Open another bottle

I cross my fingers that Penelope will not learn about this. I pop the cork and let the bottle breathe while I wash the wine glasses. I pour a responsible amount, as to not make it obvious that I am trying to get her wasted.

When she comes back out, she has removed her outfit, and is now wearing casual clothing. A loose-fitting shirt and black leggings. It is a world away from her dress, but still stylish, still sexy. “I didn’t think to bring my pajamas," I said, handing her a glass. "I hope you don't mind that I opened the bottle here."

She apparently didn't mind, taking it. "The dress is feels so good—I didn’t want to, but I HAD to get those heels and bra off." Now that she mentioned it, when her loose shirt falls across her breast, an pencil eraser sized nub pokes forward. “The heels were killing me.”

"Oh? You hid it well."

"Women are good at ssuffering silently," she says with slur and an accusatory eyebrow raise. She brings the wine glass to her mouth a little too quickly, causing the red liquid to slosh. She reacts slowly, stepping back with her arms out to not get any on herself. A drop hits the floor.

“I’ve got it.” I grab a paper towel and clean it up right away. She looks appreciative of the quick action. Then she downs her glass. “So, what is the plan here?” I ask, gesturing to the loaded table.

“What’sss YOUR plan...here?” She shoots back. I don’t quite know what she means. Is she just being a sassy drunk.

“To have fun stuffing some bags.”

“Oh, I bet. How about some music then?” She syncs her phone to speakers and starts a playlist.

She sighs. “We grab empty bags here... sstick the sstuff them full here... then ssstick em over there...” she seems uncharacteristically unconcerned with the details. Probably too drunk.

We sit on opposite sides of the table and start to work, she is going rather slowly, moving her body to the music and singing along. When she gets up to use the bathroom, I add more wine to our glasses and resume working.

“What’ss sso funny?” Victoria asks from the hallway. I realize that I’ve been smiling to myself.

“Oh, I was thinking about how great dinner was... It’s too bad we didn’t think to take a photo while we were all dressed up. It would be a nice memento.”

“Sure! Ssomething for your fap bank.” She has an openly mischievous smile. That was awfully blunt. “That’s what guys call it, right?”

“That’s not what I meant, and it’s ‘spank bank’.”

She picks up her wine glass and laughs. “Uh-huh.” She takes a gulp. “You were walking around with a ssstiffy as soon as you ssaw me.” Is she flirting with me, or teasing me? I don’t trust her, and I’m feeling awkward the way she is bringing it up. “You REALLY liked my dresss, huh?” She says it like she has my number.

“Of course I liked it... You and that dress were made for each other. And if I did...’get a stiffy’, it was an honest reaction.” I look at the stack of bags we have to fill. There are hundreds of them, and we have only filled about thirty so far. This is going to be a long night. I get back to working. She watches me, swaying drunkenly. “How many bags do we have to fill in total?”

“Pfft...four hundred? Dunno...” She shrugs and starts filling a new bag clumsily. She gets three done before a new song kicks in. She gulps more wine, then starts dancing in the middle of kitchen, arms whipping around sloppily. “Hey!” She says aggressively. “You... you wanted to dance!” She grabs my collar and pulls me away from my partially filled bag. I stretch to get the item already in my hand to the bag. “You can stuff that bag later!” She laughs, pulling me into the living room. She almost trips on the rug, catching herself on the arm of the couch. She is so drunk that she will probably not remember things very clearly.

She throws her forearms onto my shoulders and cocks her hips side to side while bouncing. She isn’t in time with the music, so it is hard to coordinate our movements. I try to ignore the arhythmic clumsiness and focus on her. She rocks her head around, throwing her silky hair this way, then that, sometimes in my face. Her loose shirt jellyfishes open and closed around her with each bounce, sucking around her breasts that bounce on a different beat. I see flashes of her hard belly, but, infuriatingly, the shirt never floats higher than that. Her toned legs hop energetically, alternating between rotating in and out, landing on the balls of her feet and lifting like a ballerina. Of course she’s had dance lessons...and music lessons... Her mother must have pushed a lot on her as a kid to make her so flawless. Well, other that being a unpredictable bitch and a sloppy drunk.

She lets go of me and spins, not nearly as gracefully as she intended. She makes it halfway around before tipping. I grab her waist and pull her to me to keep both of us from falling. Her hands drop onto mine and she leans back against me, her ass against my erection. She is breathing hard and sweaty, and she is in my arms. I feel a growing urge to take bold action. It’s now or never. I lean in and kiss her neck under her ear. She moans in surprise, then her hand raises, pulling my head in tighter. I kiss more firmly and slide my hand up to her bare tit and squeeze. “Yesss..” she moans. I’m feeling dizzy with lust and the overstimulated buzzing builds in my head. I squeeze her tit harder and roll her nipple in my fingers, putting my other hand on her jaw, bending her neck to kiss her down to the crest of her collarbone. She turns her head back to me, latching her mouth onto mine, her tongue diving in. She turns her body into mine, never breaking the needy kiss. Her hand finds my manhood and massages it through my pants. Her fingers start moving frantically, finding the button and pulling down the zipper. Victoria grabs my naked cock and strokes it quickly. A deep shiver in my groin released precum into her delicate but firm hand. I clamp my hands on her tight ass, pulling her into me and driving my tongue back into her mouth. She moans into me.

She finally breaks the intense kiss, panting for breath. Her heavy lids lift slowly, her dark eyes burning with desire. She blinks rapidly, then looks confused, then backs away, tripping backward onto the couch. She looks around the room and back at me. “Who...? Wait—what are you doing?” She wipes her mouth.

“What do you mean? We were kissing.” She is really out of it. This will probably all be part of her black-out. “What are YOU doing?” I throw back at her. If she won’t remember this...I could get away with a lot right now...

“Damnit, no!” She growls and slaps herself. “GGGrrrrrr! No, no, no...” She runs her palms over her face, pulling her scalp back, and stretching her eyelids. “Shit!” She stands shakily, but with a stern posture. “I...am your boss. This is unnnprofesssional. Don’t even try to fuck me. I will fire you in the morning.” This is abrupt. And not a normal person’s way of declining sex.

“It seemed more like you were trying to fuck me.” She looks at my stiff meat pointing in roughly her direction. She is breathing hard and stares at it for a few seconds. Her jaw clenches so hard that I swear her teeth are going to crack.

“DON’T!” She shouts, pointing at me. I can’t understand what is going on in her head, but I imagine a pile of writhing snakes randomly biting in every direction. “Whatever it is you are trying to do to me...”

“You **** me to dance with you and things got heated, that’s all.” As far as you know at least. I stuff my full erection uncomfortably back into my pants. She stares into the kitchen trying to piece things back together, loosing her balance and putting a hand to the coushion.

“Don’t push your ssshit on me,” she says, drawing a sharp line between us. She is declaring anything that happens tonight that isn’t okay will automatically be my fault, not because evidence or reason, but by definition. I’ve seen her deflect blame like this at work before, but never had it pointed at me do directly. It feels like a cold water plunge. My anger ball flairs back up. I’m ready to bet she won’t remember anything, but if there is a sign that something untoward happened, she will absolutely blame me tomorrow. If she thinks we had sex, she probably will fire me. But words...words won’t leave evidence.

“What are you talking about?” I’m raising my voice more than I am used to. “I saw how eager you were to get my cock out. You were jacking it off like you couldn’t live without it.”

“Ssshut up!”

“Did you fire your other assistants after fucking them?” Her face gets red and she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. “Oh, fuck! You really did!” She looks pissed. “So it sounds like this is actually YOUR shit.” She is furious, lunging up at in an uncoordinated thrust of forearms. Her feet aren’t under her so pushing her back down isn’t hard. “HEY! I’M NOT GOING TO FUCK YOU. OKAY, SLUT? If you fire me anyway, then we know who that is on.” Her eyes are crazed and her chest is heaving, but she isn’t coming at me. I back away, and sit on the loveseat. Part of me feels so alive right now, thrilled to be shouting her down. Thrilled to channel righteous anger. But I also feel guilt. The irony is that I am guilty of more than she knows, but the basis of her accusations are completely rooted in her issues. We just sit there for a while as the music continues to play. I look back at her. Her color is back to normal and her breathing has settled. “Victoria,” I say gently. She looks at me, unable to lock her her eyes on me. She is going to be very sick tonight. “Let’s get you some water. You need to sleep.” I stand slowly and reach out to her. She looks wiped out. She is still angry but takes my hand and leans on me. “Which way to your room?”

“Over here.” She points. “Wait! The bagsss...”

“I’ll take care of it. You need to rest.” She looks at me l, but I can’t decipher what she is thinking. We enter to her bedroom. Her bed is tall and wide, with luxuriously thick pillows. I sweep the decorative pillows to the floor and pull back the covers while she sways on her feet. “Get in. I’ll bring you some water.” I leave, returning a minute later. She is leaning up on the pillows and headboard. She takes the water, guzzles it, then looks around for something. “What is it?”

“I need a coassster...it will ssstain.”

“Okay. I’ll find you a coaster.” I find one in the living room and put it on her nightstand. “Need anything else?”

“You liked my dresss a lot.” She says with a smirk, looking at it hanging on the other side of the room.

“I sure did.”

“You wanted to fuck me all night,” she smirks toward me, but not focusing well enough to get eye contact.

“Yes I did.”

“Good.” Her smugness is very irritating. She drinks more water. I leave the room, leaving the door open a crack.