True Sex Stories: The Xmas Party

Putting a little extra "Ho ho ho!" in this year's holiday cheer.

Sara and I met at my place for dinner and pre-drinks drinks before heading out for the clubs on Friday night. On the way to the tube station, we passed by a hotel two blocks from my apartment building. Inside, unusually, the lobby was swarming with people. I had worn a dressy casual outfit - a dark green sweater top over a tank top, which was a still darker shade of green, a black knee length skirt, stockings that reached to mid-thigh, heeled shoes. Sara looked sharp as well. As we appeared to fit in, we decided to crash.

It was the holiday party of a big multinational.

We knew no one, but we nodded and smiled and pretended and lost ourselves in the throng and made conversation about nothing in particular, trading gossip about our imaginary colleagues. Sara hooked up before eleven with a man in a stylish suit. She said goodbye to me before departing the party to continue her evening in a hotel room several floors above. I boozed up on martinis at the bar, trading drinks off charm.

My phone said it was eleven thirty when I resolved to make a move. I had been there almost two hours, and I knew that Sara must have gotten laid in the time she had been gone. I wanted sex as well - after all, that was the point of our going out.

Returning from the toilet, I meandered through the large room - less crowded than before, but still busy - looking for possible assignations. A man who I had conversed with earlier had said he was a programmer on the web design team. I remembered him for his caustic wit and his superior knowledge of American sports. We chatted some more, and I suggested that we wander a bit.

In a bathroom downstairs, a room with a lock, the two of us half-stripped. Skirt and panties puddled by the sink, my heels sat on the countertop, and I padded around in black stockings. He lost the jacket of his blue suit and his trousers. I pulled him to me by his unknotted tie; the kisses saved us from drowning.

My back and arms were braced against the wall with my thighs tight against his chest and the calves dangling from his biceps and shoulders. He threw me backward, his body slamming me into the unyielding brick. The force of impact when the cock bottomed out and dragged me up jolted the muscles in my back each time. As he fucked me, gradually, my weight shifted down: my arms wrapped his neck and his head while my legs hooked around his waist and crossed at the ankles. He came with my body pinned by his cock, the cunt compressing about him and milking the orgasm out. I didn't come, but that was ok: he had made me sweat.

We dressed and parted, and I think he left the party soon after that.

My night also ended in a hotel room, with a balding, slightly overweight, and bespectacled middle manager. I accepted his invitation because I liked the baritone voice and the booming laugh and the wry sense of observation. Naked, he stretched out on the bed, and I fellated him from my knees from between his feet, which were rooted to the floor. Afterwards, he positioned me on the mattress on all fours and licked my pussy, squeezing his tongue and fingers into the tight spaces. While he fucked me doggy style, he pressed his fingers to my lips for me to lick and suck. As well, he fucked me from behind, lifting one leg in the air, the grip of his hand tight below my knees, as I laid on my side and twisted my arm off the bed to thrust back at him. I came from how his cock pounded me, and he exploded into the condom just after the aftershocks of my last spasm.

On the second round, he had me straddling him, my hands pushing off the woolly thighs behind me while he held me by the waist and bounced me up and down over his erection. He had me in missionary position, with my nails clawing his back and my cunt constricting about the shaft in orgasm. Then he had me on top again, facing his feet this time, and the backs of my thighs ricocheted hard off the fronts of his, and the flesh of my ass shook at the collision with his groin. He pulled off the condom and fucked my tits, his rigid shaft sliding against the sternum while I pressed the breasts together and narrowed the cleavage to squinch up the passage. The semen exploded over my face, leaving streaks of white in my hair. After I had cleaned up in the bathroom, I said my farewells and went home to slumber under the blankets of my own bed.

Republished with permission from Leah Lays London. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.