We Wish You A Naughty Christmas: A Christmas Collection

by Skye Warren

  I’m a wreck. A drunken, moaning whore under two hot guys. My tits bouncing and bobbing, my pussy squelching as Seb fucks me.

  I don’t care about the sculpture anymore, nor about Mr. Davenport’s missing whisky, nor his pussy-scented pens. I don’t care about anything but the two dicks using my body and how it makes me feel.

  Dommie pulls out of my mouth with a groan, leaving a string of spit from the head of his cock to my lips. His dick really is perfect. A big swollen head so well-proportioned to his thick shaft, a perfect branch of veins running along the underside.

  “Like I said earlier,” he tells me. “I choose ass over lips. Gonna take you nice and fucking slow, both of us at once. Would you like that, slut?”

  I’m nodding, panting. My belly flutters, turns over itself, but I want it. I really want it.

  Seb lifts me up with his dick still inside me, and Dommie positions himself flat on his father’s desk, his big dick jutting up like a mast. He licks his thumb and I let out a moan as he reaches forward to part my ass cheeks.

  It feels so tight as he pushes his thumb inside, but I don’t care. He twists his thumb back and forth and I feel myself opening. I don’t want to look at my reflection, but I can’t help it. My lips are puffy and my makeup is a mess, staring back at myself over Seb’s shoulder with his thick dick still inside me and his brother’s thumb in my asshole.

  So much for one fucking kiss. They’ve made a raging whore out of me, and I love it. I love the way they make me feel.

  “Easy does it,” Dommie growls, and Seb lowers me.

  They’re both so fucking strong, these two, ripped muscle under expensive tuxedos, their perfect smiles so tempting.

  I feel Dommie’s dick press against my asshole, and it’s too big, I’m sure it’s too big. Apparently I’m wrong, as the head enters with a shove, and I’m full of him, so full of both of them.

  It stretches. It hurts, like an ache. But a good ache. An ache that begs for more.

  Two dicks in me, two grunting brothers inching deeper, and I’m grunting too, grunting against the stretch as my body takes them.

  My poor dress is gathered around my waist, and my knickers are on their father’s office floor, and my eyes are screwed shut as these two guys push their way inside me. And then they’re in, both of them, all the way. And it hurts. It hurts so fucking perfectly. A hazy hurt below the champagne-warmth. A hurt that I want more of.

  “Fuck me,” I hiss. “Stretch me, make me fucking take it.”

  “Dirty bitch,” Seb breathes. “You’re such a dirty bitch, Chloe. You’re everything we hoped you’d be.”

  “More,” Dommie growls. “More than we hoped you’d be.”

  “It’s always the prim ones,” Seb rasps. “Always the quiet little prim types that turn out to be the dirtiest. I think Pops knows it, too.”

  “Fuck!” I moan. “Just fucking fuck me!”

  And they do, they do fucking fuck me.

  “Come for us,” Seb grunts. “Come for both of us.”

  And I want to, I really want to. Seb slips a thumb down to my clit and circles hard, and it’s enough to send me there again, enough to bring me to orgasm as their cocks pump me hard.

  It rips through me, this crazy white heat, and I’m staring at myself in the reflection, staring at this filthy spectacle with a sense of wonder on my face.

  “Gonna come,” Dommie says, and his voice is strained, so fucking strained. He thrusts up at my ass, and his flesh makes a slapping sound as it hits mine and I shriek and gasp and lock my arms around Seb’s neck.

  “Me too,” Seb grunts, his hands tightening around my waist. “Gonna shoot my load in this tight little cunt.”

  But he doesn’t.

  He can’t.

  Because the sound of the door handle turning is enough to stop them dead in their tracks, cocks still all the way inside me as I lay mashed between them, my tits bobbing as I try to catch my breath.

  I daren’t look.

  I can’t look.

  The horror grips at my heart. Steals the breath from my lungs. The misery swallows me right up and spits me out again, so tight in my chest that I barely notice Seb pull out of me and put his cock away.

  I try to raise myself on jelly legs, and Dom slides out from under me. Puts his dick away too.

  I wish the ground would swallow me up as I catch sight of Mr. Davenport’s scowl in the window reflection. My cheeks burn as I try to wrestle my tits back into my crumpled frock, wondering where the hell my knickers have vanished to.

  Mr. Davenport doesn’t ask what the hell we’re doing, because I guess that much is obvious. He doesn’t rant and rave as I expect him to, just stands to the side as his sons bolt past him.

  They leave me to face the wrath, like the fucking jerks I knew they’d be.

  I should never have got suckered in by such perfect dicks. In every sense of the term.

  “I’ll see you two at home,” he yells after his sons as they disappear down the corridor, and his voice is laced with a cold steely rage, the most terrifying kind of anger.

  I’m trying not to cry as he closes the door and folds his arms, staring at me with that awful disapproval I’ve come to know so well. Only this time it’s worse, so much worse.

  “I’m sorry!” I blub. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Davenport!”

  He scowls at his broken sculpture and I feel so awful for the stupid things I’ve done.

  “Were they worth it?” he asks, and his voice is so cold. So calm. “Worth losing your job over?”

  I choke back stupid tears. “I was drunk. Stupid. I’m sorry.”

  “And was it worth it, Chloe? To ride two cocks at my expense?”

  I gulp in embarrassment. I don’t have any words.

  He smiles a bitter smile. Approaches close enough to pour himself a whisky in a discarded glass. Mine, I think.

  “They are pricks, my boys. They’ve always been pricks. Self-entitled good-for-nothings. So successful with women, though. I guess they inherited their mother’s good genetics.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Davenport,” I say again. “I’ll pay for the damage, I promise. I’ll pay for everything.”

  He laughs. Tips his glass at me. “That’s a twenty thousand pound sculpture you just destroyed.”

  I pale in horror, I don’t need to see my reflection to know that.

  I can feel my heartbeat in my temples when he shrugs and cracks a smile. It takes me so much by surprise that I have to grip his desk to steady myself.

  “I hated it anyway,” he tells me. “A vile thing. Margaret bought it for me, anniversary present. Should have binned the stupid thing long ago.”

  “I’ll pay for it…” I offer again, but he waves me silent. He stares at me, looks me up and down and I close my eyes, hating to see the horror as he soaks in the state of me.

  “You’ll pay,” he said. “But not for the sculpture.”

  I open my eyes and his are calm. Cold. But there’s something else there. That same determined look I’ve seen on him so many times, when I feel like he’s a wolf and I’m a lamb, a silly weak lamb who’ll never be good enough for him.

  “Not for the sculpture?” I ask, and my voice is meek and mild, like it always is when he’s instructing me.

  “No,” he says. “For the embarrassment.”

  He retreats to the doorway and heads to the left, and I know he’s going for my desk. I wonder what on earth he’s found out there, what incriminating item of work he can justify my dismissal with, like fucking his twin sons on his desk isn’t enough to warrant gross misconduct.

  I gasp when he comes back into view. Cover my mouth with my hands when I register the monster dildo in his hands, caring little for my brazen cleavage my dress hasn’t yet been straightened well enough to hide from view.

  “Go fuck yourself,” he reads, and pulls off the sticky note I left for him. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know this was from you?”

  “But I…” I begin, but he shakes his head.


  “Don’t insult me, Chloe. I check all your emails. I saw the order confirmation in your inbox.”

  “But I…” I start again, trying to remember using my work email for the purchase, but of course I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have been so stupid.

  And I know. It’s obvious.

  “You’ve been spying on me?” I say, like I’ve any right to judge him for anything.

  “Yes,” he says, just like that. “I’ve been spying on you since you started. I like to know everything about my close employees.”

  “So you knew…” I say. “You knew I’d ordered it… for you…”

  “I was hoping it was for you.” He laughs, and it’s so unusual to hear him laugh. “I should’ve known those pricks would make a play for you. They make it a mission to fuck the prettiest girls around. It took them quite a long time to get you, though, Chloe. Quite a long time.”

  I don’t want to tell him they’d never tried before, so I shrug. “I was drunk, too much champagne…”

  “And whisky?”

  I give a guilty nod.

  “And now?”

  A nervous laugh escapes me. “Now I feel stone cold sober. Morbid embarrassment has a habit of doing that to you…”

  “Yes,” he says, and his voice is stern again. “I know.”

  I nod, and the tears prick again, and in that moment I realise how much I love my job. How much I’ve always loved my job, even if Mr. Davenport is the biggest ballbreaker around, even if he never graces me with a thank you.

  “I’m really sorry, Mr. Davenport,” I say, and I mean it. “I let you down.” I fold my arms across my chest, trying to claw back at least a sliver of modesty. “I’ll leave now, and I’ll pay for the damage, just as soon as I find another job.”

  I take steps to leave, but he positions himself in the way of the exit, stares at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “What on earth makes you think I want you to leave, Chloe?”

  My jaw hits the floor. My eyes wide. “But you…”

  “I don’t want you to leave,” he says. “Quite the opposite. I want you to stay and work hard to pay back what you owe me.”

  Oh, the relief. It washes over me, feels even better than Seb and Dommie’s magic tongues.

  “Thank you!” I gush. “Thank you so much, Mr. Davenport, you won’t regret it! I’ll make it up to you, I promise! I’ll pay back everything!”

  “Good,” he says. “You can start right now.”

  And I have no idea what he means, just stare at him blankly until he picks up my discarded Secret Santa gift, the nipple clamps Dommie must have dropped on my desk on the way through.

  “If it’s good enough for my boys,” he says. “Then surely it’s good enough for me, no?”

  I have no idea what to say, no idea at all. I stare at him. At the guy I’ve been masturbating over for eighteen months. At his strong jaw, and his dark eyes, and the salt and pepper flecks in his dark hair. I stare at the promise of his toned physique, at the ridges under his shirt, the ones I’ve noticed so many times across his desk.

  I stare at the smile on his face and wonder why I’ve never seen this before. Never seen the way he looks at me.

  Never seen the way he’s so clipped, so guarded.

  He smiles. “Don’t look so shocked,” he says. “I thought it was obvious. I’ve been keeping my distance, fighting the temptation, but you must know you drive me insane, Miss Brown. You must know how much your presence tests my resolve, pushes the boundaries of professionalism.”

  “I didn’t…” I say and I mean it.

  He laughs. “Then I guess we’ve both learned something this evening.” He drops the nipple clamps and the stupid dildo on the desk and shrugs off his jacket. I can only stare. “They’re stupid boys,” he tells me. “They don’t know shit. Believe me.”

  He rolls up his sleeves to reveal toned and veined forearms and it gives me flutters. Those flutters again, my clit up to its treacherous ways like it hasn’t seen enough action for one lifetime already.

  “I want to see those tits,” he tells me, in that same clipped tone he uses to bark out instructions in the boardroom. “I want to see that sweet cunt the boys have already taken their pleasure from. I want to see that dirty little asshole, I want to hear you squeal for me the way you squealed for them. I want it all, Chloe, and I want it often. If you want to keep your job, that is.”

  I’m nodding, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

  Nodding and smiling, because I know, under all the rage and the blustering about how much of an asshole he is to work for, I know I’d do it if I didn’t owe him a thing. Just because.

  Just because I’ve wanted Mr. Davenport since the moment I started working here.

  Because every time he ignored my good efforts, or neglected to give me a thank you, it trampled on my soul just a little bit more.

  “All and often, Chloe, do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mr. Davenport,” I say. “I understand.”

  He pats the desk, just like his son did before him, and I see the family resemblance in their mannerisms, see why I wanted the twins so damn badly.

  I’m floating on air as I make my way towards him, hitching my ass up on that desk with a stupid dopey smile on my face.

  “All of it,” he says again, and this time his voice is a growl, just like his sons’ were.

  I nod. Hitch my dress up around my waist. Again. And he lets out a moan as he sees my swollen pussy.

  He looks into my eyes, and that ferocity is still there, that look I love so much when I’m honest enough with myself to masturbate over it.

  “All of it,” I tell him. “Everything…”

  “Good,” he says, and picks up the monster. Its big veiny shaft glistens in the light, and I feel my breath hitch.

  Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  He laughs as he sees my nervousness, and his eyes are firm, severe.

  “Spread your legs,” he tells me. “Wide.”

  And I do. I lean back on my elbows and spread my legs wide.

  “You deserve this,” he tells me, and my clit is buzzing again. Being a dirty little slut again.

  I feel the head of it press to my poor ravaged pussy, and I take a breath.

  Oh fuck.

  He graces me with a smile before he nudges the head into me. I moan at the stretch and his eyes are full of mischief. Then he spears me, slides it all the way in and takes a step back to look at me and I feel so helpless, so exposed, but so fucking hot.

  “Delightful,” he says.

  He picks up the nipple clamps, and he’s grinning. He’s really grinning. His smile full of life. Just like his sons.

  “I’m going to thank the boys for these later,” he tells me. “At least I got here before they got to enjoy all the firsts.” He steps closer between my legs, his crotch pressing against the dildo. He tugs at both my nipples at once and my head falls back and I let out a needy moan as he clips the clamps into place.

  “Delightful,” he says again and then his hands are at the monster dick, fucking me with it as my fingers find my clit.

  “Dirty bitch,” he says, pulling the monster free with a squelch that makes me squirm.

  “Please don’t stop,” I say.

  I hear a thump as the monster hits the carpet. I lift my head to look.

  “Stop? I haven’t even got fucking started,” he says, holding his thick cock in his hand.

  As I let out a groan, and his monster dick spears my tender pussy. His big hands grip my hips and he hunches me forward, fucking me deep, fucking my slick pussy, and it’s so fucking good, so fucking perfect as his skin slaps against mine.

  He’s perfect. Just like his sons.

  I tell myself to thank them for this. Right after I finish tearing them a new one for their stupid little escapades and all the trouble they led me into.

  Who knows. Maybe one day I’ll be their stepmother. A girl can dr
eam, can’t she?

  Stepmother to Sebastian and Dominic Davenport…

  Wouldn’t that just be a hoot?

  THE END

  Subscribe to Jade's newsletter

  Visit Jade on Facebook

  Part X

  Yule Be Mine Soon by Caitlin Daire

  Chapter 1

  Lara

  “All I want for Christmas is a big fat cock!”

  My best friend Tiana turned to me with a grin as she put a silly Santa hat on over her wild red curls, and I stared at her, scandalized. “Shh! Someone might’ve heard you singing that!”

  She giggled. “Oh, stop being such a stick in the mud. Do you really think anyone heard my attempt at rewriting that Christmas classic over all of this?”

  She gestured around us at the football stadium in our home city of Minneapolis. Despite it being Christmas Eve, it was packed with thousands of people, all eager to see the Minnesota North Stars go up against the New England Ragers in their first holiday season game of the year.

  I wasn’t much of a football fan myself, but when Tiana invited me tonight (apparently her boss gave her two free tickets as part of a Christmas bonus) I couldn’t say no. It was either this or a crappy office Christmas party at the headquarters of the entertainment news site I worked at, and the football game easily won out.

  “I guess not,” I replied with a grin. “Wait, we spoke too soon…look.”

  A lecherous-looking man with a patchy beard which crept all the way down his neck was staring at Tiana with a creepy grin on his greasy face, and he raised his thick eyebrows when he saw us looking. “I’ve got a nice big package for you for Christmas,” he called out from his seat.

  “Dream on, man,” Tiana replied, before looking back at me and sighing. “Is this really what’s out there for women now?”

  I smiled. “Oh, you’ll be fine. Anyway, I thought you were seeing Chris from your office.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, but what about you? You haven’t had a boyfriend since…” Her sentence stopped abruptly in its tracks, and she put her hand over her mouth before giving me a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I’ll stop bringing Ben up one day, I swear.”