Clutching the scrap of paper that had been handed to me last night and wondering what the hell I was doing here I tapped three hard short knocks on the door, lamenting to the shop bought Christmas wreath that 'yes it was that time of year again'.
When approached last night I had been in a terrible mood, whether this was obvious or not I have no idea, presumably, it was written in capitals across my chest as the only person who approached me was the stranger who gave me this paper and disappeared back into the frosty night.
Around the Christmas period (before and after) I suggest that there are three types of people; A) Those like the miser scrooge; This type dread Christmas with a 'bah-humbug' type of attitude; B) Those who are like excitable children; Counting down the days from the start of advent to the big day in a hyper active, impenetrable vortex and C) Those who have no one and no body to celebrate with and so mimic the characteristics of the first person I mentioned.
I fall somewhere in between numbers one and three, not quite knowing how much of my distaste towards Christmas is genuinely there or part of an automatic defence mechanism, put in place by hurt after so many lonely Christmas's.
Knowing myself and knowing that I am usually such a 'sissy, never-try-anything-new' type of girl I was surprising myself with each step I took away from the bus stop towards my current destination and now I stood at the door waiting to enter I felt nothing short of shock. Adding to the unusualness of the situation was the outfit I had chosen to wear. As a rule I only wore anything 'sexy' if put under a lot of pressure from girlfriends and was much more comfortable in loose jeans and baggy T-shirts. Tonight though I had dressed up, and as I hadn't told anyone where I was going or about my chance encounter with the sexy guy in the street last night, I had no one to blame but myself. Trying to look inconspicuous on the doorstep of a house on a street that looked like something out of the Stepford Wives was not easy. Knowing that under the leather knee length trench coat I had chosen not to wear pants, or anything else, made me grip the bottom of the coat against my thighs nervously.
The house I was standing outside of had no exceptional qualities in comparison to the other detached houses lining the small cul-de-sac. The size, shape and mostly the design of the small front gardens copied each other in uniformly distasteful Christmas decorations. The garden belonging to this house, on the left of where I stood was home to a giant, neon, Santa sleigh and only one reindeer. Looking like a cross between a horse and a donkey, I only identified it as a reindeer because of its shiny red nose!
After what seemed like an age, the door opened, dragging me out of my dreamy, observant state. I was face to face with the guy who had handed me the mysterious note with only this address written on it, looking at him I knew exactly why I had taken a chance and come to meet him.
Tonight he was dressed in scruffy, drain-pipe jeans pulled tight across his skinny hips and a plain T-shirt. This guy was indeed hot!
"I'm Jack", he introduced. He offered me a rough hand shaking it, I told him my name was Carla inwardly cursing myself. I'd just told a complete stranger my real name, so much for the fantasy element of our meeting! In the past 24 hours when I had been thinking about this meeting I had always used a much sexier name; usually Lolita! Well, too late now.
Turning to let me follow him into the house, I was transfixed by Jacks beautiful arse, causing me to almost trip on the Persian carpet covering the wooden floor in the hall. Cursing myself inwardly again, this time for being such a clutz I stared at the floor, too nervous to pay proper attention to my surroundings.
Handing me a black carrier bag, the type that porn films are always packaged in and asking me to get ready Jack held out his arm indicating that I should enter the room on my left. Cramped and dimly lit, there was nothing very exciting about the room I now stood in; my heart was beating incredibly fast. As if Jack knew that I was desperate to look in the bag he had handed me he quietly left the room.
Kneeling down on the plush red carpet I removed the lamp and a few make up items from the upturned box that was serving as a table. Frantically shaking the bag upside down onto the table and piling its contents on top of each other, I realised that I was expected to wear the outfit I saw. I took off the coat, naked now except for the knee-high boots and stroked the latex skirt. My nipples stood erect despite the room being quite warm.
I had to wiggle into the green skirt, inching it up my arse. It was barely worth wearing; I could stroke my pussy without even lifting it up. I contemplated stroking myself to an orgasm there and then, I was surely horny enough but decided to wait. Jack had promised me a Christmas to remember and I was eager to find out if he could live up to that promise. For some reason I attracted guys who were into the missionary only position and that didn't really do it for me! The top Jack had given me was more modest, long sleeves and a tight cut, exposing only the tops of my bra-less breasts. I liked the way it clung to the curve of my pert breasts and the way my nipples pointed through the green fabric. There were only two more items of clothing to put on now, a small pointy green hat and some silk hold-ups. The hold-ups left quite a lot of flesh exposed between their lacy tops and the bottom of the skirt, showing a strip of pale flesh. There was a small mirror on the wall, but the room was so small that I could only see the top half of my body in it. I shook out my hair and ruffled it up a little bit. Putting on the hat, I looked quite the part. My blond hair, messily framed my heart shaped face and my blue eyes shone, probably because of lusty anticipation. I couldn't see any shoes: not wanting to put my boots back on and ruin the outfit I took small restricted steps around the room, smiling to myself that I was even the right height for an elf.
Thinking that now was probably the time to leave the room I took a deep breath, turned the door handle and headed in the opposite direction of the front door. The corridor was as dimly lit as the room I had just left, the shadows created by the tall candles leapt across by body and made me feel warm. My feet gently padded along the carpet... I was barely breathing, trying to listen for any clues as to what would happen to me. Where was Jack?
Coming to a dead end other than for a spiral staircase leading downwards, I had no other option but to go down. Without hoisting the skirt up above my hips I was unable to spread my legs and so it took a long time to get down the stairs. Still I saw nobody else. Now though the air was filled with Christmas music. I rolled my eyes as I heard the familiar chant of Jingle Bells...I hoped that where ever I was, alcohol would not be in short supply!
At the bottom of the stairs there was only one door, the music was louder as I approached here. Without knocking I pushed open the door.