Saved

I looked at the piece of paper in my hand with annoyance. “Secret Santa” was a custom of long standing at the company I worked for. The rules were simple: a $20 price limit; gifts had to be in good taste; and they were supposed to be sneaked under the Christmas tree in the conference room so nobody could guess who’d given what to whom.

Normally I found the whole thing funny, but this year I’d drawn the new receptionist. She was maybe 19 years old, a chattering airhead who couldn’t talk about anything but pop singers, clothes, clubs and parties. I worked in Marketing, hardly even saw her, had nothing in common with her and didn’t have a clue what she might like. And the company Christmas party was this afternoon.

At lunch, I went to the mall and wandered around, hoping inspiration would strike. A shop that featured clubwear caught my eye. They had a jewelry display in the window. I figured that I couldn’t go wrong with that, so I walked in, looked at the walls covered in rhinestone thingies and nearly went into sensory overload. There was enough glitter and glitz in this place to outfit a Vegas chorus line!

“May I help you, sir?” a woman’s voice said behind me. I turned to see a woman I guessed was about 25. She had pale olive skin, a pretty face and a nice figure in kicky slacks and a tight, scoop-necked blouse that accentuated her cleavage. Her reddish-brown hair was done up in what I recognized from observation of my Secret Santa recipient as a club ‘do. A pair of high heels and a name tag that read, “Belle – Store Manager” completed the outfit. Definitely easy on the eyes. Pity she likely wouldn’t be interested in a guy probably 15 years older than her.

I explained my problem. Belle thought for a moment, and picked half a dozen rhinestone hair ornaments off the racks. I looked dubiously at them.

“How do you wear them?”

“Like this,” Belle replied. She swept her shoulder-length hair up with one hand in front of a mirror on the back wall and handed me the pins. “Use them to pin the hair up.” I stepped in close enough to put them in place. Belle leaned back slightly to make it easier and my cock popped to attention in a perfectly natural reaction. I blushed. Belle felt and saw my reaction, chuckled low in her throat and let more of her weight rest on me while her free hand trickled over my thigh and she winked in the mirror. “See? It’s easy. I’m sure she’ll like them; I know I like what I’m seeing.”

Playing along, I said, “A shame you can’t see her face when she unwraps them.”

“You’ll have to stop by and tell me how it went. We close at ten.” With a last pressure against me, Belle straightened up, took the ornaments out of her hair and went to the register to ring up the sale and wrap them up. As she handed back my credit card, she stroked my palm with her nails and said, “Remember what I said.”

At the company party, the airhead was delighted with her present and immediately ran off to the ladies’ room to redo her hair and put them in place. Belle clearly knew what her typical customers liked. I slipped away from the festivities as soon as I’d made my manners with everyone I needed to, happy to be out of the racket and enroute to… what? A rendezvous? A date? A debriefing? Since my divorce five years before, I’d concentrated on building my career. I was out of touch with the dating scene.

I had about 2 hours before my rendezvous with Belle, if that was what it was. I stopped at a restaurant and ate a light meal. I decided to go for a walk and found myself outside an antique shop. I still had time to kill, so I went inside. This shop sold repros as well as antiques, and I found something I thought Belle might like. Figuring that I owed her for saving me from making a foolish present purchase in the matter of the teeny-twit, I bought it and slipped it into my blazer pocket.

The mall was about to close as I walked through the entrance and on up to the shop where Belle might or might not be expecting me. I was mentally prepared to learn that the whole business had been a gag on someone seen as ripe to be the object of a practical joke. When I walked through the shop door, Belle looked up from the cash register she was closing out and called, “Hi! Go on into the office. I’ll be there as soon as I finish this.”

I went into the office and sat down, standing when Belle came in. “So how did she like them?” she asked, brushing my arm with her boobs as she eased past. I couldn’t tell if she’d done it on purpose or not.

“She went absolutely gaga,” I replied. “She was babbling about what she would wear with them as she ran off to put them in her hair.” Belle looked pleased. Gathering my courage, I said, “By way of thanks, would you care to have coffee or a drink with me?” I steeled myself for a polite rejection.

Belle smiled, picked up her coat and took my arm. “We can have both, and peace and quiet, at my place. Interested?”

Naturally, I was.

After dropping the day’s receipts in the night deposit box in the mall’s branch bank, we took my car to Belle’s apartment nearby. She lived in a condo complex a twenty minute walk from the mall. After we hung up our coats, she headed upstairs, calling over her shoulder, “I’m going to change. The coffee’s in the kitchen, and the booze is in the living room credenza. Take off your shoes and kick back, I’ll only be a minute.” After losing the shoes, I started coffee brewing and went up the stairs to the living room.

As advertised, the credenza held an impressive collection of liquor and glasses. I selected brandy for the two of us, poured two snifters and set them on the table, and wandered over to the bookcase to check out Belle’s DVD collection. I heard the swish of fabric to my left and turned to look.

Belle was descending the stairs in a red silk robe, tightly belted at the waist, her feet in matching mules with 6-inch stiletto heels. My eyes must have lit up, for she smiled knowing as she brushed past me to pick up a brandy, waving for me to join her.

“Why don’t you take off your coat and tie and relax?” she suggested, patting the couch next to her. I pulled my tie loose and tossed it onto the arm of the couch. As I started to take off my blazer, the box in the side pocket reminded me it was there. I took it out and cradled it in my hands, looking at Belle’s languorous form leaning back against the far arm.

“A little something to thank you for helping me out of the jam with that Secret Santa problem,” I said as I handed the jeweler’s box to her. She put down her brandy and opened it slowly. The box contained a suite of matching jewelry in sterling silver, onyx and marcasite: a ring, a bracelet, earrings and a pendant on a silver chain. She looked up at me, her eyes bright and clear.

“They’re beautiful! Would you like me to model them for you?”

“I’d like that very much,” I said.

“You’ll have to help me,” she said softly, extending a slender hand to me. I felt sparks as I pulled her to her feet. So, apparently, did she. She set the box on the coffee table, looking at me expectantly. I took the ring from the box and motioned for her right hand. The ring slipped easily onto her third finger. The bracelet came next, and I slid it slowly over her left hand until it rested above her wrist, taking time to caress her palm as I did so. I took the earrings from the box one at a time and dipped the French hooks into my brandy to sterilize them before I gently worked them through her shapely earlobes.

Belle lifted her hair in one hand and turned her back to me so I could put the necklace around her throat and close the clasp. As it clicked shut, she leaned back against me, closing her eyes. I moved my arms around her to hold her close, my hands at her waist. I saw that a drop of brandy had fallen from the right earring into the hollow of her neck. I leaned forward to kiss the spot, my erection pressing against the globes of her ass. Belle responded by lifting my hands from her waist to her breasts, easing the top of the robe open in silent invitation. I cupped her boobs, squeezing gently and rubbing my thumbs lightly across her nipples, feeling them harden and tighten as she moaned low in her throat. She half-turned in my arms, one hand pulling my head to hers to meet her parted lips. Our tongues dueled as I pulled her closer, my left hand cradling her head as my right kneaded her buttocks. She moaned softly, fingernails digging into my scalp as her other hand sought out my ass in turn, pressing me to her as tightly as she could, her hips grinding against my cock as she eagerly sucked at my tongue.

“I want you,” she whispered when she broke the kiss. “I need you to make me feel good. Take me to bed and fuck me. Please.”

Slipping an arm around each other’s waists, we climbed the stairs to her bedroom on the top floor.

Her bedroom was built around a kingsized bed made up with what looked like silk sheets. The thick mattress & box-spring set, plus the low platform they rested on, put the top of the mattress at thigh height on me. The only light spilling into the room came from the open bathroom door, but it was enough. Belle began to undress me with sensuous brushings of her fingers and nails and soft kisses as I went from clothed to naked. She stepped back. I reached out and pulled the knotted sash at her waist. The robe slipped open and she shrugged it off her shoulders, the fabric puddling at her feet. She stepped forward into my embrace, her eyes hot and seeking as we wrapped ourselves around each other, each feeling the other’s lust and feeding our own off it. I grasped a handful of hair and pulled her mouth to mine. Our tongues intertwined like mating snakes as she sighed and wordlessly urged me on.

I broke the kiss and picked her up by the buttocks. Belle wrapped her legs around my back as I placed her on the edge of the bed. She leaned back, parting her legs in invitation. Her bush was bikini-waxed and neatly trimmed, which pleased me. Love-dew beaded her pussy lips, its musk arousing me even more. I leaned forward, pushing her thighs farther apart, and began to tongue her.

She moaned deep in her throat and whispered, “Oh, yes,” as I ran my tongue into her slit, tasting her juices for the first time. I worked my way up to her clitoral shaft and licked it, feeling rather than seeing her clit engorge and emerge from its hood as she responded to the stimulation. Leaning in closer, I sucked it into my mouth, gently nibbling her clitoris. Belle arched up off the bed and groaned with pleasure, her pussy nectar soaking my chin as she began to climb toward orgasm, pressing her mound into my face, demanding more and more as she hoarsely mumbled, “Don’t stop… yes… yes… oh, that’s good… lick me… lick me… ooh, don’t stop…” as I continued to lap up her dripping sweetness.

As she grew more agitated, I slid first one, then two fingers into her while continuing to lick and nibble at her clit. She responded with deep groans of pleasure. I could feel her pussy clamp down on my fingers, trying to pull them even farther in. Her head thrashed on the slender column of her neck, her hair flying as she sought her peak, her moans turning into ecstatic howls of sexual pleasure. I curved and turned my fingers, trying to find her G-spot and press it back against her clitoris. Belle reacted to this invasion of her body by shoving her slit harder against my face, chanting “Suck it! Suck it! Suck it! Ohmigawd! I… need… to… cummm…” her body twisting spasmodically as she sought release, her hands pressing against the back of my head, trying to control me even as I controlled her.

I lifted my head just a little from my enjoyable task, took a deep breath, and blew sharply onto her exposed love bud. Belle bucked up with a shriek of lust and I dropped my mouth back over her clit, simultaneously sucking and biting gently as I lashed it with my tongue.

Belle screamed joyously, an incomprehensible sound that told me and anyone else in earshot that she had reached a shattering climax. Her thighs clamped spastically around my head and her hands tried to shove my face into her cunt, the nails digging deep into my scalp. I rode the bucking slut, never letting up on her clit, feeling her juices flow onto my hand as I continued to pleasure her. It seemed like hours before the viselike grip of her legs relaxed as she fell down the far side into afterglow and I could shift my position. She whined as I withdrew my fingers from her pussy and stood up.

I rubbed my right hand over her mound, gathering up her wetness and smearing it over my cock as she lay there panting, too limp to protest. I grabbed her ankles and forced her legs back against her boobs, spreading her open. The move pulled her cunt lips apart, her hips rotating up, her pussy helplessly exposed to anything I might choose to do. Taking a deep breath, I rubbed my cock up and down her inner lips for a moment. Then, in one swift, decisive thrust, I entered her.

Belle hissed, “Yes!” as she felt me penetrate her. She was slick and tight as I took her, driving in clear up to the hilt. She didn’t resist as I fucked in and out of her. Quite the contrary. As she came back to herself from what I hoped would be the first of many climaxes she began to move in time with my thrusts, her hips rising to meet my inward thrusts, her cunt muscles grabbing my cock, her love juice flowing as I ravaged her greedy hole. She laid her legs on my shoulders, her long calves pressing down, urging me to even deeper penetration, greedily trying to shove my balls in too. She arched her back, bracing herself on her arms, offering her firm breasts with their engorged nipples to me. I leaned down, catching her left nipple in my teeth and flicking it with my tongue. She cried, “Oh! It hurts… don’t… stop… don’t stop… ohh, yes…” as the stimulation crossed the pleasure/pain boundary. At the top of each thrust, her hips curved forward and down as she sought to bring her swollen clit into contact with my shaft. She moaned in time with the pistoning of my cock as I pulled myself up on her body to steepen the angle and make it easier for her love bud to scrape along my rod. I noticed a flush spreading across her chest as her nipples hardened to pebbles and she neared orgasm. My balls were threatening to explode, but I mentally clamped down, determined to make Belle climax before letting myself go, forcing myself to keep my strokes long and steady instead of going for the short jabs that always presaged my own climax, listening to her moaning increase in intensity and pitch as we continued to fuck.

I let go of Belle’s nipple to better resist the temptation to cum. She grabbed her tits with both hands, her sharp nails pressing cruelly into her own flesh, increasing the sensations she was feeling. It drove her over the edge. She howled, “I’m cumming!!” as she arched her back, trying to impale herself on my rock-hard prick and drive it clear into her belly. I continued to ride her, not caring if I was hurting her as my own climax approached, no longer to be denied. She felt the difference in my thrusts. Her hazel eyes looked deep into my blue ones.

“Fuck me, lover,” she whispered. “Fuck me. Give it to me. Give me your cum. I want it. Give it to me… give it to me… give it to me…”

I reached up, grabbing her head and collapsing on her beautiful tits as my orgasm overwhelmed me, my cock ramming into her, plundering her depths as it spewed my sperm deep into her wanton pussy and my tongue invaded her mouth, my groans muffled against her lips. I felt her shudder in climax as her twat milked frantically at my prick. Our sweat mingled as we lay together, the spasms subsiding as we became aware of the outside world again. My spent cock slipped out of her liquid depths as we gasped for air. The sheets where we lay we soaked with sweat and our mingled fluids. I had just enough energy left to swing her legs onto the bed and turn her clear of the wet spot that marked our coupling before I climbed up onto the bed on her far side, pulling the silk sheet up over our glowing bodies. As she cuddled into my chest and I cupped one of her lovely breasts, we fell into the exhausted sleep of satisfied lovers.