*All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction for erotic entertainment only. Real-life sex should always be with enthusiastic consent.*
Copyright 2024 Apophenia
***
My boss, Dennis, paused next to my desk. "Coming to the fireworks show tonight, Amanda?"
I glanced up and shrugged. "Maybe. Or I might be stuck here all night with this project you handed me at the last minute."
Dennis chuckled. "I know you can handle it. I'll see you at the party, then."
Cocky bastard. My eyes drifted down as he walked away. His ass in those jeans was obscene. I blushed and looked back to my desk.
Ogling my boss was a stupid idea. For one, he was my boss. Second, he was a playboy. He went through women like I went through wine. Honestly, probably faster. I wasn't above a decent boxed wine.
Third... Maybe there was no third reason. Relationships were difficult, and since I failed to make one stick in college, now it felt like it was too late.
Ok, yeah, no more depressing shit. My friends were right. I needed to get out more.
At 7 p.m., I finally lifted my head from the stack of papers spread all over my desk. The party started at 8. Well, I was already here, might as well stay.
An hour later, I tossed my jacket over the back of my chair. Summer nights were warm, but the office was cold. Since I liked the sun on my skin at lunch, I wore a jacket over my sundress indoors. If it got any colder in here, I'd need a space heater. Maybe that would make them turn up the damn AC.
Rubbing my arms, I headed toward the elevator. The rooftop of our office building had a great view of the city's fireworks. People kept sneaking up there to watch until the higher-ups finally decided to throw an annual party. Might as well capitalize on the morale boost.
I smiled at my coworkers, who politely acknowledged me before returning to their conversations. As usual. They were nice people; I just kept to myself, did my work, went home. Parties weren't my thing. Free drinks, though, were hard to resist. I grabbed one and meandered into an out-of-the-way corner.
That's where I stood -- in the back, in a corner, holding a drink and smiling at anyone who noticed me. My manager kept telling me to go to one of these things, so here I was. Hugging a wall. At least the fireworks would be nice.
"Hey, you're here!" Dennis stepped out of the elevator and headed straight toward me.
"Yeah, woohoo." I lamely waved my glass.
He swiped the glass out of my hand and took a sip.
"Hey! Get your own!" I grabbed it back.
Completely unapologetic, he grinned. "Oh, whiskey girl, huh? I'm learning new things about you already!"
Rolling my eyes, I smiled anyway. He was ridiculous. Hot, funny, sexy ass -- if he wasn't my boss...
What? What would you do, Amanda? Say hi more often?
Yeah, I wouldn't do shit, but my subconscious needed another drink so it would shut up. The bar was crowded now, though, and I didn't want to leave my corner. It was a nice corner. Even better with Dennis here, like he was all mine right now.
He leaned closer to be heard over the rising noise level. "This isn't so awful, is it? You should come to more parties!"
I glanced over the rim of my drink. "I'm basically a wallflower, Dennis."
"A pretty one. Nice dress." He winked.
I blushed. Mortification deepened my blush. Maybe he wouldn't see it in the dark.
Dennis chuckled and casually put an arm around my waist. "Sorry, don't mind me. Can I get you another drink?"
A drink would be good. Then he'd have to stop touching me and my brain could stop spinning. Something about how close he was made it really difficult to think.
My stupid mouth said, "No, thanks. I have to drive later."
Maybe I was already drunk.
He smiled and his hand slid lower, basically palming my ass now. A little thrill went through me. My cheeks heated.
Leaning towards him, I teased quietly, "Careful. People might get ideas." The crowd wasn't looking at us, though. Music began to play. The fireworks were about to start, and all eyes were on the sky.
"Oh, live a little, Amanda!" He chuckled. My friends said that a lot, too.
I mean, I didn't hate it -- his hand on my ass. The last time some guy had felt me up was... Nah, counting the years was too depressing.
But this guy was my boss. I should have stopped being a wallflower and done something. The problem was, I had no idea what to do. That had always been the problem. When a guy flirted with me, I just kind of froze up.
I sipped my whiskey as my heart jumped in my chest. My boss wasn't flirting with me, I tried to convince myself. He was just teasing. Messing around. Being himself. My heart slowed.
I side-stepped a little further into the shadows, hoping he'd get the message. But he followed, his hips bumping my side as he kept his hand firmly on my ass. My heart leaped again. Heat rushed everywhere -- down my stomach to my core, up my neck to my face, and straight into my confused, tipsy head.
In an effort to shake my thoughts clear, I said, "So, that project is mostly done. Like you said, it wasn't that hard."
"Mmhm. Good, good," he said as he gently squeezed and rubbed my ass. "See, I knew you could handle it."
"Yeah," I laughed nervously. Fluttery nerves made breathing difficult. My boss' approval always made me feel good.
And now it became something more. My thighs clenched, heat gathering between my legs. Maybe it was the proximity, the drink, the bold way he was groping me and I was letting him get away with it. Maybe it was the darkness and the fact that anyone could catch us at any time. He'd pull away soon, go join the crowd, but right now, he was mine.
Even when his fingers curled in my dress, bunching it up until the warmth of his palm curved against the bare skin on my ass, I only swallowed another sip of whiskey, my eyes on the crowd, watching for anyone to look our way. No one did. Without that excuse, I couldn't make myself move. If I pretended everything was fine and normal, then there was no reason to stop him, no reason not to enjoy a little male attention even though I knew I shouldn't. Alcohol and lust buzzed in my system. I might've moaned, too softly to be heard.
We were standing close, but not too close. Just two people at a party, waiting for the show. My red face was probably undetectable. Maybe it was just the whiskey. The crowd faded away, the party seeming separate from us.
A faint hint of discomfort drifted in the back of my mind as his fingers dipped under the hem of my panties. But he only slipped his fingers in and out, teasing at the rounded curve of my ass. That's all this was. A tease, a game. In a few minutes, I'd be a sad, shy, lonely girl again.
Biting my lip, I leaned just slightly against his hand. Right now, I didn't want to be a sad, shy, lonely girl. I wanted to be bold, reckless, a little stupid. Even if my boss was a playboy.
He didn't waste the opportunity. At the hint of pressure, his fingers raced down the hem of my panties and curled between my legs. I froze. He was touching my pussy. He had his hand on my pussy.
A little shift, and his hand wasn't just on my pussy, his fingers were beneath my panties and stroking my sensitive flesh.
He leaned into me, and I just barely heard him say, "Amanda, you naughty girl. You're dripping wet. Is that all for me?"
"N-no. Ohh..." I moaned, barely able to get a word out. My thoughts had completely fled. There was only the slick tension between my thighs, his fingers spreading my arousal, and the heat of his body next to mine.