Christmas StoryChapter 2: Wherever You Go, There You Are. Make The Best Of It free porn video
The car pulled into a parking structure and came to rest; I took a picture of our location to avoid having to search later. We made our way on foot to the building where I worked. Coasting through the front entrance we immediately encountered an enormous lobby Christmas tree. I have heard they pay people to decorate for the city and county; I sure wish I had that job.
Pressing the up button, we took an elevator to the top floor. People displayed those quiet polite smiles as in “I don’t know what to say to you.” Ding, the doors opened and sounds of merriment poured in. The entire floor was arranged for the holiday party. As a polite young lady took our coats, I crossed my arms, conscious of racy attire. We were led to a banquet on the left. The smell of delicious food wafted in the air. Long tables with every type of delectable; lines on both sides. I followed close behind hubby. After passing the salads, there was a chef carving prime rib. We both accepted a large portion. Soon Sweet Potatoes and warm bread appeared. No room for dessert, we would have to make a second pass later.
Several tables were already full when we went to sit down; office hierarchy clearly maintained. For the most part my coworkers were sitting together on two tables. Women had already separated from their mates, heads close together. Their men looked up, some openly staring and squinting, trying to make out the outline and details of my chest.
Feeling self-conscious, I turned my back and planted my bottom on a seat at an empty table. Hubby joined me on the left and began digging into his food. I focused on my plate. The meat and fixings were tasty. With a wink, a waiter filled my water glass with red wine.
The next thing I noticed was an attractive blond next to me; she held out her jeweled left hand to touch my right forearm and flashed porcelain white teeth. Please! “I’m Cindy: you two seem like you could like you could use some company.” A distinguished man sat to the left my husband, placing a hand on a shoulder to introduce himself with a crisp handshake. I didn’t catch the name, but the word “Commissioner” immediately came to mind. That word echoed through the chamber as their peers filled the empty places at the table.
Removing a red bolero, Cindy wrapped it over my shoulder, saying: “this will make you more comfortable.” The raiment covered my arms and upper body, but still allowed for ample cleavage. Looking up at her face, I realize I had misjudged her. Her genuine smile reached clear blue eyes. Leaning in to run her hand along my leg, she whispered in my ear: “All one piece just as I guessed; it’s so nice I’m not the only eye candy here. Keep the sweater. Your secret is safe with me.” Breaking the touch, she sat up and turned back to her plate. At first we did not talk, except for Cindy asking staff to fill her water glass with the red and top mine off.
I was beginning to relax and enjoy myself. Conversation flowed. She told me being the “trophy wife” always garnered unfair comparisons, even though she was his first bride. I told my story about being the outsider that always seemed to come up short in musical chairs. Only a few were openly hostile, but most work mates acted like I didn’t exist. All work and no play.
“Sometimes you’re better off that way. You can get away with more. I have a feeling you keep some juicy secrets, more than just tonight’s ensemble.” She raised my hand and gently tugged as we stood up. “ Now let’s go greet your friends. A couple of warnings: no slow dancing except for your mate. The Commissioners are safe, and I’ll run interference from the wrong types. By all means stay away from the mistletoe! Seeing my apprehension, she swept my hair back: “relax; you look amazing; I couldn’t but help noticing you when I came in, so cute, courageous but coy. Those full crimson lips shine. Enjoy; have a little fun.”
The commissioner summoned hubby to smoke a cigar on the roof. We split with each duo heading in the opposite direction. She and I strolled toward the tables occupied by the people from my department. I made a point to introduce her to the ladies I knew. All were cordial but cold. Did they think I was showing off? I felt a different vibe as we approached the “boys” table. Several practically fell over themselves to be friendly. Trying to copy Cindy’s friendly but detached attitude, I was careful to avoid direct eye contact. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
After we passed through the tables and reached the corner of the room, we went through double doors to the stairs. She invited me up and used a card key to open the path to the outside world. Her hand was warm as she escorted along the rooftop boardwalk. The corner faced the San Antonio River. After a dreary, cloudy Thanksgiving we were rewarded with clear skies. The stars decorated the sky with twinkling silver lights. I pointed to one bright star near the horizon but was told it was the planet Jupiter. Below like a mirror on a lake, the city lights were an amazing sight, Christmas trees dotted rooftops. Radiant colors along the river marked its course. Along a straightaway the water appeared to be glowing. “That’s the Riverwalk. Out there in the dark is the Alamo” Old traditions and new opportunities. Isn’t this a charming city?”
Reaching into her purse to pull out a perfectly rolled joint she lit up and took a long draw. She held her breath, handing the doobie to me. A nod of her head told me what to do. I had not partaken in this form of recreation since learning I was pregnant. Well why not? Taking the weed stick back, she had me to close my eyes and open my mouth wide. Thinking this was to enhance the effect, I complied. Then the softest lips met mine as she shot-gunned directly into my lungs. Hold and exhale I told myself. Once again her mouth attached as a full cloud of smoke was again pushed inside. The wine and weed made me giddy and little woozy.
“Let’s get you inside. You look cold with all those goosebumps.” Cindy extinguished the flame, tucked the blunt in its pouch and practically carried me down a few flights of stairs. We entered a dark hallway, through an inner door to a space with offices to each side. Turning into one, she sat me on a comfortable couch with a view of the city through the window. Static electricity sparked as she briskly rubbed me all over, first the spine and then back of the legs. I felt safe and warm when we sat back to huddle and cuddle.
I placed my hands inside her sweater to warm them, but she wasn’t wearing a bra. I wouldn’t have guessed but her breasts were real: supple, banana shaped with upturned nipples. She laid hands on top of her sweater and held mine in place as a signal to explore. I was curious because I never “felt-up” or practices kissing a girl before, even in my teens. Her hands let go to grasp my head, turning my neck to kiss me. I wanted to tell her “I’m not into girls” but did not resist the first or second or third, I don’t remember how many. I surrendered, feeling a spark with the touch of our tongues. I slipped mine into her mouth. They gently danced and rolled as Cindy began to suck while I speared. Barely perceptible moans could be heard but who was making them?
Feeling a scratching on my thigh, I froze for a moment. Neither of us could make up our mind what do to next. I was so wet and knew not all of it came from my husband. To her credit she waited for me to invite her into my love hollow. When I could not take the initiative to advance, she broke off the embrace to glaze over my top, her nails raked concentric circles to trace my cookies, then giving the Hershey tips a hard pinch. Three thoughts for my husband. Chasing “I’m glad I was a good girl” out of my mind was “I’ll never leave him hanging like that” to “I wish it I didn’t always have to be me to get things going” He had taken charge on the way here, so it was easier to hit the brakes now. “Too bad we couldn’t be pillow friends because I really like your pillows,” Cindy explained. “I’m not gay or bi and we don’t swing. You were just so irresistible I lost myself. I hope you will forgive me.”
On to the ladies’ room. Eyes accustomed to dark were assaulted by bright light. Splashing water on my face, I cleaned off the lipstick smear and brushed my teeth with my finger; minty toothpaste applied by my host. Steadied by her arms around my waist; I began to regain equilibrium. Placing cheeks side by side we examined ourselves in mirror. Our hair a perfect contrast of coffee and cream, my dark freckled skin complimented her clear and clean snow white. I have to admit my new friend made me feel sexy. But who was I kidding?
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