NOTES: This is a Christmas-themed CFNM female-of-male body worship story with no male/female sexual activity. All of the characters featured and mentioned in the story are over the age of eighteen. This is a work of complete fiction. Happy Holidays!
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It was a drizzling, wet Christmas Eve in Sydney, Australia. I was mildly drunk after enjoying a few seasonal drinks with friends at a local pub, and was on my way home.
But being a perennially libidinous exhibitionist who loves getting his gear off for groups of women in public, I'm always on the lookout for naughty fun.
I'm 25-years-old, gym-fit, and very, very well hung, so I've had many highly arousing experiences.
The pub that I'd just left was in a large shopping area not too far from the beach, with a few other bars closing up nearby.
I optimistically hoped that I might pass a group of drunken girls on their way home ready for some cheeky fun, but the rain had literally put a dampener on Christmas Eve this year.
The only other people around were either quickly jumping into cabs or quietly beginning their walk home.
It looked like my Christmas Eve would be a sexually uneventful one, but I decided to have a quick wander around just in case a sleazy situation of some kind presented itself.
A few weeks prior, I'd been pantsed and jerked off by a devout Muslim woman on a public bus, so anything was possible!
I walked up and down the deserted open air shopping mall in quiet hope, but there was nobody around except for a homeless woman camped out underneath a shop awning to escape the light rain.
I still had a pocketful of cash after my evening out, so I thought I'd end the night by exhibiting a little last minute Christmas spirit.
I decided to ask the homeless woman if she wanted some cash, or something to eat from the nearby convenience store, which was the only place still open for business.
"Merry Christmas," I said with as friendly a smile as I could muster. "How's it going?"
"I'm alright, mate," the homeless woman said, her voice deep, scratchy and obviously ravaged by what looked to be years spent outside on the street. "Yeah, I'm doin' okay. Merry Christmas to you too, eh. Havin' a good night, mate?"
"Yeah, pretty good," I replied. "I'm just on my way home. Can I get you something to eat? Or can I give you some cash? Something for Christmas?"
"That's very kind of you, mate," the woman croaked. "But I'm pretty okay for food right now. I'll be eatin' for a fuckin' week, mate!"
With that, the homeless woman pulled back a tattered old blanket on the ground next to her to reveal a huge stash of sandwiches, milk cartons, donuts, biscuits, packaged salads, chips and various goodies that had obviously been gifted to her by other Christmas-inspired Good Samaritans.
"Shit, you've really scored tonight," I said, and held out a $50 note. "How about some cash? Buy something for yourself tomorrow."
"Yeah, thanks, I can always do with some cash," the woman rasped, and plucked the note from my fingers. "Thanks, mate, very kind indeed. I'm Daphne, by the way."
"Nice to meet you Daphne," I said. "I'm Matt."
Daphne had long, curly, slightly matted grey hair, and could have been aged anywhere between fifty and seventy.
She was dressed in a filthy hoodie, battered track suit pants, and ripped up sneakers. Her face was weather-beaten, cracked with deep lines and wrinkles, and caked with ground-in dirt.
Daphne did, however, have vivid, lively blue eyes and surprisingly full lips. Her teeth were heavily stained and yellow, but as far as homeless women went, Daphne didn't look too bad.
The fact that I actually noticed this proved beyond any shadow of a doubt that I was a complete and utter sex addict.
What looked like Daphne's life's possessions were arranged all around her on several big, flat pieces of cardboard.
There was a sleeping bag, shopping satchels packed with all manner of things, a banged up old portable stereo, and assorted lumpen piles of rags and old clothing.
There was also a large Santa Claus figurine with a missing arm, which propped up a hand-scrawled cardboard sign that read, "Homeless lady. My life's a mess. Please help out with what you can. Merry Christmas."
Daphne reached into her pocket and pulled out half a cigarette, which she promptly stuck between her dry lips. She lit it up with a disposable lighter and looked up at me with a strained smile.
"Well, hello, Matt," Daphne replied, and slowly looked me up and down, almost like she was checking me out. "Too bad about the fuckin' rain, huh?"
"Yeah, it's terrible, but it's slowed down a lot," I said. "Is there anything else you need? Anything I can do?"
"Well," Daphne cackled, and blew out a thick stream of smoke. "I've got heaps of food and money, and I'm already drunk, but maybe..."
"What can I do?" I asked helpfully. "It's Christmas."
"You're a pretty good lookin' young rooster," Daphne chuckled, more smoke billowing from her mouth. "You know what would make this a nice fuckin' Christmas for me? If you'd undo your fuckin' pants and give me a look at your old fella."
"Um, what did you say?" I asked in shock. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. This homeless woman had just asked to see my cock. "What was that?"
"I said," Daphne rasped, looked me right in the eye, and pointed at me with her cigarette. "If you really want to do something for me for Christmas, you can undo your fuckin' pants and give me a look at your old fella."
"Really?" I said in exasperation. "You want to see my penis?"
"Yeah, mate, I do," Daphne giggled. "I haven't seen a young bloke's skin flute for years. I've almost forgotten what one looks like! I know you won't fuck a horrible old bitch like me, but ya could give me a look at what's in ya dacks. What do ya reckon, Matt? Flop out the old fella for Christmas?"
"Um...yeah, okay," I replied with an excited smile. "I reckon I could do that...just because it's Christmas."
"Ha ha," Daphne wheezed, and took a drag on her smoke. "You're a good fuckin' bloke, Matt. Not many young lads would let an old sheila like me see their meat and two veg."
I was always happy to get my cock out, even for a desperate mess of a homeless woman like Daphne.
I was actually getting turned on by this bizarre and singularly sordid experience, again proving what a kinky sex addict I truly was.
But I actually wanted to take this already incredibly sleazy encounter a little bit further.
"Daphne, would you like me to take everything off for you?" I asked. "Instead of just flopping out my cock, I could take off all my clothes for you. You could have a good look at me. I'm guessing you haven't seen a young guy in the nude for a while? Would you like that?"
"Fuckin' hell," Daphne cackled and croaked with prurient delight. "Of course I'd fuckin' like that! I haven't seen a bloke in the nuddy for years! You'll show me all ya big muscles? And ya bum too?"
"Yeah, everything," I replied. "I'll take it all off and you can have a real perve. We're a bit out in the open right here though. Can we go over there in that alley?"
There was an alley across the road, which was completely deserted, and out of view from the street.
Nobody would see us there, and I was confident that I'd be able to strip down nude without getting caught.
"Okay, yeah, sure thing, mate," Daphne said, and flicked her cigarette onto the wet ground. "It's your fuckin' party. Let's go."
Daphne pulled herself up off the ground and moved quickly ahead of me, walking right toward the nearby alley at a surprisingly fast clip.
She looked over her shoulder at me with a crooked smile, showing off her horribly stained and cracked teeth. As she walked, Daphne started to sing.
"Jingle balls, jingle balls, dangle all the way," she croaked out horribly. "Oh, what fun it is to see a young bloke's cock tonight, eh!"
I laughed quietly as we walked into the alley. It was wet and filthy, but well-lit by a nearby streetlight.
There was a big, lidded skip bin half-way down the alley, which would provide an extra barrier to any prying eyes or potential police patrols.
Daphne stood waiting for me at the bin, her eyes wild with excitement and her cracked lips parted in a big smile.
"Now let's get that fuckin' gear off, ya young spunk," Daphne laughed with a dry rasp. "Merry fuckin' Christmas!"
"You got it, Daphne," I giggled. "One Yuletide nude show coming right up!"
I quickly ducked behind the skip bin, and did a hasty check-around. There was nobody visible, and the big, bulky metal bin shielded us perfectly from anybody that might be passing by on the street.
I stood with my back toward a high, rain-slicked brick wall, with Daphne a few metres away from me.
Her eyes roved up and down my body, and she smiled crazily in anticipation. It truly looked like all her Christmases had come at once. I was extremely excited too.
I quickly undid the buttons of my shirt and roughly slid it off my shoulders. I folded it and gently set it on top of the lid of the skip bin.
My bare torso glistened in the haze of the nearby street light, slicked with sweat and moisture from the lightly drizzling rain.
"Fuckin' look at ya," Daphne gasped. "You're a good sort, Matt. Ya not gonna dance for me, but? Do a little strip show?"
"No, Daphne," I smiled. "I'm not gonna dance for you. I'm not a stripper! And we're out in public! I can't be dancing for you with my dick swinging around!"
"Ah, fuck ya then," Daphne said jokingly. "I want my money back...just jokin'! You're a good bloke doin' this for me, Matt."
I kicked off my trainers and then ripped my socks off quickly. I pushed them aside with my foot, and then undid my belt.