The Christmas Dream - Cover

The Christmas Dream

Copyright© 2015 by Lostlady

Chapter 2: The Enlightenment

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2: The Enlightenment - When a self centered pawn broker falls asleep while watching "A Christmas Carol" on television, she has a rather strange Dickensian dream.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Prostitution  

The bad memories had left Marge shaken. She stared at the floor lost in thought. What, if anything was coming next? Whatever it was, she was sure she didn't want to see it.

"OK Marge, time for the here and now that I mentioned."

Marge nodded her head and looked up. Another wave of his hand and the fog began to dissipate. It was a room she didn't recognize, a figure was sitting in a chair. As the image cleared she saw it was a man in a wheelchair. She looked at Bill quizzically.

"Jill's apartment." He took another sip from his glass. "That's her husband, the one from the car wreck. Kind of a wreck himself, huh? Surprised you didn't recognize him."

"I never met him."

"Well, that would explain it."

Marge winced when she heard him. He was right, she'd known Jill and worked with her for over 17 years, she should know more about her. Then Jill entered the room, dressed to the nines. Heavily made up, she was wearing a low cut cocktail dress with a silken scarf around her neck. A pair of stiletto heeled shoes completed her ensemble. Marge had to admit, the girl looked hot.

Jill walked over to her husband. "Well, how do I look? Not too bad for an old broad, don't you think?"

"You look great, and there's nothing old about you."

"Hey, I'm competing against prom queens for clients. Trust me, in this racket I'm an old broad." With that she sat down on his lap and kissed him. "Hate to leave you on Christmas Eve, but we've got a couple of high rollers booked for tonight. They tip big to begin with, and on Christmas, I think they'll be extra generous."

"God, I wish you didn't have to do this. I can't help but feel guilty; you wouldn't have to if it weren't for me."

"I know hon, but don't feel that way. You'd do the same for me if things were the other way around."

He broke into a smile. "Do you really think people would pay me money to have sex with them?"

"No, handsome, probably not, but the agency does have a gay clientele list if you want to give it a try." She laughed as she messed his hair playfully. "Don't think you'd like it much, though."

"What would they do? Hang me bare assed over a railing and have at it?" Then he became serious, "It still isn't right, you shouldn't have to be doing this. I don't understand why you don't talk to Marge and see if she could help."

"Because, she's paying my salary and the company insurance is paying the major bills. To her mind that's plenty. Besides, I can't risk pissing her off and having her fire me. Where would we be then?"

Marge turned to Bill, "I wouldn't do that."

"Are you sure?"

"No," she paused, then sadly, "But I don't think I would."

Bill looked at her and shrugged. "If you're not sure then how the hell is that poor girl supposed to know. She's got too much at stake to risk crossing you."

She heard Jill telling her husband, "It's just a job, honey, that's all. Think of it that way. Like when you were in the hospital, the nurses and the orderlies that washed you and cleaned you up, emptied your bedpan. This is the same in a way. I'm not making love to these people, just giving them sexual relief. It's only a job, an unpleasant one, granted, but a job."

Marge's voice was little more than a whisper. "How long, Bill? How did it start."

"About eight, nine months ago. Jill was behind with her bills, and looking for a night job. She signed on with an escort service. Then she found out it was a front for a call girl service and that the real money was to be made in the bedroom. When they offered her a chance to entertain a client who wanted a girl in her thirties, she took it and has been at it ever since."

"But a whore? That's not like her."

"Hey, tough times make people do a lot of things that are out of character for them. Don't judge her. She's not judging you. She could, but I didn't hear one derogatory word when she told him why she wouldn't ask you for help."

Chastened, Marge looked down and nodded her head. She heard Jill tell her husband that her brother was going to be home all night if he needed anything. He told her he didn't need a babysitter, he could maneuver around the house well enough on his own. Marge wondered if she would have that kind of courage if it was her in the wheelchair.

Bill gave a wave of his hand and they were looking at two men sitting in a hotel room. It was a large room, a suite actually, with a couch and a couple of easy chairs. Both were drinking. Looking at the bottle on the table, he turned to her.

"Johnnie Walker, these guys have class." He took another drink from his glass.

Then there was a knock on the door and one of them got up and opened it. Jill and another woman walked in.

"Hi guys, we're friend of Jamie's. I'm Crystal, this is Amber." There was a friendly tone in Jill's voice.

"Crystal and Amber huh? I'm Salt and he's Pepper." The man in the chair was trying to be funny.

"Sorry guys, there was no Mr. Salt or Mr. Pepper supposed to be here. Come on Amber, we've disturbed these two gentlemen long enough." Her voice was friendly but firm, she turned to leave.

"Wait, wait," the man at the door spoke quickly, "don't go. He's Chuck and I'm Bob. Chuck was just trying to make a joke, you know, to break the ice."

"OK Amber, sounds like we're in the right place. Sorry guys, we don't joke about the names. We have to be sure we're meeting the right people. And you don't really have to break the ice; Jamie broke it for you when you paid him." With that the women took off their coats.

"You girls like a drink? We've got scotch and there's a bottle of champagne icing in the cooler."

Amber's head jerked around quickly, "Champagne sounds good to me, what do you say Crystal?"

Jill nodded her head, "I could go for some myself, if you don't mind."

From there it all seemed fairly innocuous, almost like four people on a date. They drank their drinks, told jokes, Jill, or Crystal as she was calling herself, got the men to talking about their jobs. All fairly normal and kind of boring until Chuck ran his hand up Amber's dress. Then the games began. Jill got up and turned out some of the lights, only leaving one lamp lit. Amber had quickly shed her clothes and started undressing Chuck. Walking towards the couch, Jill reached behind her and unzipped her dress, stepping out of it. Wearing only panties, a garter belt, stockings, and the scarf, she sat on the couch where Bob joined her. Marge was astounded at how fast things were moving, it was as if someone had thrown a switch and the women went to work. She reminded herself they were professionals.

Jill turned to Bob, "What do you think? Stockings and garter belt on or off?"

"They look good, but now I've seen them. Personally I like the feel of bare skin. I say off."

"Your wish is my command." She undid the clasps and rolled off her stockings. Looking at Bob, she smiled and tossed one at him teasingly.

"What's this, a souvenir?"

"Christmas present," she laughed. Unhooking her garter belt, she removed it and angled herself towards him. She tapped the front of her panties. "I'll let you unwrap the rest of your present yourself."

Marge watched as he eagerly removed Jill's underpants and ran his hands over her body. Then leaning forward, began fondling her breasts. When he began kissing them, Jill pulled him close and rested her cheek on the top of his head; a perfect display of pretend affection. If she wasn't aware of the situation, Marge would have thought they were a couple of lovers. Jill was apparently as good at this job as she was at the one down at the "Retail & Loan".

Then, raising her head, she tapped Bob's shoulder and pointed. "Look at Amber go."

Rising up from her chest, he turned to look. Using the armless wooden chair that had been in front of the dresser, Amber had straddled Chuck, facing him, and was rising up and down on his cock rapidly, shimmying and twisting wildly. Chuck's hands were at his sides, clutching the chair where the back and the seat met, trying in vain to match her hip movements. It was as if somebody had set her for high speed and turned her loose; it was really an impressive display of sexual dexterity.

"Oh shit!" was all Bob could say as he watched her ass bouncing and shaking on Chuck's lap. It was almost a blur. All Chuck could do was moan.

"It's her specialty. I've tried doing it, but I don't have her coordination. Wish I did, just to find out what it feels like."

"I'll describe it to you after I get my turn with her."

"No," she smiled, "I meant for a woman. It must be wild."

"And hey, what's your specialty?"

"Love," she tapped him lightly on the nose. "Hot blooded, sweaty, physical love."

"I'm for that," he proclaimed and began taking off his clothes. When he finished undressing, he reached out and tugged at her scarf. "This would be a nicer present than a stocking. You know, something to hang on my rearview mirror, sort of like a good luck charm."

Jill took off the scarf and flipped it over the back of his neck, pulling on the ends until his face was close to hers. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and whispered, "It's all yours lover, Merry Christmas."

Marge watched quietly as Jill slid down lower on the couch while Bob twisted into position over her. Knees bent, heels dug into the cushions, she waited for him with her arms outstretched. He lowered his hips and pushed forward as his cock stabbed into her waiting pussy. She embraced him briefly and then began caressing his back and hips, emitting a soft moan every time his stiff prick shot forward inside her. Just then Marge heard Bob groan loudly as he came, followed by Amber's giggle. She looked over at the couple in the chair. Amber had leaned back slightly and was looking down at him. Both were smiling.

"How'd ya' like the ride honey?"

"Hell, God damnedest thing I ever did encounter; kind of like sticking my dick into the paint mixer down at the hardware store. Shit!"

Turning back, Marge saw Bob give a couple of hard thrusts into Jill as he came, and then relaxed. Jill ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, the other continued to rub his back while she pressed her cheek against his. She sighed lovingly in his ear; she was the consummate professional. As they disengaged and sat up, Chuck came around with the bottles of scotch and champagne refreshing everyone's drinks. More practical, Amber came back with some hand towels from the bathroom.

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