Christmas night out takes a turn [MF]

I’m Dan. I’m late thirties, and over the past year I’ve lost weight, built a bit of muscle, and am pretty happy with my body – particularly my stomach, broad shoulders, and girthy, circumcised cock. This was my first Christmas single, in years – and my first Christmas where I felt like I was actually an attractive guy (I broke up with my girlfriend early 2022, and have hit the gym a lot since then).

Abby could easily be a supermodel. She’s early twenties, slender, and at the party, she was wearing a tight-fitting peach-coloured dress, that didn’t show a lot of flesh but clearly showed off her shape underneath. She has incredibly straight blonde hair down her back, and perfectly tanned skin, and she would fit in perfectly on the cover of a magazine.

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Based on various books and films – and pornos – my understanding is that at the office Christmas party, you’re meant to hook up with someone and get a blowjob. So, I figured that’s what I’d try to do…

(in all seriousness, I didn’t really think that was really going to happen, but the idea did kind of get stuck in the back of my mind, and I couldn’t shake it all evening).

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(the action starts at the xxx line, if you want to skip the background, but there’s a bit of an unexpected twist before that).

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The Christmas night out was really good – it’s been a tough year, and everyone was getting on really well. I kept coming back to Abby; I was getting on really well with her, and after the meal, we had a little dance, we would mingle with other people for a bit, then come back and start chatting again. Although I’m happy with my appearance, I was still astonished that she was paying attention to me, as she’s still well out of my league (and quite a bit younger).

Towards the end of the night, as people were filtering away, I went to rejoin that particular group of colleagues – and there were only two of them left, one of them Abby, and she was *absolutely wasted*. The night was immediately something else now – it was now on me and this other colleague (Susie) to get Abby home.

We made it as far as the street before Abby and Susie had a disagreement about something, Susie said, “Fuck this then”, and walked off without us. Thanks, Susie, that’s fucking brilliant.

Abby shares her flat with one or two other people – I didn’t really get a straight answer – so hoped there’d be someone to help me if I could at least get her home. I decided to get her into a taxi, and hoped she’d be alright – and thankfully, she was. She wasn’t sick, and I didn’t have to pay a fine.

So far, so good – I got her into her building, along the corridor to her flat (slowly), and knocked on the door rather than letting Abby unlock it herself (firstly, I wanted the help from her flatmate or flatmates, rather than handling this on my own. Secondly, if one of them saw us coming in – this was a *bad* look, given that Abby could barely stand upright. I kind of wanted to be *seen* to be getting help, so that they would know that I was helping, rather than taking advantage).

The door was answered by her flatmate; she was a little taller than me, with short black hair, and a red dress / white cardigan combo that I wasn’t really expecting from someone in their own flat.

“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t know what else to do.” Abby seemed even less steady on her feet, so her flatmate helped her from the other side, the two of us helping Abby in as best we could, but their hallway was just a little narrow for it to work smoothly.

Abby leaned against the wall, her flatmate said “You can probably go if you want” and Abby threw up on the floor. Her flatmate said “Aw, come on, man” and I said “Maybe get her to the bathroom”. The flatmate said “Yeah, thanks”, fairly sarcastically, but still took her in.

I was technically off the hook, but felt a bit bad for the flatmate – so I found the kitchen and some kitchen roll, and cleaned up the vomit as best I could. Abby and her flatmate were still in the bathroom, so I found a basin and some washing up liquid (soap would have been better, I think?Couldn’t see any, though), and cleaned the floor. I was getting close to finishing, when the door opened, and Abby’s flatmate emerged with her. Abby looked a bit washed out, and her flatmate paused to look at me in surprise and say “Thought you’d be gone by now” and helped Abby to her room.

I finished up, so went and sat in their living room, on a big leather sofa facing the TV, and Abby’s flatmate joined me and said “Thanks for cleaning that up. I need a drink, do you want one?” and I jumped at the chance. I *so* needed it!

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Abby’s flatmate was taller than me, short black hair – dyed, maybe, it was *really black* – and I noticed that she was a bit curvier than I had realised, either her cardigan had kind of hidden how large her breasts were, or – more likely – I hadn’t being paying attention. There was something of Mia Zottoli about her, I would say.

We talked for a bit – this isn’t the first time Abby’s got wasted, the flatmate had been on her own Christmas night out (hence the dress, she hadn’t been home for that long) – and as we talked, I kept finding that one of us had shuffled closer to the other. I wasn’t really feeling a spark between us, exactly, and she didn’t have that kind of twinkle in her eye to suggest that she was interested… but I *was* horny, and she *was* shuffling towards me, so after a while I leaned in to kiss her, and she met me with her lips – it wasn’t just a peck on the lips to start with, either, she led with her tongue, and we made out for a good 20 seconds or so before she broke it off. We repositioned a bit, and started kissing again. The kissing was… different. It’s like there wasn’t passion, but there was enjoyment, if that makes sense?

She straddled me, but her dress was a bit too tight so she pulled the dress up a bit, exposing more of her thighs. I took a nice, firm hold of them with both hands, but she laughed and smacked my hand so I moved them up to her sides. She leaned over and we started making out again, and I slid my hands up and down her sides, feeling her dress crinkle underneath my fingers. She pulled her cardigan off, without breaking her kiss, so I ran my hands up her sides, across her shoulders and the straps of her dress, then into her hair. Her breathing got much heavier, but she carried on kissing me, and I clenched my hand slightly to tug on her hair, just a little. She undid the top buttons on my shirt, and slid her hands underneath it, and let out an “Mmmm” sound, but we didn’t stop making out until I slid my hands down to the straps, slid a finger under each one, and gently pulled them off her shoulders.

She broke off the kiss, pushing herself back from me, so I could feel more of her weight in her hand on my chest, and she said “wait” – I watched her, while she thought things through, the front panel of her dress heaving as she breathed, then she said “Fuck it – it’s Christmas, right?” and hooked her thumbs into the top of her dress. She pulled it down past her chest, her tits bouncing out right in front of my eyeline. I grabbed them both and fondled them, letting the nipples slide between my fingers, then sucked and licked her right tit while I squeezed the left, then swapped. Above me, she gasped in pleasure, then returned to kissing me as she undid my shirt and exposed my chest and stomach. I grabbed her thighs again – she didn’t smack my hands away this time – and slid my hands up them, pushing her dress up, then leaned forward and grabbed her ass while she pushed her chest into my face again.

I squeezed and sucked and licked for a little, then I let go with my right hand and grabbed my jacket – then my wallet, then a condom – she stood up and pulled at my trousers, my cock springing out.

I pulled the condom on while she pulled her dress up, and her panties down; she straddled me again, holding the dress up and out the way, exposing her pussy, and I held my cock upright as she guided herself onto it. She gasped and I moaned as I entered her, then she started to ride me, slowly, using my shoulder for balance, gasping but not raising her voice, her eyes shut.

I watched her tits as she rode me slowly, her chest rising and falling, and behind her, I could see the reflection of her back on the TV screen as we fucked Both of us murmured things like “Yeah, that’s it” and “Oh, that’s good”, and I enjoyed the feeling of her pussy sliding up and down my shaft for a while.
When she paused to catch her breath, I took the chance to lean forward, then stand up, lifting her into the air; she whispered “Oh shit!” when I was upright, and she wrapped her legs around me. I reached past them, and pushed my trousers down further, then turned around and kneeled on the ground, putting Abby’s flatmate on the sofa facing me. I pulled my trousers off completely, then threw my shirt away, and *buried* my face between her legs, holding her dress tight in one hand and sliding my hand across her stomach, groping her tits, sometimes grabbing a big juicy thigh, all while I licked and sucked around her pussy and her clit.

She must have been close before I started, because it didn’t take long for her gasps to become longer and heavier and for her to shudder and her pussy get wetter on my tongue.

I stood up, and pulled her dress down her legs and completely off; she scrambled back up the couch while I took up a missionary position and entered her again. I started pumping her, while she held onto my shoulders, but she changed position and tried to hold on to one of the cushions, but pulled it away from the sofa by accident. “Fuck,” she whispered, “oh fuck”, and started to buck her hips while I pumped her, and I changing position slightly so that I could squeeze one of her wobbly tits.

As I sped up, I changed position again so I could go deeper and I kept thrusting into her and was getting closer and watched her tits bounce and heard her gasp and moan and I was going to cum so I looked down and said “Where?” but she leaned her head back and clenched my shoulder and shuddered and said “Ahhhnnnn” so I grunted and filled the condom with my cum as I pumped her, then I slowed down and collapsed onto her. We were both sweating, and after a while, when we moved, there were damp streaks on the couch – at least some of it was sweat, but… some of it could have been from her cumming.

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I would have been happy to stay, and help clean up (and maybe get some more action in the morning), but she wasn’t really interested – which is fine. I left – not only did I not get her name, I realised on the way home that I never did get that Christmas blowjob, either!

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/10aqzls/christmas_night_out_takes_a_turn_mf