This is the first chapter of four for this story.
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I work as a secretary for a large law firm in New York. I'm 30 years old, and I follow the dress code of skirts, hose, heels, and nice blouses. I'm professional and I'm told I have a great telephone voice. I also keep my bosses' work and papers organized. I think I'm a valuable employee. While anyone can always be replaced, it would be hard to find someone as good at my job as I am.
Still that's not really job security. Were it to become known what happened at the Christmas Party last week, excuse me I mean the Holiday Party, I'm a little worried I would get fired. Getting fired means no references when I look for a new job. In other words, I'm screwed. Ironic choice of words, I know: being screwed is exactly the problem.
So let me tell you about the holiday party. It was a good one. The alcohol flowed freely, and the punch was yummy, even if it had a lot of vodka. I came dressed as a Santa Helper, with a low cut red velvet little outfit with bare shoulders and a super short skirt that flared out, and bright red panties.
I tried to wear a strapless bra, but it just didn't work with the outfit, so I was braless. In short, I looked hot. My nipples poked at the fabric, and my boobs had independent suspension, as my former husband used to say.
To all those stuffy lawyers, I was the hottest looking lady they had seen in a long time, unless you count their visits to strip clubs. Yes, I knew about that. Like any good secretary, I tend to know everything.
I have a nice figure, although I'm a little busty. I'm not married, having been divorced five years ago. So I need this job, as my alimony is non-existent. I have no kids yet, and my biological clock is ticking away. My hair is one of my nicest features: it's a pretty shade of brown with natural red highlights. It complements my caramel colored eyes. I wear it short, but I pay a lot always to get wonderful haircuts.
The music was good and some of the younger partners were asking me to dance, and I was having fun. All the pretty women there were dancing, including the interns and the young lawyers, and the only woman partner. So the part of the floor devoted to dancing was busy.
There was a young partner, Mitch, who was trying to monopolize me. He tried to dance every dance with me, although sometimes another lawyer would cut in. I was getting hot and starting to sweat, so when Mitch asked if I wanted to join him out on the terrace for a cigarette break, I said yes, even though I don't smoke. It was just nice to feel the cold, bracing, and oxygen rich air.
I was leaning against the railing of the terrace relaxing. I knew the pose I was taking thrust out my boobs, but I was too drunk to care. We were on the 23rd floor, so it was pretty windy, and a gust of wind pushed up my skirt, showing Mitch my red panties. He got a good look and smiled. I giggled and smiled back.
"You know Jean," he said, "You really look fetching in your Santa's Helper outfit tonight. You have to be the prettiest secretary in all New York."
I blushed. "I think the punch is going to your head, Mitch. I know it is to mine," I replied.
"How about a little kiss for a lonely lawyer who thinks you're gorgeous?" he said.
"How will we work together if we start kissing, Mitch? I think it's not a good idea," I said.
Mitch finished his smoke. He took my hand and led me back inside. He danced a slow dance with me, holding me tight against him, and I felt his erection pushing into my stomach. Now I was sure he was drunk. I was drunk, too, but I'm a woman. The consequences of losing control to alcohol are nastier for women than they are for men. I was in control of myself.
While we were on the terrace, my friend Doris who is also a secretary, had surreptitiously put up some mistletoe. Doris is my best friend at work. I did not know about it, but Mitch saw the mistletoe and while we danced he maneuvered us until we were dancing directly under it.
A chant began and I looked up and saw the mistletoe and then Mitch ambushed me with a kiss. I knew everyone was looking at us. I had to kiss him back due to being under the mistletoe, so I did. His kiss was erotic and sexy. To my surprise I began to get a little wet down there.