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Asian hairy girlsThe party was one town over, about a half hour’s ride away.
I’d been going nuts with wanting this man all week, and the second we
were in the car I leaned over and kissed him, sliding my tongue into
his mouth. He tasted faintly minty, as his tongue pressed back against
mine. His hand came up under my neck, behind my head, and he pulled
me closer to him for a moment before letting go.

“You look incredible tonight,” he murmured into my ear,
playfully dipping his tongue into it.

“So do you,” I said. “Shall we go? The sooner we get to
the party, the sooner we can decently leave so I can fuck your brains
out. Sex on the phone the other night was fun, but…”

“Right then.” He pulled away from me, drawing his hand across
my breasts as he did so.

The mistake I made is easy to spot, in retrospect. We were just
on the verge of leaving town when I put my hand on his knee. I really
did mean it to be just affectionate, despite how Craig has teased me
since. But his knee was a little far down, and before I realized it my
hand had slid up his thigh, and my fingers brushed against the bulge
under the soft material of his pants. And from there, I really
couldn’t help myself, memories of how good his eight inches had felt
the week before and all. I moved my hand up higher, and gave him a
good, hard squeeze through the cloth. He moaned, just a little, and
leaned back in the seat to give me more access.

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I don’t normally wear make-up, but that outfit needed every-
thing to be dressed up. Not to mention that I wanted to knock Craig
flat on his back. He’d never seen me in anything but jeans or that
lumpy Mrs. Claus costume, and I wanted to look as good as I could for
him. When he came to pick me up, I knew I’d done well.

“Judy!” he exclaimed, when I answered the door to my apartment,
“You look…intensely good.” He didn’t look bad himself, in a tux
that fit too well to be a rental. I was impressed. I went to stick
my head in the living room to tell my roommate, Laura, that I was off,
but she and her girlfriend were involved in a heavy necking session
on the couch already, so we just left.

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He’d told me to dress formal, and I intended to take that as
far as I could go. I had my last paycheque, and a number of Christmas
present gift certificates, so I went wild at the Boxing Week sales.
I’m not particularly tall, and I fit Reuben’s definition of female
beauty better than I fit Jane Fonda’s. There are definite advantages
to a rounder figure, and I have learned to play them up. Quite
literally, in the case of my breasts, which are double-d cups. I
bought a bustier, which I’d been eyeing for a long time. It did
wonders for my shape, pushing my tits together and up. Looking down
into actual cleavage was just as much of a thrill as looking at it
can be, and the sensation of being bound and held in place was
incredibly exciting. I bought a deep red knit dress to wear over
it. The dress was clingy in a fifties sweater sort of way – it showed
off the shape of my breasts and the roundness of my hips perfectly.
Black lace stockings and a new set of shoes to match the dress
finished off the picture very nicely.
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I’m a firm believer that what you do on New Year’s Eve is what
you’ll wind up doing the rest of the year. That’s why I’m so glad that
Craig and I rang in 1993 the way we did. It bodes well.

Craig and I had been working together up until Christmas as
Santa and Mrs. Claus at the local mall. On our last day, the 24th, I
was a more than willing partner to my own seduction. We’d been talking
every day between Christmas and New Year’s, complaining about our
families and talking about our presents. I have a button that says
“Intelligence is the ultimate aphrodisiac”, and the more I talked to
Craig the more I wanted to see him again.

He had an invitation to a party that one of his friends was
giving. He told me he hadn’t been planning on going, because the only
thing worse than spending New Year’s at home alone was spending New
Year’s alone in a room full of people who were definitely NOT alone.
And, according to the flatterer’s own admission, he’d been expecting
to sit home moping that he’d never see me again, since our seasonal
work was done.