Secret Santa

This is not a sexually explicit tale. It has some nice descriptive passages of a woman and her clothing - but that's about it . . .

*

"Samantha Brown." The name sent a shiver through me. I couldn't believe my luck. What were the chances of that? I put the slip of paper into my jacket pocket and carried on into the elevator. I put my hand into my pocket and rubbed the slip between my thumb and finger.

Samantha Brown had been consuming all my thoughts recently; ever since I had to venture down to the basement to look for a missing file. Petite build, maybe 5' 2" but with lovely long legs. My perfect woman. That first time I saw her I knew she was special. That she had some connection to me. I was rooting through the ancient pre-computer files; thinking I was almost certainly being sent on a wild goose chase. Then she came in and I knew it was Karma.

Still ostensibly searching through the filing cabinet I watched her as she carried out a similar operation in a neighbouring cabinet. Blonde hair cut in a bob, framing her elfin face. It was really well cut and I watched it caress her shoulders as she looked in the drawer. She wore a fuchsia pink blouse, open at the neck and as she stood up I could see the swell of her pert breasts; I saw the smooth creamy skin at her throat and wanted to cover it with kisses. Right there in the old records room.

Her lips were not full but she wore a frosty pink lipstick that I so wanted to taste. She was frowning as she searched for something and her brow furrowed slightly, sweetly. Then she smiled suddenly, revealing perfectly even white teeth. I wanted to feel those teeth on me. She extracted her file, slammed the drawer shut; making me cry out in surprise. Then it was her turn; she obviously had no idea I was there and she dropped the file. I rushed over, apologising and got down on my knees to pick up the scattered papers.

On the ground at her feet I saw her shoes: black and shiny with a pretty decent heel on them. I so wanted to reach out and touch them. And run my hand up her calves. I looked up at her and that frown was back again. I stood up quickly and gave her the file. She took it with a brief 'thank you' and left me there; mouth open and heart beating fast. Not the best of introductions. But I did my homework and found out all about her.

I found myself preferring the water cooler on her floor and that last time managed to arrive there as she was chatting to a fat female colleague. I recognised my angel immediately; even from behind. Apart from her beautiful hair, gold and sparkly due to the overhead lighting, she was wearing that long sleeved green jumper that she occasionally wore. This was a favourite of mine as it really emphasised her green eyes. It looked like it was angora or something; it was fluffy and so soft. I had accidentally brushed up against her in the elevator some time previously and the softness of the sleeve had fuelled my night time fantasies for weeks.

Watching her at the water cooler with her shiny black heels and glossy black pantyhose (maybe even stockings -- in my dreams they were always stockings with a red and black garter belt, the suspenders pulled taut against her smooth thighs), her close fitting straight black skirt that accentuated her firm ass, (and a black lacy covered ass it was too; the number of times I had grasped her ass and felt the lace against my hands; at least in my imagination). Her bra too was matching; low cut black lace that complimented her creamy skin. Then the green snuggly jumper that embraced her body so completely.

Her frumpy colleague nudged her and she turned around to look at me. Poor girl. There was that worried frowny face that I'd seen so often recently. I had heard that she was having problems at home too; going through a 'difficult time' apparently. I swore I saw tears in her eyes. She must have been unburdening herself to that older plain looking woman. I felt such pity for my golden haired darling; such hatred for the man that was making her feel so unhappy.

So when I pulled her name out of the Secret Santa hat I knew exactly what I should do. I knew exactly what present she would like. What she needed.

I looked online and found the perfect one. It promised the user would be able to "experience an unbelievable intense stimulation. Arousal of the clitoris is an additional feature due to the mount directly behind the user controls. The G-spot can be effortlessly tantalised and massaged through the curved shape."

I ordered it and it came. I wrapped it carefully and labelled it even more so; these presents were supposed to be anonymous but I'd put a little note inside. She had to know how much I cared for her. I was almost sick with excitement on the day of the party. I dressed with more care than usual; I wanted to look nice for her. I knew she would be looking beautiful. And she was.

A shiny purple dress that draped across her luscious breasts, accentuating their shape and firmness. The dress was low cut at the back, revealing her flawless skin and almost, but not quite, the top of her sweet buttocks. Her hair was waved and glittered almost under the big lights. She wore stockings that had seams running straight up the back of her legs; straight up to those firm, smooth thighs. I drove myself crazy imagining that strip of naked flesh above the top of her stockings. I couldn't wait for her to open her gift and acknowledge me.

The moment came. I waited impatiently as we were all called up, one by one, to receive our Secret Santa gifts. My own lay unopened on the table. Irrelevant. My eyes fixed on her table.

'Samantha Brown?' her name was called by the MD in his ill fitting Santa suit and my heart leapt. My pulse quickened and I broke out in a sweat as I prepared myself. She stood up and strode purposefully towards Santa. Her brown sensible shoes clumping across the carpet. Her everyday tweed skirt suit looking as frumpy as ever. She took the gift. Samantha's gift. And sat down, tearing the wrapping off greedily. Her table erupted in laughter and she turned to me, a stern look on her face. She held up my note and shook it at me, tutting and shaking her head.

And then she winked at me.