The Christmas Party

Well, the holidays have been and gone, and I still didn't write the story I was planning, or update my journal. The second I need to address, but it will take some time. I have notes from the night of the Christmas Party, most of which I wrote the following day, but which I've worked on sporadically since the party. I have finally decided that I need to split them across a few days, because I'm still not finished, and because the entry would be far too long to read.

Since the party, Christmas happened. New Year happened. We had our first freeze. And last night, the weather was so mild (with a high of almost eighty yesterday) that I slept with the window open.

For now, though, let's go back before Christmas...

On the Friday before Christmas, I went with Yolanda to her office party. She picked me up around seven. The hotel where it was held was a good distance from home, but one of the more up-market chains. We left her car with the valet and dropped our coats with the attendant.

I hadn't seen how Yolanda was dressed until then. I'd expected her to be in her usual emerald, but she was in black. Not that unusual, as such, many women at the party were in black cocktail dresses, but she had black chains in her hair, black earrings, and a black pendant. The dress had heavy black straps. Goth-elegant, rather than either her usual bright colors or the traditional delicate blacks of others' dresses.

"What's with the vampire look?" I asked.

"All the better to bite you with, my dear," she said, after a moment's thought.

"You're planning to bite me here?"

She laughed. "Later, honey, I'll bite you anywhere you want."

I was a little more conventionally dressed in a cream dress, with a high neck and diamond keyhole top.

I've mentioned before that I thought she was taking me to avoid criticism of her relationship among her conservative co-workers. Well, I was wrong, but at the same time I was right - just not in the way I'd expected.

Her co-workers were almost to a person very welcoming and friendly towards me. Some of them seemed a little puzzled, though. After a couple of her friends misidentified me as "Laurel" or "her partner" I realized what was going on.

They were completely accepting of Yolanda having a female Significant Other, but at the same time they were sufficiently conservative to assume that she would have brought her partner, not some other friend / girlfriend / date. The puzzlement was from those who'd previously met Laurel, and either recognized that I wasn't her or thought that she looked a lot different from before. (As if I could have lost six inches in height in the meantime...)

After introductions, these people seemed without any prejudice. But then, they were all very intense individuals. I know from past conversations with Yolanda that they are highly dedicated - towards tax time they barely have lives outside the office - and they really do live and breathe their profession. Yolanda has always claimed to be unusual among them in that she can "switch off" work when she's away from the office.

With the MBA studies I mostly found myself able to keep up with the conversations, and I had to rebuff one senior manager's suggestion that I apply for a job - I explained that, while there was a lot of overlap, my background is technical / project management, and I have no experience (and less interest, to be honest :) in financial work.

I spent a fair amount of the evening trying to involve the glassy-eyed wives (and a few husbands) in conversation while their spouses were talking shop...

So my impression of the people Yolanda works with is good. I won't say it's perfect or problem-free, there were a few whom she avoided, or who seemed a little supercilious, but no more than I've experienced at other office parties. No more than I'd find in my own company, for that matter.

The party had a casino. It was a huge room, with a roulette table, craps, a couple of blackjack games, etc. The croupiers all seemed very professional - though where one would learn the business around here, I don't know.

When we entered the party, we were each handed $10,000 at the registration table. Not real money, unfortunately :) but good for buying chips at the casino. So we did that, and I moved to the roulette table while Yolanda tried her hand at craps.

I had a few small wins and some bigger losses. I was down about $2,000 when I quit the table to see how Yolanda was doing. She was about breaking even when I arrived, and had attracted an audience, but she hit a losing streak and decided to move on.

After that we sat together at the blackjack table. After a few hands, Yolanda whispered to me, "Want to make this worth playing?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"When we're done, if I have more money than you, I own you. Let's say... for two hours for each thousand dollars I'm ahead."

"What would that mean?"

"You do whatever I tell you for that time."

"Awww, and I thought you were going to bite me wherever I want."

"If I win," she said, "I get to bite you wherever I want. Or maybe I have you bite me. My call."

I frowned. "I don't know," I said. The idea had its appeal, but... "what about Laurel?"

"Helen, honey," she said, "sometimes you seem to know us so well, and sometimes you seem so..." She shrugged. "When I left, she told me not to do anything she wouldn't do. And winked."

"I'm sure she did," I muttered. "What do I get if I win?"

"You get to tell me what to do. Same deal. Tell me to go home, if you want."

"How much do you have?" I asked, eyeing her chips. We counted, and found that I was ahead.

"See, you even have a head start," she said.

I thought about it. To be honest, I'd been wondering just how we were going to end the evening. We'd spent the night together before, but not for about a year. While I don't feel guilty, given our unusual relationship, I do feel uneasy, and I'd expected for her to leave and for me to feel awkward about not asking her to stay. However this bet ended, there would be no need for awkwardness.

In fact, even if I didn't take the bet, there wouldn't. The situation was out in the open, and I could invite her if I wanted to.

"Tell me something, first," I said. "Is that why you asked me here this evening? Why are you with me, instead of with her?"

"Because I wanted to, honey," she said. "We haven't spent much time together lately. Laurel and I, we did our thing at her party. She wanted a rest, I wanted to see you." She grinned. "Well, she'd want to be with you, too, but it's my turn. And I don't have those sweet chat sessions to keep me happy..."

I felt my face turn bright red. I hadn't expected Laurel to tell her about our occasional instant message chats. Again, I underestimated those two.

"You're on," I said. "I'm going to have to decide what to do with you when I win."

"As if," she said, smiling.

Whatever luck I started with seemed to leave me, and soon I my reserves were down below $1,000, while Yolanda was hovering at around $8,000. She kept counting her chips and whispering "sixteen hours."

When I started losing, I also realized the extent of what I'd agreed to. Being Yolanda's sex toy for a few hours was a pretty exciting prospect. But she'd be perfectly within her rights to demand that I make good on my debt to the two of them. And that was still outside my comfort zone.

But it was clear that I wasn't going to recover, and being at Yolanda's mercy for a while mostly sounded good. Better than good. I was feeling tingly with anticipation, and I wanted to get out of the party and back home. But I couldn't just quit. I had to go out with a flourish, to show that I wasn't giving in without a challenge.

So, down at $350, I laughed and stood up. "Come on, girl," I said to her, "I'm taking one last shot."

I led her to the roulette table, where I put everything on 36 red.

But something went wrong. I think we both looked on in horrified amazement as the ball dropped into the 36 pocket.

Of course, I couldn't let her see that I didn't want to collect. And, besides, I have never won on a number before. So I just whooped and picked up my chips. Yolanda was still scowling in shock, then she started laughing.

"I'm cashing in," I said. "You're mine for," quick count, "ten hours, or you can keep playing and see if you come out ahead."

She sighed and shook her head. "Ten hours it is."

So we cashed in. Since I ended up ahead of my stake, the company would donate a percentage of my profit (in real money :) to charity.

In the main room, the DJs had started playing dance music, and we couldn't pass up the chance to show off before Yolanda's co-workers, so we danced a couple of numbers, which got a few other couples out onto the floor, before we made the rounds of her friends and left.


Before I continue - our warm weather spell hasn't lasted. I didn't expect it to, and I did get one night with the window open. I like the sounds and scent of the outside when I sleep, but this time it may have been a mistake. I've been sneezing constantly since I left the window open. I think the warm winter day activated some pollen or fungus spores that I'm not used to. I should wait until spring to do that again.

Continuing The Christmas Party.

"So, what are you going to make me do?" Yolanda asked, as she drove me home.

"Haven't decided," I said. "Maybe I'll just have you go home. And maybe you can do my laundry first."

"Hey," she complained.

"Anything, remember?" I said.

"Yeah," she agreed, scowling.

In fact, I'd already made up my mind. When we were at my place, I took our coats. Then I hooked my finger into her top, between her delectable boobs, and drew her close.

"First, I want you to kiss me," I said.

I've mentioned before that Yolanda's kiss can be demanding, and this was no exception. Maybe she was thinking that she needed to make me want her body before I sent her home. It might have worked - except that I already did. Instead, she just kindled my excitement as she chewed my upper lip, and as I caught her wandering hands and moved them back to my waist.

"I don't think I'll get much laundry done like this," she said, when we broke for air.

"Maybe I'm just giving you a little encouragement first," I replied.

"Keep going..."

A moment later, I broke free again. "If you'd won," I asked, "would your instructions be much like this?"

"Um, yeah," she said. "Pretty much."

"Then this is what I'm telling you to do. For the remaining nine hours and fifty three minutes, you must tell me what to do, just as if you'd won."

Her eyes were bright. "Really?"


"Then go run the shower," she said. "You go first. No hair washing. I'm not waiting for you to dry."

"You won't join me?"

"No, no getting sidetracked either. Go."

"Yes'm," I said.

Yolanda emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and started unfastening my bathrobe as soon as we kissed. By the time it was crumpled on the bed I was pretty much breathless. She wouldn't let me touch the towel, though.

Telling me to lie down, she picked up something she'd set down on a chair. It was a long, soft scarf. She must have brought it from her car while I was showering.

Tying one end to my wrist, she looped it through the headboard and tied it off on the other wrist. I was quite well fastened - not uncomfortably, but securely. Obviously she'd had practice :). Since she obviously keeps it ready in the car, I guess she and Laurel must keep these things around for emergencies.

Then she picked up another scarf. I thought she was going to tie my feet, but no, it went around my head. My world went quite, quite dark.

She left the room for a moment, then returned.

I felt the weight of her on the bed, and then she sank down onto me. She was warm and slightly damp from the shower - the towel was gone - and her curves fitted snugly against mine. Then her lips met mine, and she ran her hands over my sides and my hips, roughly, making contented sounds. I could tell from her touch and her breathing that she was getting aroused, too, as she squeezed her hips against me.

She broke away, and lay against me, breathing heavily. "Whoo, girl," she said. Then I felt her reach out, to my left, to the nightstand. There was a thunk, and a dialtone.

Oh, God, she was going to call Laurel and have her come over.

Well, I was half right.

She let the receiver rest on the bed, against my captive arm. We were close enough together to hear as Laurel answered.

"You'll never guess what I'm doing," said Yolanda.

"What, or who?" came Laurel's voice.


"Right now?"

"Yeah. Mmm."

"Ooh, lucky you."

"Want to listen in?" asked Yolanda.

"Ooh, yeah," Laurel replied.

God, it was one thing for one of them to know that the other was with me, but as a phone voyeur? I wasn't sure if having Laurel come over and join in might be less humiliating. "Wait a minute," I interrupted. "Don't I get a say here?"

"Uh, no," said Yolanda. "I own you, remember?"

I sighed, and heard Laurel chuckle.

Yolanda kissed me again. I could feel her firm breasts pressed against mine, and her fingernails ran over my sides. (Oh, thank God, Laurel hadn't shared details of my most ticklish spot with her.)

Her body moved against mine, and her kiss was hungry. As was mine. I tried to ignore the phone cord draped over my arm, and the more passionate feelings Yolanda gave me, the easier it was to do. Then she lifted herself away from me.

"Sound check."

"It's okay," said Laurel. "I can hear, but it's a little quiet. Can you turn up the volume some?"

"We'll get to that," Yolanda replied, and I felt her shake against me as she laughed. One hand drifted up from my right side to my breast, and caressed, firmly, then gently pinching my nipple.

Her lips found my left breast, and she sucked, my nipple began to swell. Then I felt her reach for the nightstand again. Her mouth left my breast for a moment, then...

"Woah," I breathed. Her lips were cool against my breast. No, cold. Cold enough on my sensitive nipple to send a contraction through my body, nipping at my sex.

"What's going on?" I heard Laurel's distorted voice from the phone receiver.

"She has ice," I said. "She must have an ice cube in her mouth, and she's su... umm, her lips are cold."

I heard Laurel laugh. "How's it feel?"

"It feels..." I gasped as Yolanda pushed the ice against me. "It, uh, feels okay." My thighs tensed as my sex tightened further.

Laurel laughed again, and Yolanda switched her icy kiss to my right breast, working on my left nipple with fingers.

"Did you put her up to this?" I asked the disembodied voice. "Or did the two of you plot this between you?"

"Neither," Laurel said. "I expected her home tomorrow with a big smile on her face. I wasn't expecting her to call, but I'm glad she did."

"Why?" I asked. Then, "Uhh..." as Yolanda's fingernails scratched my stomach lightly, the ice making my right nipple turn hard.

"That's why," Laurel said. "Because it's hot. It feels good to know what's happening to you, even if I'm not the one there doing it. I wish I was, of course..."

Yolanda's fingers had started circling my pussy, which was already wet. They slipped inside almost immediately, my sensitive sex constricting around them as she rubbed her chilled tongue against my breast.

"So, have you done all of your Christmas shopping?" said the voice on the phone.

"Uh, what? Yeah, yeah, I think so," I answered.

"Have I ever talked to you about my sister?"

"Uh, no, Laurel. Umm, maybe."

"I wondered if you had any idea what I could get her for Christmas."

"Uhh... Laurel..." I gasped. "It may have... esc... uh, escaped your notice, but... I'm not really thinking, umm, thinking very clearly right now?"

"I know," she said. "Isn't it lovely?"

"You're doing this... deliberately, uh, aren't you?"

"Doing what?" she asked, sweetly, then giggled.


"Ooh, what was that?"

"The ice cube," I managed. "On my stomach."

Yolanda had moved off me and was drawing patterns on my belly with the remainder of the ice. Wet trickles were sliding over my belly button, and she was guiding them lower. My sex tightened yet further, ever more sensitive to the feelings her fingers were giving me.

Leaving the cube to finish melting, she lowered her body again, and her lips and tongue fastened to my right breast, focusing on my hard, sensitive nipple, and then to my left.

Then she he sat up, withdrew her fingers, and I felt her reach for another ice cube. I squirmed as she ran it over my belly; it was much colder than the dribbles of water the old cube had left behind.

I felt her shifting position, moving down the bed.

"AWWW!" I cried out as Yolanda's icy tongue stroked my clit.

"What's going on?" came the distracting voice from the phone.

"I'm not... uhhh... not saying," I croaked. "Not... more talking. Oh, God, that's so good."

Yolanda's tongue slipped inside me, and worked around. It wasn't feel as cold as it had been, but I kept feeling small chills. I think she must have had the ice cube tucked in her cheek, and the cold water melting from it kept trickling down inside me.

The stimulation made my whole body squirm, and I twisted against my bonds. My butt was tense, and my back arched as she kept her face pressed tightly to me.

"Awwwhh... that's so good," I breathed again as she tongued my clit.

As much as the cold was making me tight and responsive, it seemed also to be keeping me from coming too quickly. The pressure was there - God, was it there - but it was building slowly, and Yolanda was artfully avoiding stimulating my clit too strongly, though I groaned with passion when she did slide her tongue around it.

I rocked my hips against her, and she returned the pressure with her chin against my pussy. My breathing had become tight, interspersed with moans. I don't recall paying any attention to the phone by that point, so if Laurel was still trying to distract me, it wasn't working.

Yolanda gripped my ass and slurped hungrily on my clit. I groaned as her chilled tongue drove me toward the point of change, where my body would be forced to yield to passion.

"Yolanda..." I gasped. "Ohhhh! I'm there! I'm there! Oh, God..."

My sex erupted, delicious spasms coursing through it. "Awwwh, Awwwwh..." I had no more control over my panting cries than I did over the pulsing in my sex. Her tongue still dominated my senses as I kept coming, and coming. I writhed against my bonds, my every emotion centered on Yolanda's mouth on my clit, Yolanda's chin pressed against my sex, Yolanda's fingers squeezing my ass.

I was still moaning softly when she released me. My clit tingled with warmth and pleasure, though the pulsing had slowed. My sex still twitched as she lay down against me, and I tasted myself on her lips.

"How was that?" Yolanda asked.

"Amazing," I breathed.

"Not you," she said, laughing softly. "I could tell how it was for you. How did we do, Laurel?"

"Sounded pretty good to me." Laurel seemed out of breath.

I felt Yolanda untying my blindfold. "I'll hang up, soon," she said.

"Oh, must you?" came her partner's unsteady voice.

"Yeah, you don't get to share her for the whole night," she said. "I'm going to do something first, though."

My stomach still burned with arousal as she kissed me, and I responded passionately. I could feel her sex pressed to mine, and I stroked my body against her, still feeling tendrils of my orgasm. She lay in place for a minute longer, then tore herself away from our kiss with obvious reluctance.