and began to replace caution and I moved my hand between her luscious legs and up to her mons, expecting to feel delicate panty fabric against the edge of my hand. What I felt instead was the tickle of the pubic hair patch above her Venus mound! My darling vixen was wearing no panties! I turned to give her a guarded look of genuine surprise and got in return her impish grin and a tiny air kiss. She then placed her hand directly on my now very stiff penis. In retaliation, I placed my hand directly over her vulva and inserted a finger between her labia and began stroking up and down in that lush channel from her vagina to her awakening clitoris. Dorothy wiggled imperceptibly and opened her legs just a little further as she stroked up and down the length of my erection and tilted her pelvis into my fingers with the result that, on each down stroke, a finger or two dipped into her wet, fevered entrance. Every few moments she hugged my hand between her thighs.
Before long we each were in a state. It was clear there was no resolution to our rising problems here in the lounge. If we continued along these lines unabated we would create quite a scene. Giving her loins a little squeeze, I suggested to Bob and Jan that we join the others for a little dancing. I'll never know, but I suspect they likewise were in the midst of an insoluble situation, because all of us had practically stopped trying to chat.
With my napkin I dabbed the wetness from Dorothy's moist vulva and then squirmed about to get my erection as flat as possible against my stomach. I held the napkin over my front as I got out of the booth. My alert sweetheart moved in front of me to shield the view and we adjourned to the banquet room.
As assistant manager, Dorothy felt compelled to make the circuit of the room and wish everyone a pleasant evening and Merry Christmas. Finally we retrieved a couple of wines from our private bar and returned to our table to rejoin Bob and Jan. After just a few minutes I said, "Please excuse us, you two, but I'm dying to dance with this exquisite creature." And I took Dorothy's hand and led her to the floor. Bob and Jan followed.
"Thank you for walking in front of me leaving the lounge," I said as we assumed a sedate dancing pose. "I wasn't exactly presentable for the public but I thought we needed to get out of there and be somehow alone together - like dancing - maybe. You felt so wonderful and you were being such a devil with my... man thing... that... well, you know."
"Uhhmmm, I know," was her humming reply as she abandoned the sedate dancing pose and pressed closer. "You always make such a tent in your pants! You were sweet to get us out of there and onto the dance floor though. You also were sweet to dry my... precious loving place... with your napkin before we got up. You made me so wet I would have spotted my skirt. You were so hard I wanted to unzip you and take you out... and I melted when you felt my legs and thighs and... did things to me!" She squirmed into my groin and murmured, "Hold me tighter, Darling,... I like to feel you poking my tummy." With her head on my shoulder and lips close to my ear she sighed, "I guess it would have been... a little embarrassing... if I'd had an... orgasm in the lounge."
I whispered back, "Just a little."
The music was slow and Dorothy had molded herself against me, almost straddling my right leg. After dinner when people began to dance, the lights in the banquet room were turned down very low. "It's pretty dim in here. Do you suppose anyone will notice how close we're dancing? And, by the way, you're a devil for forgetting to put your panties on tonight! You feel wonderful."
"No one's paying attention. Anyway, we're not the only secret lovers in this bunch of party people." She kissed my ear and added, "And I didn't forget... I took them off right after work."
