Early Christmas Present

I groan as the doorbell peals out, waking me from the deepest sleep I've indulged in for a long time. I ignore it, hoping that whoever it is – postman, probably – will give up and go away. Luckily for me, they do; but by the time I hear heavy footsteps crunching back over the frosty gravel, it's too late. I'm wide awake, and suddenly very aware of the empty space next to me in our bed. The glaring red of the digital clock tattoos the numbers 12.32 against my bleary eyelids, and you've long left for work. Damn! It's my day off, one of the days I've set aside for Christmas shopping and you didn't wake me. You knew I wanted to be in the shops by 9, but half the day is wasted already.

It's tempting to just curl up and go back to sleep. The heavy curtains eradicate the need to worry about what time of day it is, or what the weather's like. I'm gloriously warm and comfortable; the smooth crisp sheets have settled so perfectly over my naked skin that they feel like an extension of my body, and I'd be more than happy to just lay drifting in and out of sleep, revelling in the delicious memories from last night...

Just remembering yesterday evening sends shivers down my spine, all of which end up settling in the one place to which you gave such attention for so many hours. The memory of your tongue and your fingers, caressing, stroking, teasing me to orgasm after delicious orgasm is enough to make me squirm. I can imagine how difficult it must have been for you to leave me sleeping this morning. I picture you waking up, perhaps lifting the covers slightly and letting your eyes trail all over my naked body, unknowingly open to your gaze, lingering on my sleeping mouth, maybe watching as I unconsciously licked my lips, deep in a dream of you. Maybe you kissed me before getting out of bed and settling the covers once more over me. I'm sure you watched me as you picked up our clothes that had been strewn over the carpet, kept watching as you dressed for work. I know I wouldn't have had the same self-control. I wouldn't have let you sleep.

I close my eyes and imagine you're there watching me now, instead of sitting at your desk, probably tired and bored. I kick the covers off, exposing my body to the cool air, and, in my mind, to your eyes. I stretch my neck, tracing a finger down over the arched column of my creamy throat, imagining it's a trail of your kisses. I cup my breasts, rubbing my fingertips softly over the nipples that are already hard for you, desperate for the heat of your mouth. I moan gently as I caress them, tugging slightly at them, making them even harder for you, rolling them between my fingers. My hips rock slightly and my breathing gets heavier, imagining you watching me, your hard cock in your hand, picturing you stroking it over my naked body...

Almost unconsciously my legs have fallen apart, and one hand now slowly reaches down, slipping over my stomach, over the small strip of soft hair; probing, parting my smooth lips, my finger feeling how wet I am just at the thought of you, finding my clit and circling it softly. I'm still imagining you watching, your hand moving faster over your cock as I open my legs wider to allow you a perfect view of my glistening wet pussy as my fingers stroke over it, rubbing my clit, making me moan.

Suddenly, I become still as a thought hits me. What if you could see this? It's about time I gave you an early Christmas present; after all, I've been demanding them from you ever since November! Forgetting for a moment my fingers' aching pursuit of pleasure, I jump up from the bed, kneel on the floor and reach under it, groping around in the dark. Finally I find it, a large plastic bag, containing something I'd been saving for a special occasion.

I get back onto the bed, shaking the dust from the bag, and pull out its contents. A tiny little skirt, white blouse, white knee length socks and a tie; finally, after all your begging and hinting and wheedling, I bought myself a schoolgirl outfit. I was going to wrap it up and let you open it on Christmas day, but I'm feeling generous.

I'm grinning as I get dressed, little white cotton knickers and a matching bra, sliding soft over my skin. The skirt is minuscule, barely covering the knickers, and the white socks give it just the right edge. I can't believe how little the blouse conceals; it ties at the front, and most of my little white bra is on show. If I look carefully, as I know you'll be doing, I can just make out the dark circles of my nipples. I fasten my hair in pigtails and put on some shiny black shoes I'd been saving for the occasion.

All these preparations have made me even hornier, and my pussy is so wet and aching I'm desperate to give it some attention. I lay back on the floor where I can see myself in the mirror on the wall, my legs spread. I feel sexy and slutty and this only serves to get me wetter, so that when I slip my hand inside my little white knickers, my finger slides inside me with ease. But that's not what I'm meant to be doing now; I reluctantly pull my hand away, lick my finger clean and then reach into my drawer for my digital camera. After all, this whole idea was sparked by my desire that you could see me now...

I've never taken pictures of myself like this before, and it takes a few tries to get the angles right, but soon I'm into it, posing, enjoying the effect of the dappled winter light on my porcelain skin. I don't take any of my whole body, choosing instead to focus on individual portions; I know you'll have fun looking at them all, working out slowly that the flash of red plaid here, of white stocking there, all add up together to make that schoolgirl's outfit you've been so desperate to see me in. It's much better this way, letting you work it out from a few illicit glimpses, than giving you the whole thing up-front. I wish I could see your face when the realisation hits, but unfortunately that's not possible, so I settle for the next best thing.

I dial the phone and prop it under my ear as I attach the pictures to an email, the mouse pointer hovering over the 'Send' button. Soon I hear the click as you pick up, coupled with the low sounds of the radio in the background. "Hello?"

"Hey, honey," I croon, feeling flirty, swinging from side to side in the office chair.

"Emily! How's the shopping going?" I can hear you sitting back, pushing aside whatever you were working on, glad to hear my voice.

"Actually I didn't go, woke up too late," I inform you flippantly.

"Oh...that's a wasted day."

"Mmm."

I know you can hear the smile that I can't keep from curling my lips, and there's a short pause. "You sound weird."

"Oh, do I?"

"Yes..." I giggle, waiting for you to work it out. I know how well you know my voice. "You've been doing stuff!"

I giggle again at the childish euphemism. "Oh, whatever makes you think that?" I tease.

"I can hear it in your voice, you naughty little slut."

"Oh, I take it you're on your own then?"

"No, the whole company's crowded around my desk, I've got you on speakerphone. They think you're a slut too."

"Oi! Be nice or you won't get your present."

There we go. I can hear your mind working, curious. "Christmas isn't for a week, hun," you remind me.

"Yeah, but I was going to give you an early present. Today."

"Thought you didn't go shopping?"

"I didn't...this one's home-made."

"What, did you bake?"

"Stop ruining it! You know very well what it is."

"I've got an idea, but I'm at work, darling, it's not as if you can give it to me here." My smile widens, and slowly, I click the 'send' button.

"Check your email," I instruct you, finding it difficult to keep the excitement out of my voice. "Talk to you later. Bye!"

I'm shaking slightly when I put the phone down. I've never done anything like this before, and I can't be sure how you'll react. There's one thing I am sure of, though, and that's that you'll phone back – so when the phone rings in my hand, I'm quick to answer it. "Hey, you."

"Hello, you!"

I giggle nervously. "Did you like it?"

"I don't recognise that skirt."

"That's cos you haven't seen it before. At least, not on me..."

"You're beautiful," you say softly, and I can hear the sincerity in your voice. "You're wearing that right now? The outfit?"

"Uh huh. Are you imagining?"

"You know I am. Does it look good?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

We share another little laugh before I put on a serious voice. "But, I was actually phoning to tell you, I've been a very naughty girl recently. I've had lots of detentions and now I've been sent to the headmaster's office...to be disciplined." I hear your sharp intake of breath, which gives me the courage I need to continue; I'm not normally this confident. "He's not hear at the moment, but I'll be waiting for him. I'm really worried about getting into trouble," I continue, and I'll do anything if he'll let me off the hook."

It's a little obvious, I know, and even as I'm saying them it feels like my words would fit better in a cheap porno, but they seem to be doing the trick. When you speak, your voice is slightly raspy, an immediate indication of your arousal. "I think I may have to get suddenly and mysteriously ill this afternoon," you gasp out.

"Really?"

"One afternoon won't hurt...I'll be home in half an hour!"

"I'll be waiting. In the headmaster's office, obviously." I can hear your smile.

"God, I love you."

"And I love you too...sir."

We hang up, and I sit back in my chair, shaking slightly. I can't quite believe what I'm doing, but just hearing the excitement in your voice made it all worthwhile – I can't wait to see your reaction when you see me. It'll be difficult to stay in character!

Knowing you'll be home soon, I set about tidying up the study, placing a chair in front of the desk for me in true head's office style, facing you. At the last minute I run to our bedroom, search through a drawer and finally come up with something I've just remembered – my old prefect's badge from my school days, a little yellow shield which I pin to my blouse. I know you'll appreciate the touch.

When you get home, a mere 20 minutes after our phone call, I'm already waiting in the study, sitting in the chair facing the desk. I've got a lollipop in my mouth for good measure, and with the pigtails and prefect's badge, I look every inch the little schoolgirl. I try to keep from smiling as you enter the room, still in your suit. "Stand up when I enter a room, Emily. You're hardly in a position to be forgetting your manners, from what your teachers have been telling me."

I jerk to my feet, surprised that you're already so much in character. I watch you as you circle me, taking it all in; the short skirt under which you can catch a glimpse of my white underwear, the blouse that exposes my soft tummy and a large portion of firm cleavage, the high heels and white socks accentuating my legs. I catch your eye and we both smile, slightly embarrassed, before you move to sit down.

"So, you've been in detention a lot, Miss Jones," you say sternly.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir," I reply meekly, hanging my head.

"I must say, your conduct around the school leaves much to be desired. I see you, flirting with the boys when you should be in class. And that skirt is far too short!"

"I'm sorry sir," I repeat, my lip trembling slightly. Even though I know you're only acting, having you yell at me like that provokes a real reaction.

"You look like a slut, Miss Jones. I can see your knickers. I can see your bra. Are you a slut, young lady?"

"Yes, sir..."

"You know we have to punish naughty slutty little girls like you. Come and stand in front of my desk."

I move to your desk, knowing what's coming. You get up, come round to me, and, your hands on my shoulders, force me over. I'm bent over your desk, my short skirt exposing the very tops of my thighs and some of my ass, my breasts pressed against the cool wood. You lean over me, your hand in my hair, whispering in my ear. "Little sluts like you deserve to be punished. You deserve to be spanked." The words send a shiver over my body, and I manage to murmur my assent as your hand caresses my ass.

Suddenly, you bring it down, spanking me in one hard fluid motion. I gasp, feeling the sudden pain, but also the pleasure the punishment gives me. I can hear from your breathing that you're as aroused as I am as you spank me again, causing me to cry out, and jerk forward slightly. "Oh, you like that, don't you, you slut," you whisper, and I can only nod wordlessly, unconsciously thrusting my hips backwards, presenting myself more fully to you. "But these little knickers of yours are getting in the way, Miss Jones. Take them off for me..."

Your tone is so beautifully commanding I couldn't disobey if I wanted to. Turning round, I let you watch me as I slide the underwear slowly off my hips, down my legs, kicking them under your chair. The skirt is so short you catch glimpses of my pussy as I move, and when I turn back round and bend once more over the desk, my ass is almost completely exposed to you.

As would be expected, it hurts more when you spank my bare skin – but the pleasure too is intensified, and I can't help but moan softly. You spank me a few more times before pulling me forcefully up by my shoulders and spinning me around to face you. When you kiss me, roughly, I think you've forgotten your role, and respond eagerly to the familiar sensation, my lover's tongue grazing mine. However, you bite down hard on my bottom lip and pull back, looking at me. "You even kiss like a slut," you tell me, and the harshness of your tone turns me on even more.

"Get on the desk." I pull myself up onto the desk, sitting on the edge, facing you. The wood is cold against my bare ass, and my legs are clamped together, hiding the evidence of my extreme arousal. "Open your legs, young lady," you command, and I obey, parting them, exposing myself to your gaze, the moisture coating my smooth pink pussy, so wet for you, so turned on. I can see how hard your cock is inside your trousers, and automatically I begin to reach out for it before pulling my hand back, remembering my role.

You pretend not to notice, leaning forward and pulling my blouse open. I know how much you love my breasts and I arch my back for you, thrusting them forward, my nipples hard through the thin fabric of my bra, moaning softly as your hands cup them. You kiss me again and I respond even more this time, my arms circling your neck, pulling you in to me, closer, my legs finding your waist and clamping round it. I can feel your hard cock through your trousers, rubbing directly against my painfully wet pussy. We both moan as I fumble to undo your trousers, my legs holding you close to me. You reach down to help me, pushing off your trousers and your boxers, releasing your beautiful cock to my eager hands. "Mmm, you're such a good girl...such a naughty slut," you moan, as I grip your cock, stroking up and down it, rubbing it in the wetness of my pussy. I whimper, trying to move closer to you, feeling you hold your hips back from me. Wanting you inside me, desperately needing to feel you slide deep into me.

"Do you want it?" you whisper, your breath hot against my neck. "Do you want my big hard cock in your tight little cunt, you slut? Do you?"

"Yes, sir!" I gasp, whimpering more loudly, my hips rocking against you.

"Beg me," you insist, eliciting a long moan from my lips.

"Please sir..." I know exactly what you want to hear. "Please sir, fuck me, please fuck me...I'm so wet for you..."

Finally you can take it no longer, and thrust into me, hard and fast, pushing the whole length of your big cock into my waiting pussy. I lean back, resting my weight on my hands as you take me over and over, fucking me harder than ever before, using me for your pleasure. I cry out as you reach down and start to rub my clit, circling it, stroking from side to side, knowing exactly what I want.

I scream out as I cum, harder than I have in a long time, and you grab me and kiss me hard as your orgasm joins mine, my legs clamped around you, our lips pressed together.

Afterwards, you carry me to the chair, sitting down with me in your lap. Neither of us can quite speak, but you stroke my cheek, as I rest my head happily on your shoulder. Even now I can see your eyes moving over the schoolgirl outfit, now wrinkled and undone, and I know we'll have a lot of fun with it in the future.