The Office Party

As mentioned before, the Christmas diary has begun closing in and my opportunities for fun before my family incarceration were disappearing fast.

So, the chance of a night out with May was a genuine bolt of good fortune, given that I’m between SBs.

Loyal readers may recall that May, a regular SB from times past, was now based in the North, but that we had a fabulous evening the last time she was in London.

So, Thursday was looming, I’d told May I was free, but then realised that, er, I wasn’t, well, totally.

Thursday was the one night of the year I dread the most, the office party.

As a partner, there was no way I could not go, the senior partner gives a speech, telling us what a good/bad/spectacular (delete as appropriate) year we’ve had etc, etc.

I then have to watch the various younger members of staff get truly shitfaced, some disappear off to the loos to fuck, some to get some charlie in, then they head off, like a herd, to some fucking awful club.

So, if I was to get quality time with May, some tactical fibbing would be needed.

I had arranged to meet her at 9pm, we were going to have a fishy supper at my favourite Mayfair restaurant (well, it is Christmas 😉 ), I planned for us to then head straight for a room I’d booked at a place on Park Lane. I was determined that if this was my last adventure before Christmas, it was going to be memorable.

The party was being held at one of those ‘venues’ in the West End, as always the senior partner’s PA books it and she’s a young woman of very little sophistication.

There were over 100 of us crammed into a function room, the champagne was being effortlessly dispensed and the atmosphere was pretty relaxed, it seemed that most of London was having an office party judging by the streets full of people heading out from work.

After an hour or so, the senior partner did his 5 min oration, telling us how well we’d done and how well 2015 was shaping up. I then took my chance, I got his ear with a story about how one of my little angels was poorly and Mrs LSD was at her wit’s end, would he mind if I headed home? ‘Of course not, do give X my love’.

With that I was flying out the door and in a cab within moments, heading to dinner.

I arrived in the nick of time, a couple of minutes before May.

We had a truly amazing evening, oysters, the most amazing fish and nothing but champagne. Since the summer she’s been promoted and has started seeing someone, but he’s not interested in fulfilling her kink, so, hey, could I?

The dinner flew by and before too long we were in a gorgeous room overlooking Park Lane

I enjoyed delivering her a very sore arse and darling May was in heaven, as was I, remembering what a sublime blowjob giver she is.

A memorable night.

Happy Christmas one and all…

 

 

The Breakfast of Champions

The next morning was livened up by May deciding I wasn’t going anywhere until I’d fucked her again and not being up to arguing, I really did have to agree with her.

As the great James Hunt said, sex is indeed the Breakfast of Champions.

With our hangovers sated by a completely gratuitous fuck and half a packet of Nurofen, washed down by copious amounts of tea, we emerged blinking into the daylight.

May said that she would love to ask me if we could go back to the sugarbowl, but that as her next job was as a senior nurse manager at a hospital in Yorkshire, it might be a bit tricky.

I had to agree, so we settled on meeting up every month or so, when she came to London. I promised to put her up in a hotel, take her shopping and we’d just aim to have a bit of fun, which for the two of us together is never very difficult!

We parted with as the good friends and fuckbuddies we’d been before.

An hour later I was in a partners’ meeting, with an inane grin and a lingering, slight headache. I simply couldn’t get out of my head the image of her cowgirling me, shouting “I love your cock Daddy”…

Memory Lane

Got an email out of the blue today from May, a former Sugar date of mine, who’s been abroad nursing for nearly a year.

She’s back in London next week and wants to hook up for a date, some light on the horizon…

We used to get on well, both in and out of the bedroom, but I had just met an SB who was slightly better suited to me, so we parted on good terms and kept in touch.

She’s dropped some pretty clear hints that she’d like to pick up where we left off…which, given she is one the most exciting Submissives I’ve met, may be hard to refuse. The bar tab I used to collect after we’d have an average night on cocktails at the Blue Bar or Hakkasan lives in the memory.

Hoping Memory Lane can be a cool place to visit…