A Christmas Carol 2

Okay, so I've never actually read Dickens'

A Christmas Carol,

but I'm familiar enough with the plot etc, to have a go at an affectionate pastiche. Of course, this being me, there has to be some incest involved. I hope you enjoy it. Please give it five stars and a glowing review. Everyone involved in any sexual behaviours is eighteen or older.

1

You get what you pay for. That was Ben's motto. There was a place and there was a time for driving a hard bargain, and he had done that on plenty of occasions, but usually he believed in just going the extra mile and spending the extra penny. On himself, anyway.

He was definitely no Scrooge.

Well, maybe.

That was certainly the case when it came to his work environment. His office was a thing of beauty. Stark beauty, but beauty nonetheless.

Easter Investments

- the company he had started out of his mother's basement when he was nineteen - took up five floors of this building downtown. Ben's office was at the very top, and took up almost a third of the floor space.

It was relatively sparsely furnished. He had a big glass desk, a couple of long leather couches that he used for meetings and

other

things, and a drinks cabinet. There was also an en-suite bathroom that was big enough to store a small fold-up bed that he sometimes used to sleep in, when he was working especially late.

On three sides of the room there were ceiling-to-floor windows, that provided a spectacular view of the city. It was night time now, so the sun had set and the neon lights were illuminating the streets and buildings below. You could hear the muffled horns from cars and buses, even all the way up here. Across the canyons of New York, office workers were still busy beavering away, chasing the almighty dollar, as business moved around the world.

Ben himself was a little preoccupied with other matters at this particular moment in time. He was sat on one of those expensive leather couches, his arms spread out to his sides, his head resting backwards. He was as naked as the day he was born. His legs were also spread out and kneeling between them, on the floor, was a young woman, who wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing either, save for a pair of black stockings. Her hands were resting on his thighs, and her head was bobbing up and down, as she sucked enthusiastically on Ben's cock.

The young woman was Bobbi, his personal assistant. She'd been working for him for more than three years, and she'd been fucking him pretty much from day one. There had been an undeniable chemistry between them, even at her interview, and once it became clear he was interested, she had made herself available to him. She liked sex, and she had found him immensely attractive. Fucking your boss was a bit vulgar, a bit of a

cliche

, but when your boss was so good at fucking, Bobbi was prepared to let it slide.

She remembered that first evening, when he had propositioned her. She had only been working there a few days, and he had told her to join him in his office after hours. He poured her a drink and asked her to sit next to him on the couch. There had been a flirtatious atmosphere brewing between the two of them, and they had shared the occasional knowing look. She had deliberately dressed in a sexy way - tight blouse, short skirt, stockings - and her new boss made no secret of the fact he enjoyed the view.

"So, how are you enjoying the new job?" He asked, between sips of bourbon.

"It's been very interesting," she replied, in a noncommittal tone.

"

Interesting?

" He raised an eyebrow in quizzical surprise, "that's not the answer I was expecting."

"Oh, it's been enjoyable, don't get me wrong, but I'm just trying to navigate my way through some unusual waters."

"In what way, unusual?"

"You're clearly a successful man, and I sense you're going to be a

demanding

boss, in a whole host of ways."

"Is that right?"

She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, her skirt riding up, revealing her stocking-tops. His eyes darted down briefly.

"Yes, I believe so. That's not a problem by the way. I expect you to be demanding. You may find I'm quite receptive to certain demands. I want to be pushed.

Hard

."

She took a sip of bourbon herself.

"But I want to know where I stand," she continued, "do you want a personal assistant, or do you just want something else?"

He paused to consider her question, then he smiled at her.

"You're right, I can be demanding.

Very

demanding," he said, "I will expect you to work hard. I will expect you to be

available

for me whenever I need you. But don't get me wrong, I gave you the job because I was impressed by your

résumé

and your interview. And I've been impressed by your work so far."

"Thank you."

"I need a personal assistant and I think you're the best candidate for the job. But it's true, I have enjoyed a...close relationship with my previous assistants, and I would like to explore something similar with you."

"You want to fuck me?" She said, starkly.

"Very much so," he replied, not thrown for a nanosecond.

"You know, this entire conversation could ruin your career? If I went to the media, or a lawyer, I could accuse you of sexual harassment."

"You could, but I don't think you will."

"Why not?"

"I don't think you're that kind of girl. Or woman. I think you're confident enough not to let it faze you. And I think you may be open to the idea."

"Really? You have quite a high opinion of yourself, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. But I've been told it's merited. Look, I don't want to force you into anything you don't want to do. We can enjoy an entirely professional relationship, if that's what you prefer. But, the alternative would be a lot more enjoyable."

She didn't respond. Instead she took another sip of alcohol and considered his offer.

"You see that desk?" He pointed at the huge glass monstrosity that dominated the other side of the room. "I got that specially made for this space. It's meant to intimidate the people I do business with. And holy Christ, it's sturdy. I've fucked so many women bent over that desk."

"Is that a fact?"

"Yes, it is. You know Peggy?"

"My predecessor?"

"Yes. She's sort of retiring. Her sister is unwell and she's moving west to be closer to her family."

"Yeah, I think she said something about that when she briefed me on my first day. What about her?"

"I've fucked her on that desk."

"Jesus! You're kidding me! She's an old lady. She's old enough to be a grandmother."

"She

is

a grandmother. She's also the single filthiest woman I've ever slept with. You wouldn't believe the things she likes to do when she's off the clock. For instance, I've never met a woman who loves anal sex more than she does."

"You're joking," she giggled.

"Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't really matter. She's left and you're here now. I think you're a very attractive woman, Roberta."

"I think I told you at my interview, I prefer Bobbi."

"You're a very attractive woman,

Bobbi,

and I would like us to get to know one another more

intimately

. Like I said, I don't want to force you into anything, but, to put it as bluntly as I possibly can, I really want to fuck you. The choice is yours."

Almost before he finished speaking, she stood up, laid her glass down on the small coffee table next to the couch, and walked towards the desk. Her high heels admirably accentuating the shape of her long, stockinged legs. Once she reached the desk, she lay her hands down flat on the glass surface and pressed downwards. Then she tried shoving it. It didn't budge.

"You're right, it's pretty sturdy."

She looked at him for a moment, before turning her face to the wall. She took a deep breath, and then let her hands fall to her side. She took hold of the hem of her skirt and started pulling it up. Inch by inch, the back of her legs were revealed; the shiny satin of her dark stockings, the creamy-white texture of her thighs.

Bobbi had always been a naturally slender woman, but she still had plenty of curves. Her butt for instance was quite formidable. She struggled for a moment to tug the tight material of her pencil skirt past the epic proportions of her buttocks, and when she did, they jiggled free, rippling like a sordid type of jello. Then, once she completed the task of hitching her skirt up round her waist, she returned her hands to the glass surface, and bent forward, over the desk.

Ben gulped down the remainder of his drink, then shot up and bounded across the room. Once he reached his destination, he stood there for a few moments, admiring the incredible view, namely Bobbi's sumptuous ass.

"I notice you're not wearing any panties," he said.

"Yeah, I took them off before I came to your office this evening. I knew what you probably had in mind."

"Is that right?"

"Sure. You were going to want to fuck me. And I was going to let you."

He smiled to himself, then he reached out and cupped one of her butt cheeks in the palm of his hand. Oh God, was there anything smoother or finer than the ass of a young woman? He revelled in the softness of her flesh, the elasticity and bounce of her body. He knelt down behind her, massaging her butt. She could feel his hot breath against her skin. It tickled and aroused her. Her cunt was glistening with that arousal.

He wanted to taste it.

He leant forward and gently kissed her creamy flesh. A delicate peck on the soft, warm curve of her buttocks. He kissed her again. And again. Moving his mouth across her thighs and ass. Then he opened his lips, extending his tongue and licking the surface; tasting the slightly salty flavour of her body. She shivered a little in excitement, her pubic lips neatly framed between the tightness of her legs.

He turned his focus to her cunt, his tongue slurping up across her vagina and then up to her anus. She groaned as he did so, her legs shaking a little. She may not have been wearing any panties but she was wearing a pair of black stockings. Once again, he marvelled at the contrast between the white creaminess of her naked skin and the dark sheen of her hosiery. He dragged his fingernails along the nylon surface, making a faint swooshing noise with his hand.

A single bead of cunt juice trickled down the back of one of her thighs. He licked it up and then resumed feasting on her gash. His mouth cupped to her twat. She moaned audibly, as his tongue burrowed inside her sopping wet slit. He let his fingers sink into the luxuriant flesh of her buttocks, fondling and massaging her cheeks. He lapped away at her clit, sucking on it and then chewing on it with his teeth. Her moans became groans. Her groans became gasps. Her gasps became screams.

Ben stood up behind her, unzipped his fly, tugged out his cock and slapped it against her ass. She yelped and he did it once more.

"Are you going to fuck me with that thing, or just hit me with it?" She inquired.

He responded by slamming his dick inside her and burying himself balls-deep. Her head fell down on the desk, as she groaned once more.

"I expect to have open access to your body whenever I want, from now on," he told her, his cock sliding in and out of her snatch.

"Is that right?" She asked, gasping with every thrust.

"It is," he responded, "and you can dispense with underwear from now on too. I have a dress code in mind for you that involves short skirts, stockings and no panties."

"I think that can be arranged."

"I'll add a regular supplement to your salary, a little extra to help you pay for a new wardrobe."

"Anything else?" She moaned, his dick reaching deep inside her snatch.

"Yeah," he grunted, "keep your cunt waxed. I like it to be as smooth as silk down there."

She giggled lightly, as he carried on fucking her. His dick slid in and out of her tight gash, his hot, shiny skin rubbing against hers. No one had mentioned condoms at any point in the proceedings, both of them seemed to instinctively understand that whenever they were going to fuck, they were going to do it bareback.

She decided to assume he was

clean

and she knew for sure she was. And anyway, she infinitely preferred to do it this way. There was always something so thrilling about the feel of an unprotected dick inside her, knowing she was playing a relatively innocuous game of pregnancy roulette.

He banged her on his desk for twenty minutes or so, and then he erupted inside her. He bellowed wildly as his cock spat out his creamy muck, splattering the walls of her gash. Ben lay down on top of her, his dick still twitching and shuddering inside her, the final spasms of ejaculate bathing her inner chamber. Both of them were covered in sweat, panting and groaning on his desk. He brought his hand up to her face, brushing a lock of damp hair off her cheek.

"You've got one of the nicest cunts I've ever fucked," he said to her softly.

"And you've got one of the nicest cocks that's ever been inside me," she replied, with a giggle.

"I think this could be the start of a beautiful working relationship."

And never had a more truer word been spoken. Ben and Bobbi became regular lovers from that moment on. Fucking her boss was now part of her job specifications, and she was always very serious about her work. Taking care of his needs mattered to her, and she used her body as both a stress reliever and a way to focus his mind.

It wasn't unusual for her to start the day on her knees, beneath his desk, giving him a sloppy blowjob. And it wasn't unusual for her to end the day bent double on one of the couches in his office, as he fucked her in the ass. Whenever he went anywhere on a business trip, she accompanied him, and they always shared a room and a bed together.

Bobbi was a vivacious blonde with big blue eyes and a killer body, and fucking her was a real pleasure; but Ben understood she was also good at her job. She had a mind like a steel trap, was totally on top of his schedule, and she always offered great advice whenever he asked for it.

And boy, did she know how to give great head.

It was a mutually beneficial arrangement that both parties enjoyed immensely. A fact proven by the way she was riding him once more with gusto in his office. She'd sucked his dick for ten minutes or so, then clambered up on to his lap. He feasted on her boobs, as she impaled herself on his cock. His tongue rolling round her nipples, his hands gripping her waist. She bounced up and down, her breasts jumping around in rhythm with the rest of her body.

Eventually, like night following day, Ben squirted another potent load inside his personal assistant's welcoming snatch. She clung on to him for dear life, as the both of them shook and shivered with sexual satisfaction. They clung on to each other for dear life, making out tenderly, their hands roaming around, exploring naked, glowing flesh.

Bobbi eventually stood up, his dick making a slurping, popping sound as she pulled free of him. She staggered a little, then bent over to pick up her clothes. As ordered, three years earlier, she wasn't wearing underwear and her snatch was as smooth as a baby's bottom. She stepped into her dress and pulled it up to her shoulders, slipping her arms through the short sleeves of the garment.

"Zip me up?" She asked, her back turned to him.

He stood up, his semi-erect cock still bobbing up and down a little. He held tightly to her waist as he pulled up the zipper of her dress, rubbing his hardness between the cheeks of her ass, as he did so.

"Stop it," she said, swatting at his prick, "you'll get my clothes dirty."

"Sorry," he replied.

She smiled sweetly at him, gave his dick a little squeeze with her hand, and walked over to the desk. There was a stack of files waiting for her. Before they had got distracted with their after-hours hook-up, she had actually come here to do some work.

"The Drysdale specs still need to be looked at," she told him.

"We can do that tomorrow," he said, while pulling his boxer shorts on.

"Maybe not tomorrow."

"Why, what's wrong with tomorrow?"

"It's Christmas Day."

"And?"

"And it's Christmas Day. You know, the big holiday with trees, turkey and presents?"

"Oh, fuck Christmas!" He spat out, indignantly.

She rolled her eyes. This was not the first time she had heard him express sentiments like this.

"Look, boss, I don't know why you've got such a bug in your ass about the Holidays, but most of the rest of us like to celebrate this time of year. I've given you your festive fuck; now I'm going to head home and spend the next few days with my son."

"Fine, suit yourself. I'll take a look at those memos by myself."

"Ho, ho, ho to you too."

"How is Tim, by the way?"

Bobbi paused for a moment.

"He's fine," she replied, "he's had a tough few weeks with the treatment he's receiving, but he loves Christmas...unlike some people I could mention...and he wants to have as much fun as possible over the next few days."

"Okay, say 'hi' to him, for me."

"Okay. Merry Christmas, Ben."

Bobbi smiled at him and then walked towards the door of his office. As she approached it, the door opened and a young woman stepped in. Like Bobbi, she was fairly petite, but pretty curvy. She was dressed like a goth. Her hair was dyed half black and half blue. Her skin was pale and covered in tattoos, on her neck and her arms. There were plenty of visible piercings too. She was wearing knee-high boots, leggings, purple stockings, a little plaid mini-skirt and a tight sleeveless top that revealed a bare midriff. She had an army jacket thrown over her shoulder.

"Hey, Bobbi!" The girl said with a smile.

"Hey, Freddy, how are you?"

The two women embraced, kissing each other on the lips, with a surprising intimacy and intensity; then Bobbi looked back over her shoulder towards Ben.

"Your brother is being his usual miserable self about Christmas," she said, her words intended for the young woman, still in her arms, "I hope you're more in the festive swing of things?"

"Oh, certainly," Freddy replied, "it's my birthday as well as Christmas, as well he knows. I'm having a big party tomorrow, and I've invited him, but he says he'll give it a miss."

"Sounds just like him," she replied, "I, for one, hope you have a great time."

The two women hugged once more, their bodies pressing tightly together. They kissed again, Freddy's tongue quickly lapping against Bobbi's lips, and then Ben's PA left the room. Once the door closed behind her, Freddy looked over at the man still buttoning up his shirt.

"You've just fucked her, haven't you?" She said, matter-of-factly.

"No, don't be stupid," he replied, not sounding terribly convincing.

"Of course you did. The room stinks of sex, she was flushed and glowing, and you're still getting dressed, for Christ's sake. Jesus! You'll still have her cunt-juice drying on your cock. Banging your secretary in the office, how vulgar."

"I didn't force her."

"You're her boss and she's a lot younger than you. You're almost old enough to be her father. There's a whole power dynamic at play. The 'Me Too' thing just passed you by, didn't it?"

"What's it got to do with you anyway?"

"You're my brother; who you stick your dick in, is of some minor interest to me."

"Freddy..."

"Mind you, I can't say I blame you. She's red hot. I'd love to fuck her myself."

"Really," he said, raising an eyebrow, "I didn't realise you were a lesbian these days?"

"I'm not. I'm

bisexual

. I still like cock."

"For fuck's sake, Freddy."

"Have I scandalised you, big brother? Yes, look, you're blushing. Or is that just the aftermath of your tawdry office assignation?"

Ben didn't reply. He walked over to his desk and sat down behind it. Freddy strolled over and joined him, sitting on the desk. He was, and not for the first time, conscious of her body. Her skirt rode up, revealing her stocking tops and a narrow strip of pale white flesh. He tried not to look. But not that hard.