Holiday With June - Booking - Sex Stories

Holiday With June - Booking

I had been friends with June since we both started on the same day at the big firm. Sat at the same table during induction and remained friends despite not working in the same department. We met for coffee breaks, sometimes had lunch together, and went to the same leaving parties. Of course, I wanted to be more than friends; what right-minded man would not? June was a blond bombshell, 36C and in proportion all over—a 9.95 on the hottie scale.

Unfortunately, we both had partners or at least until last week. Mine left the previous year when she got fed up with me telling her how June was dressed, what June had said, and passing on one of June's jokes. June had a rich, selfish twat of a boyfriend. I knew it the first time I met him, but it took June a long time to work it herself. You might say she never worked it out because twat took a job in Chicago and didn't ask her to go with him. More fool him.

I was there to offer support, but all the time I just kept repeating to myself 'Breakup sex, breakup sex, breakup sex.' This was reinforced when I heard that Fred from Accounts was having a leaving party in the upstairs room of the local bar. This Friday might be the time to lay it on the table, get her some drinks and Shazam. So, on Friday morning, I wore a better-than-normal shirt and suit, shaved well, trimmed my hair the night before, and put on decent cologne. I even shined my shoes.

At the first coffee break, June delivered the hammer blow I was unprepared for. ...

... 'Hey, my old college roommate, Zena, has come into town unexpectedly. Please look after her in the bar downstairs for me until Fred gives his speech. Then she and I can go out and get drunk.' So I puckered up, told her it wasn't a problem, "Hey what are friends for," that type of rubbish, and prepared to be bored out of my skull. I left work an hour early and got a few beers ahead of the rest.

When she arrived, June grabbed my arm and ushered me downstairs. I'm not sure what I was prepared for, but it wasn't a cloned hottie, just as horny as June, but the redhead version. She was slightly thinner, had a smaller chest, and wore a dress that should not be allowed in a bar before midnight. I've seen girls in that sort of dress before, but usually surrounded by guys and never talking to someone like me. We grabbed a tall stool right at the far end of the bar.

I tucked it away in the corner, as the bar would go crazy soon. I got a beer and two-for-one cocktails and headed towards them; the girls grabbed one each, kissed each other rather more deeply than I was expecting, and then I was introduced. June then headed upstairs with her cocktail, leaving us to get on. Fortunately, those few early beers kicked in, and instead of drying up or gabbling incoherently, I made compelling small talk.

Zena and I had much in common apart from our friendship of June. We discussed films, food, music, and books and were soon lost in a lovely conversation spanning a few hours. Happy hour for ...