Christmas Erotica
"Carol Singing" a sexy Christmas story by Kay Jaybee
“Are you sure it will work?”
The night before, made over a low-grade porn film, too many mince pies, and a bottle of wine, our drunken plan to seduce our new neighbor had seemed the height of erotic fantasy. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
“Not entirely, but it’s worth a try.” Freya dug a playful elbow into my side as we sat on the crimson sofa that dominated our living room, “Oh come on! What’s the worst that can happen?”
“He could be repulsed and turn us down flat. He could embarrass us about it forever more. He could move, he could…”
“Come off it, Carrie, we’re just going to be carol singers, it’ll be fun! It is Christmas after all, he’ll be sure to invite us in for a drink.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Not for the first time, I envied my lover’s confidence. Tall and slim, Freya’s naturally blonde hair and striking blue eyes constantly radiated her inner certainty.
Freya stroked a brightly painted fingernail across my freckled face. “Don’t look so worried, it’ll be fun. We’ll get dressed up, put on our overcoats, and go and sing to him. If he’s as nice as he looks, he’ll be neighborly and ask us in. If he doesn’t, we’ll come home and play on our own.”
“And if he does invite us in?” I felt my pulse quicken as Freya’s hand traveled from my face to my chest, squeezing my right breast sharply through my thin jumper.
“I suggest general flirting and lots of smiles to start with. After that, well…I have a plan. It’s been way to long since we shared a man, honey.” Freya bought her second hand to my left side as she spoke. “Plus, you know as well as I do, that once the action starts, there will be no holding you back, babe.”
“And him?” I couldn’t help but grin. I knew she was right, and anyway, Freya’s confidence was contagious.
“Him? He won’t know what’s hit him, babe! ‘Cause I know just what to sing.’
The front door opened mercifully quickly, so the street was spared much of our dreadful rendition of "The Little Drummer Boy." I watched as Freya gave our new neighbor her best sexy smile. And at the sight of him, I knew she had been right: this man was a prime target for our combined attentions. My fears that we were about to embarrass ourselves in a major way swiftly disappeared.
“Interesting singing,” he said when the song was finished. He flashed a grin at us. At six foot two inches, and undeniably well built, his neatly cropped, brown hair framed an oval face, dominated by two piercing, brown eyes.
Freya was still smiling at the man, who, just as she’d predicted, invited us in.
“If I let you try some of the punch my friends bought round as a house warming gift, will you promise not to torture me with your singing again?”
We laughed, both acutely aware of the twinkle in his eyes. Kicking off our outdoor shoes, I leaned against the kitchen table whilst he poured out three small glasses of aromatic orange and cinnamon punch.
“Sorry, we aren’t too good at singing, but it is Christmas.” Freya fluttered her eyelashes at him in a blatantly flirtatious way, “It was really just an excuse to say hello.”
He laughed now. “Well, it’s more original than coming to ask for a cup of sugar.”
“I’m Freya, and this is Carrie.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Tom, I’ve meant to come and say hi, but I’ve been neck-deep in boxes.” He put out his hand in greeting, and we took it in turn, feeling how warm and smooth it was, both holding onto him for a fraction longer than was strictly necessary.
The atmosphere in the kitchen shifted as the moment of physical contact passed, but somehow I could feel the memory of it lingering around the room. An awkward silence descended, and I began to fidget, pushing the ever-escaping sides of my long, red hair behind my ears.
“Not very seasonal in here.” Freya broke the tension.
“I’ve not completely unpacked yet, but I’ve not done too bad in the living room. You want to see? I just put my tree up.”
“We’d love to.” Freya grabbed my hand proprietarily, clearly showing Tom that we weren’t just housemates. Instantly, we were rewarded. We could see the fantasy-inspired lust flash across his face.
He cleared his throat, “It’s this way.”
“We know,” I looked up at him through my eyelashes, “your home is the mirror image of ours.”
“Of course, I wasn’t thinking.”
As we picked up our glasses of punch, we followed Tom into the next room. I took pleasure in the view of his tight backside, snug in his blue jeans. Freya winked at me, signalling that this was the right time for us to undo the buttons on our knee-length overcoats.
Tom had his back to us, as he proudly pointed to the newly decorated tree that stood as a beacon of festivity in an otherwise holiday-free house. A box of unused tinsel and baubles was abandoned on its side, spilling its contents out onto the richly carpeted floor. “What do you think? I’ve literally just finished it.”
“It’s beautiful.” I stared, genuinely impressed, at the flickering white fairy lights, surrounded by tastefully matching silver and gold tinsel, star shaped decorations, and an exquisite angel on the very top. It was an interior designer’s dream.
“You can come and dress ours if you want,” Freya glanced from Tom’s back to the tree, “you’re a damn sight better at this than we are. Ours always looks as if a Christmas shop exploded onto the branches.”
Tom turned to face us then, his mouth open in order to presumably dismiss our terrible tree-decorating skills as being perfectly good, when he registered our Christmas attire. “Bloody hell!”
We stood, matching blue coats flapping wide open, revealing the outfits we had carefully chosen for the occasion. Freya shimmered and glowed with quiet control. Dressed as an angel, her long, bare legs disappeared beneath a short, gold skirt that merged into a tight basque of silver, complete with wings. As an elf, I wore an equally short skirt of green and red fabric, with a button up top which clung to my more curvaceous figure, pushing my tits up and out, so that they were barely concealed beneath my costume.
“I, um...you look...wow,” Tom struggled. A new level of tension filled the small space between us as his eyes scanned our figures.
“Like our Christmas clothes? Shame it’s too cold to go without the overcoats, otherwise we would have sung at the neighbors like this.” Freya’s eyes shone at him.
“They’re very…they’re nice.”
“Nice?” I asked. We looked at each other, holding hands again as we regarded Tom playfully. “Only nice?”
“Well, not just nice, I mean...”
Freya giggled, the sound breaking through Tom’s discomfort. “A toast I think,” she said and raised her glass of punch, “to Tom, Merry Christmas, and good luck and happiness in your new home.”
“Thanks,” Tom muttered as his eyes openly roamed over us.
I’ve no idea how Freya managed her next move – she certainly acted as if it was a genuine accident, but it was so contrived that I’m sure Tom was not convinced. Suddenly, she stumbled over nothing, letting the contents of her glass fly through the air, soaking the front of his clean white shirt.
“Oh hell, I’m so sorry!” Freya leapt forward, and began to undo his wet shirt buttons.
Tom stepped back, “No really, I’m fine, it’s just an old top, honestly...”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re wet through, let’s get you out of this.” And without giving Tom a chance to argue, Freya peeled his shirt off.
“Oh my.” Freya hardly breathed the words, but they sounded abnormally loud in the otherwise silent room. I looked from my girl to our neighbor’s exquisitely toned and tanned chest, and back again. I knew we were both thinking the same thing. This guy was fit -- really fit.
“Enough messing about,” Freya sounded defiant, and shrugging her overcoat to the floor, placed her hands on her hips.
I dropped my own coat, and moved closer to Freya. “Let’s cut to the chase Tom,” Freya said. “You want to fuck us. That was apparent from the second you saw us hold hands.”
“I…” Tom’s face was a complex conflict of emotions as Freya spoke. I swear I could read his thoughts: So they’re not lesbians, they’re bi…and they want to…hell, I’m not used to this women-in-control thing…they’ve planned this…the two of them…
Freya didn’t wait for Tom to respond. She ran her hands across his torso as she said, “You are one cute bloke, and it’s been way to long since we’ve had a man, isn’t that right, Carrie?”
I nodded, my throat closing in on itself as I waited with impatient anticipation to see how Tom would react to the direct approach.
At last, without moving away from Freya’s wandering fingers, he spoke, “Stuff like this just doesn’t happen in real life.”
“There’s no reason why it shouldn’t,” Freya said, giving him a lopsided grin. “Consider it a Christmas present.”
“Two Christmas presents,” I added. I stepped behind him and circled my palms teasingly across his back. “Which one of us would you like to unwrap first?”
As if his brain had finally recognized that this was for real, and not some incredible, midnight fantasy, instinct took over. Tom grasped Freya around the waist as she inclined her head to kiss him full on the mouth. I positioned myself behind them, undoing Freya’s silver basque so I could simultaneously caress both of her nipples and Tom’s chest.
Whilst my fingers worked, Freya began to groan into our neighbor’s mouth. Catching her breath, she turned away, “So, if we are your Christmas presents,” her voice was tight with desire, “I suggest we get Carrie to undress first. She has certain requirements which, I alas, cannot provide.”
Without waiting for Tom’s approval, Freya tugged off the remainder of her own clothes and stood, naked and magnificent. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tom’s face flush.
“Unbutton your top,” she said to me.
Obeying immediately, my fingers fumbled over the small, red buttons. My sigh of relief as my tits were freed became purrs of satisfaction as Freya suckled at my breasts. But I was given only a few brief moments of pleasure before she turned to a mesmerized Tom, “I’m sure Carrie would appreciate it very much if you were to help me here.”
It was all the invitation he needed, and seconds later I was being treated to a double helping of attention. The contrast in their styles as they worked was incredible. Freya bit and grazed me with her teeth between hard kisses. Tom was softer, gentler; treating me as if I was some sort of delicate china that might break at my moment. I cried out in delicious confusion as they feasted, not sure if I wanted one of them to slow down, or the other to speed up.
Freya stopped, and reluctantly, so did Tom, making me groan with loss as my girl ordered me onto all fours.
Doing as I was told, I soon felt my short skirt hitched over my arse, and my elfish green knickers dragged to my crouched knees.
Freya’s voice came from above my head, “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
“She sure is.” He sounded breathless.
“Would you like to stick your cock in her mouth?”
“You bet I would.”
“Carrie really likes that, and the real thing is better than the dildo I can offer her at home. It can be your Christmas present to her.”
They were discussing me as if I was merely an object to be used, a sex toy to play with, and it was turning me on more that I could have believed possible.
Tom had obviously overcome any lingering reservations he’d had about the situation, for his jeans and boxers were at his ankles in seconds. Revealing a more forceful nature than his treatment to my breast had suggested, he pulled me to my knees by my hair and made my body sway as he roughly thrust into my mouth. His grasp at the back of my neck kept my head up so he could stare into my eyes as I sucked him off.
I was so consumed with what I was doing, that I didn’t have a chance to wonder what Freya was doing, so was taken by surprise when I felt a long piece of tinsel flick between my legs.
As she agitated the prickly decoration over my clit, Tom’s wonderful length slid up and down my throat. I began to quake uncontrollably. Freya, understanding the signs of my fast-approaching orgasm, slipped a finger inside me. I spasmed suddenly, and Tom let go of me, allowing me to slump to the ground.
Tom’s dick swung before him, hungry for more. Freya, the box of abandoned decorations by her side, beckoned for him.
“I’m going to tie you up now.” She tilted her head to one side. “Okay?”
He didn’t answer, nor did he protest when, taking the sticky tinsel strand she’d already used on me, she wrapped it around his wrists, fastening his arms behind his back. She led him to sit down on the wooden chair that waited before his computer desk, and took two more pieces of tinsel to fasten each of his ankles to the chairs legs.
If Tom had wanted to complain, he didn’t get the chance, for Freya stuffed a felt Christmas stocking between his teeth, wrapping it into place with a few twists of festive ribbon.
Freya took me by the hand, and pulled me into her arms. We stood so close that our nipples rubbed together, the exquisite scraping of our tips re-inflaming my flesh. “I think Tom would like to watch us, babe. A combined Christmas and house-warming gift.”
“Mmmm, yes,” I said and flicked my eyes over Tom’s magnificently captive body. “What do you think?”
He grunted something into his gag, which from the look in his eyes and the flagpole state of his dick, I took to be a “Yes!”
I continued to observe him, and as I fondled Freya’s alabaster skin, inhaling her musky aroma, his deep eyes became wider and wider. Dropping to my knees, I widened my girl’s legs for better access. I swear I heard Tom cry out through his restraints as I moved my tongue to Freya’s pussy.
Determined to give our neighbor a good show, I tugged Freya down on top of me. Soon we were a tangle of arms, legs and tits as we devoured each other’s bodies with our mouths, hands, and eyes.
Whilst we writhed on the floor, I caught sight of the remaining two glasses of punch on the coffee table. Breaking free, I indicated for Freya to stay exactly where she was, flat on her back with her legs spread. I picked up the nearest glass.
Freya’s body tensed as I took a mouthful of liquid. She’d guessed what I was about to do even before I’d dribbled the mouthful of juice over her magnificent nipples.
Evidently enjoying the erotic tableau we were creating for him as he watched me lap Freya clean, Tom’s gag was no longer functioning as such, and the muffled whimpers of lust he was making were getting clearer all the time.
I took another sip of punch, and spurted it up against Freya’s twitching pussy, enjoying the tasty combination of sticky alcohol and her natural juices, as she came beneath my lips.
As her body calmed, Freya took the other glass. We moved so that we lay face to pussy. We both took a large slug of drink, and continued to sprinkle the punch over each other.
The idea of the effect we were having on our captive audience-member was doing almost as much for me as Freya’s languid lapping, and my stomach started to knot. I eased my hands between us, making a grab at Freya’s breasts. She copied my action, and as we massaged each other, we shuddered in mutual climax, our cries almost drowned out by Tom’s, who had managed to spit out his gag completely. “Fuck, you two are …fuck!”
We both began to giggle, high on our own desire and the engineered state we had created in him. “Are you enjoying your present Tom?” Freya asked.
“Oh, hell yes, I mean, you are both just so…so…”
I crawled to Tom’s chair and straddled his lap, pressing his dick between us. “Just so…? You never seem to finish a sentence, honey.”
“You are just so damn hot.”
“Thank you.” I kissed him then, fully aware that Freya would enjoy watching us together.
I slipped off him. “Would you like to be untied?”
“Oh yes.”
“And if I did untie you, what would you do?”
“I’d…”
Freya sharply interrupted: “You’d do exactly what we tell you to do, correct?”
He looked at her and repeated her words, “I’d do exactly what you tell me to do.”
“He’s a quick learner.” Freya smiled at me and we both undid his restraints.
Freya guided Tom so that he stood up. She rocked onto her tiptoes and whispered into his ear, “I know we promised not to sing to you, but it’s Christmas, and we are here as carol singers, so I think you’ll just have to put up with it.”
He looked confused, and Freya ordered him onto his hands and knees. “We started to sing the 'Little Drummer Boy' earlier, for a very good reason. Do you know that carol, Tom?”
“Yes.” His voice sounded gruff as Freya began to scratch her long fingernails across his back.
“It has two particularly relevant lines for this situation.”
“It does?”
“Oh yes.” Freya continued to tease her nails over his back and buttocks, whilst I positioned myself besides Tom’s face and inserted my right tit between his lips. “I shall sing the first of these lines to Carrie,” Freya said.
Slightly off key, she sang, “Shaaaall I play for you, pa rum pump um pum? On my drum?”
“Please,” I replied quickly, fascinated as Freya brought her palms down sharply on her new drum. Tom’s arse flinched as she slapped him harder, making him grunt into my tit.
“A beautiful drum, don’t you think, Carrie?”
I could only murmur a response as Tom’s mouth worked furiously over me as he attempted to deflect the now continuous drumming of Freya’s hands against his prone flesh.
“How pretty your butt looks, Tom, it’s glowing a very Christmassy red.”
She knelt down, and pushing a hand between his back legs, seized his dick, making him bite down hard into my soft flesh.
I screeched as Freya took up the drumbeat again with one palm, whilst yanking at his cock with the other, making his mouth move with ever more corresponding ferocity.
Freya looked me straight in the eye. I knew she was telling me he was close, and I braced myself as she sang, “Come, they told me, pa rum pump um pum.”
With a final smack, Freya squeezed his shaft hard, and Tom yelled into my breast, spurting his load across the carpet as he sank to the floor.
High on power, I could tell that Freya was close to coming again, so I swiftly drew her to me. Standing over Tom’s body, we gave him one final show, as I stuck two fingers up inside my lover, working her off with four sharp thrusts.
As Freya’s climax subsided, we observed our new neighbor closely. Tom, trapped between our feet, was staring up at us, grinning widely, looking as if all his Christmas’s had come at once.
~
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Copyright December 2008, Kay Jaybee
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.