My name is Richard. I am 31 and married to Ann who is 28. I am a junior partner in a small firm of Solicitors in a West Yorkshire city and Ann is a Legal Clerk in our home town in South Yorkshire. I don't think I am terribly good looking, but being nearly 6' with short dark hair and always smartly dressed I receive a fair share of flirtatious glances whenever we have a works night out. Maybe it is because of my position.
I never followed them up as the girl I like is fairly reserved and although becomes a little giggly when she has had a few drinks, she never gives the boys any encouragement.
Her name is Julie. She is about 5'2, dark curly hair, with a nice figure and nice sexy squeaky voice, which is essential for a receptionist, and always smartly turned out. I think she is about 22 or 23 as I have heard her say that she has worked here since she was 18 and I know she has been going out with the same boyfriend since then.
Julie occasionally wears smart black trousers that show off her cute bottom delightfully, on other days she wears black skirts of various lengths, but what makes Julie so attractive to me is her range of interesting tops. I say interesting because Julie has a wonderful pair of full breasts and her tops either give a tantalising glance of her cleavage or are high-buttoned but see-through giving a clear view of her pretty patterned bras.
Unlike most of the staff here, I am not abrupt with Julie and treat her as an equal, perhaps being over polite as I admire her body as well as her personality, and I am certainly rewarded for my friendliness with regular flashes of her ample breasts as she busies herself in front of me.
We all send our expected visitors schedule to reception each morning and I often stop by to ask Julie to remind me who my next visitor will be. Ensuring she is seated in her chair, I stand by her shoulder looking straight down the front of her blouse as she efficiently checks my appointments.
It came to the regular Christmas party. We always lay on a late afternoon feast that goes on into the evening, party hats and wine and usual festive food at a local hotel.
As I live quite a way away, I take advantage of reduced overnight hotel rates so that I don't have to worry about getting home or not drinking. This party started like the rest, lots of false jollities as party poppers were aimed at senior partners, and lots of compliments to the staff for all their hard work. As the meal progressed, and the wine started to take effect, things got louder and louder.
I happened to be sitting next to Julie, not by any intention on my part, and possibly not on hers although we did exchange pleasant smiles when she came to sit next to me. Her friend, also called Julie, and one of the clerks to her left were becoming increasingly familiar with each other as the afternoon went on. Although Julie appeared slightly uncomfortable with this, she was also quaffing the wine and we began laughing and joking with each other.
It was obvious to me that Julie was becoming slowly drunk, as I probably was too. In fact I don't think there were anyone who weren't, some of the senior partners leaving after the meal while the majority of us continued with the wine and merriment.
Julie was wearing a red dress, the material tight across her large breasts and glimpses of white bra straps could be seen to the sides although the crossover effect did not put much cleavage on show. She had black stiletto heels and black tights or stockings, and a few of us often speculated that she regularly wore stockings.
As the afternoon went into evening some staff began dancing, half out of sympathy for the poor DJ who had been mostly ignored until then and half because they were well sozzled. One of the lads made a grab for Julie who expertly slipped his grip as he staggered onto the dance floor.
"Don't you want to dance?" I asked. "Not with that pervert, he's always trying to grab me," she replied. "Really?" I said, surprised that that sort of thing went on and that Julie was so matter-of-fact about it. "Hmm," Julie said, casting a frown in the miscreant's direction.
"Would you like to dance with me," I asked, half disbelieving I had the courage to ask for a dance. "Oh, alright then," Julie appeared shocked.
We danced awkwardly for a few records then decided to have another drink. We laughed and talked some more and both struggled to make much progress with our drink, already having consumed more than we had probably planned.
We laughed as we both started moving our shoulders to the next record, and I said "shall we try dancing to this one?" We put down our drinks and went onto the crowded dance floor, enjoying a more comfortable dance than before.
No sooner had we got into the swing when the DJ announced he was going to slow things down a bit. The awkwardness came back as the lights lowered.
Expecting a mass exodus I was surprised to see that even more people were packing the floor, denying us a quick exit. The music started and we shrugged our shoulders and stayed where we were.
Gently slipping my hands onto Julie's waist we began dancing slowly, if you can call it that. It was so packed that all you could do was shuffle without bumping into anyone, as the lights went really low.
"I'm rubbish at slow dances," I admitted. "Me too," Julie replied. "No you're not, you're a pleasure to dance with," I grovelled. "Thankyou, you are too," Julie softly replied.
All around people were kissing in the darkened room as Julie and I looked around before awkwardly smiling at each other.
My hands had moved further round her waist, feeling what was obviously a suspender belt as her breasts gently touched my chest, her hands resting on my shoulders as I held her fairly close. I bent my head down towards hers, placing my cheek against hers.
"You smell lovely," I whispered, and she did. "Thankyou," she replied. "And you look lovely too," I continued.
I turned to look at her and slowly offered my mouth to hers for a kiss. To my delight she closed her eyes and our lips met. First a gentle kiss then a longer one followed by an even longer passionate kiss as I wrapped my hands round her back, feeling her body and the outline of her bra, her hands tightly round my neck and her breasts crushing against my chest as we continued our kiss before breaking for air.
Conscious that my cock was becoming hard and had nowhere to go but press against Julie's stomach I kissed her again, and again enjoyed Julie holding me tightly as she returned my long passionate kiss. I let my hands roam to her bottom, feeling the unmistakeable outline of two suspenders as I traced her panty line across her bottom's cheeks round to her hips and upper thighs.
Another song started as the room stayed in almost total darkness and I eased my right hand up to her left breast. Julie gasped as I cupped her breast but this allowed me to insert my tongue into her mouth and she greeted it with rapid licks from her tongue before she followed it back into my mouth, still gripping around my neck tightly as I began to squeeze her gorgeous perfect breast.
"Richard!" she gasped as she suddenly broke off our kissing, as though only just realising I was eagerly groping her.
We loosely held each other as the music stopped and the DJ announced he was going to speed things up again.
We quickly glanced around to check no-one was looking at us. "Do you want another drink," I asked. "No, I think we've both had enough already," Julie replied, partially telling me off I thought. "Another dance then, or would you like a coffee," I offered. "Where do we get a coffee from," Julie enquired. "I've got refreshment facilities in my room," I resolved. "Nooo," Julie laughed.
"It'll have to be a dance then, but I cant guarantee I wont kiss you again," I threatened. "Someone might see," she pleaded. "Then it's a coffee or a drink then, I cant stand around talking with this," I said, gently easing her hips towards mine so that she could feel the bulge in my trousers against her stomach.
"Ohh, Richard," she smiled, obviously feeling the effect she was having on me, "I think I'll be sick if I have another drink."
"Come and have a coffee then, people are drifting off so no-one will know," I suggested.
"You're a married man," she half-squealed.
