There's always a bit of a buzz round the office in the run up to Christmas. Apart from having a break from work, there's also the office party to look forward to, on the last Friday before we shut down for the Festive season.
I'm Mark, approaching 40, not bad looking, 5'8 and slim build, take good care of myself and try to stay fit, but going bald early, solving the problem by sporting a close clipper cut and with a trimmed beard.
I work as a planner for a local kitchen design company and have just finished a quote for a new job.
I wander out to the main office area to collect my printing.
The three girls that work there are gossiping as usual and as I sort the pages into piles, I listen in to their conversation.
They're discussing the upcoming party and also the kitchen fitting team, trying to decide which one is the hottest. Amy picks Chris, which is obvious as they're going out together, Carol plumps for Barry and Faith decides on Dave.
All cute men, I'm thinking, when Carol behind me asks
"What about you, Mark? Who do you rate as hot?"
I don't really have much to do with the fitters, unless they have a query about my design, but there is one that springs to mind, who I always notice if he's out in the yard.
"They're all good looking guys, but I'd probably pick Glenn."
Amy and Faith both make a retching noise and Carol just lifts an eyebrow.
"You can't be serious, he's the most disagreeable, bad tempered guy ever."
That's true. Glenn is his his late 20s, has worked here for 5 years and doesn't really talk to any of us in the office, especially me, apart from work stuff. He's always arguing with somebody and drinks a fair bit at the weekend, which makes him worse. There have been a quite a few Monday mornings when he turns up for work with skinned knuckles, or bruises from fighting on a Saturday night.
He is however excellent at his job and customers are always very complimentary about the work he's carried out.
Despite all that, I think there's something really sexy about him, with his muscles and black hair, so I say so.
Carol just shakes her head at me.
"I thought you'd better taste than that, Mark."
As I walk back to my office, I hear them whispering, no doubt deciding that I'm maybe not so fussy now that I'm pushing 40.
Ten days later we're at the party. It's held in a big hotel and the company has forked out on overnight accommodation for all the staff, so nobody has to drive home.
Including subcontractors, there's about 60 people there and when I arrive with Carol, who's driven me over, the bar is already busy, as the first hour is free.
We stand with our drinks and survey the room.
Carol nods her head towards the far end of the bar.
"I see the boys have started early."
I follow her gaze and see our fitting team crowded round the end of the bar. By the look of them, they've been in the pub first, as there's a lot of drinking and loud conversation going on.
They look different out of their work clothes and have all made an effort to look smart.
I spot Glenn with a beer in his hand, laughing at something Chris has said.
He's wearing dark trousers and a wine red shirt, open at the neck which shows a fair bit of his hairy chest.
As if he's aware of being watched, he looks in our direction and his face turns into a scowl, before he turns round.
Carol makes a face at me.
"What's his problem?"
"It's how he is, Carol, especially where I'm concerned."
"Do you think he's homophobic, then?"
"Oh I think he hates mostly everybody, so I don't take it personally."
The rest of the evening is great, a Christmas meal with all the trimmings, followed by a DJ and dancing.
At the end of the night, most guests either head home, or up to their rooms, but a few diehards linger in the bar.
Carol and I settle on a comfy sofa in the corner and we're joined by Amy and Chris, for a nightcap.
Some of the boys are still at the end of the bar and I'm surprised they're still standing, as I'd spotted them doing shots earlier.
We finish our drinks and the other three slip outside for a last cigarette, while I decide to call it a night.
I get in the lift and just before the doors close, an arm appears to force them open again and a very drunk Glenn stumbles in, hitting the wall.
We start moving and he comes right up close to me, leaning against my shoulder.
"Well hello, Mark. Did you enjoy the party?"
"Yes, it was a good night."
I was a bit uncomfortable being so close to him, as I knew he could be a bit of an unpredictable drunk, so when he turned, with his face close to mine, I wasn't sure what to expect.
"So a little birdie tells me that you fancy me, is that right?"
I silently cursed Amy because she must have told Chris.
"What gave you that idea?"
"I heard you think I'm sexy, so you must fancy me, right?"
"No, Glenn. Somebody's picked it up wrong."
He got right in my face.
"I don't believe you. I've seen you watching me at work and I've heard you like a bit of cock, so how about this."
He grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch. I could feel his semi hard cock through his trousers and it felt pretty big as he pressed my hand against it.
"See, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Just then the lift reached my floor and as the doors opened, he let me go.
I ducked past him, but he followed.
"Come on, Mark, you know you want to."
I'd no idea what had brought this on, but I wanted no part of it. I turned back towards him.
"Go to bed, Glenn."
He caught me up and grabbed me round the neck in a head lock, his face inches from mine.
"I don't think you get it. I'm coming to your room and you're going to suck me off."
He didn't let go, but half dragged me down the passage, till we came to my room.
I decided I wasn't going to get out of this without getting punched or worse, so thought I might as well do it. With a bit of luck, when it came down to business, Glenn would chicken out, or not be able to get it up.
But he didn't. As soon as we were inside, he leaned against the back of the door and began to undo his trousers.
"On your knees, cocksucker"
