Every Saint Patrick’s Day, we draw names at work to determine who the unlucky designated drivers will be, and two years in a row my name came up.
I was more than pissed, but I was unwilling to renege on my responsibility to make sure that my boozed-up friends arrived home safely.
Last year, St. Patty’s fell on a Thursday and a lot of people planned on going in late the next day (or not at all), so I knew I was in for a long night. As I gathered my things, ready to head for the first stop of the evening, I noticed Michael, one of the guys from advertising, waiting by the exit. He was fairly new to the firm, but I’d had a serious crush on him since day one. I’d heard that he was quiet and kept pretty much to himself. A few of the guys thought he was kind of stuck on himself, and a couple of the regular office sluts had gone after him and come back empty-handed, so with that kind of talk I figured, why even bother?
Michael held the door for me and gave me a smile that sent a pleasant warmth through my body and thoughts through my brain that the night might not be as much of a drag as I’d anticipated. Apparently, Michael also had drawn the short straw, and he figured we could keep each other company. I figured things were looking up.
At the first stop, we sat at the bar and ordered sodas. We talked and swapped stories about nights that we’d gotten totally plastered at bars and parties, and how we’d managed to get home and still crawl into work the next day. He was easy to talk to and I still had a mad crush on him. I was sure that if I got him alone I could fuck him. I rested my hand on his thigh and leaned in close, hanging on his every word. I knew we’d be leaving for the next stop soon, so I looked him in the eye as I moved my hand higher on his leg and told him I was going to stop at the restroom.
Michael was no slouch in the brains department, and he was right behind me as I headed down the dark hallway toward the restrooms. I continued past them and around a corner, stopping in front of the manager’s office. The door was locked, so I decided to take my chances in the dimly lit hall. As soon as I turned to face him, Michael shoved me up against the door and kissed me blind. His hands were all over me, as mine were on him. We didn’t speak, just kissed and felt each other up and moaned into each other’s mouth. I dropped my hand to his crotch and felt a nice hard cock through his pants. I was about to unzip him when he grabbed my hands and pulled them up over my head, holding my wrists together with one large hand. His lips heated my flesh as his kisses burned a path from my lips, along my cheek, and down my neck.
I wanted to rip off my clothes to feel more of his mouth on my skin, but I had to settle for him sucking on my neck as he rhythmically ground his erection into my stomach. I moaned and whimpered, wishing I was naked and underneath him. Michael shushed me as one hand pushed my skirt up and pulled down my panties and stockings. Then his fingers were rubbing slowly back and forth through the wetness, along my pussy lips and over my throbbing clit. Without saying a word, Michael dropped to his knees and spread me open with his fingers. Then he licked and sucked as his fingers pushed into me, pumping in and out as I moaned and humped his hand. I wanted to cry out, but whenever I got too loud, Michael stopped what he was doing.
After several pauses, Michael gave me his wet fingers to suck on as he licked and worked on my clit with his other hand. I sucked my own pussy juices from his fingers and writhed against the wall as Michael shoved his tongue into me, applying just the right pressure to my clit. I went off like a rocket, tossing my head from side to side, trying to dislodge his fingers from my mouth. All I could do was scream around them and ride the intense pleasure of the orgasm as it coursed through me. When I opened my eyes, Michael was in front of me, ready to kiss me again and share the fruits of my orgasm.
Michael helped me straighten my clothes and we rejoined our coworkers just as they were about to move down the block. I felt so wicked and so good, and so happy it was Saint Patrick’s Day. At the next bar, we found a private spot and I sucked Michael off. We hit one more bar, and it was my turn again. I told Michael I wanted to even things up, so before we left to get the barflies home, I gave him my address. It’s almost that time of year again, and we’re still trying to even the score.