I always thought the holiday season was a magical and romantic time of year: The snow, the beautifully adorned trees, and the good cheer that everyone feels have always made me happy. Although I always loved Christmas, it wasn’t until my parents moved to New York City that I realized how much. For me, New York at Christmastime is like everything I had seen in old movies as a child—and something about the backdrop of the city’s hustle and bustle makes my favorite time of year just that much better.
And seeing all of the hot guys running around New York doesn’t hurt either. It’s a smorgasbord of sexy circling the city in three-piece suits. I can hardly walk down the street without ruining a pair of panties, thanks to all of the insatiable lust in the air. Since I’m unable to stand up under the weight of my incredible horniness, every year, when I’m not doing the whole family thing, I try to carve out some time to have a Christmastime fling. And boy does it make my two-week vacation in New York a lot more interesting.
The first one was too close to home—when my father’s boss came by for Christmas dinner one year. We had an insane chemistry from the second he walked through the door and we spent the whole night flirting with each other at the dinner table. Luckily, I was sitting next to him, so when my mother was passing the mashed potatoes, I was using my hand to jerk off Brian’s huge cock under the table. I was amazed at how he was able to keep his composure as I thoroughly worked him, and even remained stoned-faced when the trickle of come flowed between my fingertips. I kept my poker face on too, simply wiping my hand with the napkin that rested on my lap before I went back to eating my Christmas turkey and stuffing.
By the time my mother’s apple pie came out of the oven, my pussy felt like it was going to explode with desire for that man. Although he was twenty years older than me, he seemed to have the bravado and stamina of a college boy—and he was just as horny as I was that night. As my parents went to the kitchen to get some pie and ice cream, our dinner guest was rubbing my clit under the table with his fingers, making me wetter than the waterfall photograph that hung above our heads. When they got back to the dining room, Brian was enthusiastically licking my juices off his fingers, which my mother took as a huge compliment to the chef.
“My, goodness, Brian, I didn’t realize that you enjoyed dinner so much,” she said in her happy, singsongy voice as she placed dessert in front of us.
“This was about the best Christmas dinner I’ve ever had,” Brian said as he put his hand back underneath the table to rub my pussy again. When I dug into my piece of pie, he dug two of his fingers deep into my wetness. My breathing got heavy and I could hardly concentrate on chewing anymore. My mother must have seen the imminent ecstasy on my face, and probably thought that her culinary genius had topped itself that year.
“Francis, are you okay?” my mother asked me as I bit my lip to hide the fact that I was in mid-orgasm.
“Yes, Mom,” I said, catching my breath. “I’m just enjoying this pie so much. This is about the best Christmas dinner I’ve ever had.”
“I agree,” Brian said, licking his fingers again. “I might need seconds later tonight.” He slowly ran his tongue across his plump, pink lips and I thought about how I couldn’t wait for another helping of that delicious man deep inside my pussy.
“That can probably be arranged,” I said while grabbing his crotch under the table.
“Certainly,” my mother said. “I have more than enough if you’re still hungry.”
“Bless her heart,” I thought, trying not to stare at Brian’s crotch. “I hope Mom doesn’t get too disappointed when she realizes he’s not talking about the food.”
As is the tradition in our family on Christmas, we all piled into the living room to watch a holiday-themed movie after dinner. I can’t even remember what the movie was—I was too impaired by hot buttered rum and the hot desire that had set my pussy on fire that night. I wanted a heaping, steamy serving of Brian’s seconds, but I didn’t know how I would get to feast on them—at least not until he excused himself to go to the bathroom.
I waited for about five minutes, and when there was no sign of Brian coming back right away, I excused myself too—some excuse about having to check my work messages to make sure there were no fires I needed to put out.
“Bob, we seem to be losing our guests,” my mom said, laughing and putting her head on my dad’s shoulder as they continued to watch the movie. It almost made me feel guilty about what I was planning to do.
I timidly turned the knob of the bathroom door to find out if Brian had locked it. My heart pounded and a smile crept onto my face when I discovered that he hadn’t. I peeked through the crack of the slightly-opened door to find Brian standing in front of the sink, pants and underwear around his ankles, stroking his huge, throbbing hard on.
“Brian,” I whispered. “Do you need some help with that?”
“Francis, get in here,” he whispered back.
I tiptoed into the bathroom and slowly closed the door so my parents wouldn’t hear it.
“What the hell took you so long?” he asked me. “Your parents are going to think I have some serious gastrointestinal problems, I’ve been in here so long!”
“I thought you might be actually using the bathroom,” I said, still whispering. I hoped that Mom and Dad were too engrossed in the movie—even though they had seen it a million times—to notice how long we were gone. I locked the door just in case.
“Don’t worry, this won’t take long,” I said as I wiggled off my panties and hiked up my short, red, Christmas dress. I propped my body on the sink in front of him, and spread my legs wide for Brian to dive right in and give me some more of his special dessert.
“Fuck, I wish I had accepted your father’s Christmas dinner invites before,” Brian whispered in my ear as he thrust his cock into my willing wetness.
“I wish you had,” I moaned.
I put my arms around his neck and held on as he pounded my pussy against my parents’ sink. I eagerly met each of Brian’s thrusts, until we both exploded and collapsed into each other’s arms. Although it didn’t take long—the anticipation we built up under the table at dinner was more than enough foreplay for me—I did wonder if my parents would think it was weird that neither of us had gone back yet.
“You’d better get back out there; I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I whispered in Brian’s ear while sliding down from the sink.
“You’re right,” he said. He planted a big kiss on my mouth that made me want to drag him into the shower for another round. I put my panties back on and fixed my hair, concocting a good excuse if my parents asked any questions.
During my walk of shame back to the living room, I could hear Brian explain that his son and daughter-in-law happened to call him while he was in the bathroom, so he stayed there to send his Christmas wishes. I was happy—he was fast on his feet in more ways than one.
“Oh, look, we have our other guest back,” my mom said, tapping my dad on his shoulder. “Did duty call?”
“Yeah, Mom. Plus there was a wait for the bathroom.”
“Well, now that we’re all here, let’s have some more rum and start another movie.”
Brian and I spent the rest of the night sitting side by side on the couch, looking for any excuse to touch each other in some way. I hoped for an encore performance, but as the evening wound down, it became clear that I would end the night in my bedroom, masturbating alone.
“We have a second guest room, Brian, if you don’t want to drive home,” my mother offered.
“I would love to stay, but I can’t. I have to pack and get ready to fly out to see my son tomorrow. But I do hope we can all get together again soon after the holidays are over.”
“Well, we’ll be here, but I’m afraid Francis will be going back home on New Year’s Day.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe I’ll see you again next year,” Brian said as he stretched his hand out. I put my hand in his and began my limp handshake—to match my wilting libido—and watched as he pressed his luscious lips up against my hand.
I didn’t see him again, but that was okay. I did leave an impression though: I found out a few weeks into the New Year that my father had been given a promotion and a huge raise.
Yeah, I really love Christmas in New York.