Stocking Fillers - Erotica Read online

  Stocking Fillers

  by Mouna Lott and T. H. Rusty

  Copyright 2011 Mouna Lott and Thomas Halton Rusty

  artwork and photography by Mouna Lott © 2011

  Smashwords Edition

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Discover other titles by Mouna Lott and T.H. Rusty at http://www.smashwords.com

  Title : 'Brief Encounters http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/93774

  Title: 'Sex Games 2' http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/92625

  Title 'Sex Games http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/92622

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  Table of Contents

  Christmas Cracker

  Christmas Eve

  Ghost of Christmas Past

  Sugar and Spice

  A Christmas Carole

  Christmas Cracker

  by

  Mouna Lott

  I am going to make this the most memorable Christmas ever. He said let's do a really special surprise for each other on Christmas day. Anyway, he's popped out, I think to get my present. So I've got everything ready.

  One very large box which I've carefully wrapped in sparkly paper and added a huge bow to. I'm just getting the finishing touches on. I've wriggled into the red fur edged peekaboo bra and tiny red fur trimmed thong, suspender belt and red stockings, six inch black stiletto heels. I look pretty hot. I love these kind of undies, they make me feel really sexy. I'm getting wet just from feeling how my tits are caught in the tight squeezey bra and the patsies with the long tassels that cover my nipples. When I take the bra off I can twirl the pasties like I do when I'm working at the lap dance club. That's where I met Keith. He's a bouncer there. It was lust at first site when he started two months ago and now we're a hot couple and I'm ready for some good Christmas stuffing! He knows I don't muck about with the clients. Just do my job and get out of there. It's enough money. I don't do the back room sessions.

  I've just put on the furry christmas hat. I've been performing the Christmas routine for the last few weeks with the other lap dancers but Keith's never seen it because he's on the door. There, that looks perfect! Now I have to move the huge box down stairs into the front room.

  Here we go. I'll put it right here in front of the Christmas tree, I love all those lights flashing away. It'll add a nice background stage to my one-on-one show for him.

  Oh! I can hear the key turn in the lock. I'll just clamber into the box and if I pull on these two strings I can close the lid down. There we are. A bit of a squash, especially with the boogie box in here. Ouch! I've sat on one of the spiky heels which is sticking in my ass, but I can't change position now.

  He's saying hello. Tee hee! He's going to be so surprised. Now he'll get to experience the joy I bring with my work. He'll love it! I think that's the living room door opening. Yes! He's calling my name. I can hear him breathing heavily.

  OK here goes, I turn the boogie box on and...

  'Surprise!' I say, springing up like a jack in the box, my firm tits jiggling up and down from the movement, the pasties twirling, arms above my head, big smile on my face.

  Which freezes as I look from Keith to his best mate struggling to bring in a huge Plasma TV screen in the door. Never mind that it's an amazing telly! It's off the back of a lorry no doubt! What about me? How do you think I feel standing here showing my assets off to more than I bargained for. They're both standing goggling! My face is now as red as my costume.

  The music keeps playing the old Jackson 5 number I've chosen: 'Give Love on Christmas Day' and I've got this fixed smile on my face that's turning into a grimmace. I suddenly know exactly what am I going to do. The show must go on! I do my hip swaying provocative dance, step out of the box and begin the whole routine. They’ve put the telly down and are sitting on the sofa gaping like fish with unblinking eyes. Bra off and the pasties take the guys' eyes with them, round and round like playing with a toy in front of a kitten. I don't have a pole but it doesn't stop me high kicking, bending and gyrating.

  I move in on Keith's mate, giving him the slow crawl down his body 'til I'm level with his crotch. I go through that sexy tease suggesting I want his cock out in my mouth, sliding my hand across his enormous bulge, feeling him quiver. I move back up and squeeze my tits together right in front of his face, straddling him and rubbing my hot little pussy against that manhood of his trapped inside his jeans. Standing up above him I rub my pussy through the fabric and then step lightly across to Keith. My thighs are level with his mouth and I release the fastening and whip the thong off to show him my neatly shaved pussy, all wet and willing.

  He licks his lips but before he can move in on me I slide back down rubbing my breasts against his front sinking onto his lap until my pussy connects with that big gun he's got stuffed in his jeans, ready to shoot his live ammunition into my sopping throbbing honey pot. I hear him growl when I make a move to unzip him and he springs up, grabs me by the waist and guides me out of the room into the bedroom to a round of applause from his mate. For the first time since I started lap dancing I get to take someone into the back room.

  I pick up where I left off, easing his massive hard on out of the boxers and give it a big lick.

  'Happy Christmas Keith,' I say and enclose him in my mouth.

  'Yeh, baby. You certainly surprised me,' he replies

  I'm sucking away but stop to say 'Not half as much as the surprise you gave me, bringing your mate round!'

  Yes, this is a whole lot of love on Christmas day.

  Christmas Eve

  by

  T.H. Rusty

  Christmas eve. 8:35pm.

  Snow gently floats down from the sky, coating the city in a blanket of winter wonderland. Festive lights glow around every corner, greens and reds lighting the sky. Marching through this biscuit tin version of the holidays is Michael, his arms tucked under his coat. Unlike everyone else he is passing tonight his head is not looking up at the lights and sparkle. His head is down, nestled deep in his scarf.

  To anyone passing him he looks like a guy who doesn't enjoy the cold, or perhaps this time of season. In actual fact he loves this time of year. Problem is, he's forgotten to buy one last present. Late working nights and deadlines upon deadlines have not left Michael with much time for the little things. Things like this, making sure he has everything ready for when the family turn up and the awkward conversations begin. But of course he's forgotten Aunt Violets present.

  Throwing himself in to the nearest shop his mission is simple: find anything. It's not like any of them really look at the gifts you give them anyway, it's symbolic more than thoughtful. Dusting the remnants of snow from his coat he scans the department store looking for something quick and easy to buy, so to spend as little time on this as possible. As he continues to look around though his eyes glance over a young thin man dressed poorly as an elf. Big mistake. With alarming speed the elf rushes over, arms almost glued to his side. His smile is wide and beaming, seeming incredibly fake at this time of night. His well gelled hair catches every speck of light, blinding Michael in an instant.

  'And a good evening and merry Christmas to yourself sir
! Can I help you with anything tonight?'

  His energy startles Michael in to life, probably the result of far too much coffee and not a lot of sleep.

  'Oh no, just browsing thanks.'

  'Well do take your time, and if you need ANYTHING at all, don't hesitate to find me.'

  Michael looks around awkwardly for a second, trying not to look him in the eyes again.

  'Ok, will do.'

  The elf sprints off in search of other desperate prey leaving Michael to find this illusive present. The problem Michael thinks is not that he hasn't a clue what she's like...just he has no idea what she LIKES.

  His saviour though comes in the form of a bored looking woman behind the jewellery counter. Leaning over and admiring the shiny trinkets, he can't help but peek down her top. While on the thin guy the elf costume looked ill fitting, on her it is perfect. Tightly formed around her it looks like her bust is ready to explode out of it. She looks up as he walks over, a small 'how can I help' smile works its way across her face. Pulling herself upright he is allowed a better look at her. The stretchy material makes her look like the best present ever, her auburn hair tied up as if they are her bow...

  'And what can I help you with today sir?' she asks, an air of sarcasm to her voice.

  'A late present for an Aunt who I am pretty sure won't even look at it,' he replies, his eyes wandering dangerously low.

  'Well then, I think I have just what you need, follow me'.

  Smiling as she turns around Michaels eyes wander down to the green foil like skirt as it barely contains her ass. He's followed far worse he thinks to himself. She leads him round the corner to what he only can think is the loading bay, pallets and boxes strewn everywhere.

  'So....do all the late night shoppers get this treatment?' he asks.

  'Oh shut up and get in here,' she orders.

  Pushing him up against the side of a small office she kicks the door shut and jumps on him, grabbing his arms in the process.

  'We don't have a lot of time,' she whispers to him as her lips brush his ear, nibbling slightly as his hands follow round her body.

  'Fine by me,' he hastily replies, his hands feeling down her body to the edges of her skirt.

  Her hands get to work in the same way, following down his body and working away on his belt. Their kisses are hard, lustful, an explosion of passion. For every connecting kiss there are several that end in small bites, licks and bruises. There is no pandering to romantic notions here.

  'Pick me up, now!' she orders again, locking eyes in that way that means business.

  'Yes ma'am!'

  His hands reach down and hitch the skirt high, feeling the curve of her ass as his fingers hem around the edge of her panties.

  'Side tie baby.'

  He needs no more incentive. Quickly undoing the sides, her panties flutter to the floor, maybe this was where the bow was really.

  Her hands have also worked their magic on his lower half, his trousers just 'magically' now lying around his ankles. Her hands are warm to the touch, making short work of his ever increasing manhood. He could have thought about anything right now and it wouldn't matter, he's getting hard and it is good. Her hands slide up and down his shaft slowly, massaging him again and again. He can feel the blood drain from his body in to his cock, aching to be used. His fingers ease her pussy open to prepare her, and she doesn't need much. His fingers are already wet as he slides one in, the whispers of hair pointing him to the good spot. He can feel the heat radiating off her pussy, begging for more.

  In one movement she hops up on Michael and kisses him deeply, wrapping her legs around him high up his body. His hands move to his own cock and lead it to the sweet spot, much to her joy. He eases in to her, feeling her muscles let him in, but only just. His eyes roll back as the feeling over comes him, her body doing everything in its power to pull him in. He feels his cock shudder and grow to it's limits, filling her and causing her to moan out wildly. He can feel her legs tighten around his sides as he pushes deeper in to her. She picks herself up and begins to really push down on him, her ass slapping down harder and harder. She kisses him harder and harder, the pace quickening as their bodies work in unison.

  'You back here Eve? We've got people waiting,' a voice calls out.

  Both of them freeze in an instant, and before they know it they are giggling to themselves. She pushes down on him a few more times, slowing the pace as they look at each other. Sliding off him she keeps her eyes locked.

  'Well, I guess I better get back out there...see you at home?'

  Michael smiles at her, brushing her cheek.

  'Of course, but could you do me a favour?'

  'Honey we don't have time to finish,' she laughs.

  'Not that you minx...but could you get me a present for Auntie Violet?'

  She smiles at him one more time before kissing again.

  'Merry Christmas baby.'

  Ghost of Christmas Past

  by

  Mouna Lott

  The first time I ever did it was at the back of a beach in a pine wood. We were both on family holidays. We were both eighteen and about to go off to college. That one idyllic summer of love. We proclaimed our love to each other under the starry sky. We made love outdoors. The rough bark against my back, our fumbling impatient fingers. The intoxicating smell of tree resin in the rain. Well an English summer does suggest wetness. I was always wet that summer. Wet clothes from the rain. Wet kisses. Wet between my legs from my desire. Wet panties. He was always hot. Hot breath, smouldering eyes filled with lust. Hot hands running over my damp skin. Hot kisses. Hot cock pressing into my wet pussy. We were opposites. He was Apollo to my Venus. We planned our future of love, talked of meeting up at Christmas after our first term at college. We made so many plans with sparkling eyes and broad smiles. Plans that never happened.

  We would lie for hours in those pine woods, the rain falling softly through the bladed leaves. Some days we'd make love so sweetly the birds would sing around us, a wood pecker's hammering against those mighty Scots Pines which moaned in soft breezes echoing with our whispered sighs. Our cries of lust catching in the high branches.

  But it's the smell of the pines, kneeling in needles with his hot throbbing cock in my mouth that can trigger memories every Christmas, igniting my lost love for him forever.

  I bought a synthetic Christmas tree that first year I married, because I married someone else. A great guy, good father, but they say you always remember your first love. I've tried so hard to forget mine. Never use pine fresh in the bathroom, always floral fragrances, floral shampoos, musky aftershaves for my husband Paul.

  But this Christmas Paul decided we should get a real tree, six foot tall with beautiful spreading branches. The old synthetic tree was too shabby, he said. I thought about it and decided that after eight years and having two kids, now five and three, I really ought to be over that feeling. It's just a smell after all.

  So off I go in the car to a garden centre on the outskirts of town to get it. We live a few miles from the market town in an old farmhouse. The twisting country roads are icy and it's threatening snow. Perhaps this year we will have snow for Christmas. The kids would love that. They break up from school and nursery tomorrow so I'm trying to get everything organised before mayhem begins and their over excitement leads to sleepless nights.

  I drive slowly, the ice has brought curling tendrils of fog around the high hedges on the country lanes and I have put the fog lights on. I breathe a sigh of relief when I turn off into the garden centre. It's one where all the trees and shrubs are planted out in fields and you have to have one of the gardeners come and dig up what you chose. It's the same for the Christmas trees they sell.

  There are Christmas lights all around the building but I wander off down one of the icey pathways to choose a tree. That's when it hits me. That sharp fresh smell of pine and my heart flutters. I touch the soft needles of the nearest tree and inhale deeply. I feel the tightening in my stomach as the memory
of his hands on me floods back. I walk deeper through the regimented rows running fingers along the sap-filled rough trunks. The sensation triggers the memories. I remember him so clearly.

  Then I suddenly feel it, that tingling sensation that someone is watching you and I look up, peering into the mist. There he is! It's him, I'd recognise him anywhere. How weird that he's here. How amazing to see him today after all this time. It must be my imagination.

  I look again and he's still there, walking towards me not looking a day older than when we were lovers. His golden hair curling around his broad shoulders radiates in the cold air. The blue eyes like pools of azure sea, shine. That easy walk of his, oozing sexual prowess, godlike.

  'Ruth,' he exclaims in that strong soft voice which caresses my ears.

  I stand rooted to the spot, like a tree caught out of line, out of place.

  'Gabriel?' I whisper and then before I know it my legs run toward him, my arms welcome him and my hot kisses fall upon his neck. Every thought of my life forgotten, obliterated by his presence. He hands feel cold against my neck and my kisses are returned passionately, damply in this misty grove.

  Before I can think my gloves and hat are discarded and my hair tumbles about, damp in the cold. Our hands find each other, grope through the layers of thick clothing in a flurry. Fumbling we release inner garments and wrap our coats around each other's nakedness. He turns me to rest against a sapling and it bends to our weight. His hands squeeze my breasts, pinch the nipples already hard from the cold but now aroused from his touch and tongue exploring my mouth. He tastes salty. I feel his cock spring to life under my impatient fingers and moan my want.