I grinned at you, whispering those words in your ear as the valet pulled off with our car. We had just arrived at your company Christmas party, being held at a luxury hotel downtown. Your company, one of the biggest brokerage firms on the East Coast, rented out the revolving restaurant on the top level. We entered the lobby of the hotel, and the bellman suggested we take the glass elevator up instead of the regular elevators in the center of the building. It was a beautiful, clear December evening, and the view of the city was magnificent as the elevator ascended to the restaurant on the fortieth floor. There were two other couples on the elevator with us on their way to the party. We spoke to them, and one of the men was from your department. The two of you discussed a client on the way up. I was standing behind you, and none of the others could see my hands. I lifted up the back of your dinner jacket and started feeling up your ass. You jumped a little at first, startled that I would even do something like that.
