Christmas Eve

by Alicia Bishop

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Heterosexual, Fiction, Cheating, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Slow, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: After accidentally renewing a friendship with an old high school sweetheart, Rhonda began to fantasize about him. It went on for some time, but she never knew that there were those who had fantasies about her, too. Until Christmas Eve!


"What a mess!"

Rhonda looked around and slowly shook her head. She could only blame herself. She was standing in the break room of the credit union of which she was manager. As a little Christmas Eve gift for all her employees she had volunteered to be the one who stayed late to do the final cleanup before she left for home. It was a little after four in the afternoon and she had plans for later in the evening. She had assumed that it would take only minutes to clean up after the little informal social gathering that had been ongoing all day.

Whoops! She had badly underestimated her offer. Being too busy to actually check it out at days end, she had assumed that it would be nothing more than a touchup. In reality, it was a bloody mess. She smiled to herself. No wonder they were so anxious to leave in a hurry. Not only was it Christmas Eve and the start of a rare three day weekend but evidently everybody but her knew the real situation in there. Once they were all gone and the doors locked, then and only then had she surveyed the situation.

She sighed in resignation. Not all was lost. Roger had called and said that he was having to stay a little late at his office, too. Their two daughters were already having fun over at Grandma's while waiting for she and Roger to arrive later that evening for a little social gathering. What the heck! She had a little spare time.

As she looked about to see where to get started she glanced at herself in the full length mirror attached to one wall. Even though that mirror got a lot of attention from the other girls in the office she rarely had time to gaze at herself. She hesitated for a few seconds, slowly turning from side to side to get a better look.

"Not a bad body for thirty eight," she hopefully thought to herself.

Actually, she knew that her body looked great! But her attire was something else, though. "Holiday tacky" may have been the best description. For the third year in a row she was wearing the same dark green dress heavily decorated with Christmas trimmings and featuring huge pockets that, given any day besides Christmas eve, would have been obnoxious. As it was, it was fun and she got a lot of compliments. Especially from her male customers.

Her hem line fell demurely and loosely to mid calf, but the loose top was low cut and dipped brazenly when she leaned over. Although she was more than aware of the riveted attention paid to her breasts by her male customers, Rhonda had no idea that it wasn't just the males who couldn't tear their eyes away from the feasting provided by the low cut dress. Always, every year and away from her ears, all the other girls buzzed about the exposure, the blatant sexuality that she projected. It wasn't just that she was exposed ... it was what she was exposing!

Rhonda Williams had some magnificent tits!

Big ones. Full ones. Ones that somehow, even through the years and two children, were as firm as they were large. Too large for her own liking at times but she knew as well as others that the men loved them. Roger more than any. Having said that, she always felt that as punishment for being so gifted up top that nature had given her a little too much butt, too. Again she was in luck there. It was noticeable but it was pretty firm. She wasn't kidding herself into believing that over the years gravity hadn't taken at least a smidgen of effect but, all in all, she was lucky. Thank God for her long legs! She knew damned well that if she were another three inches shorter that ass would appear too much instead of sexy.

As she moved slowly and watched herself she felt the throbbing between her legs that had been there all day. Her face reddened as she entertained a thought.

She wondered what all these men and women would have thought if they could have imagined or seen what she was wearing underneath the holiday garb.

Actually, she acknowledged that some had already been given at least a preview ... a sampling of her hidden attire. That day her breasts had been served to the lucky few as if on a platter!

Her attire even went further than that!

That morning Roger had left earlier than she, off to a breakfast meeting that "couldn't wait." But as she walked naked out of the shower and approached the holiday dress that had been laid out carefully on her bed she saw that Roger had left her a little surprise. She had smiled at his little offering, knowing it was a suggestion of things to come.

Laid out carefully on top of her dress was a pair of sheer red thigh high stockings that would actually accent her attire. With the dress being the length it was, only she would know how naughty she was being. The same was true of the tiny green and red thong that would conceal nothing of her but would in itself be concealed from others.

The third item wasn't so easy to conceal. She picked it up and looked at it carefully, her breath becoming long and deep as she studied it. The panties and stockings were one thing. They would be hidden from prying eyes. But this???

There was absolutely no way in this world that she could totally protect her breasts from the eyes of others while wearing the white transparent demi bra that was so low cut, so revealing, that the top of her nipples would surely be exposed!

Slowly, carefully, sensually, she tried everything on. For a few minutes the innocent gaudy dress would lie untouched. It wasn't being ignored ... it just couldn't compete. Or so she thought!!

It would be the first of many times that day that her breathing would be heavy, her heart rate fast. First the stockings had been slid slowly up each leg, smoothed and stretched with a feather touch. Then the tiny thong. How "Christmassy" if there was such a word. A blending of light green and red that covered exactly nothing, so sheer that you could see every pubic hair it was pretending to conceal. Tufts of soft light brown hair escaped in all directions before the tiny string disappeared behind, hiding in the crack of her ass as if it wasn't there before reappearing again to join the fragile band around her waist.

She had smiled. This was definitely a gift from "Santa" meant for Santa Claus's self pleasure.

But the real problem was the bra. Under the best of days she showed cleavage. Lots of it. But this was impossible. He had to be kidding. She slipped it on and moved around from side to side, leaning over, standing up. There was no way. She would be grabbing the back of her dress all day when she leaned over, pulling the top of her dress taunt in order to conceal her charms. Even before she had tried it on she surmised that the top of her nipples might be exposed. There was no "might." They were almost totally exposed and she wasn't sure that, considering she had to move around to conduct business in that thing, they wouldn't come all the way out. She shuddered at the thought of that bra giving way and allowing her breasts to slide out, leaving them totally without cover or support.

She turned slowly. She dipped slightly, than once again even deeper as if leaning over a desk. She never let her eyes leave the image on her mirror.

She again shuddered slightly, unable to ignore the sensation slowly permeating her senses. This couldn't be happening, could it?

The fingertips of her right hand slid slowly down, invading the top of the tiny thong that was so low cut that the path to her clitoris was short indeed. Her exploring digits were on a rescue mission, her senses reporting to her brain that there was a desperate clit in distress, one that in the past few minutes had suddenly become swollen and sensitive.

Not really sensitive, she conceded.

"Begging" would be a better word.

The strokes were slow, gentle ... time restraints dictating that it would only be a teasing. The full experience, the impending explosion, would have to wait until later.

But Rhonda knew herself and her body very well. Even at seven in the morning she already knew that there was a high possibility that she would cheat sometime during that day. Her body was too much on fire to withstand the entire day without compromise, especially knowing what was concealed under that dress ... if she could keep it concealed. She already knew that there would be times during the day that she would find ways to tease, to gently stroke. The restroom. Under her desk. Maybe even through the large, deep pockets of the silly dress. It would take very little to push her over the top. And she looked forward to it!

Evidently, so did Roger! Enough so that he provided a little "push."

She had quickly got dressed and barely made it out of the house on time. As she got out of her car at work and dropped her keys into her right pocket they fell straight to the ground. Slowly, she slipped her right hand into her pocket. It went straight through her pocket and inside her dress! The inside of her right pocket had been removed, allowing her hand to go directly to her sensitive stomach.

ROGER!!! She laughed loudly. That son of a bitch had pulled out all the stops! He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn't be able to resist the temptation.

Her hand would have unimpeded access to what they both knew would be a quivering clit. He would be right!!!

That had been then, early that morning.

And now, many hours later as she stood alone late in the afternoon, she had proved her earlier suspicions to be right. In many ways.

Early on in the day she had given up the fight with her cleavage. No telling how many men walked out of that institution with a hard on from a special visual Christmas gift from the branch manager. The girls chattered, a couple of them masking their own secret personal reactions to the lush, sexy invitation.

.... There is more of this story ...

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