The Office Holiday Party And...

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.

Mitch kept kissing me and holding me tight against him. The effect was that I could not get away and out from under the mistletoe. His erection felt as if it got even bigger. Next his hands were on my ass, and then on my panties as he pushed up my short skirt, exposing my panty-clad ass.

My panties came with the outfit. They covered the crack of my ass, but not much else, so everyone at the party could see my practically naked ass. These were my co-workers: this was not good.

Suddenly Mitch let me go. Steve, another young lawyer, had cut in. Before I could get away a new set of arms pulled me in. Steve began to kiss me, as I was still under the mistletoe. Doris had put up quite a bit of the stuff. He kissed even better than Mitch, and I began to get seriously aroused.

Steve took me by the hand and led me to the terrace. The terrace wrapped around the corner of the building, so there was a part of it hidden from people at the party. There he resumed kissing me. There was no mistletoe on the terrace, but at this point I had no resistance left and I kissed him back.

I was wondering what my co-workers thought as I kissed two men back to back and then one of them led me off to a private spot. I figured it was not good for my reputation, which up until then I had carefully cultivated. All that work, over several years, was suddenly at risk.

All the alcohol had me more compliant than I wanted to be. As he kissed me he pushed down the top of my outfit, exposing my breasts to the cold air and to his lustful eyes.

"Steve!" I said, "How dare you!" and I pulled my top back up, and started to walk back to the glass door to re-enter the party. I was angry. This was completely inappropriate action.

Steve grabbed my hand and pulled me back to him and resumed kissing me. I melted my body into his; it had been quite a while since I had let a man lust for me. I enjoyed it just then. My anger dissolved into mush. My resistance melted away into the cold air whipping around us.

We were still hidden away when, as he was kissing me, Steve's left hand slipped into my panties and he began to finger me. Oh my God this was bad, really bad. But boy did it feel nice. I began to run my fingers through his hair as he sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body to my brain. I practically came right out there on the balcony.

I had to stop him. I knew that. I just wanted to enjoy it for a few minutes, the thrill of being desired, and the electric waves of pleasure his fingers were giving me. I let him continue, probably a bit too long.

I pulled away from him before it got completely out of control. I was backing up away from him when I ran right into Mitch, who had come out for another smoke. I think the smoke was an excuse. He was looking for me.

I was trapped between the two men. Mitch started kissing me. He held me against himself tightly. I was not going anywhere. Steve came up from behind me. In one swift movement he pulled off my panties. They were now around my ankles.

I wanted to turn around and spit in the face of Steve, but two things prevented me from doing so: One were the two strong arms Mitch used to hold me in place, and the other was the fabulously erotic kisses he was giving me just then. So I did nothing.

I had to choose: try to walk and probably to trip, or step out of my panties. I chose the latter, so that I would have a chance of escape. Together the two men backed me into a corner on the balcony and pushed down the top of my outfit, leaving me shivering and topless on the balcony. I was one more push down of my clothes away from being naked. My situation was precarious.

My boobs were covered in goose bumps and my nipples were rock hard from the cold. They stick out quite a bit from my already large boobs when they get cold like that. Probably the men thought it was because I was sexually aroused. I was indeed sexually aroused, but it was the cold that did that to my nipples.

My outfit was still on and covering me up below the waist, but not extensively so. As I said, the skirt flares out making my panties easy to see, which is why I wore the opaque red panties that came with the outfit.

Now however those very panties were on the terrace floor, being blown about a little by the strong cold wind that ripped around the corner of the building. There was a danger they would blow off the terrace, never to be seen again.

Gusts of wind kept blowing up my skirt, and without panties the men got frequent views of my bush. I trim but do not shave down there, and there is plenty to see, I'm sure.

Steve fingered me as Mitch kissed me. I got as wet as the Hudson River. Being almost naked outdoors only 10 feet from a party on a cold windswept night in December somehow was a turn on for me. I felt a hard cock enter me from behind. Instead of freaking out or even protesting to maintain dignity, I groaned sexily.

Steve's cock slowly pumped away inside me as Mitch continued to kiss me. I belatedly freaked out that I was getting fucked outdoors in the cold on the terrace, just 10 feet from the glass door to a party filled with my co-workers. In addition, I was getting fucked by one man while kissing another. This was not normal. I tried mightily to escape.

Anyone coming outside for a smoke, or just for some fresh air, would see me fucking the two lawyers. That would mean near instant dismissal and a bleak life indeed for yours truly.

I managed to maneuver around so that Steve's cock fell out, thank goodness, but then the cock of Mitch entered me. Jesus, I thought. I escaped from his cock too after he completed a few thrusts inside me. I was flushed in anger and wanted to scream at both of them, but I was worried someone would hear me. So I only glared and slapped them both. They got the message.

They stayed while I dressed, but Steve kept my panties, despite my pleas and even begging for their return. I hated his little sadistic smile as he refused to return them. I had to reenter the party commando underneath my skimpy Santa's Helper outfit. I was furious, and doubtless my face was flushed with anger. Plus, I could not stop shivering from the cold. I figured it was time to get dressed and go home. I did not want it to be too abrupt, so I figured I'd stay five more minutes.

Nobody seemed to have noticed my absence except Doris, who smiled and winked at me when she saw me return with the two men. It was a false smile that said in girl code, 'I know what you've been up to, my slutty friend.' My smile back she probably read as, 'Fuck you, Doris, and mind your own business.'

Mitch and Steve both danced with me and I ended up staying the rest of the evening. Their monopoly of me only increased Doris' suspicions and made her smiles at me seem even more malevolent. The men would occasionally manipulate me under the mistletoe, where they took full advantage to kiss me passionately.

When nobody could see (or at least I hoped nobody could see) they would slip a finger into my soaking wet vagina. I was without panties, so it was particularly easy to do. I was terrified and hopelessly aroused. I was also terrified the entire time that people would realize I was without panties and see my privates. I now realize it was the terror that got me so aroused.

As it got late, people went home, and only a dozen or so people were left. By this time I was so drunk I had lost the capacity to think. Good music played, and Steve started to dance the swing with me. I love to dance the swing.

I lost the awareness that I had no panties, and Steve spun me around. As he did so my skirt would flare up exposing my panties, but since they were not there, you know exactly what was exposed. At first I wondered why everyone was staring at me, watching us dance.

We were the only ones dancing, so I figured that was why, if I figured anything at all. After that dance a slow song came on, and as Steve held me against him, he apparently unzipped the back of my outfit as we danced. I was unaware it was unzipped.

I let him maneuver me under the mistletoe because I was enjoying all the kissing. I was not thinking and I was enjoying everything. I realized I had been depriving myself of a man's company for too long of a time.

Steve gave me another wonderful kiss, and as he did so, with his arms around me, he suddenly pulled down my outfit, rendering me naked. Only seconds later the flash of a cell phone camera entered my eyes.

I was aghast. I ripped myself out of his arms, slapped his face, and quickly bent over (no doubt giving everyone a wonderful view of my ass and cunt, to the accompaniment of another camera flash) and picked up my outfit. I reassembled myself with as much dignity as I could muster. Which was none at all: There is no way to do that in a dignified manner.

When the party ended, Mitch and Steve both took me home. The three of us shared a taxi. The men were very apologetic and repeatedly begged forgiveness. I was silent. The damage was done. I would be fired on Monday I was sure; it would be a Christmas present the firm would bestow on me.

My emotions were all over the place. I was enraged at the men for destroying my career. I was furious at myself for (1) having worn such a provocative outfit, (2) letting myself get drunk, and (3) going out with the two men onto the terrace, and (4) not leaving when things began to spiral out of control. I was not only mad at the men, but both furious and disgusted with myself.

Then there was the elephant in my brain. I had not been this aroused in years. The risky sex on the terrace, and having been completely exposed in front of a dozen of my co-workers and friends at the party was thrilling in my apparently perverted mind.

The fact that someone (I did not know who) had taken two pictures of me naked on the dance floor was the nail in my career burial coffin, but its existence further aroused me no end.