A Christmas Affair

This a bit of a slow burner again, I'm hoping this is the start of series. Please let me know your comments, good or...constructive...

-

"I'm guessing asking if you're anywhere near ready, would be a really stupid question?" Tom shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

"Nearly!" Came the reply, "It takes time to look this perfect, you know."

"You were perfect when you got out the shower an hour ago."

"I looked like a bedraggled tramp and you know it! But I'll be down in 5 minutes."

Tom pulled up his jacket sleeve and checked his watch, again; the taxi was due in 10 minutes, so they were doing ok. Dressed in his dark blue suit, white dress shirt, no tie and brown leather brogues, he gave himself a once over in the hallway mirror. His 35-year-old, 6 foot 1 muscular frame smiled back as he made sure he looked smart. Running, football and his job as site carpenter kept him looking trim, his beard cut close to his square jaw echoing the length of his hair. A quick check of his teeth, a brush down of his jacket with his hands and he was set to go, just as Sandy appeared at the top of the stairs.

He looked up at his 34-year-old wife of 8 years and give the traditional wolf whistle. Clad in a pale green dress that showed off her cleavage and made its way down just beneath her knees, showing her hour glass figure along the way. She always seemed anxious about the weight she had put on since the kids had arrived, but truthfully, Tom preferred her size 12 body to the 8 he'd first met. Her breasts at least a full size larger and her butt so much shapelier now. Not that she ever believed him. Her blonde hair hanging in ringlets besides her pretty pale face and her blue eyes matching her husband's, her full lips pouting in dark red as she posed.

"Will I do?" She asked, her hands under her chin, her long eyelashes fluttering.

"I'm more bothered about what I'm about to do to you," Tom replied on his way up the stairs.

"Get away from me, you pervert," Sandy giggled, "we've a Christmas party to go to before I decide if you're getting lucky, buddy."

The ping on his phone told Tom the taxi had arrived, "To be continued," he quipped, but he was sure it would be another night of disappointment.

The flirting and banter between them had become a pantomime lately. He struggled to remember the last time they'd actually made love. Twin 4-year-old girls made any kind of nightly passion difficult, but even with them sleeping over at Granny's house tonight, he didn't dare dream.

-

The taxi pulled up at the hotel and they walked into the busy bar area. Sandy worked in administration for a large engineering company, and their staff from all levels, and their partners, made for around 200 people. After a quick walk around and several hellos, they found where some of the admin team had collected around a table and joined them. Only 5 others there so far, Sandy's work-best-friend Gill and her husband; a couple in the early 40's that Tom never really managed to gel with. Gill had moved department recently, so Tom figured they'd be lost in gossip all night. Another couple were sat opposite, he didn't recognise them but guessed them to be early 60's, and then there was George.

George was the administration manager, a grey haired, grey 50 something in a grey suit, Tom smiled and managed to hide a look of horror as his shoulder was jovially punched as a welcome.

"Hey big Tom, how about that cricket today eh? We'll show those West Indies, won't we? They got lucky today, but we'll show 'em tomorrow, eh, won't we?"

"Fuck off George, you boring twat, I fucking hate cricket and I fucking hate you, you bloody moron" ... somehow managed to come out as "Hi George, yes I'm sure we will." He turned to Sandy, "I need a drink."

"I'll have a gin and tonic, a fruity one if they have one, make it large darling please," she replied before turning back to her friend.

Tom turned from the table to head for the bar and almost knocked over an angel dressed in red. She let out a small squeal as he caught her arm and kept her from actually falling by pulling her into and against his body. He held her tight, making sure she found her balance fully, and taking time to notice how gorgeous she smelled and felt before releasing her.

"And who is this hunk?" She beamed beautifully up at him, her large eyes, wide open, her brunette hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, a tinsel halo above. Her rosy-red lips contrasting her bright white teeth in a massive welcoming smile.

"Hi," he smiled back, "I'm..."

"My husband, Tom!" a voice appeared over his shoulder, "This is Nicki, the new admin assistant. Hey, weren't you bringing, erm what's his name..."

"Dickhead? Do you mean Dickhead?" The smile fully dissipated, "Yes, I was, but when I went to his flat this afternoon, he said he needed space! I turn up dressed like this and he dumped me!"

She stood back and gave them a twirl. Tom guessed her to be early 20's, around 5 foot 4, even with the heels, her red dress now clearly a very short Christmas number. The bright red sequinned velvet material laced with fluffy white cotton, hugging her tiny figure. It cut deep down the front between her breasts, accentuated with glitter, and barely venturing halfway down her thigh, showing off her stunning shapely legs. A small set of wings on the back for extra effect.

"Seriously, who would dump a Sexy Santa Angel Fairy just 2 weeks before Christmas?" She curtsied, beaming again.

"An idiot!" Tom replied, realising he hadn't actually said it inside his head this time, but glad to notice Sandy hadn't heard; the look from Nicki said otherwise. "Well, you've timed it right for a drink, I'm just going to the bar, what can I get you?"

"Oh, ok, erm surprise me," she smiled.

"Yeah, I actually don't know you at all, so you're gonna have to give some help here. I mean, I don't see you as a G and T type of girl, but yeah, why don't you describe yourself to me with your drink."

"Oh, that's easy," again that smile, "I'll have a Pornstar Martini please."

After checking the rest of the group were set for drinks, Tom headed for the bar. Reminding himself on the way, that flirting with his wife's colleague, no matter how stunning she was, was not a good idea.

He returned with the drinks, clinked glasses around the table and desperately tried to find something other than Nicki to look at. Alas, he found he kept glancing her way, noting she was looking at him every time he did.

"Sweetie, can you go check where our table is please? There's a seating plan outside the room apparently," Sandy broke from her conversation to ask, and Tom jumped at the chance to break away and have a stronger word with himself.

He followed the directions into an adjacent room, this one larger than the previous, filled with 20 big round tables, all white clothed and decorated ready for the evening's festivities. He found the plan, saw they were allocated to table 12 and wandered over to see who was seated where. He found his place name and his heart fell, Sandy on his left, next to Gill, on his right was George! Not only would Sandy be chatting facing away from him, but he would also have his Royal Greyness wittering away in his ear. And Nicki was sat directly across from him, how would he not stare now?

He headed back to the bar and almost bumped into Nicki again, "We really must stop doing this." He quipped.

"Must we?" Those full eyes on him again. "This room looks fun, what's that line from that Christmas film? Full of dark corners for dark deeds."

"Love Actually!"

"What?"

"The film, it's called Love Actually."

"Oh," she blushed, "I thought you meant in the corners..."

A long paused passed between them.

"Well, we're over there, by that dark corner of yours, table 12." He left before he got himself deeper into trouble.

He returned to the bar, collected another round and joined the table again, desperately trying to whittle his way into his wife's conversation. The banging of an ice bucket on the bar brought a hush around the room.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your places next door, food is about to be served."

The volume crescendoed again as everyone headed through, squeezing out of one door and through the next.

"I don't know why everyone does that, it's the same on planes isn't it." It was George, "You don't arrive any quicker by being seated first. It is the same isn't it Tom, I say isn't it just the same as on planes, Tom?"

"Yes, George, I guess it is." God, I've got a couple of hours of this, Tom thought as he looked away and saw Nikki giggling.

Once the crowd had died down to a level deemed acceptable to George, they walked through and now having to squeeze past the other tables, found theirs. Tom pulled out his wife's chair, ever the gentleman, and once seated, began to take his own.

"Don't I get the same service?" Tom looked down and saw it was now Nicki's name on the place setting next to his, he looked across the table to see a dejected George sat there. He raised an eyebrow and pulled back her chair.

"Madam."

She sat, and he took his own seat, having to hop it forward into the tight place between the 2 ladies.

"I'm wondering, was the table set this way earlier?" He asked, rhetorically.

"I'm not sure what you're suggesting. I mean, you can sit next to George if you..." she ended the sentence in an exaggerated yawn.

He smiled, nodding. "Ok, Ok. Wine?" He reached for the red and white, making sure to pour his wife's glass of white first, then, reading her gesture, poured the same for Nikki, red for himself.

The 60 something couple pulled their crackers between them, and the rest of the table followed suit. Tom, again making sure to pull his wife's cracker first, noting he lost and that she barely noticed, too lost in chat and giggles. He turned to Nicki.

"You've a habit of making me come second." It was her turn to raise an eyebrow, "I'm not saying that's a bad habit, but I could get a complex here."

Tom glanced at his wife and turned back. "You need to stop that; you'll get me into trouble."

"Oh, you've no idea." She smiled, looking into his eyes, "but I'll try to behave. As long as you pull me. I mean pull my cracker." Again, that beaming smile.

Tom shook his head, took hold of the cracker and pulled. The loud snap announced his victory as the parcel of toy, hat and joke flew into the air and landed on his lap. He reached down for it and found he had been beaten to it. Nicki's hand grabbed the gift and rubbed her hand across his crotch before retrieving it.

"Oops." She was looking into his eyes again, no smile this time.

Tom stood up, "just off to the loo," and headed out to the restrooms, not looking back.

"Jesus," he stood in the cubicle talking inside his head. "What the actual fuck? This cannot be happening." He leaned against the door and took a few deep breaths, "How the hell do I get myself out of this? I mean, she is stunning, but this is too much, Sandy is sat right there. Come on, time for big boy pants on, just tell her to stop, whether you want her to or not."

He returned to the table, to see Sandy still engrossed in chat and a sheepish Nicki looking down at her lap. He sat and pulled his seat in.

"Sorry," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

"It's fine," he whispered back, "but please stop, this is not on and not wanted. I'm literally sat next to my wife. You are a stunning young lady; I know you've just been...just come out of a relationship."

"Dumped."

"Yeah, sorry. But why me? The room's full of eligible young engineers."

"Sorry....again. It's just the way the held me, the way you look at me, I thought...sorry. I'll go."

"Don't be silly, stay, drink, be merry. Just no more flirting and definitely no more touching." He topped up her glass.

They chatted a little as the night went on, Tom tried to involve Sandy in a few points, but she was obviously too engrossed in her catch up with Gill, there was no time for him tonight. So, the polite conversation with Nicki continued, as did the drinking. He topped up the glasses again, the table was on the 3

rd

bottle of white, he emptied the last of the bottle of red into his glass and realised no one else had helped him.

"I need to slow down," he said, slurring slightly. He dropped his hands next to his legs, his fingers catching Nicki's leg on the way down and found his hand now touching hers. "Oh, Sorry."

"You know I'm not!" She looked him in the eyes. "I'm sorry, I'll stop. But what is going on? Nice of Sandy to bring you and ignore you!"

"It's complicated," his eyes dropped to his lap, he felt Nicki's hand rub the back of his.

"I wouldn't be ignoring you. When she introduced you as her husband earlier, I thought I was going to spend the evening being put in my place, but she's not bothered is she? If I was her and I saw me sat next to you, I wouldn't let you and I out of my line of sight all night." She paused, her brow furrowed as she replayed the last sentence, "That made sense in my head..."

Tom smirked "I think I get you. And, honestly, I see you're point. I'm sat next to stunning girl in a barely dress and she's not batted an eyelid. Does that mean she trusts me or she doesn't care? I bet I could snog you right now and she wouldn't notice."

"I'm not so sure." Nicki laughed, she grasped Tom hand and lifted and placed it on top of her thigh, again looking into his eyes, "Maybe something a little less obvious."

Tom looked at his wife and around the table. Sandy now had her back to him completely, Gill's husband getting the same treatment. He, in turn, was chatting with the 60's and George. Another couple, who'd arrived later, were lost in each other's company, Tom couldn't tell if their body language was frosty or frisky, no one else was required either way. No one was looking their way, that was for certain.

Tom allowed his hand to slide along the top of Nicki's leg and back up the the hem of her dress a few times, slowly and gently rubbing her bare skin. He stopped at her knee and caressed it before slipping to the inside, his knuckles caught her right knee but only briefly as he felt her legs separate. He gulped as he slid his hand up her inner thigh, and caressed up and down until his hand found the cotton of the dress's edging. He glanced at Nicki and saw her eyes again fixed on his.

"You need to stop looking at me," he whispered, "anyone who sees that lust in your eyes will know what's going on."

Nicki shook her head, realising he was right, she reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. She opened Facebook and began flicking through it with her right thumb. She dropped her other hand under the table and found Tom's thigh and squeezed. "This look distracted enough?"

Tom squeezed her leg back and continued his stroking of her inner thigh, each upward stroke moving slightly higher. He felt the back of his fingers catch her other thigh and knew he could stroke no further. He slowly twisted his wrist towards her and stretching out his little finger, found the cotton of her panties. He heard her draw a short breath and he froze, checking the table. Once he was sure no one else had heard he began to rub her thigh again, this time every movement allowing his finger to slide along her crotch, feeling the warmth coming from her.

He felt her hand leave his thigh, slide in between his arm and torso and land firmly on his steadily hardening cock. He felt her groping the growing mound, his penis trapped at the front, forming a tent and threatening his zip. Realising the issue, she manually moved his manhood to the side, freeing it within his trousers and boxers and allowing it to stretch and lengthen along his leg. She wrapped her hand around the material of the trousers encasing his cock and squeezed. Now was Tom's time to catch his breath.

He felt her grip on his penis loosen so just her fingertips were now in contact and begin to slide along its length. After several seconds and strokes, her nails dragging along his shaft, she found his helmet and tickled around it. He felt her trying to pull back his foreskin through his trousers before stroking his full length again. Feeling her then reach around and cup his balls, he struggled to keep his face neutral.

Slightly adjusting his hand position, he managed to sneak a finger under the edge of her panties and pull them aside, his little finger this time found bare flesh, bare hot damp flesh. Holding back the material with middle finger, his 2 smaller fingers now stroked along her lips, spreading her wetness. He found her entrance and drew circles around it, heading inwards until they were poised and ready. Curling his fingers inward, towards his palm, he pushed them inside and entered her. He began to move them in and out of her pussy in quick furious movements before remembering where he was. He checked the table again and was relieved to see they were still being ignored.

He felt Nicki pull his zip down and reached her hand inside. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he felt her grab his cock and pull it free. He here was, sat next to his wife, his fingers buried inside the pussy of a girl he'd known for 2 hours, her hand wrapped around his now freed cock slowly but firmly wanking him off! She stopped for a moment and nudged his side, he looked her in the eyes and followed her gesture to her phone. She held it up against her breast but leaned it out and showed him the on-screen picture. It was a mirror selfie of her laid on a bed, legs spread wide and completely naked. He felt his balls twitch and had to concentrate to make it sure he didn't lose control completely. He saw her open a blank text.

I want him,

she squeezed his cock hard,

insert her now!

"Oh, just pop up on the table," he whispered, "I fuck you right here, shall I?"

She giggled and typed again.

Disabled toilet, first floor, wait 10 minutes.

She released his cock, removed his hand and stood up.

"Sorry everyone, I've an issue I'm going to have go and sort out. It was a lovely night though." With that, and a few murmured comments from around the table, she left.

Tom glanced at his watch, took a deep breath and rubbed his hand across his face as he tried to work out what was actually going on. The smell of his fingers made him jump, her sweet pussy juice all over them, he panicked, what if Sandy could smell her too? He quickly dropped his hand under the table. He grabbed a napkin and tried to clean his fingers, then wiped the precum from his cock too. He tried desperately to think of something else to make his erection drop but struggled. He checked his watch again, only 1 minute had passed! He listened in to his wife's conversation and tried to join in again. He even tried to talk with George across the table, but the noise of the room made it impossible. He felt the tension drop from his cock and rapidly stuffed it away again and zipped up. Again, at his watch, 6 minutes. Really? He spent just a couple more minutes lost in his own thoughts before gave up.

"I'm feeling a little tipsy, babe." He touched his wife's back, "I'm just popping for a bit of fresh air."

A waved hand over her shoulder dismissed him on his way.

He stood, quickly adjusted himself, and headed out of the room. He found the stairs and attempted to look casual as he passed others but was almost running up them. He followed signs for the toilets, noting how busy the area was, presuming it to be a mix of several parties. He scanned for people who might recognise him, happy to not spot any, while finding the door to the disability toilet.

He tried the handle and found it to be locked. He rapped twice, and hearing both a return knock and the door unlock, he stepped inside, immediately locking the door after himself.