Jessie straightened her top as she walked up to her boss's front door. The tight fitting black tank top kept riding up her stomach, flashing her mid drift to the world. She hadn't expected to be invited to the Halloween party, but knew better than to decline. For years, she'd heard stories about her boss, Mr. Davidson's, network of friends. All of them were the movers and shapers of Cloverdale, the old money of an old town embodied in young men who all had business degrees from ivy league schools which meant they knew little about business, but a great deal about networking.
Robert Davidson had taken over the management of the small graphics design firm after he graduated. Normally, this would have offended some of the more seasoned employees, but Robert had a certain command of the room. Jessie had noticed it immediately and, despite herself, fawned slightly at the handsome new boss. They enjoyed a good relationship at work for the subsequent two years, but Robert only invited his prized employees to his home. Jessie finally found herself in that position after acquiring a new, lucrative client for the firm. Still, the invitation surprised her, and she had no costume on hand. Instead, she quickly threw together an older costume - the Halloween version of the little black dress, a sexy cat.
Her small breasts strained against the thin fabric from the second she put on the top. Long, black gloves with small plastic claws on the tips of the fingers covered her hands. Tights, which she struggled to pull on, hopping and shaking around until the elastic fabric yielded, clothed her legs. They stretched over her ample bottom, with a padded area just at the top of her ass where a felt tail was attached. She pulled on some stiletto boots and finalized her attire with a small headband sporting two cat ears. Naturally, she spent the extra time on her makeup to include the faux whiskers painted on her face and a dab of black on the tip of her nose.
Through the window, she could see the other party goers milling about with drinks in their hands. She noticed Ariel, Robert's personal assistant, laughing a bit too enthusiastically at the joke of some handsome man who clearly had an unearned sense of importance. The man was wearing a cowboy hat and somehow passing it off as a costume. Ariel was dressed to attend a masquerade ball, complete with the over exaggerated mask suspended slightly in front of her. Her lithe form was draped in a tight fitting black dress, with a particularly low neckline which kept attracting the cowboy's attention. Ariel had clearly already chosen her prize bull for the evening, and the cowboy was keen on the masked heifer as well.
Jessie frowned at the sight. She hated the borderline incestuous nature of work and social relationships, each one preying on the other. Of course, she could tolerate her own hypocrisy as Robert opened the door.
"Jessie!" he said with a charming smile. "So glad you could make it, come on in." He was wearing a flight jumpsuit and aviator sunglasses. "Let me guess, you're a cat."
"No, I made a very misguided effort at Wonder Woman," she said, sheepishly. He chuckled. "You're that guy from that movie."
"I think that covers pretty much every guy's costume here," he said with a tone of mild disappointment. "Drink?"
"Yes, please. Makes prancing around in my underwear slightly less embarrassing."
"I don't think anyone's going to complain if you start prancing around in anything," he said. His hand went to the small of her back, and, with a slight push, he steered her over to the bar. The feel of his hand on her made her chest flutter.
She glanced around the room and quickly agreed with Robert's assessment. All the men were various characters from movies. Even the cowboy was angling to be a particular cowboy, though Jessie couldn't decide which one because she had very limited knowledge of movie cowboys. She decided the safe assumption was to think of him as all of John Wayne's characters. The women, on the other hand, all went the same route. Sexy cat, sexy nurse, sexy ghost, sexy whatever they could find. She and Ariel were two of the more conservatively dressed in the room, which highlighted the fact that they were also probably the oldest at twenty six.
Robert was engaged in conversation with a short man in a tuxedo shirt and bow tie, whose hands were deftly pouring drinks just out of sight beneath a mahogany bar. He placed two glasses on the bar and Robert swept them up. "Try this," he said, handing her a glass of what appeared to be a red punch. "So, have you ever been in my house before?"
"No, this would be my first time," she said, trying not to blush. She never excelled at chit chat. "It's lovely."
Robert shrugged, "Its generally better when there's not all these people hanging around in it. Between you and me, I'm a little burnt out on this kind of party. Don't you eventually get old enough to just have a few close friends over for dinner and drinks? I swear to god if Tim throws up in my backyard one more time, I'm going to have him fired on Monday." She must have visibly tensed, "Sorry, that's a joke. We're not at the office here. I mean no one should start fucking on the pool table, but I want everyone to feel comfortable, let their hair down." Someone waved at them from across the room. "Ah hell, looks like I need to go talk with Stanley. Sorry to abandon you."
"No, it's ok," she said. "I'll mingle, plenty of people from the office I need to say hello to. We'll catch up later."
Robert strode off into the party, leaving her standing idly just to the side of the bar. A small pack of people crowded up beside her, jostling each other playfully for the prime attention of the short man in the bow tie. Jessie smiled at them and took a sip of her drink, moving away politely. Immediately, she bumped into a tall woman in a red dress.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't see you there."
"Luckily, I'm used to having little kitties under foot," the woman said.
"Sorry, what?" The woman leered at her with the interest of a cat looking down at a mouse. "I'm Jessie, I don't think we've met."
The woman was stunning, and Jessie quailed in her presence. "No, we haven't, Jessie."
"And your name.." Jessie pursued.
"Is not important right now," she sidled a little closer to the smaller woman. "Do you ever wonder how the big executives like to blow off steam? Look at all these strapping young men. They're all here tossing back drink after drink while wearing Depp's latest character's rejected wardrobe. In a few hours, they'll have the majority of these little sluts drunk enough to dive headfirst into wonderfully slippery pussy. That's where all their stress goes, into one big load of spunk sprayed on the newest piece of ass they can find. I get wet just thinking about it. How about you?"
"I think I'm going to go," Jessie said, trying to hide her shock. The woman's proximity and language were making her flushed. Still, despite her words, Jessie made no attempt to escape the woman.
"You're not, because deep down, you love the idea of it all. That's why you came here tonight. That's why your lover boy invited you. Both of you have fallen asleep dreaming about having the other curled up beside you. All his strength and clout, his old money and his pretty young friends - you want that kneeling before you, whimpering as you cast your gaze upon him. And he can't be happy without a little vixen like you on her knees in front of him with his cock in her mouth, dominant and submissive at the same time. Rather beautiful in a lewd way. This is how I blow off steam you see, slumming around with the repressed and melancholy lording my liberation over them, deciding on a whim to unleash torrents of fevered ecstasy."
