The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in
locations in which it is legal. If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT
read. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any other use strictly
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noncommercial archive sights.
Copyright 1998 by E. Z. Riter.
E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com
Please! Give me your comments.
Dear Reader, This is satire. Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a fun
night! E.Z.
CAROL'S CHRISTMAS
Tomorrow would be Christmas. The thought depressed me.
In June, my husband left me for a friend of our half my age.
He left me with two children, Mandy, 19, and Jason, 17. The six months
since he departed had been almost impossibly hard as I struggled to reenter
the work force and keep my together while suffering the pains of
abandonment and loss.
I had always been a good wife, a loving and caring wife. I worked hard
to keep my body in shape to please his eyes and his hands when they chose
to wander over me. I strove to keep his house clean, his table larded with
the foods he desired, to make his home a happy and peaceful place for him.
I never denied him, never claimed headache or tiredness. Never.
Always, I eagerly and happily did anything he wanted. For all those years,
I was the type of many find only in their sexual fantasies. That
is as it should be.
I, too, enjoyed those activities. My sex life with him had been rich
and fully rewarding for me. My husband knew exactly how to please me, how
to make me scream in pleasure. He called me his Stradivarius.
"I can play you like a master. I can make you sing, Carol," he would
whisper in my ear as I groaned in joy.
I had dated many different since he left me. Some I bedded. With
none did I find the deep and personal joy I found with my husband. None
made me like he did. I missed that more then I missed him, I fear.
And, after six months, I desperately wished for a who once again could
bring the songs of carnal pleasure from me.
Is it true what they say about violins? Do they need to be played daily
to keep them at the peak of their quality? I do not know if a violin of
wood and strings is that way. But, this violin, this body of mine, needed
to be played.
On Christmas Eve, we returned from Midnight Mass. I kissed my children
goodnight and climbed into my cold and empty bed alone. Tears slipped from
my eyes until sleep took me away.
At first, I thought it was a dream. I felt my bed move so very
slightly. I felt a faint touch on my arms, felt them move under another's
guidance, felt hands gentle on my wrists. Soft hands placed something over
my eyes. My eyes opened but I could not see. I knew it must be a dream.
Yet, I tried to move, only to find my arms bound above me to my bed.
"What? What's happening?" I cried out.
A rough hand crushed my breast. I felt my flesh ooze between my
captor's fingers as pain coursed through my body.
"The big titted slut's awake," a voice said. "Let's play with her."
Humiliation crashed through me in waves of hurricane force. My skin
prickled as sweat poured from every pore. The heat was overwhelming,
making me fear I would faint.
"No, please, no," I begged. "Let me go."
Hands on my legs. I resisted vainly as they pulled them apart.
Something hard was at the entrance to my pussy.
"Oh, God! Please!"
It pushed into me, filling me, as it was rammed into me until its head
rested on my cervix. I heard my cries as my captors yanked my legs
together and bound my ankles. A hand jammed between the soft flesh of my
inner thighs made me squeal as fingers turned on the vibrator buried in me.
"Oh, no, no. What are you doing to me?"
There was no response. All was quiet except the buzzing of the
substantial toy filling me to capacity and the labored gasping of my own
breathing. Even if I had fought my own woman's needs, it would have been
in vain. But, I did not wish to fight my need as it exploded in me. My
need. It had been so long for me, so long since as orgasm. I twisted. I
turned on my bed, struggling against the bondage which held me, yanking
against the ropes tying me securely. Each twist, each turn, seemed to
magnify the energy wracking my body.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," escaped my lips as I struggled, trying to open
my legs bound tightly together.
How cruel my captors were! How devilishly cruel on this dark Christmas
morn! They did not touch me. They let me squirm and twist and whimper as
I struggled against the ropes, and felt the massive toy so deep in me. It
was driving me mad with its vibrating.
"The slut seems to like this," one finally said.
"Perhaps, she'd like to be whipped," spoke the other.
"What did you say?" I tried to clear my mind, tried to think. But, the
need for sexual release overpowered conscious thought.
"Oh, my god in heaven. Sweet Jesus help me," I screamed as the lash
caught me full across my torso, its multiple strands reaching from my
bloated and erect nipples and the flat of my stomach under my navel.
"Oh, please! Please!" I begged.
I rolled over, my face buried, my hair in my mouth. The sheets seemed
hard and rough on the tender flesh of my where the whip had caught
me. I felt the lash again, then again, on my ass and thighs exposed and
available to my captors.
"I....I... oh my god, oh my god."
In reflex, my legs jerked, bending at the knees, as the first telltale
sign of a massive orgasm.
"Oh, I'm going to cum! I'm going to cum! Oh, no. You sorry bastards!"
I yelled as my captors grabbed my legs and straightened them. My orgasm
stopped. It stopped, leaving me in a heat and need I could not stand.
"Please! Please! Let me cum!"
"What are you?" a voice next to my ear whispered.
"A hot slut. A cock loving, hard fucking, hot slut! A slut who needs
discipline! A wild slut who loves to be bound and fucked! Please. It's
Christmas, for Christ's sake! Let me cum!"
Nails dug into my breasts, long hard nails, sharp and pointed. I
squealed from the pain.
"Do you like to eat pussy?"
"Yes! Yes!"
A covered my mouth. It was hot and juicy, slimy with its own
excretions. The smell was overpowering as I buried my tongue in it,
lapping the nectar there. Oh, how sweet! What a delicious I thought
as she ground into me. My ankles were untied as I and licked. My
legs were spread. No I wanted to scream as the vibrator was silenced and
eased from me. No, don't, I would have said had not the covering my
face not rendered me speechless. I squirmed as someone slapped me hard on
the inside of my tender thighs.
The woman over me groaned. Her hands grabbed my hair, yanking me
further into her. I lapped frantically as her thighs spasmed around my
head. A gush of juices covered my tired but happy face. She groaned as
she rolled off me. It seemed our mutual gasping for air harmonized,
breaking the silent night with the aftermath of sex.
A was between my legs. I felt his prick nestle at my entrance. I
whimpered, trying to get him in me. I wrapped my legs around him,
struggling to draw him into me.
"Want to be fucked, slut?"
"Yes. Yes! Oh, God, don't tease me! Fuck me! Ram it as hard as you
can! I need it so!"
He slammed into me.
"Oh, yes, Jesus, yes. Fuck me with that magnificent cock!" I screamed
as the muscles in my thighs began to tighten.
"Oh, lord, lord. Oh, lord. Please, lord. Here I come! Here I come.
Oh, please, lord. Ahhhhhhh!"
It didn't stop! Sweet God in heaven, the orgasms didn't stop!
"Fuck me! Don't stop. In the name of God, don't stop! Please! More!
More! Oh, god, please, more!"
Orgasm after orgasm! Waves pounding me! Again and again and again!
Finally, I collapsed, my body inert, unable to move, to think, to orgasm
one more time. I had never been this satisfied.
The between my legs stopped. I felt him crawl up me. Then, I felt
the hot spurts of as he came on my face. I opened my mouth to catch
it. I licked my lips, tasting him. Hands untied my arms from the
headboard. Then, a collar was put around my neck. The lock clicked loudly
as the collar was fastened to me.
"We're having a Christmas Party at two this afternoon. We've invited
about ten and ten girls," Mandy said.
"You'll be chained to this bed by your collar. Anyone who wants you is
going to have you," Jason continued. "You're going to fuck and suck and
eat until you can't move."
"Oh, my lord. How did you know what I wanted for Christmas?" I replied,
tears of joy streaming down my face.
"We love you, Mom. We know what you want."
"Yeah, Mom. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, kids," I said, as I drifted back to sleep.
The End and Ho, Ho Ho, to you.
Please! Give me your comments!
E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com
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