She's back! Give a warm, wet welcome to A N R Kist.
Before I get into the kinkier aspects of my Union Life I thought I’d take a step back and look at some of the near misses, the oh god no moments and the they did what scenarios.
Many years ago, when I first started work, there was this drop dead gorgeous Union Rep that worked at the other end of the floor to me. Not my usual type, he had blonde hair and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen and I thought he was some kind of Olympian God of Workers. Along comes Red Nose Day and I told someone I would donate £10 (a lot of money for me back in the day) if this vision would kiss me.
Now, to be fair I didn’t for one minute think word would spread of my vague excuse to get a snog and I certainly didn’t expect to be sat on a chair in the middle of the office, surrounded by colleagues whilst Ser Adonis the Magnificent approached. Yet there I was, absolutely mortified by my own bravado and recklessness and yet, starting to cream in my knickers. I sat, red faced with head bowed but he simply placed his hands on either cheek, lifted my head and stuck his mouth firmly on mine. I gasped in surprise and he guilefully took the opportunity to have quick bit of tongue action. Then he pulled away, smiled, winked and walked away. And from that day until now I’ve never been able to look him in the eye. Which is quite awkward as he’s friends with my husband.
As I’ve mentioned before, Conference is a strange time of trysts, one night stands and ongoing arrangements. Yet some people think that being at conference automatically lowers your standards and means you’ll shag anyone. This is most definitely not the case. I don’t care how graphic your description of trombone sex is or how softly you whisper in my ear that you’re a sexual animal, you’re pissed and I’m not pissed enough. Also Mr Older Gentleman, I have never promised to sleep with you, no never, and I don’t care how much you good naturedly pressure me I will not be sleeping with you this year and if you choose to interpret me sharing a room with another woman as me being in a relationship with her, then fine, as long as you leave me alone.
There was one conference that nearly ruined my perfect record. It was a complicated year and what I expected to be a dreadful occasion actually, thanks to a dear friend, turned into an absolute blast. I was only there for a few days and was rascally drunk for most of the non work bits (and jolly well hung over the rest). The last night there I had consumed some beverages and was busy singing and dancing at the ‘social’. My high heel ensconced feet were beginning to rebel and so I flopped onto a handy chaise for a rest. I realised that next to me was a lovely man from our sister branch. Tall, well built and in my drunken state jolly good for leaning against. So I did. He wrapped an arm round me and pulled me close. I felt safe and protected. I turned and looked up at him and he kissed me. Soft, gentle, tender lips on mine, enquiring darts of his tongue. At a dark time in my life I felt wanted, desired and I melted. He whispered “Do you want to go to bed?” and unable to find words I nodded. My dear friend chose this moment to come and rescue me, dragging me to our room before I could do something I’d regret. I’ve always felt guilty for not seeing it through but so very glad that I didn’t.
I have no excuse for the last entry. I was sober, clean and in full possession of my faculties. It was Blackpool, Conference week and side relationship was in full swing. A whole group of us were meeting after work at a local pub before going out to eat. Now, some of us (the women) thought that going back to the hotel, winding down, getting changed and then meeting everyone at around 6.30 was a good plan (it was). Others (the guys) just went straight to the pub and started downing pints. The point is, by the time I got there himself was in full swing and getting loud. Our first time delegate, who was in her 60’s, found herself standing behind himself. Thinking it was me, he reached behind her and grabbed her tits. The words “manky baps” are not ones you expect to hear from the mouth of a Union Rep, especially directed at an unsuspecting woman and definitely not when loud enough for the whole pub to hear. I decided that this was a good time to suggest finding food, partly because we were all hungry and partly to get himself out of the pub in one piece. We then began a two hour trek round Blackpool to find a restaurant that suited everyone’s needs. I just wanted food and wasn’t really fussed how it came. We finally found somewhere we all agreed on but it was so late we’d lost our appetites somewhat so we agreed to have something simple. The waiter came to take our order at which point himself decided to order two of everything and more beer. I sighed. We finally left at about 11.30 and I promised to get himself back to hotel safely so the others could continue their night out on the town. I hauled himself back to the hotel where he saw the sign asking people coming in late to respect other guests and keep noise to a minimum. He looked at me very seriously and started saying “Shhhh be quiet” in a VERY loud voice. All I wanted to do was get back to my room with him, and not for a shag. He however had other ideas and frankly he was good, very good at what he did so after feigning disinterest for a minute or two I succumbed. I believe at one point he bent me over the bath, fucking me, teasing my not manky baps and growling “take it”, which of course I did. We ended up back in bed where I started to give him a good seeing to with my mouth, something I’M very good at. After a while I realised that whilst his cock was still rock solid, he was, to be blunt, asleep. With a huff of displeasure at the perceived slight, I turned over and went to sleep myself. Imagine my surprise when himself woke me with a poke in the back and not from his finger. He grinned at me as I realised a) it was morning b) he was hung over and c) he was still as ramrod stiff as he was went he fell asleep.
It seemed a shame to waste it…..
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