As I walked Jake back to Mr Armstrong’s office, he asked, “These picnics that the boss has, are we expected to bring someone?”
“No, there’s singles, unmarried couples and married both with and without kids. That said, kids aren’t invited to the Christmas do, but it’s not a picnic either. But no, everyone’s welcome.”
“What goes on at the Christmas one that kids can’t go?”
“It’s your typical office party, drinking, laughing and joking, a little bit of shaking of the butt. It can get a bit rowdy at times.
“There’s similar activities at the summer picnic, but it is very much family focussed with events and rides for the kids too.”
“Oh right, Christmas party as opposed to Summer picnic.” He shook his head a little. “A bit of information overload,” he finished with a smile.
I shook hands with Jake at Mr Armstrong’s door and wished him luck with a slap on the back. The look on his face had me chuckling on the walk back to my office.
~~~~~
The rest of that first weekend at Cambridge was fun. We went out to eat in the evening followed by a club and dancing. On Saturday we got together with her friends and they were all very welcoming, though I did notice some peculiar looks from a few. Nicola told me that a few of them had asked her on dates and she had been on a few, but only after ensuring they understood that it would be purely platonic. There was also sex, plenty of sex; in the room, by the river Cam, even out the back of a club on Saturday. Nicola was enthusiastic in everything we did before her last prom, but since our first time together she had become ravenous.
I did ask Nicola about her ‘I’ve only had my fingers and a couple of other things since I got here’ comment from the first night.
“Well a girl’s got to keep herself busy,” she replied with a smile. As I opened my mouth to ask further, she put a finger on my lips and said, “And she’s got to have some mystery about her too. Just don’t go licking my hairbrush…” She smirked, yelped in mock fear and ran off down the street.
All too soon it was over and I was back at the White Hart. I went up to visit again and had another long weekend. It followed much the same pattern; time together, time with her friends, time joined at the hip and finally the long lonely drive back to Faringdon in Oxfordshire.
It was not long until the term was over and Nicola was due to be home, but unfortunately, I was working so could not go with her parents to collect her. She was waiting for me when I finished work and after a little earache about my smell, we went back to my parents' house where she helped wash me down. We were only told to keep it down once. My parents had both said she was welcome to stay over any time, what I did not expect was Mum to put her head into my room and offer to make us breakfast the next day. I dropped Nicola off at home on my way to the hotel and this became the pattern until Christmas.
The hotel was closed on Christmas Day after lunch until the day after Boxing Day, but I had two further days. On the night of the twenty-seventh Mr Armstrong was holding the office Christmas party. He booked out the Abingdon hotel every year for the event, including rooms for all the staff. When I finished on Christmas Day, Nicola was waiting and we spent the rest of the day at my parents' house and she spent the night. After breakfast, we went to visit her parents and had another round of food and gift exchanges. When her parents were out of the room, she leant over and whispered in my ear.
“I have one more present for you.”
“Oh?” I looked at her expectantly.
“Uh, uh. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” she said with a laugh.
We had agreed that the next day would be spent with our own families and I would pick her up in the evening ready for the office party. I pulled up at just after six and walked up the path to her front door. Before I could knock her smiling mother opened the door.
“Come in,” she said, grinning.
I noticed Nicola's overnight bag at the bottom of the stairs and then heard a cough. When I looked up, I died and went to heaven. She was standing at the top of the stairs dressed and ready to go. It was a dress I had not seen before. It was white and looked like it was either satin or silk, about halfway down her calves on one side and what I learned was called a flouncing slit up to just above her knee on the other. She was showing a little cleavage but less than on her prom night and there were a couple of thin straps over her shoulders. Her hair was over her shoulders and as she walked down the stairs, I could see that she only had a little bit of make-up on. Even with four-inch heels on, she was more than half a foot shorter than me. It did not help that, when she stepped up to kiss me, I felt like I was another foot taller. I was just so happy that the universe had given us a reason to talk more.
We walked into the hotel arm in arm and were quickly checked in. The first stop was our room to drop off bags and overcoats and then it was down to the bar. When we entered, heads turned; wherever Nicola went they did and it always made me feel great knowing that she was with me. Mr Armstrong greeted us, shaking my hand and kissing Nicola on the cheek; his wife kissed us both on the cheeks. Although they were my work colleagues it seemed that Nicola was the one that got all the attention in the conversations. This was fine with me as I enjoyed seeing her not being left out and had always been so proud of how she was around people, ever since my first prom with a shy teenager.
When we were seated for dinner, we were with three other couples, one who worked in finance and two from marketing and their partners, all juniors but still a few years older than me. After coffee was served, the music started and Nicola and I were among the first out dancing. As the night progressed, we danced with the other couples at the table and Mr Armstrong and his wife came around and danced with us too. Later people from other tables came on the prowl and asked if they could dance with people from ours. Nicola accepted some and turned down others. The times when she danced and I was sitting at the table, I could not take my eyes off of her and I could see what everyone else did.
Watching this beautiful red-headed woman, twirling around the dance floor, with effortless grace and a look of sheer joy on her face filled my heart to overflowing. I do not know if there is a word for it, but I got happiness from knowing that I could make her happy. It amused me as the evening wore on, those dancing with her slowly got more handsy. Mainly it was those that were single, but the occasional person with a partner would let their hand slip. What was even more amusing was when those partners witnessed it too and I could see the tongue-lashing when they got back.
At first, hands would be on hips or holding hands, then they would make some move, like a twist, that gave them an excuse to move closer or break their grip and move their hands. Little by little, hands would move, to hips, around the back, to the top of her bum and then a fraction of a second on one cheek or the other. Then Nicola would reach behind and lift the hand to her waist again. I did catch one person 'accidentality' brushing their hand over the side of Nicola's boob as she spun; that dance ended abruptly. It was interesting to see a couple of women cut in when she was out on the floor, both of whom got a little touchy and one I knew was happily married.
We danced a lot, far closer and far more hands-on than anyone else. Nicola loved the film, Dirty Dancing and we had practised what we saw on the screen many times over the years. We did enjoy each other and even if the room had been empty, we would have immersed ourselves and enjoyed it. Having an audience and knowing that all the men and women that had danced with her wanted to switch places with me, only heightened the feeling.
“Mmm, someone’s happy,” Nicola giggled as she ground back against me.
“Of course, who wouldn’t be in my place?” I ran my hands up her front, only feinting to the sides as my thumbs brushed the bottom of her boobs.
She spun in my arms and pulled herself close, with her arms around my neck, making me lean over a touch.
“Does it get you all hot and bothered seeing all these people trying to grope me?”
“Hmm, seeing you happy and having fun is great,” I started.
“Good answer.”
I put my finger on her lips, “Seeing all their attempts is funny, especially when their other halves bollock them. Best of all, knowing that after all those doomed attempts it will be us walking out of the room and us reaping the rewards of a night of flirty fun.”
“Ohh, better answer!” she laughed. “But… you haven’t answered me,” her hand snaked down my front and pushed between us. She squeezed my cock as she asked again, “Does it get you hot?”
“Seeing my sexy girlfriend gets me hot, I got hot seeing you at the top of the stairs. Thinking of the fun we have had, gets me hot. Imagining what we might get up to gets me hot. When you're dancing, you have a look of such joy and watching people try it on and you play them like a fiddle, it's more than hot. I'm proud to call you my girlfriend, I'm proud you are so confident when you get into your stride."
Nicola looked up and raised an eyebrow, which made me chuckle.
“Yes, it does make me hot. But it's not just some knobs trying to grope on you, it's everything around it all. I mean if someone tried it on in a pub or walking down the street, I'd drop 'em like a sack of spuds. If I thought one of the knobs tonight would not back off when you demanded or that you couldn't deal with them, I'd have been next to you in a second. So, no matter what else there is, I have to watch you for that reason."
This got me a tight squeeze, “The best answer,” she smiled as she said it and then rested her head on my chest and the music switched pace for the last few tracks.
As the last song came to an end, Nicola pulled down slightly, letting me know that she wanted a kiss and I was happy to oblige. The song ended and the lights in the hall went up and as we broke our kiss, I looked around and other couples were doing something similar. We went back to our table to get my jacket and said goodnight to our fellow diners. There were a number of other couples and singles that said goodnight to us on our way to the exit. When I say us, I swear it was an excuse for a kiss on the cheek with Nicola more than to shake my hand or wish us a happy Christmas or New Year. At the door Mr and Mrs Armstrong were waiting and saying goodnight to everyone, we were no exception and I made sure to thank him for the event.
We walked along the corridor hand in hand, my jacket over Nicola's shoulders, even though it was not cold. She was leaning into me and I heard her say, “I still have one more present.”
“You said,” I replied.
“I’ll give it to you in our room,” she giggled.
We had both had a few drinks and I found her giggle funny, which made me start. Then Nicola tried to shush me which started us both giggling together. The rest of the walk to the room was interspersed with giggles and shushing. When we got into our room, it seemed as if Nicola suddenly sobered up and the change grabbed my attention.
“Hot chocolate?” I asked.
“Please.”
I wasn’t going to push anything straight away, so set about making us some drinks. While I waited for the kettle to boil, I found some easy listening music on the radio and let that play quietly. When the drinks were done, I put Nicola’s on the bedside table and sat on the edge of the bed with mine. Nicola took a sip and then a deep breath and got up and retrieved something from her bag. She seemed to have sobered up very quickly, gone was the giggly girl from the corridor, this was Nicola in full serious mode. It was a small package wrapped in Christmas paper which she handed to me.
