By this time, the smirk which had been plastered on my face when he’d started dressing had faded away. My intention had been to humiliate Mickey, paying him back for making me wear such a ridiculous outfit tonight. What I hadn’t expected was that by the time he had squeezed into my lingerie I would find the sight not ridiculous – but horny. The silky panties, still warm and perfumed from my body, could barely contain his cock, which was almost fully erect and sticking up over the waistband. As for the sheer stockings, they simply drew attention to his mouthwateringly muscular thighs, which were normally hidden under the baggy shorts or combat pants he wore behind the bar. In stripping him of his cocky bravado, I’d revealed the real man underneath, even if I’d had to dress him as a woman to do so.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had always told myself that I didn’t fancy him in the least and now all I had done was prove how wrong I’d been. If I wasn’t careful, I could end up surrendering the control I’d gained when I had forced Mickey into my underwear, and that was certainly something I didn’t want to do just yet.
“How does it feel to be wearing my knickers?” I asked him.
“Amazing,” he admitted.
“Well, show me how much you like wearing them, then. Stroke yourself through them for me.”
Without hesitation, Mickey began to do as I’d asked, grasping his cock through the panties and slowly rubbing up and down. His eyelids fluttered shut and he gave a strangled groan. Clearly that thin layer of material was adding something to the sensation of wanking himself. Watching him, I couldn’t resist reaching up under my skirt and touching the hot, wet centre of my own pleasure. Before either of us could get too carried away, though, I needed to call a halt to the fun. “That’s quite enough,” I told him. “I need you to save something for me.”
His hand fell to his side as he waited for further instructions. “Do you have any condoms?” I asked him, thinking that if he said no, I would have to dash to the ladies’ toilets and help myself to a packet from the vending machine.
“Look in the desk drawer, there should be some there,” he instructed me.
I pulled the drawer open to find a whole handful of little foil packets. Ripping one open, I discovered it was dark red in colour and had a strangely spicy scent.
“Mulled wine flavour. Some kind of promotional thing from the suppliers,” Mickey explained almost apologetically. “’Tis the season to get your brains fucked out, and all that.”
“Don’t promise anything you can’t deliver,” I murmured, freeing his cock from the clinging panties, and rolling the sheath down over its length. Then I leaned over his desk, looked back at him coquettishly and said, “You can give me my present now.”
Mickey didn’t need asking twice. Snapping the elastic of my knickers in his rush to be free of them, he came up behind me. His body pressed close against mine, he popped my breasts out of the dress’ low-cut bodice so he could cup and play with them. I sighed, and pushed my bum back against his groin as his thumbs quickly brought my nipples to hard crests. His mouth nuzzled my ear, then moved a little lower, his stubbled chin tickly against the soft flesh of my neck.
Impatient to feel him inside me, I reached between my own legs and grasped hold of his erection, guiding it to my entrance. He didn’t need much help nudging his way into my depths, and I gave a long exhalation, delayed gratification rushing out of me as he pushed higher, harder.
Our bodies bumped together, every thrust Mickey gave pressing me up against the old wooden desk. I clung on for dear life as the ferocity of our fucking increased; barely registering that we had managed to knock over all the Christmas cards Mickey had carefully arranged on the desktop. His cock was touching places I hadn’t even known I possessed, and I could feel the stockings he still wore brushing against my bare thighs. One of his hands had dropped down so he could rub my clit, exposed and so sensitive to his touch. And then he was coming inside me, and our cries of pleasure were ringing out, wild and joyous as Christmas bells.
For a couple of moments neither of us had the energy to move or even say a word, and then Mickey spun me round and gave me a long, passionate kiss. I kissed him back, and though I didn’t expect this to be the start of any kind of lasting relationship between us – Mickey would always be too much of a player for that – I couldn’t pretend that I hadn’t enjoyed every moment of the Christmas magic we had shared.
“Seeing how well those outfits went down with the punters tonight, I want to do something similar for New Year’s Eve,” Mickey said, when we finally pulled apart. “I was thinking of fishnets and a little G-string.”
“Sounds great,” I replied, “but what am I going to be wearing?”
Christmas Comes but Once a Year
by Jodie Johnson-Smith
The bells woke Holly from a midnight armchair doze. Gazing out of the living room window, she watched in amazement as eight reindeer and a sleigh landed on the lawn.
Father Christmas vaulted over the side of the sleigh, a sleek vehicle that looked as it belonged in a sci-fi movie. He tethered the reindeer to the rotary drier and handed round a bag of carrots muttering words of praise and patting each animal as he did so.
Holly stared thoughtfully at the rum bottle. It was nearly empty. She’d found the bottle, with a couple of inches gracing the bottom, in one of the kitchen cupboards. She hadn’t drunk the spirit before and given what she’d just seen, it was probably just as well.
Or maybe she should drink some more of it because the Father Christmas outside wasn’t a cute, cuddly little man with a beard. He was young and wearing tight black jeans and a bright red sweatshirt.
Holly decided she was hallucinating. She had to be. He just couldn’t be real.
But whether it was hallucination, hologram or ghost, a decidedly fit bloke was striding across the lawn towards the house, striding up to the back door where Holly was now waiting.
Swigging down more rum, she opened the door and invited him in. To hell with all those words of wisdom about not talking to strangers, she wasn’t letting this one out of her sight.
“Hi, I’m Noel,” said the apparition. “I think my sat nav must have blipped. I don’t usually visit this house. There aren’t any kids living here, are there?”
“No. I don’t live here either,” Holly told him. “I’m just house-sitting for my friend Julie. She’s gone abroad for the festivities.”
“You’re here on your own?” Noel said in disbelief. “Doesn’t sound like much of a Christmas to me.”
“No. Well, my boyfriend Darren dumped me a couple of weeks ago for a pair of interchangeable blonde twins called Chantelle and Charlene. Good things come in twos apparently.”
Noel’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.
“Darren sleeps with them both at once?”
“I don’t think they do a lot of sleeping,” Holly muttered. “But that’s why I’m here alone anyway. You’re much younger than I’d expected,” she added, eyeing what was undoubtedly a very sexy body under the sweatshirt. “But why are you here? What’s with the sleigh and all that? I mean you can’t be real,” she told him. “You can’t be Father Christmas.”
“I’ll have you know I’m pure flesh and blood.” Well, he certainly looked it.
“But you can’t be Father Christmas,” she repeated. Swaying slightly, Holly shook her head. “Father Christmas or Santa Claus or whatever he calls himself, is an old man with a beard. There are enough pictures of him about and he looks the same in every one.”
“So are you accusing me of being an impostor?” Noel sounded a bit put out. “Well, let me show you how real I am.”
He reached for the button on his jeans and undid it. Slowly and without taking his eyes off Holly, he slid down the zip before easing the jeans over his hips. Underneath he was wearing boxer shorts. Holly was surprised to see they were plain grey and not c
overed in naff Christmas motifs as Darren’s had been.
She blinked and had another swig of rum. She’d never considered FCs underwear before and it bothered her slightly to think she was doing so now.
Holly thought the show was over. There’s only so much fantasy that alcohol can conjure up after all.
But nobody had told Noel that.
“Is this real enough for you?” He lowered the shorts to reveal his semi-erect penis.
“I could never be a stripper,” he sighed, stroking up a full-sized erection. “I’d be coming all over the place.” He ran his fingers around the tip of his penis. It responded by growing another inch.
“So what do you think? Is this real enough for you?”
The thought of him stripping off at a hen night and climaxing over the audience caused Holly’s nipples to harden. The sight of him working towards it, (he was now unashamedly wanking himself off), made her knickers wet.
No way was any of this happening to her. It just couldn’t be. This was the stuff of pure x-rated erotic fantasies, the stuff of fiction, which only happened to lucky heroines in books.
“This has to be a joke or a set-up or something,” she said unable to take her eyes off the hand fisted around his penis. “In my world, blokes don’t just turn up and start masturbating in front of you.”
“But you didn’t believe I was real,” Noel argued. “And everybody should believe in Father Christmas.” He fingered his erection a bit more and groaned. “Come and feel how real I am. Please.” Noel wrapped both hands round his penis and offered it to her. “You can’t doubt me then. Here. I’m all yours.”
Holly couldn’t believer her luck. She wanted to do far more than feel how real he was. She wanted to make him come so she could taste him.
She stepped forward thinking that as soon as she touched him, he’d probably vanish into thin air or something. Because there was just no way any of this could be happening. It was just the booze playing tricks.
Noel stayed right where he was. Eager to keep him there, Holly began stroking his thick shaft until a gasp of pleasure escaped his throat and a drop of glistening moisture appeared at the tip of his penis. Holly needed no further encouragement. Dropping to her knees before him, she took his cock into her mouth.
“Wow.” Noel was breathing erratically. “I am so glad my sat-nav blipped. I usually only get sherry and mince pies.”
Holly sucked on his erection, tasting the salty tang as she ran her tongue up and down its length. Then she bought her hands back into play, gently massaging and tweaking between his legs.
She was just getting into the swing of things when he stopped her.
“So do you believe I’m real now?”
“Well, yes, but I still don’t understand …”
“I know what you’re thinking and I’ll explain who I am later. But right now, I want to undress you.”
Shivers of lust coursed through Holly’s body. There was nothing she wanted more. She adored blokes undressing her. It was her biggest turn-on.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Once he’d removed the rest of his clothes, Noel stripped Holly completely naked.
After unhooking her bra and caressing her breasts, he slid off her tiny white lace panties. With her spine pressed against Noel’s chest, his hands holding her firm as she climbed out of them, Holly almost came. Being undressed by a stranger was her all-time favourite fantasy and she couldn’t believe it was happening to her, albeit in her friend Julie’s kitchen.
Wrapping his arms around her, Noel kissed Holly, forcing his tongue between her teeth and crushing her bare body to his. Then he shoved his penis between her legs, teasing her clit as he rubbed its length against her. It was all too much for Holly.
“Lie down on the couch for me.” Noel’s erection was throbbing and he wanted rid of it. Holly ignored him. Her own arousal was far too great. Grinding her cunt onto the hard curve of his hip, she brought herself off to a shuddering climax.
Noel held her as she panted against him, pressing herself further into him, arms clasped around the back of his neck.
Gently he carried her into the lounge and laid her on the couch. Holly sank down expecting him to cover her body with his. It was what she wanted, what she craved. She needed to feel him inside her, fucking her for real.
Instead, Noel stood over her and began stroking his penis again. After the attention it had received from Holly, it was now bigger than ever.
“Watch me come,” he said.
Slowly, he began pumping his cock, sliding his hand up and down the smooth shaft, gradually increasing the speed of his actions. Holly was mesmerized. As she watched Noel masturbate, her fingers toyed with her nipples and then slid down her body, heading for her most intimate spot. Her clit was on fire and she was already on the verge of coming again. When Noel climaxed, spraying her naked body with drops of milky semen, it was more than enough to trigger her second orgasm.
Once the spasms had passed, Noel knelt down beside the couch and began licking her clean.
“I’m a descendant of Father Christmas,” Noel explained, tongue sliding over Holly’s firm breasts. Holly gasped as he gently bit her nipples, teasing them back into hardened peaks until they hurt like hell. His tongue roamed over her body, down and over her sides it went until it was skimming the soft flesh of her inner thighs. “The original Father Christmas will never stop doing the rounds,” he murmured, teeth gently grazing her labia. “But the toys are so sophisticated these days that it all gets a bit complicated for him. So I help him out with the gizmos, gadgets and whatnots – I even deliver dildos to a few special ladies!”
“Ladies!” Holly gasped as Noel’s tongue finally slid into her vagina. “I thought you only delivered to children.”
“Ah well, there are one or two exceptions to the rule.” Deprived of attention while he was talking, Holly began stoking her pubes, sucking her fingers and making them wet, before frigging herself. Noel watched lazily. “You know, you are really turning me on again – I think I might look in on Chantelle and Charlene later on tonight. But anyway, technology has speeded things up no end – I just take December off work to process the letters, emails and texts that we receive from the children. And then I do part of the round. You’ve got a fantastic body,” he added.
Noel began licking her again, teasing her senses into a frenzy. “And I’d like to stay longer, explore you some more but I’ll have to go. I’ve got loads of stuff to deliver. I can’t let the kids down.”
“No, not yet,” Holly begged.
Noel smiled. His fingers joined hers as they brushed through her pubic hair, deftly plucking at single strands, flicking his nails over the thick fleshy folds that housed her clit. Holly shuddered and groaned. Bathed in a thin sheen of sweat, she was beginning to wonder if he would ever touch her where she needed it most. Suddenly, his fingers found their way inside.
“Oh God!” Arching her back, Holly bucked against his hand, pushing herself hard against his palm, her backside slapping up and down on the cream leather sofa. Noel licked and sucked on each nipple in turn, bringing Holly to her final orgasm. Writhing with lust, Noel held Holly at her peak for what seemed like ages.
“Would you like some rum before you go? I think there’s a drop left,” she panted when her body had stopped shaking.
“Just a small one then – I’m driving.” Reluctantly, Noel removed his hand and started getting dressed.
Holly didn’t bother getting dressed. She stood on the doorstep naked, proudly displaying her body for all the neighbours to see should any of them be looking out of their windows. It was freezing but Holly didn’t notice. The sex and the rum had warmed her to blazing point.
The lights on the sleigh lit up the street as it took off and headed out over the lamp posts. Holly didn’t care who saw her standing t
here. If Noel was real, then she wanted him to remember her as a goddess, especially if he was visiting the twins later. Maybe she’d been a fantasy for him, too. She sincerely hoped so.
“And they say Christmas only comes once a year,” she laughed as she went back inside. “Well I don’t care whether he was real or not, that was the best Christmas Eve of my life.”
As Christmas day progressed through her solitary turkey meal and the Queen’s speech though, Holly decided she must have imagined it all. What Noel had told her was too fantastic for words. No way could it possibly be true. Rum obviously had the oddest effect on her. Pity she’d run out of it.
When the doorbell rang later that afternoon, she hoped it’d be Darren and the twins seeking an extra for one of their sex games. Holly would have agreed to anything. She longed to be naked and climaxing again.
“Hi.”
Noel stood on the doorstep dressed in the same red sweatshirt and jeans.
“I’ve come straight from work – Christmas has only just arrived in some parts of the world – so I didn’t have time to change. Happy Christmas.” He handed Holly a gift-wrapped bottle. “You’d run out of rum when I left last night. Oh and I’ve brought you these as well. I didn’t bother wrapping them – I hoped you’d want to christen them straightaway.” He handed Holly a packet of condoms.
Holly didn’t say a word. She undid the button on his jeans, took his hand and headed for the stairs.
“We can go to bed if you like,” Noel said. “Or we could go for a ride in my sleigh.”
Holly had never considered being fucked in a sleigh, not even in her wildest dreams.
“Sounds great.”
“Perhaps we’ll pop round and see the twins later,” Noel said, whipping off the sweatshirt as he headed outside.
Holly started shedding her clothes and then stopped. Why bother when Noel was here to undress her? The thought of him stripping her again made her tingle with delight. She wouldn’t even need the rum this time.
Seriously Sexy Stocking Filler Page 12