George's Office Party
Having returned from the hairdresser I made a light lunch and reflected on what to wear for the reception at George's office. Being in the afternoon it wouldn't be too formal ... I wondered about the dress I'd worn when Tor and Wenche came for dinner ... yes that would be fine and I could wear my new black boots. I'd wear my pale blue slip but had no desire to wear a bra and hell I'd dispense with knicks ... it'd be fun to whisper to George that I was sans panties ... the dress was long enough ... nobody else would ever know.
I went upstairs to get ready. After pampering myself in the bath I dried off and returned to the bedroom to dress. I opened a new pack of dark hold-up nylons and slipped them on. Once in my slip I sat at the dressing table and carefully applied my make-up. I checked myself in the full length mirror and was pleased with the effect ... no ghastly panty lines ... the slip flowed smoothly over my feminine curves ... the lace revealed some but not all of my intimate parts. I glanced at my watch ... plenty of time ... the taxi wasn't due for half an hour.
I walked through to the other room to collect my dress and as I was about to return to the bedroom I inadvertently glanced out of the window. To this day I don't know why but what I saw held me mesmerized.
There in the bedroom next door was Wenche and another woman lying naked on the bed in flagrante delecto ... kissing passionately ... legs entwined ... hands fondling the very centres of their female sexuality ... providing each other the pleasure only women know how. Memories of Janet came flooding back and I was suddenly extremely aroused. I was unable to tear myself away.
Suddenly they broke their embrace and Wenche's lover stood up. She was stunning ... taller than Wenche with large, beautifully-shaped breasts and extremely prominent nipples ... her hair was jet black, straight, and close to waist length. As she stood then some of her hair had fallen either side of her breasts creating a rather erotic effect. Her pubic hair was ungroomed and prolific creating an extreme contrast to Wenche's bare pubes. When I saw the tufts of underarm hair I concluded she was French. I have fastidiously shaved my armpits as I imagined such hair to be vulgar and offensive but this beauty went a long way to justify the counter argument. She was beautiful and just as nature had intended.
She reached for something on the bedside table and as she stepped into it I realised it was a strap-on dildo of quite immense proportions. Wenche knelt up and helped her secure the straps and they were soon together again on the bed. The French lady lay on her back and Wenche crouched over her and just as she was about to lower herself onto this phallic object the bell rang.
"Shit," I thought. "The taxi's here and I'm not ready." I quickly fastened my dress and rushed downstairs. As I opened the door I must have looked a little flustered. "Could he tell my state of arousal?" I wondered. I told him I'd be with him in a few minutes. Without thinking I grabbed my handbag which fortunately was ready, pulled on my coat, and left.
It was only while sitting in the taxi I realised that I should have spent a bit of time cleaning up the copious flow of pussy juices ... going without panties in this condition was looking like a less smart idea. I surreptitiously took my compact from my bag and I glanced at the mirror. Although my makeup was holding up I was extremely flushed ... I sensed I looked like I'd been interrupted from a heavy lovemaking session and that was exactly how I felt but there was nothing I could do ... I'd just have to brazen my way through. At least I would be able to freshen up at George's office before we met the guests ... or so I thought.
Despite my best efforts I was unable to expel from my thoughts what I had just witnessed ... my mind was on autopilot ... could Wenche become a surrogate for Janet ... how to get started ... how soon ... would she be interested ... we could offer each other so much ... she could provide what I craved ... I needed her. My arousal was just not subsiding. The only way things would return to normal would be to relieve myself in a toilet at the office ... risky ... degrading ... humiliating.
We were soon at the office. I paid the driver and made my way inside to reception.
"Good afternoon, Mrs Clarke. Mr Clarke is expecting you. You know where his office is don't you?"
I nodded and moved quickly to the elevator.
Fortunately I met nobody on my way to his office but was aghast when to find several people already there.
"Darling, so pleased you're here. You look ravishing," he whispered. "Let me introduce you to the Chairman and his wife and some of my key managers."
I was mortified ... my worst nightmare. I tried my best to be as composed as possible and began the process of introductions and small talk. At the first opportunity once the formalities had concluded I whispered to George that I needed to go to the ladies. He led the way and once we were out of his office he asked if there was anything wrong. I shook my head but had he sensed something? I slipped into the ladies ... it was deserted, thank God. I entered one of the two stalls and locked the door. I had my dress off in seconds, raised the hem of my slip, and sat on the toilet. My fingers sped to my engorged clitty, promising the relief both it and I craved ... God, I hadn't been so wet in ages, if at all.
Then I heard the outer door open and was aware of a couple of women talking. Shit, I'd have to wait but for how long.
"Go ahead, Mary. The other stall will be soon be free."
There was no mistaking the chairman's wife, Jane. Things were going from bad to worse ... I froze ... time seemed to stand still but eventually I heard the other toilet flush and the door open.
"No need to wait, Dear. I'll join you soon," said Jane.
The outer door closed as Jane locked the adjacent stall door. Things were so quiet that I could clearly hear her urinating and then another flush. A few more seconds, I thought, and I'd be able to finish things off ... but it wasn't to be.
She opened her door and a few seconds later knocked on mine. "Are you alright, Dear?" she asked.
"I'm fine," I mumbled.
"It's Marion, isn't it?"
