Quietus interruptus
I pulled at one of our Christmas parties a good few years ago. The party was on-site, there was a bar and dance floor in the basement restaurant, club on the ground floor, staff rooms & offices upstairs.

She was new and certainly up for it. We sneaked off into the upstairs staff room where I locked the door behind us. We were disturbed by the night watchman within 30 secs ('It's alright, Charlie, we just want a bit of peace and quiet...'), who came in through the door from the manager's office. He grumbled a bit, then disappeared off to his festering cubby hole in the attic.

We got down to business and were pretty much naked and writhing on the floor when I heard a noise behind me, followed by a non-passionate groan from my co-coitee. I looked over my shoulder to see one of my colleagues (another new boy, looked like Clark Kent on a bad skin day) watching us from a vantage point next to the tea facilities. Fuck knows how long he'd been there.

Me: 'What are you doing? Fuck off, will you?'

Him: 'I'm having a glass of milk.' (And he was. There was a milk dispenser and he was drinking a glass of the white stuff.)

Me: 'FUCK OFF, WILL YOU?'

He was determined not to - I think he just wanted to see her naked. I was determined to preserve whatever shreds of modesty we could cling to by not moving an inch (apart from shrinkage). But he finally fucked off and we returned to our carnal preoccupations.

She said: 'I hope he doesn't tell anyone else...'

At which point I realised that Charlie the night-man had exited through the door I'd previously locked, the door that Clark Kent had used, which
I'd neglected to lock after he left... All this coupled with an emerging thunderous roar from the floor below told me that he most certainly had told people. Lots of people. I locked the door a hair's breadth before the pounding of drunken Mancunians threatened to break it down.

Clark Kent hadn't actually told people and waited for the word to get round, he'd simply cut out the middle man and told the DJ, who of course told everyone all at once.

It didn't happen that night - we just got dressed and rejoined the party. Lots of ribbing but no bone. Clark Kent suffered for it, though, in the subsequent months - I made sure of that.

She, on the other hand, got a new job shortly afterwards - in Beirut of all places. She obviously preferred a quieter life.
(zebideedoodah likes florence but prefers venice, Mon 5 Jan 2015, 14:08, 6 replies)

Pathetic

(wrigglesworth, Mon 5 Jan 2015, 15:30, closed)

It's a good story
but the nerds around here get very upset if you talk about having sex.

It's best to just agree, nobody anywhere has ever done it, ever. Let them get back to the Lego sets they got for Christmas.
(username failed moderation, Mon 5 Jan 2015, 16:17, closed)

Or Playdoh tunnels, coated in olive oil...

(zebideedoodah likes florence but prefers venice, Mon 5 Jan 2015, 16:32, closed)

Hey!
Good idea that!
(immadme, Mon 5 Jan 2015, 23:27, closed)

Got it from Blue Peter Uncut.

(zebideedoodah likes florence but prefers venice, Tue 6 Jan 2015, 1:32, closed)

It's OK, the story is about him not having sex, so it's all good.
How did you know I got Lego for Christmas?
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Tue 6 Jan 2015, 10:29, closed)