9 to 5 Pt. 04 - Sex Stories

9 to 5 Pt. 04

... Stacy commented.

I laughed, "I can vouch for that personally."

The next few days flew by, and I pretended to get to know the systems. I had run into most of the people I used to work with, and none of them clocked me as Bryan. Greg was still trying his luck to get into my knickers, but he was in a losing battle.

I had been welcomed into the office sisterhood and now took my lunches with Karen, Tara, and Sam, the new girl. I was starting to get into my role as a woman, and sometimes I forgot that I was a man in disguise.

Stacy mocked me for reading gossip magazines like OK and Hello. I just told her, "I need to research this shit so I can hold my own when gossiping with the girls."

But part of me was really enjoying the comradery of the sisterhood, as they called themselves. It helped break up the constant unwanted male attention.

That Friday night, the girls invited me out on the town with them, and I accepted. Stacy told me to be careful as I finished getting dolled up in my new emerald green, off-the-shoulder cocktail dress. I had to admit, I looked damn hot in a frock. I French plaited my hair (YouTube is a crossdressors invaluable resource for tutorials). I completed my ensemble with a pair of 4-inch black fuck me stilettos and a sequined clutch bag for my phone and money.

I took the tube over to Camden and met the girls in the bar next to the lock.

"Shit Brenda, you scrub up well." Karen complimented me.

I gave the group a twirl and said, ...

... "Thanks, ladies."

They had already purchased a bottle of prosecco, and Sam thrust a glass into my hand. I felt at ease with the girls, an ease I never felt with a group of lads. That was mostly a dick-swinging competition, and though I freely admit that I participated in the competition at the time, I am now more than happy to shoot the shit with these girls.

I had a minor panic when Karen teased Tara about Bryan, "Remember that guy Bryan you used to shag? Poor fucker got shit canned. Those cunts upstairs royally screwed him over."

"Yeah, poor bastard," Tara mused. "He had a lovely cock, and he knew what he was doing with it. I wonder what happened to him."

I thought this was a ruse to out me, but after a couple of long seconds, I relaxed when the subject was changed to some other former colleagues who lost their jobs in the wake of the scandal.

The night progressed, and we had moved onto a club, where we started dancing between shots and prosecco. Sam and Karen drew the attention of a couple of guys, and they were clearly receptive to their attention.

Tara and I gave them space but kept on boogying the night away. At first, I did not notice his approach, but soon a guy was dancing with me. A combination of the large amounts of alcohol and the buzz I was on for the fab night, I was actually dancing back to him.

After a couple of songs, he was getting bolder, so he slipped his hand on my hip and pulled me towards him. Even in my heels, I was still shorter than ...