Secret Santa Stag

by Mark Gander

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Ma/Ma, Mult, Consensual, Drunk/Drugged, Gay, BiSexual, Workplace, Cheating, Revenge, Slut Wife, Incest, Brother, Sister, Father, Daughter, Rough, Gang Bang, Group Sex, Harem, Orgy, Polygamy/Polyamory, Swinging, Interracial, White Male, Hispanic Female, Anal Sex, Analingus, Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Voyeurism, Public Sex, Nudism, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: A holiday office party proves to be the beginning of a brand new life for Victor Mancini, an ambitious young editor whose women and boss all have designs on him.

So, it was about time for the annual Christmas/Holiday party, and as usual, I was more than ready to participate. Of course, I was a lapsed Catholic, but a secret pagan side of me thought of it as Yule, which was the true origin of Christmas, anyway. Anyway, the parties tended to get a little wild at our company, a publishing firm where I was one of the rising young editors. Many of us were single young adults, and it was not unheard-of for a few people to get laid at the thing each year, often in a poorly lit or even dark section of the floor where it was held (sometimes, even on the elevators or other floors, if one was shy or secretive enough).

At any rate, we also held a “secret Santa” deal for our annual festivities, and as always, I was very curious to see whose name I drew from the traditional Santa cap. It was Julia Rosenthal, a relatively new secretary fresh from Princeton, of all places, who despite her Jewish faith seemed intent on taking part with equal enthusiasm. After all, as she put it, Chanukah was already over by the time that Christmas rolled around, and she could easily fit in two or three holidays, “as well as respect all of them.”

Julia had reddish brown hair, rather curly in fact, and while her tits were somewhat on the small side, they didn’t sag and she had the legs and ass to more than make up for it. Her bright blue eyes reflected her Norwegian father, Ivar Thorvaldsen, who had divorced her mother and returned to Norway when he grew homesick and tired of the culture clash of living in New Jersey. Julia’s mother had worked for the Princeton administration and thus she had grown up as a “townie,” which made tuition and admission much easier, especially with the right strings pulled. Ivar never being around to have his input on things, Esther Rosenthal had resumed her maiden name and brought her daughter up in the Faith, albeit Conservative rather than Orthodox or Reform.

Getting Julia’s name, though not really expecting any chance of being with her, especially so soon after Beth and I broke up (during Thanksgiving, after she had expected a marriage proposal and none materialized), I made a special effort to get something far above what was expected from me. I knew for a fact that Julia was fond of antiques. Naturally, therefore, I found a particularly old music box that seemed to fit her taste and I made sure that I didn’t even plant any hints or warnings.

Now, it was never said what we had to buy, so most people bought only under a certain budget, but this was a different occasion, and perhaps I wanted Beth at least a little jealous or even hurt that she wasn’t getting anything from me this year. Most of all, though, I wanted Julia to get the sense that she mattered, at least to me. If nothing else, friendship could develop from acquaintance, and I certainly wouldn’t mind having her as a friend.

Well, I wasn’t ready for what would follow from the chain of events that occurred at the party, which opened with some light eats, some wine, some spirits, some egg nog, some punch, some tea, and some coffee, depending on one’s taste. I poured myself a brandy, in fact, and was sipping it just a little when Beth approached me with a surprising smile on her face. Being the most junior editor on the staff, Beth might under normal circumstances have been intimidated by me, but we had been lovers for about three months when the dreaded Thanksgiving Fiasco occurred and she dumped me for it.

Oddly enough, even though she supposedly found a new boyfriend on the rebound, a douchebag insurance salesman named Chad Hughes, Beth had scarcely concealed her interest in my comings and goings. Even so, given her seeming jealousy and my refusal to avoid female company, I didn’t expect a smile from her that actually seemed sweet. I was instantly suspicious and on my guard, yet she didn’t hesitate to approach me in spite of my obvious caution and mistrust.

“So, going stag to a Christmas party, Victor?” Beth, as always, used my full given name instead of shortening it to “Vic,” which was a rare personality quirk that she shared, oddly enough, with Julia.

“Same with you, as it happens. Where’s Chad?” I observed, feeling guarded still.

“Oh, honey, when are you going to ever learn? Some relationships are real, meaningful, and serious. Some boyfriends matter. And some are like Chad. Shallow, stupid, and more than a little vain,” Beth smiled coyly, “Of course, I think that even as dense as he is, not being invited to the Christmas Party should be the sign that this was just a wild and crazy fling.”

“A fling, eh? So, it was just to pass the time?” I asked curiously, even as Beth got ever close to me, her hands getting a little too close for comfort, even as her face invaded my personal space.

“No, silly, it was to make you jealous!” Beth laughed, now brushing dangerously close to me as she closed the distance and gave me a light, but quite public kiss on the lips.

“So, all boyfriends are not created equal, then,” I mused, trying to let my discomfort combined with my arousal too obvious.

“Most emphatically not! Since when would a mindless, corporate drone like Chad Hughes, who has the IQ of a walnut, ever be the equal to a deep thinker like Victor Mancini, no matter how frustrating I find the level of your profundity at times? You should really know better than that, dear,” Beth said now, kissing me yet again.

“That’s two kisses now, Beth. One could construe this as sexual harassment,” I smirked, but I returned the kiss in spite of my protests.

“One might, but not you. I know better. You know better. You’re Victor Humbert Mancini, and you’re nobody’s victim or fool. You kiss no one that you don’t mean to kiss, and you know that you want to kiss Zoe Elizabeth Mantarakis, don’t you? You still want me, and let’s be blunt here, not all girlfriends are created equal, either, are they, Victor?

“Not even Rosa Cruz, though she’s a lot smarter than Chad Hughes. You’d take her more seriously, if you didn’t know that she was still in love with her husband and is at least a little bit of a good Catholic girl that way. I bet that you fucked her, though. I bet that she was damn good in bed, though so was Chad, I must admit, in his clumsy, raw talented, untutored way,” Beth grinned devilishly at me, even as I shrugged.

“She’s a married woman and I always wanted to fuck one, plus I hate her husband for how he treats her,” I observed, “I’m glad that Chad was a great lay for you, just as Rosa was for me. And, yes, she was that fucking good. Plenty of Latin heat to her. I don’t know how long this affair will last before Catholic guilt overtakes her, so I will enjoy her until that happens. Anyway, what’s this about, honey?”

“This, baby, is a game that you’ll figure out soon enough, but when you do, you can bet your sweet ass that you’ll be glad that you did. You’re a man, yes, so can be dense about women at times, though admittedly, we women can be obtuse in our own ways. Overcomplicating the simplicity of men has that effect, I guess. Even so, you’re probably the smartest man that I know in person, so you’ll get it, dear. For now, let the games begin. Oh, by the way, you’ve been standing under mistletoe,” Beth noted the mistletoe dangling above me all this time.

“Guess that means that I can get a freebie, then,” Rosa spoke behind us, as she planted one on me, “By the way, here’s my panties. Feel free to do whatever you want with them. Just remember that I’ll never take them back from you. They’re your panties now. Consider them my Christmas gift to you. And no, I’m not your secret Santa, but I would gladly be your naughty Elf.”

“My turn,” Julia winked at me as she gave me a light peck on the mouth, too, “Sorry, boss, but you ARE standing under mistletoe. I gotta give you a kiss. I love that rule!”

“Alright, now, I refuse to be left out of the fun!” another voice joined in, and the next thing that I knew, my mouth was invaded by the lips and tongue of Heather Aston, a relatively new intern on the company staff.

“Okay, that was damn good, but to what do I owe the pleasure?” I naturally inquired.

“Well, I’m public property now, so feel free to make use of me. We have about ten to fifteen minutes until they call us together for the gift exchange, so how about you bend me over and take me, dear Mr. Mancini? The copy room should be remote enough for our needs,” Heather invited me as she took my hand and led me to the copy room.

Before I knew it, my pants were down to my knees and my cock had taken Heather like it was old hat to me! My every thrust was met by her own, as she frantically took me deeper on each stroke. That we were doing this bareback didn’t bother me in the least, as I was more than drunk enough to enjoy Heather without such complications interfering with our pleasure.

“Oh, God, this was every bit as great as Beth assured me that it would be!” Heather exclaimed as she squeezed my dick and squirted all over me.

“What do you mean, Heather?” I asked her as my cock shot out my seed inside her.

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