When I took over as chair of the office social committee, I was not aware that one of the tasks I'd inherited from the previous chair was helping the boss set up for the company Christmas party that he hosted at his house. It wasn't something I should have had to do, but the previous chair had set a precedent that I was then obliged to uphold. It wasn't all bad, though, since the party was on a Saturday night and they offered to let me get ready over there rather than having to run home and run back. Also, they gave me the option of crashing for the night in their guest room. I wondered if I'd be the only one who was offered that perk given the amount of alcohol that was likely to be served. Even crashing on a couch would beat crashing my car and going to jail or, even worse, to the morgue.
There wasn't a whole lot to do to get ready for the party since the house was already decorated for Christmas. Mainly it was getting things ready for the caterer and getting the house arranged to promote socializing. I had met Mark's wife, Kim, at previous company events, but didn't really have the opportunity to get to know her very well. She probably had ten or fifteen years on me but wasn't too hard on the eyes and was quite thin. She was also quite a flirt. It didn't get to the point where I felt uncomfortable in front of the boss but I did realize that the longer I was there, the more glances I was stealing at her ass. I was thinking that I'd better be careful about how much I drank that night so that I didn't do something stupid like make a pass at the boss' wife, especially when I noticed her hands on me more and more often. She would give me a playful shove or have to put her hands on my waist as she squeezed past me but I just wrote it off as her being one of those touchy-feely types and appreciated it while resisting any thoughts of reciprocating.
We were nearly done when Kim asked Mark about a particular errand he was supposed to take care of which, it turned out, he hadn't. I asked if he'd need my help, but he didn't, so he took off, leaving Kim and me alone. Initially, I didn't think that she had intentionally neglected to remind him of his errand until this time. Once he was gone down the street and her arms were around me, though, I started to consider otherwise. Her tongue was in my mouth before I knew it and I figured, as long as we didn't get caught, I'd just go with the flow. I let my hands find their way to her ass and began to massage it as my cock grew harder against her. There was a large ottoman a few steps away, so I picked her up and carried her to it while she wrapped her legs around me. I dropped to my knees as I lowered her onto it, then immediately went to work opening her jeans as we continued to make out.
Once I got her jeans open, I had her lay back and lift her ass up so that I could work them down. I took her panties with them, exposing a neatly trimmed bush. Her jeans and panties on the floor, Kim spread her thin thighs wide as I lowered my head between them. She was dripping with pungent juices which I worked on lapping up before slipping a couple of fingers into her. She moaned gutturally when I started licking and sucking her clit while sliding my fingers in and out of her slippery hole. Her hips were rocking rhythmically as I ate her and I stole a glance up to see what her hands were doing. I watched as she unbuttoned her shirt and unfastened the front clasp of her bra, my cock going even harder as I got my first glimpse of her tits. Her nipples were hard and she immediately began to tug on them gently.
Playing with her nipples sent a shudder through her and apparently brought her closer to an orgasm. She dropped one hand down to my head to hold it against her pussy while she humped her hips toward my face. The other hand alternated from one tit to the other, fondling each hard nipple. I focused my efforts on bringing her maximum pleasure, licking and sucking her clit as I slid two fingers in and out of her dripping pussy. The longer I ate her, the harder she held my head against her and the faster she rocked her hips. Her moaning wasn't necessarily getting louder, but longer and higher pitched, echoing off the high ceilings. When her second hand landed on the back of my head and she began to tense up, arching her back up off the ottoman, I knew she was just about there.
