80s Party Food Ideas

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Darcie was looking forward to an uneventful Friday evening after a stressful week in the office. In a moment she would get up and make dinner but for the moment sitting on the couch was the most relaxing thing she had done all day. She'd have to get out of her office clothes - a tight black skirt and stockings and a tight fitting pullover - before too. And besides, the only one growing hungrier by the minute was she: Living alone definitely had it's perks. Today had been an especially long day her boss Mr. Hunt certainly hadn't made things easier. His constant sexist remarks and inappropriate touching was getting out of hand. She probably should have told him off when she started working, Darcie thought, but back then she didn't want to risk her new position and by now his behavior had been established as the norm. It had started out irksome enough - calling her "bird" touching her shoulders when she was sitting and he was standing behind her - but lately Mr. Hunt had become positively crude. He had started seeking her out in her office or the cafeteria and telling her about his failing marriage. At first Darcie had felt pity but soon she realized the he likely was the only reason for the incoming divorce: He minded his wife not putting out often enough, growing old and giving him too much lip. The last straw had been her attempt to find a job. Seriously, this guy's views on women came straight from the 50s. Darcie wondered, why had Mr. Hunt even bothered hiring her? He obviously didn't think women were appropriate it the workplace. Was it only to gawk at her? She didn't get to answer the question as in that moment the doorbell pulled her from her thoughts. Darcie was startled. Who would ring at this time of day? She got up from the couch, went over to the door and opened it. The door swung open an revealed the very person she had been looking forward to not seeing for the next two days so much: Mr. Hunt. He was leaning at a wall, eying the doorway. How did he find her home? What did he want? "Ahh, there she is, looking fine as ever. Hey bird, your boss is here." Darcie could see his face light up with a cocky grin, his eyes running over her body, taking in her form. And that name. That damned name. "Good evening Mr. Hunt Please, come in." Mr. Hunt's grin got even wider. "That was easier than I thought. You know what I like about you bird? You know how to talk to a man, not like that feminazi wife of mine." Darcie stepped aside and let him pass. She could practically feel him looking her up and down as she turned and closed the door. Why did she invite him in like that? Sure, she may have had to suffer him at work, but this was her home. She could have just told him to bugger off. Anyway, it was too late now. There Mr. Hunt was, standing in her hallway, still wearing his street shoes. "Please, Mr. Hunt, let's talk in the living room?" She maybe shouldn't even start to make him feel at home. After all, the less comfy he got the earlier he was likely to leave, Darcie hoped. Sure, she'd have to clean up after him but that was basically what she did at work anyway. "Sure know how to make a man feel at home, bird." answered Mr. Hunt and made a gesture towards the only other door. "Ladies first, lead the way." Darcie was well acquainted with this false display of chivalry. It was one he often pulled at the office as well. She knew, that Mr. Hunt just wanted to watch her backside and sure enough as she made her way past him she could see his gaze traveling downwards. A moment later they were standing in the living room. Right then... welcome, Mr. Hunt." He had come to her into her home, so Darcie figured Mr. Hunt should be the one taking the initiative. She wasn't going to make it any easier for him. "Nice to be here, bird. Was about time you invited me to your place." 'Invited' was hardly the right word, Darcie thought. Mr. Hunt did not seem to care much for her coldness however. He turned to get again, his gaze coming to rest, as it so often did, on her chest. "What were you doing before I came by?" "I was just going to get changed into something more casual." She had been looking forward to hear sweatpants since she got home. Darcie was after all still in her tight office clothes. They were not only quite constraining but also accentuated parts of her body Mr. Hunt was already spending too much time ogling. She bent down and took them from one of the cupboards. Too late she realized that had presented Mr. Hunt with an ideal view of her backside. "Nah bird, I like you the way you are right now. Brings out you best qualities. If you change, make it something more easy on the eye." Darcie thought about wearing sweats anyway. After all, Mr Hunt didn't get to tell her what to wear, especially when he just wanted to see more skin of her. But her impression was, that Mr. Hunt sometimes just needed to feel in charge before being prepared to let go. Or leave. And it wasn't like she didn't have other comfortable clothes she could wear, that were probably more to his tastes - her nightgown came to mind. She'd wear it later anyway. [Wear nightgown] "Sure, if it makes you happy." "That should indeed be your most important question. Now scoot bird, don't keep your boss waiting." Mr. Hunt failed or refused to acknowledge any sort of derision in her reply. Darcie went into her bedroom, her guest watching her hips as she left. Her thin cream knee-length nightgown was under her bed sheets where she had left it. It was a classic and traditional style of nightwear, simple and undecorated. Despite being otherwise unprovocative, it was rather low-cut and drew attention to her breasts. If this was, what Mr. Hunt wanted, fine, she'd wear it. Preparing to undress, Darcie paused. Should she lock the door? Since she lived alone and did not use it, she'd have to find the key first. She wasn't particularly keen on leaving her boss alone for too long. Hadn't he been looking around the flat since he came in? It was probably best she do this quickly, not least because Mr. Hunt was known to get cranky when people didn’t promptly do what he told them to. Was this what Darcie was doing, doing what he told her to? She decided not to dwell on it and removed her socks, pullover, skirt and top, leaving her only wearing lacy black panties and a DD-balcony bra. As soon as she unhooked it however she could hear steps and the door being opened. She immediately covered her chest, keeping the bra from falling off. Her bedroom door swung open, revealing Mr. Hunt. As soon as he saw his undressed subordinate his eyes started roaming over body, committing every detail to memory. He flashed a lecherous grin looking up and down Darcie’s shapely legs. “Well shit, this isn’t the toilet. I was going to say wrong door, but fuck, bird, those are some fine childbearing hips.” Darcie looked at him in shock. That pervert had seen her enter her bedroom! He wasn’t leaving either but continued taking in the view of the sides of her breasts being squished out by her shielding arms.

hallucinations, mirage, fantasm, phantoms