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Daniel has hypnotized a woman to be a sexual superhero.
Once everyone had finished up their business we all gathered in the lobby on the couches and chairs and socialized. Sandy, the operations officer for the branch, brought out an enormous bowl of "punch" that she'd made in the break room, and one of the tellers brought in a couple trays of shooters made with gelatin that had been safely hidden in the refrigerator all day. I'd only worked with these people for a couple months at this point, but I had to say they really knew how to throw my kind of office party.
Not too long after closing, the spouses and significant others of several of my coworkers showed up and joined in the fun. Sure, having that many people in the branch after closing was a no-no according to company policy, but then getting drunk and puking in the recycling bin is frowned on as well I'm sure.
I looked over with what was my one remaining good eye at that point, and noticed my boss Debra motioning me over. She told me that there was a bunch of gifts in her office, and that I should go get the sack and pass them out.
What I found in her office was a large, red velvet bag filled with several small, but very nicely wrapped, presents. I threw the sack over my shoulder, and made my way back into the lobby doing my best imitation of Santa the whole way.
I handed out the presents to everyone with all the fanfare expected of an official office Santa, and each was a gag gift of one sort or another. I learned later that Debra used a portion of the funds the branch won each year in company-wide promotional competitions to buy the gifts, and she really went all out to get things that fit everyone's quirks.
After I'd handed out all the gifts, I opened mine. It was a pair of pantyhose with a space for a penis. When I opened them, all the ladies laughed. I did too. Debra remarked that "if I was going to fit in around there, I'd need a set of those that fit properly." It was really very funny.
As with most parties the drinking continued, and everyone began to break off into smaller groups to carry on conversations and such. I was really starting to buzz pretty hard when I decided one more drink wouldn't kill me and I headed for the punch bowl. On the way there I noticed flashing lights coming from the copy room.
When I walked in the room two of the tellers, Katie and Jen, were over by the copier. Katie was sitting on the copier, and Jen was making copies. It looked like she was copying Katie's ass.
"Hope you're not running low on toner," I said with a slur.
"Okay so far, " Jen replied with a devilish grin.
Jen was rather short but very nicely put together. She had long brown hair with lots of waves, and very pretty brown eyes. Nothing about her physically stood out in particular, but she was pretty and had a real knack for making you laugh. She was still very young, though, and had only recently turned twenty-one.
Katie, on the other hand, was a bombshell. She was in her late twenties, and had been around the block several times if you know what I mean. She had huge-we're talking one step below circus act--augmented breasts that screamed to the whole world that they were filled with saline. She had platinum blonde hair, and she frequently dressed at the limits of what would be acceptable for a place of business. She was the favorite teller of all the local male vendors who came in each day for change, and she knew it. Of all the tellers who'd been asked to wear an elf costume, Katie was by far the closest to being obscene in her's. She was just very much into that kind of attention.
As I walked over closer-more accurately stumbled-I noticed Katie wasn't wearing any bottoms. I looked more closely at the copies as they fed out, and copy after copy clearly showed the outline of her ass and pussy.
"Want me to autograph one for you?" Katie asked playfully.
"Sure!" I said. "Do you take custom orders?"
"Maybe," she replied as she spread her legs open for me to see her more plainly. "What do you have in mind?"
I couldn't help but stare at her mound and partially opened lips.