The office Christmas party is the traditional occasion for out-of-control, unwise couplings. But it doesn’t have to be Christmas. We used to have a summer event when we would take the twenty-minute ferry ride to a small neighbouring island. This was in Guernsey and the little island was called Herm. You can walk around it in an hour. It’s like a Robinson Crusoe place, but with a pub and a hotel and beach kiosks. Beautiful beaches. And at night it’s magical.
Our group was having dinner in the pub/restaurant – a special Thai menu which was tasty but there wasn’t enough of it. I was a journalist on a consumer magazine. I wrote about all sorts of things, did road tests, and so on. I had only been there a few months. One of the advertising girls, Jane, was an old friend, a lot younger than me, but we had worked together in the past. The boat back was scheduled for eleven pm and it was 9:30; the party was in full swing and getting a bit silly. Food fight with another table, all that sort of thing.
Jane and I slipped out on the pretext of going to the toilet and we met around the side, under a tree. It was a lovely summer evening. There had never been anything romantic between us, but I felt that was largely due to circumstances. She was a good-looking girl in her early twenties with long brassy hair. Slim, with small breasts. Quite pretty. I took her hand and led her down to a nearby beach. The tide was out – way down the sand because the tides are big in that part of the world. We sat on a rock and started talking about people.
“So, you ever shagged any of the girls?” Jane asked.
I put an arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “I have always wanted to shag you.”
“You’ve never even kissed me,” she argued, looking into my eyes. She hadn’t flinched and I thought maybe I was right. And now we had the circumstances. “And we’re both married,” she said in an attempt to cool my ardour.
“Separated,” I reminded her. “Not a problem.” I pulled her to me and kissed her and she kissed me back.
“You’re lovely,” I said softly.
“So are you,” she replied.
I put my hand on her thigh and slid it up towards her crotch.
“You’re not going to shag me tonight,” she said in a friendly tone. “I want to, but not here and not now.”
“How about a little blow job?” I asked.
“I don’t want to do that right now,” she said almost apologetically. “Maria might. Ask her.” Maria was another member of the advertising department, pleasant enough to look at but not overtly sexy.
“You think?” I asked.
“I’ll go and get her. Wait there.” She set her body to leave but then turned to me. “I want my turn one day,” she said. “Somewhere nice. A hotel, a flat, somewhere safe and comfortable.” I stood up and wrapped my arms around her.
“I would like that too,” I said. Jane went off and I sat back down on the rock, taking pebbles from the sand and tossing them down the beach. In less than five minutes I heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path and saw Jane with Maria, pointing down the sandy path to the beach. Then Jane left and Maria wandered down, uncomfortable and trying to look casual, swinging her arms.
“Jane said you want to see me,” Maria said, looking at her feet. I took her hand in mine and stroked her palm with my middle finger.
“Yes. It’s nice down here,” I said, trying to work up a script in a hurry. “Herm’s great, isn’t it?”
“It is,” she said.
“You look great tonight,” I said, smooth-talking dork that I am. She did, though. A pale blue sort of tee shirt with sequins and loose khaki shorts. Tanned legs and leather sandals. She was a beach girl. We sat in awkward silence and I put a hand on her knee, then looked at her face.
“Oh God, are you going to kiss me?” Maria said and then flung her face at mine. Somehow we turned a collision into a locking of lips and her tongue was in my mouth, our hands all over each other. You just never know about people. I wouldn’t have thought she would even know how to kiss, but she was in an erotic frenzy. She writhed like a snake, her thighs drawing my hand up and up until my fingers were tickling her crotch. I slid my middle finger into her hot, welcoming pussy and her hand went for my bulge.
“Not here,” she said in a controlled way. “Over there.”
She led me a few yards to a sort of alcove in the rocks. It wasn’t quite a cave, but gave shelter from the wind, or would have if there had been any, and from prying eyes. We leaned up against the tall rock and I got my hand right into her panties. She dispensed with my zip and plunged her hand into the depths of my underpants, feeling my cock as she passed, on her way to hold my balls.
I tried to pull her down.
“No,” she said flatly. “Not now.” As she said so, she dropped to her knees on the dry sand. “Bloody sand gets everywhere,” she said as she took my cock in her mouth and sucked me like it was her favourite thing in the world. She licked me like an ice lolly and sucked me so skillfully that I was quickly on the verge.
“I’m going to cum,” I said breathlessly.
“Okay,” she replied and stroked my buttocks as she invited my balls to deliver their load. They duly obliged and I pumped my semen into Maria’s mouth.
“Shit, that was good,” I said as I adjusted my clothing. “You’re amazing.”
“Why are you surprised?’ she asked. “Do I look so sweet and innocent?” We cuddled for a while and I licked and kissed her neck. “Next time you’re going down on me,” she said. “You live in town, don’t you?”
I did indeed live five minutes’ walk from the ferry, and she was evidently proposing that we continue this later.
“You go first,” she said conspiratorially as we walked back towards the restaurant. I entered as unobtrusively as I could and took my seat. When she came in she went to the bar and came back with a crème de menthe with loads of ice.
Jane, sitting next to me, patted my thigh.
“Okay?” she said in a motherly tone. I was slightly puzzled by her concern for my welfare and her selfless determination to make things good for me. We had always liked each other in a strangely familial way, having grown up in the same area, ten years apart in age, but this was above and beyond the call of duty.
Back in St Peter Port, the crowd broke up as people headed for taxis, but Jane had a huddled conversation with Maria and the secretary, Shazza. Then the three of them walked with me, Jane leading the way, towards my flat.
I had a couple of bottles of wine and some white rum. I got the drinks while Jane put some music on and the other two sat on the sofa and chatted. Maria kept looking at me and I was trying to formulate a plan before Jane stepped in.
“I’m starving,” she said. We had only had dinner two hours earlier, but the other girls echoed her thoughts.
“Thai noodles,” Maria said. “I only had a small plateful.”
“I can go and get some chips,” I offered, looking intently at Maria. If I had been of my Dad’s generation I would have winked, but she was getting the idea that something was afoot. She stood up with me and took the orders from Jane and Shazza.
What only Jane and I knew was the layout of the flat in this old converted family building. To get to the front door you had to go into the hallway, and also in that hallway was the bedroom door.
We shut the living room door behind us and I pulled Maria along to the next door.
“They’re just the other side of that wall,” I whispered as I pulled her onto the bed. She undressed in a trice and lay there on top of the covers, her pretty round breasts perched on her chest and a little forest of black pubic hair at the junction of her crossed legs. I undressed too and was aware of her watching me intently. She had already sucked me off once but she seemed to want to do it again, so I lay back and gave her access. She licked and sucked me and moved onto my thighs and below my balls, to my crotch. Just as I thought she was heading for my arse she stopped.
“Your turn to do me,” she said lying on her back. I lay on top and kissed her tenderly, then licked her neck and moved onto her breasts. She sighed happily as I sucked her nipples and then squirmed with delight when I licked her left armpit. Her thighs sprung open like a trapdoor and I was drawn down to her crotch, where I licked the wonderful, natural feminine fragrance of her vagina. She squirmed more and I realized she was trying to direct me further, into her secret garden. She raised her thighs and exposed her crack and I got down there and touched her anus with my tongue.
“Oh God yes,” she said with a kind of shiver. “Please.” Then she turned over and presented her rump to me and I licked her arse. I don’t know who was more grateful: she that I was doing it or I that she was letting me. I licked her passionately and soon she began to bubble like a pan of soup, until suddenly she boiled over, her fabulous juices running down her pussy lips as she ground her backside into my face. When she settled down I gave her some tender kisses there.
“Amazing,” she said. “I loved that.”
“I noticed,” I replied. “So did I.”
“Chips,” she said after a while. “Can you remember what they ordered?”
We stood in the late-night queue, the happiest odd couple on the planet at that moment, and our fingers entwined of their own volition.
