On Loan for Christmas
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Drunk/Drugged, Heterosexual, Fiction, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Petting, Water Sports, Size, Small Breasts,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Cindi is searching for a proper partner in life and she is determined to find one before Christmas day.
For all considered intents and purposes, it had started as an ordinary December just like any other, with the exception that the absence of snow made it particularly lacking in the area of Christmas Season atmosphere.
Cindi Sweetly checked her purse the hundredth time just to feel the coins and folded notes inside the velvet case. The simple truth was that it never failed to calm her skittish nerves on the cold, greyish skied streets filled with lower classes rushing in every direction to find a last-minute gift. Cindi had vowed to not get into that brand of foolishness this year as proof that she was finally an adult and had put away her unwanted childish glee at the thought of toys and candy. The passing of her often-in-his-cups father and the terrible crippled hands of her arthritic mother had put the burden of finding income for their meager existence with the added stress of her younger sixteen year old sister Mary with her romantic notions of finding her soul-mate above any other hidden urge including the mundane needs of survival at a time when good folk were starving all around them.
There were only scattered remnants of the fresh green country trees on her roped-off lot now and that was a very good thing because it was only two short days to the happiest day of the year. She sold a little runt of a tree to an old woman and a sniffling young lad with strong enough arms to carry it off to their tiny city apartment like hunters returning from an expedition into the darkest depths of the forest and not merely the benign Christmas tree lot around the corner.
For those of you that are interested in such matters, young Cindi was still technically a virgin, but she had been “through the mill” in terms of fending off assorted uncles and cousins and total strangers all looking for a sample of her personal dignity just to quell their understandable need for instant gratification in a harsh and demanding world. The closest she came to actually “giving it up” was the silly journey to the seaside with her family and her aunt and uncle from a small coastal village with more stones on their beach than actual sand. They had all piled into the decrepit selling cart with more thought to not being left behind than any notion of being comfortable whilst they got there. Somehow, Cindi had been deposited onto a perch atop of her Cousin George’s lap with little thought as to the normal instincts of a plump bottom rubbing on an instrument of hopeful youth without any vestige of conscience about filial relationships or feminine constraint.
Cindi was not upset by the probing intrusion into her private world of bubbly unconcern. That does sound a bit strange, but she had been well acquainted with the fumbling attempts of seduction by males of all ages to test her resolve in resisting such temptations even in the most inconceivable situations that bordered on the ridiculous. She had successfully defended her female private parts against one and all albeit with less enthusiasm when the interloper was both handsome and young. She had even survived a “ride” of similar nature in a coach filled with strange farm laborers unable to even converse in the King’s English. The memory of that exciting trip had caused her to replicate the arousal in the privacy of her corner cot at home with her face turned into the crumbling wall so her family could not see the lust in her eyes or the taste of passion on her tongue. The size of the laborer’s equipment led her to believe that working men were more likely to have the most satisfying tools but the lure of an actual gentleman venturing into her uncharted territories filled her with a pulse-pounding wave of female foolishness that had her grabbing for a safe place to sit before she sank down like some swooning strumpet with the dreaded vapors.
Her red-faced cousin George on the day of the outing was in such a stiffened state that she was reminded of the farm worker with his huge tool working diligently in her garden of female delight. It was impertinence to be sure, but the tongue-tied fellow could not be denied his day in the sun and in all honesty, Cindi had to admit the length and girth of his intrusion was enough to convince her that she should get married sooner rather than later, if such private interactions were a nightly occurrence. She remembered distinctly that the rude fellow had totally wetted her undergarments with his offerings, but she found the sensation of her now damp undies obscenely plastered to her nether regions was surprisingly arousing in a covert and guilt-free expression of feminine independence. The powerful scent of the male emission was in some way a trigger to her internal release of female liquids and she knew afterwards with certainty when she was in close proximity to such deposits just from the way it tickled her nostrils.
As she bounced on her cousin’s lap, Cindi was reminded of that other experiment and she adjusted her skirts so that they were not between her bloomers and George’s rampant hardness hoping her actions would not be construed as wanton by her handsome family relation. After a few hard jolts over some potholes, George was firmly lodged deep between her cheeks and his more than adequate equipment extended all the way to the rear portion of her feminine slot with ease. She rode him skillfully and did her best to squeeze him with her inner muscles just like she heard the housewives brag about their husband’s inability to resist the need to release their offerings in the face of such feminine bravado.
George’s chin was on her shoulder and she knew he was fully engaged because of the way his mouth was slightly open and she could hear him panting like a thirsty dog each time she rose and fell on his manly shaft.
She whispered in his ear,
“This is lovely, George dearest, thank you for filling your cousin’s journey with some exciting moments of togetherness.”
He smiled and replied,
“It is of no consequence, Cousin Cindi. I have longed to explore your pretty bum for ever so long. You must not feel any sense of filial guilt because I was adopted by your aunt and uncle when my parents died and we are not really related except in name and circumstance.”
Cindi relaxed at those words because she was somewhat concerned over the family relationship. Now that she knew he was not really her cousin, she was able to release her passion and she trembled on his shaft like some silly schoolgirl allowing an older boy to gain more knowledge about elusive female anatomy. She was certain exactly when George released his passion from the way his thick shaft expanded inside her crack and felt the touch of his lips on her neck and ear well out of sight of the other passengers. The tip of his tongue ran softly along her ear lobe and she knew he would soon be nibbling on her soft flesh like a hungry animal searching for her most defenseless spot. Her inner legs were wet with her juices and she could feel the weight of his spunk on her bloomers like some spreading of butter or jam on a slice of bread.
“How can you stay so hard for so long, dearest George?”
He looked up at her and told her,
“Don’t move, Cindi, I am not finished yet. Lean forward and I will be able to rub right on your special spot with my little fellow. I have done it like that with my girlfriend Amy more than once and she has even ripped a hole in her bloomers for me to sample her wetness.”
George’s words triggered a rush of tingling sensations in Cindi’s female parts and she was soon reduced to hanging onto his hands to keep from falling onto the cart’s floor in a heap of female flesh drained of all resistance and ripe for the taking in a more private circumstance. She prayed that her sudden release was not noticeable in the jumbled chaos inside the cart.
She saw her sister look over her shoulder at her with a big grin on her face.
Cindi was certain that the little slut knew exactly what she was getting completely out of sight. It was a dangerous moment, but Cindi was so committed to George’s pleasure that she didn’t care what anybody thought about her disgraceful behavior.
The ride back was equally as interesting.
The jingle of the bells on her Christmas tree lot ropes caught her attention and she looked up to see a handsome, still-youthful, yet mature gentleman of some five and thirty years stumble into her scant remaining trees and offer a flowery apology that was totally unnecessary and strangely exciting to her cold-reddened ears at a time when her thoughts were of romance and her lack of a firm candidate for consistent bedding on a long-term basis.
It was obvious the young gentleman was deep in his cups because his well-shaped knees refused to lock with studied resolve each time he turned to a slightly varied heading. Cindi was determined not to laugh or even show amusement on her facial features for fear of insulting the young man with her perception of his weakened contact to reality whilst conducting business in public.
She hoped he was actually looking for a tree and not merely trying to find an isolated spot to drain his imagined impressive weasel without damaging his expensive trousers or imported Italian leather boots. The more she focused on that thought, the more she found her pulse pounding with lust-driven scenes of her seduction by his wonderfully spotless and well-manicured hands. Cindi looked in every direction, but she saw no companions to assist him in his foray into the quickly darkening streets with danger and excitement all around. She was somewhat comforted by the fact that the uniformed constable was glued to his post at the corner keeping an eye on behavior of the common folk to insure decorum and proper respect for the gentry and unaccompanied females doing their last minute shopping. It was a time of greater freedom for the housewives and daughters because of the season and the need to be properly prepared for a day of celebration for the entire family.
“May I serve you, young sir?”
Her words brought his eyes to focus on her standing quietly in the corner. He lifted his silly glass to his eye as if he needed help to understand her words. Cindi hid her amusement by turning her head and holding up the best selection of remaining trees for his perusal.
“This one is quite fresh and will make your wife and children happy, sir. For you, I can reduce it to only recover my cost. It is entirely due to my own desire to finish up my sales and return to my flat for some warmth and a hot chocolate to chase the cold from my toes.”
She was dressed for the cold weather but it still got to her core after full day of sales and an almost empty lot.
“Thank you, young lady, I am interested in finding a place to rid my body of too much spirits and all of the establishments appear to be already closed and shuttered up for the coming festivities. I have no family to bring a tree to and no reason to celebrate this year because my Dolly is run off with my best friend Tom. I treated her like a lady and all the time he was diddling her behind my back. I am quite certain they were both laughing at my reluctance to degrade her person with matters of male/female needs until after the wedding ceremony.”
Cindi reached out to support the gentleman stumbling in a way that would mean his beautiful attire would soon be stained with the dirt of the street if she did not find a place for him to sit and recover his balance without disaster.
She quickly tied off her ropes and abandoned the three remaining trees to the watchful eye of the constable and allowed the strange gentleman to use her shoulders to make his way with studied determination down the street to her nearby flat waiting with warm welcome for her return.
They managed the four steps into her unit and he managed to make the sofa without falling on his face. It was quite an accomplishment and she was glad for it because she did not want to see him disgrace his image of gentlemanly behavior after they had just met under such odd circumstances.
Now all she had to do was to lean him forward and aim his business into the bedpan because there was no chance for him to navigate the trip down the hallway to the bath at the end of the hall without drawing attention to his state of drunken disregard.
It was not the first time she had held male equipment in her hands, but this was a special moment because she had some hidden urges to do more than just assist him in his toilet in his unsteady condition. She stroked his member with eager tenderness and soon the gentleman was smiling with relief as he loosed his long-stored reserves of processed drink into the bedpan with the sound of liquid authority. He looked down at her between his knees and patted her head telling her,
“Thank you for your kindness, my dear.”
It was the first time she felt more like a nurse than a girl interested in finding other uses for male equipment that might result in the acquisition of a spouse or at least in a partner for long-term arrangements. It was certainly an odd introduction but one that she was not entirely opposed to because it filled her with the impulse of further explorations.