Its A Christmas Carol

Hi Folks, Last year's Christmas story was full of evil pooping reindeer and a foul mouthed Santa. That's almost normal compared to this one. Those of you who are looking for a lot of sex might want to pass this one by. Those of you who want a traditional Christmas divorce story might want to follow suit. But for those of you who want to take a walk on the weird side..Enjoy. Merry Christmas All. And thanks to Sir Charles5150 for editing this one and to Mikothebaby for continuing to inspire. SS06

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It all started out the way everything did. It was a typical day in late December. I was very concerned with my last ditch effort at trying to meet my sales goals for the year. So much so, that the fact that it was only three days before Christmas had completely escaped me.

I looked around the small warehouse that my company currently occupied and settled on several of my employees who weren't busting their asses. I got off of the phone and headed for them. We weren't going to sell any car parts with them lollygagging. At the rate things were going, I'd probably have to call them back to work the day after Christmas.

At the same time that I moved towards them, a slim figure with long red curls that stretched nearly to her ass moved to intercept me. This time though, she was too late. By the time she placed one delicate hand on my shoulder to calm me down I was already in mid rant.

"Exactly how are we supposed to meet our sales goals if all of my salesmen are hanging out in the middle of the floor doing nothing?" I screamed.

"But Ev, we were trying to decide what to..." began Rob, one of my oldest employees. Rob was my older sister's son, so technically he was my nephew. The weird thing about it was that my parents had remained frisky into their later years so my nephew was actually a year older than I am.

"Were you working?" I snapped.

"Well, uh...no, Uncle Ev," he said. His shoulders slumped and he looked down at his shoes.

"Well uh...get your asses back to work, or nephew or not I'll fire all of you," I screamed. I was beginning to work myself into a tizzy when that same little red headed ball of fire yanked me away from the guys and back into my office.

"Evan Neezer!" she said sharply. "Exactly what are you trying to accomplish. Yelling at those guys isn't going to do anything other than make them even less likely to meet your sales goals. They're good guys and they work hard. Do you know what they were doing?" she looked at me and pushed me back down into my large comfortable office chair.

"They were trying to figure out what to get you for Christmas. We all took up a collection. Every God damned person out there whether they're in sales or production chipped in. Evan sometimes you have to roll the hard six. Sometimes you just have to back off and let what will be, just be!"

"Iris, don't start singing Doris Day songs," I snapped.

"Que Sera Sera," she sang as if taunting me. "Evan, this year has been hell in the aftermarket parts game. How many of our former competitors went out of business this year?"

Before I could answer, she was talking again. "But you got us through it. We didn't lay off a single employee and we're still holding our own. In a year like this one, I'd call that sound business planning and operation. But maybe we should let your sales goal go. Evan...it's Christmas."

"Bah...Humbug," I spat.

"Bah Humbug my ass," she quipped. "Evan Neezer, there's no need to be such a Scrooge."

I glared at her, balling my fists at my sides. She stood there, unflinching, as if she knew something that everyone else, me included, didn't. I let out a huge sigh and went back into my office. Behind me she shooed the salesmen back to their desks.

That little dust up was only the beginning. A short time later, just before lunch, the real storm blew.

The front door opened and a woman who at 4 foot 11 inches made Iris at 5 foot 2, seem tall. She also outweighed Iris by at least a hundred pounds. Her hair was as black as a raven's wing. It was cut short and curled inwards towards her chin. Her eyes contrasted with the dark hair. They were a beautiful pale blue. Those pale Blue eyes coupled with very red lips and a purely angelic expression gave her a type of facial beauty that made men look past the rest of her.

She was wrapped in a very full, very expensive fur coat that did a lot to trick the eye. Because of the bulk of the coat, anyone who saw her thought that she was much thinner than she was.

I knew from experience that beneath that coat she was at least as round as she appeared while wearing it. Though short, she was far from petite. Under that coat were two breasts that were larger than her head by a huge margin. Unlike a lot of bigger girls, she also had a really nice rounded butt too. Her soft and jiggly tummy might have turned some guys off, but I loved to grab it while I fucked her from behind. I also loved the feeling of being nearly crushed between those plump thighs when she was close to an orgasm.

"Ev, you were supposed to stop off and pick up donuts for the kids to take to school," she said angrily. "And my schedule has changed. I'm not going to be able to pick them up this afternoon. So you're going to have to do it. I also need one of your credit cards. Mine is past the limit again." She stood there in front of me as imperiously as if she'd been born a queen or at least elected president.

There were several things that I wanted to say, but I didn't. As usual I just reached into my wallet and gave her my card.

Anger flashed through me. "But..." I stopped almost immediately. I swallowed my words and they didn't taste good.

"Were you about to say something?" she asked. The beauty of her face twisted in her anger. "What were you going to say? I know you aren't going to say anything about me having a life or a few friends. There is no reason why you get to go out almost every day while I have to be cooped up in that house. Even your kids get to go out and go to school with their God damned money grubbing little friends." Her round frame seemed to almost vibrate as her anger grew.

I tried to calm her down but it didn't work. "I didn't say anything," I muttered.

"Fuck you, Evan Neezer," she screamed at the top volume her prodigious lungs could muster. "No I take that back...the next time I do fuck you, Obama will be president."

"Obama is already president, Carol," I said, trying to salvage a chunk of my self-respect. Our argument had grown in volume until everyone in the office could hear us, or at least hear her.

"I'm talking about Sasha Obama," she sneered. "You treat me like some kind of slave. I'm only there to have your babies and take care of the house. Am I supposed to be your live-in sex slave and maid? I deserve to have a life, Evan. Fuck you, I want a divorce!"

That was her trump card. Whenever we were really angry, she always threatened me with a divorce. The problem was that I loved her fat ass. I loved her so much that I couldn't see life without her. I also couldn't abide being separated from my kids.

"Calm down, Carol," I said. "Go on out and do whatever you were going to do with your friends. I'll pick up the kids."

"And stop off and get them something for dinner, so I don't have to cook," she said, as she turned for the door and placed an expensive pair of designer sunglasses on her nose.

As Carol left the building, I could see some of the sales guys covering their faces or putting their heads down to disguise the fact that they were laughing at me. From the back of the room I even heard a few snickers that some of the braver ones didn't bother to try to cover up. One of them, Greg Jenkins didn't even bother to try to hide the contempt in his voice. "He can't order that fat bitch around at home so he makes up for it by ordering us around here," he said.

I looked across the office as I heard a snapping sound and then the sound of water. I saw Iris. Her face was twisted in anger clutching the pieces of her plastic water glass. She had crushed the glass in her tiny hand and the water had spilled all over her desk.

I've always heard that redheads can have a temper, but in the five years that I've known Iris, this was the first time that I'd ever seen her lose it. She stormed into my office and slammed the door behind her, before she erupted.

"That fat bitch isn't going to divorce you. She's far too smart for that. She knows that no one else on earth would want her. I'm tired of her treating you like..." She paused and looked up at me. "Sorry Evan," she said calmly. "I just lost it for a moment. It won't happen again. Please don't fire me. I love my job."

"Iris, I'd never fire you, for any reason," I said.

"Do you mean that?" she asked, smiling. I just nodded.

"Iris, I need to get out of here for a bit," I said. "I need to calm down. If I'm not back by two thirty could you pick my kids up for me?"

"Me?" She asked smiling again. "Of course, I love your kids." She acted as if picking my kids up was some kind of honor and not just another task.

I gripped her shoulder affectionately, then grabbed my keys and headed for the door. On the way out I avoided eye contact with the men in the office. After leaving the office I wound my way through the shop floor and around several of the manufacturing cells. A few of my long time employees waved at me. I waved back, from force of habit, while trying to keep my anger from showing until I was clear of the building.

I walked calmly over to my Jeep Grand Cherokee and opened the door. I started the engine and turned up the volume on the stereo. My normal sports talk radio wasn't what I needed to hear. The smug tones of Mike Valente crowing about Michigan State University's absolute Jail sex ass kicking of Ohio State wouldn't help to calm me down. I switched over to my music collection and selected a calming song by Gordon Lightfoot.

As I pulled out of the parking lot and just drove, I had no destination in mind. I just needed to get away from people. I was on I-75 heading North, when I noticed a nearly blinding flash coming up from behind me. I recognized the front clip and headlight pattern, the way most people could recognize one of their kids. It was a Mustang GT and it was moving really damn quick.

Whoever the driver was, he had more balls than I did. Not only had my own mustang been put away for the winter for over a month, but I would never even dreamed of driving the car that fast on icy roads. I suspected that much sooner than later, the guy would end up off the road and in a ditch. The pony car had simply too much power to do much more than spin the rear wheels and skid in this mess. That was why I drove my Jeep during the winter. Traction control can only do so much.

The guy flew by me as if I was standing still. I didn't look at him as he tore past me. He was going too fast. Besides that I had to keep my eyes on the road. Even with four wheel drive, Michigan roads can be treacherous in winter. Black ice lurks under every inch of hard packed snow and before you know it you can be spinning out of control in the midst of bumper to bumper traffic. Every asshole on the road seems to think that he has the car control of Jimmy Johnson, while no one else can drive worth half a God damn.

Almost as if I was a psychic, my prediction came true. The idiot driving that beautiful yellow Mustang fish tailed wildly as the over powered rear wheels started to spin in the snowy muck. Adrenaline flooded my system as I tried to react quickly enough to save myself. I jerked the wheel to the side to avoid plowing into the rapidly spinning Pony car and ended up off of the road myself. There was a flashing light, almost as if my head had struck something, but I don't remember the airbag deploying.

"Shit," I thought. Leave it to Chrysler to fuck up the one good car they make. Now even the Jeeps were unreliable. I couldn't believe my airbag had failed.

* * * * * *

Carol

From time to time, men need to be put in their place. My mini argument with my husband couldn't have gone any better. The whole thing had been planned. I've heard it said that the best defense is a good offense. My daddy used to tell me that all the time. So if I wanted to go out and do something and I didn't want to worry about Ev calling home and wondering where I was, the best thing to do was to simply tell him that I was going out. And by getting upset about it, and starting an argument, Ev would just leave me alone about it and never bother me about it or bring it up again.

Of course, I'd lied to him about where I was going and what I would be doing but he didn't need to know that. I got back in my car and drove away from Ev's warehouse. I picked my phone out of my purse and called a familiar number. I actually knew the number by heart. I didn't store it in my phone's memory, just in case Ev ever checked my phone.

"I'll be there soon," I said. Then I hung up. Twenty minutes later, I got out of the car and went inside of one of the largest hotels on the river front. There was no need for me to check the room number. I again pulled out my cell phone and checked a text I'd received about an hour before. I went up to room 2112.

I took the elevator up to the twenty first floor of the high rise hotel. I looked around at the other people on the elevator and smiled at a couple of guys who were staring at me. When I got off of the elevator, I knew the way to the room. I'd been here many times before. I knocked on the door and it opened almost immediately. A man who at thirty years old was more than ten years younger than I am, opened it and dragged me inside.

Before I even realized what was happening to me he had planted his mouth on mine and was trying his best to suck my soul out of my body. His hands raked my expensive fur feverishly, trying to get it off. One by one, he undid the buttons, never ceasing his kisses. I was over whelmed.

A few seconds later, my three thousand dollar fur coat was thrown into a corner on the floor as if it was worthless. Then he started on my blouse. The buttons were much smaller and required a defter touch to manipulate. He whimpered in frustration and looked into my eyes.

I had trained him well. He had once torn off one of my favorite silk blouses in his desperation to get me naked. I'd been so angry that I had screamed at him and then left. So now he looked into my eyes, waiting. I undid the buttons myself and before I could give him the nod, his need took over. He grabbed my breasts as if he was drowning and they were the only life preservers available.

His hands were rough and he mauled my huge udders as if they were squeezie toys. The exciting thing was that even if they were squeezie toys, they didn't belong to him. The illicit nature of what we were about to do made it all more exciting. He started to kiss the nape of my neck and my nipples sprang forward like a stack of dimes. They grew longer and harder as his rough fingers approached them.

Once he got to them he began to roll and twist them. His manipulations were on the borderline between pleasure and pain. He suddenly hefted both of my breasts and raised them to his face. He began to alternate between them licking and sucking them both. A fire grew in intensity between my legs.

"My titties," he moaned. "All mine. You haven't been letting that asshole play with them have you?"

"No," I lied. "Let's get naked Billy."

"You've got me too hot for that baby," he gushed. Then he pulled my skirt up and snatched my tiny panties to the side. He rubbed my already engorged labia and forced one of his thick fingers inside of me.

Even as he probed my innards, he pushed me back towards the large, overstuffed hotel bed. As the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed I fell over backwards landing on the soft bed, a pushover in every sense of the word. As my back hit the bed my legs spread of their own volition.

He pulled his pants down, releasing his rampant member and forced it into me in one stroke. Months of practice gave him the experience to know what he could and couldn't do with me. My body's dimensions and the fact that I had already borne two children made accepting his girth and length in one shot not only palatable but pleasurable. If anything, he had to be rougher with me to make sure I felt anything. My husband was actually more endowed than Billy.

Try as I might, I couldn't, even at a time like this, banish Evan from my mind. I hated Evan as much as I loved him. Growing up, I was always in my brother's shadow. Phil was the smart one. Phil was the handsome one. My parents always talked about how Phil would grow up to do great things. I was only the little fat girl in his shadow.

As I entered my teens, my bright, shining brother entered a Military academy. He didn't want to go to war and luckily enough it was peacetime. But the academy offered an education that would rival all of the finest universities in the country. They also offered an alumni network that threaded its way through most of the biggest corporations and most powerful industries worldwide. Graduation from the Military academy would have guaranteed my brother's future.

Unfortunately, the unexpected robbed the world and my parents of the man that Phil could have become. He was killed in a peacetime training exercise. Phil was taking part in a self defense class when he was struck in the jaw. It wasn't a very hard blow. It didn't have to be.

Phil had very fragile mandibular condyles. Basically he had a very fragile glass jaw. The punch dislocated his jaw and the resulting pain, cause him to lose his balance and strike his head on the edge of a nearby bench. He died immediately. The shining star of my parents' universe, snuffed out like a candle in the wind. They never recovered.

The fact that they had a daughter who still needed them somehow failed to pierce their sadness. I grew to adulthood in a house where three people lived, that bore no resemblance to the home that once housed a family.

I'm not even sure my parents ever knew or cared about the hell I went through growing up. I was always a heavier girl. But my breasts developed very early and never seemed to stop growing. The kids, especially during my teen years found me more an object of ridicule than someone to consider dating. I had more boys laughing at me and sneaking feels on my boobs than I ever had friends. I was also the subject of every fat joke known to man.

After high school, I got a series of dead end jobs. I didn't actually have sex until I was twenty two. Even then it was a much older man who had a breast fetish. I don't think he even knew what my face looked like. All he cared about was the two huge mounds of flesh on my chest. I endured that existence, still living in my parents' home.

By the time I was twenty four, I'd had never been in any kind of relationship. I'd been fucked a few times and didn't think that sex was anything special. Most of the men who wanted me, just wanted my tits. Some of them never even got their dicks inside of me before they shot their semen all over my tits.

Then Evan came along. He had just started his business. He had only one or two employees and he was renting space in the back of someone else's shop. But he had a look in his eyes that told me he would do great things. I was waitressing in a greasy spoon near where he rented his space. The first time he came in it was only because the restaurant he usually ate in was full.

After that he kept coming back. I was sure it wasn't the food. I also knew that he liked me. From the start, I figured that although younger and less creepy than the guys I was used to, that his biggest attraction was for my tits. He seemed to be taking his time though. Then he started screwing with my head. He seemed to be summoning his courage. I was used to that. I knew that his next move would be to ask if he could drive me home. Once he got me in the car, he'd size me up and then make his move towards the promised land or the promised mountains. Imagine my surprise when he asked me out instead.