My Secret Santa's Secret Baby

by Jamie Knight

  When she seemed like she was ready, I slid in to half way, Skye taking my cock with a moan as long as my thrust. One that stopped at the same time as I paused to give her pussy a chance to adjust. It really was impressive how fast she could get used to taking my massive cock her adorable little pussy.

  Everything set, I took her by the hips and started to move. Pumping my massive cock inside her, bringing up monads and goosebumps with each trusty. Her pussy grabbing onto me, so I couldn’t pull out, as though I had any such idea in my head. I had no intention of pulling out until we had both cum at least twice. Even if the first was coming quickly around the corner.

  It was beautiful. Skye raising her head as far as she could with me holding her ponytail, letting out hymns to Venus as the quivers of orgasm overtook her. All while I was filling her up with a massive load. Warming her up from the core.

  Deciding I wanted to see her eyes, a natural human drive if there ever was one, I undid the straps one by one, keeping her still with a hand on the back of her neck. When she was free, I scooped her up into my arms and turned he over, laying her out on her back. Refastening the restraints, I sucked her nipples until they were hard. Standing up like pencil erasers. When she was ready, I applied a pair of padded nipple clamps, relishing her moan as I did so. Kissing her tenderly, I stroked her pussy. Both to take the edge off the pain, and to get her ready for what was going to happen next.

  Skye moaned beautifully, her sweet pussy vibrating against my two fingers, three knuckles deep inside her. She sucked them clean like a good girl. When she was ready, I took up the position between her open, restrained legs.

  Tenderly caressing both hands the length of her luscious body, I lowly mounted her. Bringing us roughly face to face despite the height difference, the head of my cock brushing up against her pussy.

  Careful not to put stress on the nipple clamps, as when set up right, they didn’t really hurt unless there was pressure applied. Particularly in the case of a pull, no matter how gentle.

  With all do care, I lied inside her, inch by inch, careful to give her time to adjust. It didn’t take long, Skye wonderfully adaptable, but some time was needed, and I was more than happy to give it. Mostly feeling blessed just to be with her.

  I savored it all. Every squeak and moan I gently fucked her, Skye’s sweet tenderness wrapped tightly around my cock. Throbbing gently inside her like a second heartbeat.

  Gradually, I increased in intensity. Going from short, smooth, gentle thrusts to faster harder pumps, working up to a steady moderate rhythm. It was impressive how much my darling could take, provided she was eased into it. Upping the ante even more, I worked up to the point I was pounding her so hard the table she was restrained to started to shake beneath us. It was well constructed so there was no reason to worry.

  Skye’s elated, banshee screams were like music to my ears. It struck me, not for the first time, how she was sweet and shy around other people but a sweet little kink kitten with me. Taking anything I could give out, not only handling it but relishing it. Her orgasmic expression reminding me of when the Pre-Raphaelites would depict people witnessing the light of the divine.

  The tremble seemed to start from the very core of her. Like an internal earthquake, our bodies so close I could feel every shiver and shake as though they were mine. Releasing a second torrent of cum deep inside her, I gently eased out, stroking her pussy with my fingers as she slowly recovered.

  Back in reality I came into a rag I had ready after the mug incident. I tended to only make the same mistake once. Recovering my equilibrium, I reviewed my list, as was my habit, and couldn’t find a single revision.

  Chapter Sixteen - Skye

  I couldn’t quite move properly. Not at first anyway. My nerves had recovered from the previous night’s activities but my muscles hadn’t. Forcing myself to get up off the couch, I gathered the scattered clothes and went up the stairs to my room. Dumping the stuff in the laundry pile I looked for something to wear.

  Getting my bra on, I decided not wear panties. The decision was partly practical. I couldn’t imagine having anything close to me down there. Though it was also for experience. I’d never really gone ‘commando’ before and was curious as to what it felt like. Not dumb enough to go walking through a winter wonderland with my nether regions unprotected, I wigged into some comfy yoga pants before pulling a woolen skirt up over it and putting on my socks and a sweater. I didn’t look particularly fashionable but I would be warm, which was much more important in New York in December.

  Doing up my Nordic hiking boots, I cocooned myself into my Russian style overcoat and set out into the polar vortex in search of the bus stop, feeling a lot like Robert Falcon Scott.

  Even on such a dread day, the bridge looked beautiful. Even with the stalagmite like icicles hanging from it, ready to perforate any boat that happened to pass at the wrong time.

  I’d really thought I’d made it. The bad news hitting as bad news so often did, when I least suspected it. Just as I was stepping down off the bus into a passing ice flow. I’d been so caught up with Simon and discovering previously unexplored dimensions of my sexuality I’d neglected to get a present for my Secret Santa recipient. Determined to fit in with the office culture I set off in search of something. Finding a local drug store, looking until I found a blank greeting card at thrice the price of the highest grade Hallmark back home.

  The expensive bit of cardboard tucked safely in my pocket, along with its included envelope I trudged to the café. Fueled but a small hot chocolate with whipped cream, I got out my best pen, still nowhere near the beautiful pieces Simon used, I composed a poem. Playing it safe, I stuck to inoffensive and mostly generic winter and wilderness imagery, rendered with poetic flourish. Even with the slight set back I managed to make across the street to the office with ten minutes to spare. Sam had the book ready for me to sign as I got to the security desk. I nodded and he winked. It was good to have allies.

  I got past Inga without a peep and set about my mission to get the poetical card on my target’s desk without him noticing. I was still pretty so the attendance at the farm barely passed a smattering. Mostly keeners who were also there as a stop gap. The permanent employees more on-the-dot types outside of Inga. I was beginning to wonder if she ever actually left her desk. I’d never actually seen her legs. Could she have been an urban mermaid of some kind?

  I shook the silly thought out of my mind and set about sneaking my way to the cubicle without anyone really noticing. My poetic stylings safely on the desk of my intended audience, I went to my own cubicle to see what Simon had in store for me.

  Shock held me paralyzed. There was nothing. At lest not what wasn’t supposed to be there. The space in front of the computer where the first three gifts had been empty as the feeling in my stomach.

  Explanations spun in my head. The most logical if upsetting, was that he regretted what we had done. To be fair there was an age gap, and he was in a position of power. Thought the gap wasn’t that big, I was old enough to make my own decisions and everything we’d done had been complete consensual. Simon going a long way to build my trust in him. Despite the short time we had known each other I trusted him completely, knowing he would never harm me.

  Just as I was trying to think of how I was going to live without him if Simon really was gone from my life when another notion hit me. What if he hadn’t come into the office at all. This potentiality was more than enough to drive me to get the current book finish and the analysis is typed up.

  Lunch rolled around, at about the time I’d finished the new manuscript. I had never typed an analysis so fast. With about forty minutes to spare on my lunch break, any semblance of appetite long ago leaving me, I went to Simon’s office and knocked on the door. Silence.

  I waited a while, shifting a bit from foot to foot. Trying the knock again, I was faced with the same stony silence. The office was in such a position that Simon was able to come and go without anyone in the
cubicle farm noticing. This gave me just a little of hope. Hope that he hadn’t even come into work that day, rather than he was snubbing me. It was just possible I was making something out of nothing.

  Feeling much more relieved, I went back to my cubicle to surf the net for the rest of my lunch break, ready to keep going until Simon came in. Handing in the analysis was my last job of the day of course. I gave a thought to emailing it to him. At least then there would be a record of me finishing it. The only problems with that plan was I wouldn’t be able to see him. As well as the fact that there would be a record of it, and strictly speaking I shouldn’t have been given more work. It shouldn’t matter too much, Simon having broken the stupid rules before but it could also show favoritism on his part because he only gave me more work. In our precarious position any kind of scrutiny wouldn’t be good.

  Like Beckett’s Godot, Simon never came. I waited right up until Ingra was getting ready to look up for the night. At least I knew, almost for sure, that Simon had never showed up at all, rather than hiding in his office.

  “Skye.”

  I turned so fast I nearly got whiplash, fairly sure I was hallucinating as I saw Simon approaching.

  “Simon.”

  “Hey,” he said, lovingly.

  With a quick look around for anyone we knew, Simon embraced me giving me the most warm and tender kiss.

  “I’m really sorry I didn’t come in today. Hope I didn’t scare you. I was shopping all day, looking for just the right gift,”

  He slipped the nicely wrapped package carefully into my pocket, acting all coy and super spy.

  “Don’t open it now,” he whispered.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “Would you like to come to my place for dinner.”

  “Yes, please, sir,’ I said nearly crying with relief.

  He kissed me again, quicker that time and took me by the hand, leading me to his nice warm car.

  Chapter Seventeen - Skye

  I was overwhelmed by a flood of feelings, all of them good. Everything was fine between me and Simon, great even. I was back in his nice, warm car, the soft leather creaking under me. Despite being a pretty rich guy with a very nice car, at least from where I was sitting, he didn’t seem to think it put him above the law. He drove defensively, taking the safest option in every situation. I had to wonder if that was at least partly because I was in the car. Not that I thought he would be a speed demon normally. Just the thought of me as precious cargo. I kissed him on the cheek. He didn’t look, but he smiled as I settled back into my seat.

  It was a fucking mansion. I had no idea there was enough space left on the island to have a house that size but there it was. Technically it was a town house but the biggest townhouse I’d ever seen. Constitution three entire floors of wow. As we scaled the stone steps to the fancy front door, I felt Simon put his hand on my lower back, possessively. I smiled as a little thrill when through me. I thought of myself as being his, but was glad that he agreed. Frankly, I would have let him carry me in if he’d felt so included.

  The place even smelled good. Like cinnamon and after shave. Manly but still welcoming, in no way offensive to my nose. If anything it made me want to stay around.

  Helping me with my coat, Simon hung it on the honest to goodness coat rack hanging next to the door. Looking like something out of a black and white movie. Our coats taken care of, he assessed the rest of my outfit.

  “Cute,” he said.

  Taking off my boots, as well as his shoes, he took my hand, leading me into the dining room and sat me down at the table, actually pulling the chair out for me, and pushing it back in. I was already so wet it was a struggle not to squirm. It was arousing enough just to be around him, never mind him being so damn gentlemanly and casually touching me. I loved it and would honestly take any touching he saw fit to give me.

  “I’ll be back soon.”

  I couldn’t imagine where he was going. To call a take out place maybe? He had invited me for dinner, so I assume there would be food at some point.

  The sounds were strange at first. Rhythmic tapping, as though metal on wood. Of course. He was chopping veggies. Simon had invited me to his house for a dinner he was going to make. I had to pinch myself to make sure I was still awake. The pain mixed with my elation as the distinctive sound of an oven door opening echoed through the house.

  “What are you making?” I asked, unable to stop myself.

  “Pizza,” he said, popping a bottle of wine from the nearby rack.

  “You can make pizza at home?”

  “Ate lot of take out as kid?” he asked, not unkindly, setting a glass of wine in front of me.

  “No but when we did it was pizza. I’m not really allowed to have wine, the bottle at my place had been there when I moved in. I-I was trying to impress you.”

  “Ah, gotcha,” he said, dumping my half glass into his making a full one, “to answer your question, yes, though to be fair it can be difficult to do well in a domestic oven. Most pizza ovens, which are a very specific design, have what’s called a heating stone. You can get those for domestic ovens now. Otherwise, it is important to set the heat high enough. I mean really high, 450, around there.”

  “Where did you learn how to cook?” I asked, curious.

  “At my grandma’s side. She’d tell me how to set the oven for different dishes before I was tall enough to reach the knobs. I never forgot. She wanted me to be self-sufficient in the essentials of life, so I learned how to cook all my favorite foods, as well as how to was and fix clothes. I didn’t think she was suspicious about my ability to get married but wanted me to be ready just in case.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said.

  “I also wouldn’t want to put all that on my partner anyway,” Simon continued, “I think she knew that. I have a thing about being the driver of my own bus. Not liking to have to rely on anyone else.”

  I wanted to say something but nothing came readily to mind. Besides which the smell had started, capture most of my attention. It smelled wonderful. Real gourmet stuff. My tummy started to rumble just from the smell of it.

  “Patience, darling,” he said, playfully patting my tummy through my sweater.

  I couldn’t help but giggle, sparks crackling between us as our eyes met. An unspoken connection made.

  Before long, the pizza was done, just as Simon had promised. Another point in his favor in terms of trust. Ordinarily I would have been scared going to a guy’s house. No matter how well I knew him, which was questionable in Simon’s case. It didn’t matter though. I felt a strong connection to him and wanted to be around him as much as possible.

  “Wow,” I marveled, as he set a truly lovely slice of pizza in front of me on an ironstone plate.

  “Thanks,” he beamed.

  I was like an orgasm in my mouth. The pleasure center pleasures in my little brain lighting up like a 4th of July sky. I felt like a princess sitting in that fancy kitchen of that awesome house, eating the best pizza ever.

  Before long the pizza was gone. I’d eaten my share and then some. My metabolism was pretty high because of my training. As my weight went down, my need for food hand gone down in some weird, twisted irony.

  “Sorry,” I said, suppressing a belch.

  “No, no, it’s fine. I made it to be eaten. Do you train?”

  “Yeah, contortion,” I said, “I started running to get my weight down to be able to do it. I’m not perfect yet. I’ve seen some girls who can really twist up like pretzels but I’m certainly flexible.

  “Are you now?” he asked, laying a hand on my thigh.

  “Y-yes, sir,” I said.

  I could feel the warmth of his hand through my yoga pants and was getting super excited. I want him to touch me but didn’t dare ask.

  “Would, you like dessert?” he asked, backing off.

  “Yes, please,” I said, my voice still barely a whisper.

  “Be right back,” he said.


  After what felt like an eternity, the sweet smell of fresh blueberry pie came into the dining room from the kitchen, followed closely by Simon.

  “My favorite,” I said, as he put the pie down in front of me, a blob of whipped cream on top.

  “Glad to hear it,” he said, giving me a tender kiss.

  I fought the urge to blush. There was nothing wrong with the kiss and I refused to allow myself to be embarrassed. I loved what was happening and was determined to enjoy it.

  We ate in silence for a while, Simon’s eyes on me the entire time. After several moments, he took hold of my wrist. Stopping me lifting more by to my mouth. Placing his other hand on my cheek, he turned my face toward him and licked away the pie filling I hadn’t noticed. I thought maybe he was going to put his tongue in my mouth and try to French me. My excitement mixed with anxiety. I wasn’t the best at making out but was willing to try, just hoping he would be patient with me.

  Rather than going for a kiss, he went back to his pie. Finishing most of it. Even with my appetite and love of blueberry pie, my progress was rather slower.

  “You can open your gift now,” he said, taking his plate into the kitchen.

  Like a shot I was up and out to the front hall, getting the gift from the pocket of my coat. I was back at the table, meticulously deconstructing Simon’s careful wrapping job as he returned from washing his dishes.

  Inside the wrapping I found a box that looked like it would hold a necklace. It wasn’t a Tiffany’s box but was still fancy nonetheless. The lid opened with a characteristic creak, slowly revealing what was inside.

  “What is it?” I asked, trying not to be rude.

  “They’re nipple clamps,” he said placidly.