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After cocktail hour, we had an amazing dinner that consisted of three courses. We started off with clam chowder and a side salad, with some amazing dressing. I wasn’t sure if it was ginger or something else. But it was surprisingly one of the best side salads I’d ever tasted. I’m not typically a salad person, but I loved this.
Next, we had baked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and the most excellent dinner rolls smothered with savory butter. The food
was excellent and it practically melted in your mouth. The music had changed from dance music to something more contemporary with a lower volume, and I found that having it playing while I ate and enjoyed great conversation with some of Ricky’s coworkers was very relaxing.
Lastly, we enjoyed some fantastic peach cobbler a la mode for dessert. And of course several glasses of wine were enjoyed by both myself and Ricky. I couldn’t remember a time when I’d had so much fun and I was reminded of one of the downsides of being an artist, or even being a nanny-- I never had any employee functions that I could attend. It was a lonely existence and one that I particularly enjoyed, but sometimes I thought about how nice it would be to be a part of a team at work and to create a bit of a social life that way. But for now, I would have to accept being in the extended part of Ricky’s little work family.
Besides, I had him where it really mattered.
After the dinner portion of the evening, they cranked the music back up and switched it to club music as the DJ kicked things into high gear. It was time for the dance party. By then most of us were too intoxicated to care that we were horrible dancers, including myself.
I grabbed Ricky’s hand and dragged him towards the dance floor. “Come on. Let’s show them how it’s done.”
Ricky shrugged and followed me out there. “You know that I’m the worst dancer ever, right?” Ricky asked.
“So am I,” I replied. “It doesn’t matter.”
I loved watching Ricky shake his ass to the music. Despite claiming to be an awful dancer, he was actually really good and had rhythm for days. Or maybe I was a bit biased because I was so damn in love with him. And he looked so good doing anything, especially shaking his hips to the music.
The song was fast, but we danced together sensuously, our bodies grooving to the salsa inspired pop song. Ricky’s hands slid across my body moving up and down my back gracefully. I was getting so turned on by this. I barely noticed the other couples watching us work our magic on that dance floor. Many of Ricky’s coworkers were watching us dance from the confines of their cozy chairs either too drunk, or just too nervous to bother to compete with us. We were surprisingly good together. This was the first time we had ever fast danced with each other. Our instincts were very in synch, each of us feeding off the other as we moved our bodies sensuously to the music. I wasn’t sure if what we were doing was altogether professional (this was a company party after all), but it felt good in the moment and from what I could see no one was complaining.
Besides, I was shocked when I saw what some of the female firefighters were wearing. They really did look like they were single and on the prowl in one of the trendiest nightclubs of Chicago, instead of at the Grand Point Banquet Center surrounded by their superiors and coworkers. Maybe this night was kind of an official hookup night for anyone who had been thinking about getting together for a while but had never made that move.
As the song came to an end, I leaned against Ricky and he bent down and kissed me hard on the mouth. It felt like I was seeing exploding stars in my mind and I was too distracted by the beauty of it to think about anything else.
“You have some moves,” Ricky said.
“Oh, you aren’t so bad yourself,” I replied. “Where did you learn to dance that way?”
Ricky laughed. “I spent way too much time in clubs during my early twenties. I guess I picked up some things.”
On the ride home in the Uber after the banquet, Ricky and I got cozy in the backseat. I could still hear the sweet dance music erupting loudly in my head and my body wanted to rock to it. This feeling expressed itself in some head bobbing and finger snapping. Yes, I was feeling tipsy.
“Wow, I guess you really enjoyed yourself,” Ricky said.
“I did. I thought everyone was going to give us a standing ovation after that dance.”
“They should have. You were superb. You were so good that you made me look good.”
“That is never hard to do,” I said.
Ricky wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close to him. I wished that we were in our own car. We were getting worked up and I for one was horny as could be. Ricky looked so sexy in his suit that he would make any woman’s eyes pop out. This combined with the alcohol and the sensual dancing we’d just done, and I was ready to peel myself out of this dress and get it on with him. I was so wet. I had to hold myself back from reaching under the dress and just starting to finger myself.
The way I was looking at Ricky and the way he was looking back at me told me he had the same thing on his mind. The trip back to his place could not have been short enough. We needed to get home.
I noticed then that Ricky was typing a message on his phone. When he was finished he smiled at me and my phone vibrated. I checked it out. He’d sent me a message. “You are going to get fucked so hard when we get home.”
I smiled and texted back, “Really? I want details…”
Ricky typed into his phone. “First, I’ll start with taking off that dress and your panties.”
I smiled. This was interesting. Making sure the Uber driver wasn’t watching us, I quickly reached under my dress and pulled my underwear down my legs until they were slipping off over my shoes. I showed them to Ricky and dropped them on the floor. His eyes went wide as he tried to contain his grin. I typed out a text message. “What underwear?”
Ricky shook his head and stared at me in wonder. I loved it when I shocked him. He was so damn delicious looking, especially when he wanted me so badly.
Ricky texted. “You’re bad. I like that. I’m going to eat you out like there is no tomorrow.”
I could definitely get down with that. I texted him back. “I’m going to suck you dry and then I’m going to ride your brains out. You won’t walk for a week.”
