Authors Note: This isn't one of my usual long stories. This is a little quickie for those of you who want a hot quick read before bed. I hope you enjoy my little yarn.
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It was the end of the year, and this had been a hard one. I sat in front of the tv watching a movie so old that it wasn't even in color. It was the second time in twenty years that I was spending New Year's Eve alone. I had to say, it wasn't what I'd planned or wanted. I sat in my recliner in my empty house, half watching the movie and half watching the fire in the fireplace, wishing that things had worked out differently. I suppose too much time at work and not enough time with her had sealed the deal. The sad thing was that I thought what I was doing was for her, but in the end it was the wrong thing to do. So here I sit, alone, divorced, did I say alone?"
I'd had half a dozen invitations to parties for tonight, some from couples that were friends, wanting me to get out and not sit sulking at home. Some from some of the young ladies at work that had suddenly decided that I needed a sympathy date, or whatever misguided reason they'd invite a man ten years their senior to a party.
Yeah, sitting in the near darkness in my flannel pajamas at ten in the evening on New Year's Eve isn't what I would call an exciting situation, but there it is and there I was. Even the movie that I had on was in black and white, as drab as I was feeling. I muted the commercial and closed my eyes, listening to the warm friendly crackle of the fire I'd built in the fireplace. I'd always loved watching and listening to fires. Camp fires especially. I could sit for hours and watch the coals wiggle and hop deep in the orange glowing pockets between the logs. A jet of trapped gasses hissed and whined briefly in the fireplace, drawing my attention to the fire.
The doorbell startled me from watching the blue base of the flames dancing along, just above the surface of the log. "Who the hell could that be?" I asked with a frown as I put the footrest on my recliner down and walked to the front door. I opened the heavy oak door and stared at the sight before me. Two young women from work, both in extremely short party dresses, each holding a bottle of wine in each hand, were smiling broadly in the light falling snow.
"JIMMY!" Amanda, the thinner of the two in a very tight red dress, cried cheerfully. "God! Let us in before we freeze our cute little asses off out here!" She said as she swept past me from the cold night into my warm living room. She turned and looked at me. "You absolutely positively refusssed. I mean refused, to come to the party with us, so we brought the party to you!" she said emphatically, reaching out with a finger to poke my nose, nearly hitting me with the bottle in her hand at the same time. "OOOPS!" She giggled.
"God Amanda! Are you drunk?" I asked in surprise, as she giggled girlishly.
"Well NO! I'm not drunk. Well, not as drunk as I could be! Am I Jean?"
"You're drunk Amanda!" Jean, her friend replied. "But then that's what happens when you drink half a bottle of wine!"
I've known Jean and Amanda for a handful of years now. Both of them work elsewhere in the company, in different departments than the one I manage, though I interact with them professionally fairly frequently. After my separation, both of them seemed determined to make those interactions more personal. As time has passed, they have both made efforts to press those business interactions toward personal only interactions. Yes, that does mean what you think. They have both suggested at different times that we should go out on...gulp...a date! The last such suggestion came from both of them at once, not only a date, but an invitation to a New Year's Eve party. I of course declined as politely as possible. But they were nothing if not insistent. Between them, they had invited me no less than a dozen times before I finally put my foot down and told them that no amount of inviting would get me to agree. Not only because I was more than ten years older than them, but because I just didn't feel like celebrating. The girls of course insisted that THAT was exactly why I needed to go to the party with them.
"Was it a whole half bottle?" Amanda asked with a giggle.
"At least," Jean answered her friend.
"Oh well. At least I'm warm now," she said with another giggle. "And look at you. Sexy!" She said as she stepped toward me. I stepped back until I was against the wall and she continued stepping toward me until she was pressing herself against me. "Flannel jammies. Bet you're not wearing anything under them either, are you?" She asked, running a finger down my chest, trying to tug on my flannel top with her finger while holding the wine bottle at the same time. She leaned her head toward me trying to look down my PJ top as she pulled it out from my chest.
I reached up and grasped her hand, and the bottle, and pulled it gently from me, unhooking her finger from my top. "There isn't much there to see," I said quietly as she released the bottle into my hand and slipped hers from mine.
"I know. There is a bit lower though," She giggled. "But I've got stuff to see up there. I know you've been dying to see my tits. I bet you've been wishing you could pull my dress off at work. I know you want to see me allllll naked," she whispered, holding her other arm out to hand the bottle in that hand to Jean. She looked over at Jean as she took the bottle and then moved both her hands to the small straps holding the dress up on her body. She grinned at me and pulled the straps off her shoulders, pulling the material down her upper arms, dragging the top of her dress down lower. I stared as she inched the red dress down her top, exposing more and more of her creamy breasts until the dress was ready to expose her areola and nipples. "Want me to keep going? Want me to show you my sexy little tits? Wanna reach out and touch them and play with them?" she asked teasingly, holding the straps so that the dress pulled tight across her breasts.
I reached out with one hand, the one without the bottle, and gently pushed the strap up her arm. "I don't think this is appropriate."
Amanda pouted at me. "You don't wanna see my sexy little titties?" she asked sadly, pulling her left strap down farther until the top of her dress was skewed diagonally across the top of her body, her right breast covered as I pulled that strap up and her left now completely exposed as she pulled that strap down. Her breast was firm and perky, pushing out proudly from her chest easily the size of a coconut half. Her areola was small, barely larger than a half dollar, with a firm nipple almost the diameter of my pinky, pushing out from the center. "Oh look! There one is!" She said, suddenly turning from the sad pouting face to a smiling giggling one. I let go of her right dress strap and shifted my hand to reach for her left one and pull it up as well. She intercepted my hand and pulled it against her bare breasts. "Ohhhhhh. See you did wanna touch it, didn't you?" She asked with another giggle.
"God, you are drunk," I said softly as I eased my hand from under hers and moved it to pull up the strap.
"Not so drunk that I don't know what I'm doing," she said quietly, the giggle disappearing. "And what I'm doing is something I've been wanting to do for months!" She slid her hand down from her still exposed dress top to her hips, grabbing the material of the dress in her fingers and pulled down, sliding the dress down her body even as I tried to pull the strap up her arm. She tugged the stretchy red material down until both breasts were exposed, and then kept on pulling. She moved her hands up, got another grip on the material and pulled down until the top of the dress slid down over her smooth, firm looking stomach and then lower, a pair of tiny pink bikini panties coming into view as her dress slid down over her hips and then down her legs to pool around her feet.
"Amanda!" I said in surprise. "Come on. You shouldn't be..."
