After Work Drinks 1

The weirdest year of my life started after I quit my job at the law firm. I was sick of their stress and bullshit, so I quit and went back to working for the agency I'd been a waiter at before. The work was no hassle, and it gave me the best drunken fucks of my life.

The day I first went back into their offices was the day that I set eyes on Davina for the first time, and she was a picture. A petite, busty girls with a blonde pixie cut who wore the most adorable glasses. It was around noon in the middle of summer and I was sweating slightly from the unusually hot British weather when I walked into the office and I was stood there trying to talk to the manager while Davina kept glancing up at me, then looking away when our eyes met. I felt my cock stirring in my trousers then, each time our eyes met, and knew there was something there.

The agency took me back, and every now and then it would be Davina on the phone, asking me to work. Each time there would be a little giggle, and sometimes Davina giggled as well.

It all really started though, when I was asked to come into the office to do the payroll. The job itself was desperately dull, so I'd spend long hours using the company's messaging system to talk to Davina. It wasn't long before we started meeting up for drinks in The Park Hotel after work. Davina had been in The Park for 20 minutes by the time I got there, but I saw the back of her perfect little head sat in a seat near the aisle as I walked over to the table.

"Hey there," I said, resting my arm over the seat and letting my hand rest on her shoulder.

"Mmmm!" she exclaimed, just finishing off her drink. I watched her throat swallowing quickly as she put the glass down. Then she half stood up to give me a hug while wedged into the table.

"Looks like I got here just in time. What are you having?"

"Lager and lime. I'm classy like that!" When I got to the bar I positioned myself so that I could see her from there. She was wearing a red and black spotted dress, the kind of 50s style that's come back into fashion it seems, and stopped closer to her hips than her knees. Unfortunately for me the plaits in her skirt had prevented me seeing anything else. As she'd been at work the dress had a high neckline, but there was nothing it could do to prevent me seeing the outline of her boobs as they pushed against the thin fabric. At that point I realised two things; the barman was waiting for me, and Davina had seem me looking. I gave him my order but kept my gaze fixed on Davina's now, prompting a coy smile from her (and a rather evil one from the barman) as her eyelids narrowed around her blue eyes and I once again felt my cock pushing against my boxers. On the way back to the table I almost tripped over, so intense was the power that kept us staring at each other.

"You almost had an accident there," she teased. "Better be careful or you'd have been wearing these." With that she took the kind of drink of the lager that you could easily get away with calling a draught if you were talking about Vikings.

"Rough day?"

"Oh, just things running through my head, at least now I've got some good drink and good company."

"Very kind of you to say."

"I mean it," she said, after another mouthful had disappeared down her throat "I'm quite enjoying this pint" then giggled as she placed the glass back on the table. "I mean en-joy-ing".

"Is this your normal way to drink your second pint on a Thursday?"

"Noooo. It's how I'm drinkin my third one today though."

"Why would that be?"

"Well, if I'm honets I'm a little nervous," she slowly drained the glass, keeping her eyes fixed on mine as she did. Her eyelids were narrowing again, but whether this was because of the booze or a deliberately sexy move I couldn't tell. It didn't matter to my cock though, as he clearly wanted to force his way out of my trousers to see Davina getting this wild. She placed the glass back onto the table with the care you get from knowing you're well on your way to getting pissed, following the bottom of the glass all the way home with her eyes. Her chin still low, her gaze then drifted back up to mine, and I saw in her eyes the same evil glance I'd seen before in the barman. He'd known what was going to happen, and now I saw that she knew what was going to happen to. Which meant, now, that I knew as well.

"What have you got to be nervous of?"

"Well, I'm wond'rin' if you've fell the same way 'bout me as I've 'bout you." At that point, I couldn't resist anymore. Given what I'd find out later it would turn out to be a mistake, but one that I fucking loved making. I stared to rub my leg up against her tights. She shook her head a little.

"No no no, not yet," she said, waiving her finger in the air a little unsteadily. Before I could ask her why, she moved position so that she was sat with her back wedged between the seat and the wall, out of the way of people's sight.

I grinned.

After moving position to match hers I moved my leg back to her tights and found them pushing against me in return. She was clearly trying to remain incognito for the rest of the pub, and reached for her bag on the table. Fumbling slightly she pushed it out of reach. (Beneath the table I heard her shoe drop to the floor) She then managed to undo the zip and pull her phone out. (The toes of her foot had reached my groin, and were searching for home) With a rather unreliable focus she began to open and close apps on her phone at random.

"You enyojing youself tonigh'?" she asked me, eyes on the phone. But more importantly, foot rubbing slowly up and down on my now heaving dick, and her toe gently caressing the tip each time she went past.

"I just wish we could enjoy this equally. Shoelaces are a bastard" She caught my eye with a sideways glance, and a smirk appeared in the corner of her lips.

The rubbing continued, and then an increase in pressure till I got to the point where I was running though the World Cup squad in my head to stop exploding, and she stopped. Her foot back down onto the floor, and put away her phone.

"There's a way to get that" she said, putting the phone back in the bag and leaning forwards so that her boobs brushed the table top. "I'm gon' get a drink, an' I'll see you in the ladies" she whispered, allowing me to smell the beer on her breathe as she pushed herself upright. She kept one hand on the table, steadying herself as she rounded the corner and headed over to the bar. I stared as her hips walked away, sashaying from side to side as she headed to the bar. It was only then that I saw how pissed she was, with both arms waving to keep her balance as she focussed on reaching more booze. I saw two guys on a table she walked past stare at her.

"Hey there, love," one of the Davina Fan Club asked.

She kept tottering along, but turned her head and slowly shook it from side to side, knowing that anything more would be fatal to her balance. As her head bobbled back and forth the ends of her pixie cut rested drunkenly against the rims of her glasses and she pouted at them, just a little.

She didn't so much reach the bar, more like it got in her way as she was falling towards the ground. She was still trying to tidy her legs so that they were beneath her weight when the barman reached her. Keeping her left arm arm on the bar I watched her lose focus on her legs, so the left leg wasn't quite planted on the floor properly, but swung back and forth on her toes. Thinking of just where that toe had been moments earlier meant that the pressure on my trousers was reapplied, and I shifted my weight to make it less uncomfortable. She was explaining her order to the barman with slow exaggerated gestures to support her argument that Oh Indeed I Am Sober and Most Certainly Barkeep, This Is My Last. As he turned to fetch her order she turned her face again to face me, and slid down the bar until her bosom finally supported her weight. In the process her arse jutted further and further out till she resembled a blonde, somewhat wasted Kim Kardashian.

"Fucking Hell," said the Davina Fan Club. Then they both turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. So no, it had been me that was swearing out loud for all to hear. Davina had clearly heard too, as she sluggishly ran her tongue from one side of her red lipsticked mouth to the other, then left a tiny portion in the corner of her mouth. Fucking Hell indeed.

The barman then returned, placing what looked like two double gins on the bar. She picked them up and downed one while he was watching her, then finished off the second as soon as his back was turned. She shook her head a little again then, causing Davina to reach out and stead herself with one arm, and return that glass to the bar. Her journey then took her round the bar, clinging to the wall throughout the trip, and towards the toilets. I wanted to follow her straight away but was worried that her job had worked too well, and I'd end up looking like I'd hidden Pinocchio in my pocket. A few minutes of waiting, however, and I was ready to rejoin her.

I entered the Ladies toilets full of confidence, reasoning that the only way to get away with it if I bumped into anyone else was to loudly proclaim that, 'So Sorry, I was SURE it was the Gents,' and hope that Davina was able to not only hear me, but make it back to the table. Luck was on my side though, as the place was empty apart from a gentle sighing escaping through the ajar cubicle door. I pushed it open slowly, and was confronted by the sight of her head tipped back against the wall, her right hand rubbing her nipple through the cotton of her dress, and her legs wide.

"Fucking Hell!"

"You've said tha' befo'" she replied without lifting her head. "An'saboutime you fucked me."

Now it was my turn to fumble, as I tried to undo my belt before my dick exploded. Unable to resist, I glanced up again. Her left hand now pulling herdress up and searching out her vag.

"How wet are you?" I asked, finally pushing my trousers to the floor and stepping out of them.

"No' gonn' tell" she slurred, finally raising her head. Pouting. Eyelids half shut. Arching her back as she rubbed her clit. "Why'n't you come fine ou'?"

I lifted her up by her armpits and she took one hand from her tits to hold herself up by the wall.

"Want a little help?" I asked, using one hand to work on her rock hard nipple while the other searched beneath her dress. She was wet, and warm, and used one of her hands to push me against her clit. She sighed. Her back arched again, and I had to move my arm round to her back and pulled her close to me, helping to keep her up. Her hand then left mine and began tearing at my pants, trying to find my cock. Normally at this point you get told how absolutely above average the cock is. Between one hand stroking her back, the other one rubbing her wringing wet clit and my teeth running round her ear I promise you she wouldn't have cared if I had 4 inches of blue steel down there. Luckily, my 7 inches were plentiful.

"Fuck'n take me, John, fuck'n FUCK me!" She shouted as she guided me in. We were both close to orgasm when I found her, but there were enough moments of bliss for me to remember. Her hand returning to mine as we both fiddled her bulging clit, her gin soaked breath all over my face as she moaned, sighed, moaned again. Her dress rubbing against my arse as she pulled herself onto me with one leg, barely balancing on the other.

"Fug. Fug. Fug. FUG. FUG. OOOOOOOhhho JOHN FUUCK!" Davina screamed, the lips of her vag squeezing me as I came in her, the hot gin soaked breath of her mouth washing over me and her leg clamped around my thigh. We both shuddered again, and again as the last of that orgasm washed like a pink cloud through my brain. Her breathing slowed, and her head swung forwards onto my shoulder. "Thawuz fuckin, so... fug"

"So," I said at last, slowly caressing her pussy as she pinched gently at my neck, "what's with this 'John' thing?"

"Ma boyfren'," she whispered into my shoulder, "annoo can' tellim. Thiz's our segret".

Wait, her what?