The Office Christmas Party Setup

This is my entry into the winter contest. As usual these have to be a single file and mine are typically a little longer than most, but then who doesn't enjoy a sex filled Christmas party? Enjoy and of course vote often! M.

*

"I have a bone to pick with you!" Betsy said as she stepped into my office, pushing the heavy glass panel door closed behind her. As the door clicked shut with a subdued thunk she leaned against the front of my desk, putting her hands on the edge and leaning toward me. The red satiny blouse with several buttons open exposed the deep V between her two full creamy white breasts. It was impossible for me not to notice the cute pink freckles that peppered the round tops of her breasts and disappeared down between them.

"Okay. What's the bone?" I asked the sharp thirty something mechanical engineer. As the senior project engineer for the company I had the opportunity to work with most of the engineers over the years, some of them better than others and some better looking than others. In Betsy's case, her appearance was every bit as sharp as her intellect. If she weren't fifteen plus years younger than me, I might have been tempted to accept one of her less than subtle attempts to get me to date her, if nothing else to actually see out how far those sexy little freckles went. I leaned back in my chair, putting my hands up behind my head, preparing for whatever problem the fiery little redhead was bringing to my desk, a problem that must have been of my making from the sound of her tone.

"Funny you should use those words. You turned down Denise," she said simply.

"Oh, that." I said with a sigh. "Yes, I turned her down. I told you that I'm not ready to start dating again. I'm way too old for those kinds of problems."

She was right though. When the senior secretary for the engineering department tried to convince me to go with her to the company Christmas party, I said no. She did her best to try to change my mind, but ultimately the answer was still no.

Betsy pushed off the front of my desk and stepped around to my side of the desk, leaning her butt against it and sticking her legs out as she rested her weight against it. The black pleated skirt exposed her creamy white legs from the two inch heels all the way to just above her knees, her hands moving to her lap as she half leaned, half sat on the edge of my desk, her legs only a few inches from mine.

"It's been how long? Three plus years now since you lost your wife? Let's face it, it's long past time you got back on the horse and find yourself a good woman to make you happy again. I haven't seen you smile more than half a dozen times in nearly four years," she said plainly, making me glad that the heavy door blocked the content of our conversation if not her relative proximity to me.

"Betsy, I appreciate your concern, but honestly, I'm too old to start dating again. Hell, what woman would really want an old fart like me? I'm too set in my ways to change, and most women aren't going to be interested in accepting all of my quirks."

"Really?" she asked incredulously. "You've had how many of the ladies here ask you out now? Let's see...I can think of at least six, not counting me, and that's just in the last few months. Now you're turning down Denise too? That can't be because of age, she's only a half dozen or so years younger than you are."

"I'm just not ready to date."

"So don't think of it as a date. Think of it as...escorting her to the party."

"Yeah, like a date."

"What makes it not a date?"

"Well for starters, when it's not one guy and one gal."

"Fine, I can fix that. You can escort both of us, Denise and I, to the party," she said firmly.

"And this isn't a date?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Meets your criteria. It's not one gal and one guy. And you can make all the guys jealous when you walk in with two beauties on your arms."

"Betsy!" I protested, planning on saying no just the same.

"I'm wearing a dress that's...ohhhhhh....about this short!" she said, using her hands to pull the material of her skirt up her legs until the hem had inched up her creamy thighs until more showed than was covered.

"Betsy!" I said, looking at the mostly glass door, concerned that someone might look in and misinterpret what was going on.

"Oh? Shorter?" she asked with a devious little smirk, inching the skirt even higher. "Like this?"

"BETSY!" I said, staring now at her thighs as she inched the skirt even higher. I couldn't seem to tear my eyes from her legs, except of course to notice a little flash of pink higher up between her legs.

"You might as well say yes. I'm not stopping until you do!" she said, scooting it even higher and moving her legs apart slightly as she did. "You don't want me to be sitting here on your desk with my skirt all the way up to my waist, do you? Well, maybe you do at that." She giggled.

"BETSY!"

"MICHAEL! You know darn well you aren't going to claim sexual harassment! If you even think about it, I'll counter with how you stare down my shirt every time I come in here," she said, the devious smirk never leaving her face and her hands inching the dress even higher, the hem now so high that the pink panties were clearly visible. I could see the lacy pattern on the front, and little bits of white skin peeking through. I could feel my cock bulging out my pants as it hardened at the sight in front of me.

"Betsy, stop, please?" I practically begged.

She inched the skirt even higher, tugging it up so that I could clearly see the whole front of her crotch, the lacy panties letting white skin of her mound show through as well as little red curls sticking through the lacy material down a bit lower. "Then say yesssss!" she hissed playfully, spreading her legs a bit wider apart and leaning down toward me, her free hand reaching for my lap and grabbing my cock through my trousers. "See, you're turned on! Your body hasn't forgotten what to do with a sexy woman."

"OH damn," I groaned at her touch, something I hadn't felt in a very long time. "Okay, okay, I'll take the two of you, but on one condition!" I said in defeat.

"Sure, what's that?"

"That you don't keep coming in and trying to seduce the hell out of me!" I said sternly.

"You don't like what you see?" she asked, letting go of the bulge in my pants. She slowly lifted one foot up and eased it across my lap, setting her high heel on my chair on the other side from where she leaned against the desk. With her legs splayed much wider than before, she leaned back down and squeezed the even bigger bulge in my pants. "Feels to me like you do!"

"Oh crap. It's just not professional. We have to work together!" I protested, my mind screaming to reach out and touch her as I tried to resist the temptation.

"Honey, I watched you go from a happy, vibrant, intelligent sexy man to a sad tired man. I want to see you back to that happy vibrant playful man. Seems to me that you used to flirt with me quite often. I miss that!" she said, letting go of my cock and reaching for one arm, pulling it down off my head and guiding my hand to her thigh. "I always found your flirts to be sexy and playful, even that time you slid your hand up under my skirt when I dared you. We both knew they were never going to be anything other than flirts, but now...well now if you want, they don't HAVE to be just flirts. They could go farther if you wanted them to," she said, pressing my hand on the inside of her thigh and then sliding both our hands up her thigh until my fingers were pressing against her pink panties, the heat from her obviously wet pussy soaking into them and making my already hard cock grow even harder. "Just think about it, okay?" she asked as a quiet knock tapped on the door.

Abruptly Betsy stood up, smoothed her skirt down and then turned and bent over again, looking at my computer screen as if studying something intently. Amanda, one of the cad specialists opened the door and stepped part way through as one of the other engineers walked past.

Amanda gave Betsy a quiet nod and then turned to step back out of the office, leaving the door ajar.

"We'll pick you up at your house at eight for the party. Only two days away now, so don't forget!" she said as she straightened up. Then almost as an afterthought, she leaned over and gave me a fast peck on the lips with her red lips before she turned and walked briskly and businesslike from my office. Just before she disappeared completely she turned and leaned back in. "If you want it shorter I can do that too," she said in a businesslike tone, even though I knew exactly what she meant.

"No, I think that length will be fine," I answered as Amanda stepped back into the office. She stood there against the glass panel in the door, waiting for Betsy to pull her head out and walk away before turning to face me. While I might, maybe, be able to see my way clear to go out with Betsy, Amanda was another issue completely. She was a young black girl, the emphasis on young. She couldn't be more than mid twenties, even younger than some of our kids....well, now my kids, now that my wife wasn't with us anymore. Don't get me wrong, I thought Amanda looked very nice, well, extremely nice. She always wore short skirts and snug shirts and dark stockings, even darker than her light coffee colored skin, and very high heels. Today she had on a choker of white pearls that contrasted against her darker skin looping around her neck and hanging just down inside the gray blouse she had on that matched her short skirt. Now that I looked at it, it had to be a one piece button down, neck to hem, dress.

"So did you finally say yes?" Amanda asked quietly as she stepped to my desk still holding a folder in her delicate hands.

"How did you know what she was asking?" I asked back in surprise. "Were you her lookout or something?" I asked her bluntly after a few seconds pause where my mind finally put the pieces together.

In reply she just grinned at me, dropped the folder on my keyboard and then turned on her heels and walked out the door, swinging her hips sexily as she crossed the few feet to the door. She didn't have many curves, but the ones she had she knew how to highlight. That included a tight round butt that stuck out a bit more than her maybe B cup breasts.

I picked up the folder and opened it, finding several blank sheets of paper in the folder, answering any lingering doubts that I had just been very effectively set up. Well, Betsy was a very intelligent young woman who had a lot of drive to get what she wanted. I guess in this case, it was me saying yes.

The next day I found a calendar schedule item requesting a time slot in the early afternoon to do a project funding review with Denise and Sandra, our financials wizard. I responded to the request and arrived at the conference room at the appointed time.

"Denise." I acknowledged as I stepped into the conference room. Denise was already seated with an array of papers spread out on the table. I could tell she had on some sort of powder blue dress, the parts of which I could see over the top of the table looked quite becoming on her. It had a significantly deep V down the front where the material crossed over itself as it wrapped around her body. I could just see the edges of a similarly colored bra peeking from one side of the dress, the whole outfit tastefully showing a considerable amount of her C cup breasts and the cleft they created being pressed together by the bra.

"Sorry I'm late," Sandra said as she scurried into the conference room with her laptop in one arm and a stack of papers in the other. Sandra was a very petite woman, probably in her mid to late thirties with a distinctly Asian appearance. She typically wore very conservative, although snug fitting outfits, and today was no exception. She wore a gray pencil skirt, a white blouse with ruffles sticking out the front of the gray jacket. She used the black heels to kick the door closed behind her as she made her way to the end of the table to set down her armload of stuff.

I had to admit, that even in the professional outfit, her hair up in a bun high on the back of her head and her dark rimmed narrow glasses, she looked quite...interesting. But as far as I knew she was married, and well, she was a LOT younger than I was. Maybe Betsy was right. Maybe I did need to think about dating again. I guess three years is a long time without sex, but dating, that was hard work before I met my wife. How much harder is it going to be just on the high side of fifty? And dating someone at work? Was that a wise idea?

My mental meanderings were cut short by Sandra pulling her jacket off, revealing the long sleeved, very thin, silk blouse. I could easily make out the whole shape of the tan bra she had on under the blouse. Come to think of it, this is the first time I'd ever seen enough of her to even guess at a bra size, but based on the size of the cups and the extremely tiny straps, I guessed she was maybe an A or maybe a small B cup at most.

"So, at the current rate of outflow on the Boeing contract we are going to go WAY over budget on the Mechanical side and we need to figure out where to reallocate funding from," Sandra said, sitting down and getting immediately to business as her computer flashed to life in front of her.

Two hours later she finally closed her laptop, happy with the results. "I'll leave you two to take care of the rest of the paperwork," Sandra said as she stood up and slipped on her jacket. She looked at Denise and then at me. "I'll see both of you tomorrow night then!" she added with the slightest bit of a smile before turning and heading for the conference room door. She left and closed the door quietly behind herself.

"What was that about?" I asked Denise quietly as she slid over closer to me so we could look at the paperwork she still had on the table.

"Well, the party of course," Denise said innocently. "Now where were we? Oh yes. We need to look at this part of the schedule," she said as her leg pressed against mine.

As we talked I could feel her leg moving slightly against mine, distracting me from the schedule. "Goodness, it feels hot in here doesn't it?" she said suddenly reaching for the front of her dress and tugging on it to wave it in an attempt to get air circulation down it. The process also pulled the material away from her body sufficiently for me to be have quick glimpses down her dress and see her over full bra cups, the very lacy material allowing me to even see the darkness of her areola and the bumps of her apparently hard nipples. I did my best not to stare, but the sight was definitely giving me a hardon.

Finally she released her dress, the now tugged on material not nearly covering as much of her as it had before, much more of her creamy breasts and lacy bra cups now exposed to my view. If I had a hard time concentrating before, well now it was damn near impossible.

"I think I need a drink of water," she said as she got up and walked to the little water cooler in the corner of the room. "Would you like one?"

"Sure, thanks," I answered, watching the knee length dress pull tight across her butt as she bent over, a slight raised outline of her panties visible through the otherwise smooth material. She stood back and walked over to me, a cup of water in each hand.

"I'm going to have to have maintenance check the air conditioning in here. It seems to be much too warm," she said as she set down the cups. She hiked the front of her dress most of the way up her thighs and sat down next to me again, her leg pressing against mine as she rolled her chair in next to mine.

"Yeah, it is hot in here," I answered, suddenly feeling very warm as I looked over at her. I couldn't help but see down the front of her dress again, and realized that her nipples were probably as hard as my cock at that moment, a fact I was trying hard to hide.

"So what should we do now?" she asked as she leaned back in her chair, tugging on her dress again.

I began to realize that the dress, a wrap around type of thing, was gradually being pulled farther and farther apart across her chest as she tried to fan herself. I was very glad that the door was closed for fear someone might see in and think that something untoward was going on, which it wasn't, I didn't think. I couldn't help but stare as the flapping dress alternately showed and hid the whole front of one breast with each flap, the outline of her nipple and areola obvious each time I saw it.

"You're staring," she said quietly.

"Uh....Yeah, sorry," I said dumbly, quickly looking away from her chest back to the table.

"That wasn't a complaint, but if you want to stare, at least you can complement what you see," she said with a quiet laugh that was almost a giggle. "You do like what you see, don't you?"

"Um. Well, yeah, of course," I stammered, blushing at being caught looking at her that way.

"Well, then just say so. I don't mind. Personally what I see is pretty good looking too," she answered.

"Huh?"

She nodded down to my lap where my practically rock hard cock had my slacks pushed out into a huge tent as it tried to stand erect, but was constrained by my briefs and pants, pointing down my leg.

"That looks terribly uncomfortable," she said quietly, pausing her fanning to hold the top of her dress apart so that I could easily see both lace enclosed breasts.

"Uh. Yeah a bit," I answered, trying to cover myself with my hand.

"You could fix it. I wouldn't mind," she answered with a grin. "I wouldn't mind one bit."

"That probably wouldn't be a good idea. I mean someone could walk in on us and then where would we be?"

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that. The occupied sign is out and Sandra locked it on the way out," she answered with a devilish little grin on her face, swinging her chair to face me as she pushed back from the table. "But if you'd rather, I'd be happy to...rearrange things to a more comfortable angle for you?"

"Denise! Seriously? Here? I mean I agreed to go to the party with you, but I didn't say I was going to have sex with you or anything," I said in shock.

"I wasn't asking you to have sex with me, and I wasn't offering to suck your cock, but of course if you want me to all you'd have to do is say the word. I'd be more than happy to. I know it's been a VERY long time since anyone did that for you," she said as she undid the belt buckle of her dress. She stood up and allowed the belt to unwrap from around her, the dress falling open all down the front as it did. She stood for several seconds, allowing me to see the gap up the front and the strip of white skin running all the way down from her neck to the tiny blue bikini panties she had on. She swept the dress aside, allowing it to hang from her shoulders down both sides of the chair exposing her entire body to me as she leaned back in the chair again, her legs slowly spreading apart to allow me to see anything I wanted.

She wore nude colored thigh high stockings, the frilly tops stopping only six inches or so from the tiny blue panties she had on, which from this angle showed a very definite wet spot low on her crotch. Her body appeared firm and toned, and well, to be honest, quite sexy for someone in their mid-forties. Her lacy bra cupped and squeezed both breasts, each large enough that it would easily fill my whole hand, and each with a large round darkened areola with a hard nipple almost perfectly centered in each one. For a brief moment I considered reaching over and undoing the bra so that I could see her breasts without the lace covering blocking the view.

I saw her lick her red lips with the tip of her tongue before those lips turned into a slight smile. She shrugged the dress off her shoulders, letting it hang over the back of the chair, leaving her in just her heels, stockings, panties and bra.