She looked at him and made up her mind. Well, what was the worst that could happen? That he wouldn’t want to know after they’d had sex? That he wouldn’t fall in love with her if she ‘gave in’ too early? But who said she even wanted another boyfriend just yet anyway? Couldn’t she try being like Zara for a little while? And anyway, weren’t you supposed to go a little crazy when you’ve just broken up with someone?
‘Do you want to come back to mine?’ she asked, looking straight into his eyes.
‘Are you sure? What about your friend?’ He looked surprised and delighted at the same time.
‘She’ll be fine. I’ll text her.’
She took his hand. Her stomach cramped with desire and a flash of heat shot between her legs. She wanted to be in bed with a man, wanted to have a man’s cock inside her.
At her house, she climbed onto his lap and kissed him, making her body go as soft and as pliable as possible. He unzipped her dress, undoing her bra at the same time –smooth – so that in an instant she was naked from the waist up. This was what she wanted, and the further it went, the more she wanted because as she was beginning to learn, when it comes to sex, the more you have, the more you want, and enough is never enough. She wanted everything, and she trusted that he would be the one to give it to her.
‘Let’s go upstairs.’
Upstairs was a mess – clothes were strewn everywhere and the bed was unmade. She cleared the bed in a second and they were on it, kissing, touching, grabbing at each other. He pulled off her knickers and buried his head between her legs: nuzzling, breathing, kissing, licking and sucking at exactly the right pressure, exactly the right pace. But she pulled him up and into her arms, needing to kiss him, hold him close, to reconnect.
He pushed her hand down onto his cock and she wrapped her hand around it.
‘Put it in your mouth,’ he said. She took his cock into her mouth with genuine pleasure, loving the way it felt, the way its thick hardness filled her mouth. She took it as far into her mouth as she could and ran her tongue up and down the length of it and heard him groan with pleasure.
‘You are so good at that, the best,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry; I’m not going to come in your mouth.’
‘You can if you want.’ She said with his cock still half in her mouth.
‘No, I’m not going to come for ages yet.’
He pulled her up.
‘I want to fuck you now.’ He reached in his jeans pocket for a condom.
‘How do you want me?’ she asked, feeling deliciously sluttish.
‘On your front.’ She rolled over, anticipation coursing through her like adrenaline.
He used his fingers then pushed his cock into her hard from behind, almost taking her breath away. As soon as she had got used to the deep penetration, he began feeling around her with his fingers and then without warning pushed a finger inside her bottom.
‘Ouch!’ she said, more in surprise than pain.
‘Did that hurt?’ he asked.
‘Not really.’
‘Good. I want to fuck you there. Will you let me?
She didn’t recognise the woman who spoke.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh God, you are amazing!’ He buried his head in her neck. ‘Have you done this before?’
‘No. Have you?’ Knowing the answer was surely yes.
‘Mmm, I have, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll be really gentle. I promise. Lie on your side for me. That’s better. Now, I don’t suppose you’ve got any lube?’
‘Well, as it happens, I do.’
‘Really? Well, that’s good. OK, let me put some on, on me, and on you.’
She felt the delicious familiar coldness of the lube, felt his fingers working inside her, and straight away it felt good. She just knew she was going to like it. She had drunk just enough so as not to feel nervous, and not enough to blunt the pure physical pleasure of being touched. She moaned as he gently, slowly but surely, pushed his cock inside her. He felt very big and her body felt very tight but it felt good to have him inside her like that.
‘Jesus Christ, Amber, that feels good.’ He reached his hand around to her front and put his fingers inside her, spreading the silky wetness over her clit then stroking her there, gently and steadily, while he pushed himself in and out of her at the same pace.
She couldn’t believe what was happening to her, but she wasn’t afraid. He had a confident, experienced way about him that made her feel safe, that made her feel that he knew what he was doing.
And what he was doing was fucking her arse at the same time as playing with her clit and it felt as if he were somehow turning her entire being – body, brain and soul – to liquid and she had no idea if she’d ever become solid again.
‘Is that OK for you?’ He said gently into her neck.
‘It’s just … amazing.’ She could barely speak, she was so close to orgasm.
‘Yeah, you’re right, it is. You are so fucking sexy, do you know that? You look fucking fantastic; you feel absolutely fucking fantastic … You know, I could do this all night, but you might get sore’
‘Mmm.’
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes. Please don’t stop.’ She took his hand and pressed it hard against her. ‘I’m going to come.’
Afterwards, she lay on her side, feeling too fragile to move, while he got them a beer each from downstairs and lit a cigarette. He looked at her as if she were some amazing, gorgeous, exotic creature – she couldn’t remember a man looking at her that way, ever. He spoke:
‘You know, you seem so different to how you were when I met you the first time. Before Christmas. You seemed so sad then, kind of tense. Tonight, I mean, it was like you were a completely different person. I mean that as a compliment,’ he said hurriedly, ‘I think you’re absolutely fantastic. I just wondered; that’s all, what changed?’
‘Oh, right. Well you see, what it was … I just got some really good Christmas presents!’
The Ghost of Christmas yet to Come
by Mimi Elise
Zara stared at the computer screen, trying to make sense of the spreadsheet. The company was down a couple of hundred pounds, and she couldn’t work out where the money had gone. If it took her all Christmas, she’d get to the bottom of it. She looked up, and eyed the rest of the staff through the glass walls of her office, tutting as she did so. It wasn’t even five o’clock, and they were already off duty by the looks of things.
They were preparing for the Christmas party. Trudy, her Personal Assistant, was already wearing a little black dress, which showed off her ample cleavage and curvy legs. She was unveiling the new boyfriend at the party, and had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to impress both him and the staff.
Gaynor, the office slut, was flirting with Barry, the office bore. Zara’s lips pursed. He’d be boring everyone about Gaynor’s deep throat technique when they were all back at work. Not that Gaynor couldn’t wax lyrical on the subject herself.
While Zara was staring at Trudy and Gaynor disapprovingly, Jake appeared in her view, waving at her. Jake was the company heartthrob. Thirty-six years old, tall, ruggedly handsome, with thick dark hair, and green eyes, all the girls fancied him. Zara suspected he was gay, because he never asked any of them out. Before she could pretend to look busy, he put his head around her office door.
“Coming to the party tonight, Zara?” he asked.
“No, too much to do.”
“Oh come on, it’s Christmas,” he said. “Come and have a drink. I’ll save a dance for you.”
“No, thanks. There’s a problem with this spreadsheet. In fact, I wanted to talk to you about it …”
“Zara, it’s nearly five o’clock, and what’s more it’s Christmas Eve. The spreadsheet will still be there after the holiday.”
“Some o
f us are a bit more dedicated to our work,” said Zara, casting a disapproving glance at Gaynor, who was fondling Lloyd’s shirt collar.
“We’re all dedicated, Zara,” said Jake, looking annoyed. “But sometimes we need to let our hair down. You remember how that felt, don’t you? Drinking, dancing, making love.”
Zara flushed. “If you think I want to join in the annual shagfest, Jake, you’ve got another think coming.”
He muttered something under his breath, which Zara felt sure was along the lines of ‘God knows you could do with it’.
“What was that, Jake?” she asked.
“Nothing, I said nothing. See you after the holidays.”
Zara swore under her breath. Why could she never say the right thing to him? All the other girls were OK around him. But every time Zara was faced with his good looks and charisma, she turned into a harridan. That was despite the fact she wanted him to like her. One day, she told herself, she’d forget about work, and concentrate on her love life. Just not today.
A couple of hours later, the party was in full swing. Zara could see them all getting drunk. Some were dancing and a few couples disappeared to the loos or the stationery cupboard. She fumed at the waste of time and energy, while deep down she wished she could let her hair down. Deciding it would be impossible to get any work done with all the distraction, she packed up her laptop and started for home.
It was midnight when Zara pushed away her laptop, still unable to account for the missing money. She looked around her small flat, which was devoid of Christmas decoration. In fact it was devoid of any decoration, with clean white sofas and glossy oak floors. It hadn’t looked much different when she’d first viewed it as a show apartment. There was nothing in there to suggest she had any of her own personality at all.
She sat back in her chair, and must have dozed off. She awoke when she heard someone calling her name. “Zara, wake up you idle cow,” the voice said. Looking at her laptop, Zara saw her old college friend, Pattie, looking back at her.
“Pattie? Are you on the webcam?” Zara rubbed her eyes. No, that couldn’t be it, because Pattie looked just as she had when they were in college, and since then she’d got married and had three kids. The last time Zara saw Pattie, she was a cuddly size fourteen. The image looking back at her was the svelte and gorgeous eighteen-year-old who’d shagged her way through most of the boys in college. Not that Pattie’s husband was aware of that.
“No, I’m not on the webcam. I’m a ghost.”
“You’re dead?” Zara felt a chill. No one had told her.
“No, not a ghost as such. A memory. Anyway, I’ve come to tell you to keep your eye on the laptop. You’ll be visited by three ghosts before morning.”
“Oh, shit,” said Zara, “I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that leftover pizza. It was the prawns, wasn’t it?”
“You’re not dreaming or hallucinating,” said Pattie. “Just keep watching, OK?”
Zara did as she was told, but after an hour, she felt cold and stiff. She got up to go and get a warm drink, but was stopped halfway to the kitchen by someone shouting her name.
Back at the laptop, she saw a young woman of about eighteen, dressed in a university sweatshirt.
“Hi, Zara, I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past. Keep watching. I’m taking you on a journey to the … well the past. Hence my name and all that.”
The screen went fuzzy, then the next moment, Zara was looking at the old common room from her college days. Judging by the decorations, it was Christmas. Various couples were either dancing or sitting on sofas snogging. At the far end of the room, sitting at a table, trying to study, was Zara as she’d been then, with long raven hair, and big blue eyes. She was casting a glance around the room, not unlike the one that the modern day Zara had given to her workmates earlier that evening, full of irritation and wistfulness. Suddenly a boy appeared in view. She knew him straight away. It was Tony.
“Want to dance, Zara?” he asked.
“No, I’m studying. Some of us care about passing our exams.”
“Suit yourself,” said Tony, walking away.
“Idiot,” said the thirty-year-old Zara, “Go after him.” She’d had such a crush on Tony. She watched her younger self get up and follow Tony. “No,” said Zara, remembering what a mistake that had been. “That’s a stupid idea. Don’t go.”
But she’d followed him, losing him among the maze of rooms in the college. She’d found him eventually, but by that time he was already in the gym, lying on a pile of exercise mats with a girl called Hilary. Zara her younger self watching them, as Tony’s hands slipped under Hilary’s top, cupping her firm breasts. She could see his erection, almost exploding out of his trousers. His hand wandered down Hilary’s body, and under her skirt, delving into her panties, sliding his fingers in and out of her, as she moaned with faked pleasure. He had all the finesse of an eighteen-year-old boy, which meant his touch was clumsy and missing the girl’s clit more times than he found it. Despite his lack of experience, Zara had been aroused. She’d wished his fingers were inside her, pleasuring her wet pussy. Instead Hilary got all the pleasure, and Zara could only watch as he brought her to a very dramatic (and obviously faked) orgasm.
He whispered something in Hilary’s ear, and then lay on his back. Hilary unzipped his jeans, and pulled his cock out, sliding her hands along its length, before leaning over and taking it all in her mouth. His hands moved to her head, pushing it down so that she was forced to take more of it.
Zara had leaned against the wall, thinking she was out of sight, rubbing furiously at her own pussy through her clothes. Tony had released his seed into Hilary’s mouth. Then his face turned towards the Zara sitting watching her laptop thirteen years later, and he winked.
In reality he’d turned to her eighteen year old self and winked. He’d known all along that she was there. After that, Tony and his friends had teased her mercilessly about her voyeurism, and the whole college got to know about how she’d played with herself while watching Hilary give Tony a blowjob. They’d never let her live it down.
She didn’t remain a virgin, but sex for Zara since then had always been an awkward act. She’d never been able to really let herself go with any man, for fear of being mocked again.
“Why are you showing me this?” said Zara, tears stinging her eyes. “If this is supposed to make me want to go off and shag everyone at the party, it’s not working.”
“OK,” said the Ghost of Christmas Past, as if it was of no consequence to her at all. “You’ll get another visit soon.”
Zara must have dozed again. “Come on, wake up, I haven’t got all night!” On her laptop screen was a woman of whom Zara immediately approved. She was dressed in a sharp designer suit, and her hair and make-up were immaculate. “I’m the ghost of Christmas present. And by present, I mean now, not next week, so don’t keep me waiting.”
“All right,” said Zara. “Get on with it then. I’m not going anywhere.”
The screen flickered, and when it cleared, Zara saw the office where she worked. Everyone was still having a good time. She heard the voice of Barry the office bore above everyone else. He was amongst a group of people including Trudy, her new boyfriend, David, Gaynor and Jake. Zara didn’t like the way Gaynor was looking at Jake. Wasn’t the office whore supposed to be pursuing Barry?
“Zara? You’re kidding,” said Barry, belching on a swig of lager. “She’s what I think of when I don’t want to come too soon.”
“That’s a rotten thing to say,” said Trudy. She’d had a lot to drink, so managed to look annoyed and amused all at once. “I happen to like Zara. She’s worked hard to get where she is.”
“I like her too,” said Jake, quietly. He cast Barry a murderous look.
“She’s a frigid cow,” said Barry. Before anyone realised what was happening, Jake had thrust his fist into Ba
rry’s face, knocking him over. Jake stormed off, closely followed by Gaynor.
No one helped Barry up, mainly because he always spent the office Christmas parties on the floor, either pissed up or because someone who’d kept their cool with him all year decided to hit him.
“Oh, damn,” said Trudy.
“What sweetheart?” asked David.
“I forgot to give Zara the receipts for the office party. She’ll be wondering what happened to the money when she comes to do the accounts. There’s two hundred quids worth.”
“Oh, that’s where it went,” said Zara, glad to have cleared up one mystery.
“Never mind that now,” said David, slipping his arm around Trudy’s waist. “It’s time I gave you your Christmas gift.
The screen flickered to show a hotel room. “Hang on,” said Zara, “I wanted to see where Jake and Gaynor went. Or is this it? Am I supposed to watch them fuck? If so, then I’ll switch the bloody thing off.”
The door opened, to reveal Trudy and David. David carried a bottle of champagne. He kicked the door shut behind them. The room was luxurious, with cosy lighting and rose petals spread across the bed. David had obviously gone to a lot of trouble.
“Alone at last,” he said, pulling Trudy into his arms. He pressed her body up against the wall, his hands sliding over her slinky dress, kissing her breasts through the fine fabric. “I’ve been wanting you all night,” he murmured.
Trudy kissed him back, nibbling at his lower lip, and cupping his groin in her hand. “I thought I’d explode if we didn’t get away soon,” she whispered. “All I’ve been able to think about is having you hard inside me.”
David slipped his hand up under Trudy’s dress, pulling it up to reveal she was wearing crotchless panties. His finger slid between the lips of her vagina, slowly and tenderly stimulating her clit. He had far more finesse than Tony, and there was nothing fake about Trudy’s moans of pleasure, while he fingered her and spread soft kisses from her collarbone to the soft swell of her breasts. David got down on his knees and kissed her vagina through the lacy briefs, while his fingers pulled apart the crotch. He thrust his tongue into the dark, moist secret of Trudy’s pussy, continuing to stimulate her with his fingers at the same time. Her fingers entwined in his hair, and her body arched against the wall. She spread her legs wider, offering her pussy to his hungry lips.
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