Secret Santa

NOTE: Happy holidays to adults. Anyone else shouldn't be reading this.

Stan sat down at his desk and began typing.

"Dear T Man,

Thanks for your e-mail telling me how to download big tit clips from newsgroups. It was most helpful! I've got quite a few on my hard drive right now. God, did you see that one where the black guy with the big dick really gives it to the chunky girl with other-worldly big tits? Jesus, I'm creaming just thinking about it! He pounds so hard her boobs slap her in the face! In the nicest way, of course. Then when he slips his still-hard cock between those monstrosities, and it's STILL big enough for her to get a good slurp every time it comes near her mouth! Man, that was sweet. Anyway, thanks again. It makes me wonder how I used to get along back in the days when I had to go into a video store where nobody knew me! : )"

He glanced toward his office door. It didn't look like anyone was around, and if someone passed by the office, all it would look like was that he was typing, right? Stan snickered, figuring anyone would think he was working hard. He turned back to his e-mail.

"Please send me more links, especially to those sites that feature natural big titted girls. Those are my very favorite. Not that I would kick any of the huge implant-enhanced strippers out of my bed for eating crackers, but natural is best. Real rules!

Your e-friend,

Bob Mann"

Stan had chosen Bob Mann as his Internet name. It was close to Boob Man, but it still sounded like a real name. He clicked on "Send" and closed the program. He grabbed his notebook and headed down to the conference room for his weekly staff meeting.

Now, Stan wasn't foolish enough to be talking about such matters on his company's e-mail system. He'd heard about people who got in trouble talking dirty in company e-mail. No, he'd signed up for one of those web-based free e-mail services, so he could use it anywhere--at home or at work--without anyone being able to trace it. Stan only LOOKED at big boob web sites at home... but he figured it was safe to E-MAIL messages about them from work. After all, he wasn't Stan when he did that. He was "BobMann@dotcom.com".

Stan took his usual seat as the staff meeting began. Stan's boss cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen...the holiday season is approaching. Several people have asked me if there will be any office exchange of gifts this year. I know it's been tough economically, but I'd really like to continue the Secret Santa program this holiday season." The manager looked around to try and get a sense of whether this was the right decision or not. "I don't want to tax anybody financially, but people get such a kick out of having a 'Secret Santa'. Let's keep the gifts modest, ten dollars or less. Everyone will be given a name, and you'll be that person's 'Secret Santa'. You'll leave clues all the way up until Christmas Eve. If your person hasn't figured out who you are, give your gift. It's up to you whether you want to reveal your identity or not."

Stan looked at some of the other employees. He'd love to be picked as Secret Santa for some topheavy honey... but his company was sorely lacking in busty babes in its workforce! He sighed. Well, he'd do the Secret Santa bit... but it didn't seem like it would be much fun.

"All right!" said the manager, not knowing whether people were happy about the Secret Santa program or not. "Let's go on to other things. There's has been a certain amount of abuse of company Internet connections that we want to address..."

Stan tuned the rest of the boss's speech out. They must be talking about guys stupid enough to download porn at work. That wasn't him. He even got a company-generated log of his activity every morning. All it showed, outside of normal work-related stuff, was a number of visits to dotcom.com--where he read and wrote his personal e-mail. Stan knew that wouldn't attract attention. After all, lots of people went to dotcom.com to check stocks, read headlines, or use its search engine.

The droning of the boss nearly lulled Stan into a sleep-like state. Fortunately, the meeting came to an end before any embarrassing snoring began. Stan ambled back to his office.

"Nearly finished! I'll be out of your way in a minute," said an unfamiliar feminine voice as soon as Stan pushed his office door open.

Stan had a puzzled look on his face as he surveyed the person seated at his desk. Maybe it was an overstatement to call it a feminine voice. Its owner had close-cropped hair, horn-rimmed glasses, loose blue jeans, and a bulky brown sweater. She had the look that typed the word DYKE on Stan's subconscious before he had any other chance to learn anything about this person. He blinked. "Who are you?" he asked.

The woman stood up and extended her hand. "Jesse's my name," she said. "Really Jessica, but everyone's always called me Jesse." She punched a few characters on Stan's keyboard. "I'm from the IS department. You know, Information Systems? I don't know why they say Systems--it's just the computers we work on. Just checking a few things on your hard drive."

"Like what?" Stan wanted to know. "I haven't been having any service problems."

Jesse smiled. It was a friendly smile. "No, of course not! It's just that..." Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. "Someone back at corporate said you had downloaded some inappropriate software. I checked. It's just Flash. You need that for some business web sites, I know. I guess they just didn't recognize it." She began to gather her papers.

"Hey, wait a minute... Jesse," said Stan, fearing the worst. "Did you find anything that...?"

"No, no!" she said, making her way out of the office. "Not really. But--I'd be careful, if I were you. Understand?"

Stan nodded.

"Nice meeting you!" said Jesse and she maneuvered her bulky form through the door. "And if you DO have any problems with your computer, you know where to find me!" And she was gone.

No, Stan thought, I DON'T know where to find you. He was never sure where the computer people hung out. They just seemed to appear from time to time, the Information Systems department. He sighed and clicked on the Internet Explorer icon. In a moment, he was at his dotcom.com e-mail queue. He had a new message!

He clicked in. It wasn't a message from the fellow big tit lover he'd dropped a note to earlier. It was labeled "A Gift" and it said it was from "Stealth Claus".

"Stealth Claus"? Secret Santa!

Usually, Stan deleted messages from people he didn't know. Virus risk, after all. But this...? He clicked on it to read more.

"This first little gift is one of advice," read the e-mail. "Not all the things you say in here are nice." Oh, it's in verse, thought Stan. "You think your boss can't read these notes, be they short or long/But if you think that, you may find you are wrong."

"Signed,

Your Stealth Claus"

What the hell was this? Stan was a little spooked. He clicked "Sign Out" and even cleared the Internet history list.

Stan stayed away from his dotcom e-mail queue the rest of the business day. The note upset him. Did it mean that someone in the corporate office had been reading his notes about downloading big tit clips?

Didn't they have better things to do?

When the working day was over, Stan entered his bachelor apartment and immediately went to his computer. Here, he was safe to surf as he pleased. The company can't possibly care what he does in his own home. He couldn't wait to check that e-mail queue again.

There was another note from "Stealth Claus".

Stan clicked to open it.

"Your lust for big busts is very well known,
You search for them at work as well as at home.
And although every woman's blouse is carefully inspected,
You may find what you're looking for--in places you never suspected."

Geez, another poem, thought Stan. What is this? Are these clues from my office "Secret Santa"? Stan decided they couldn't be. No one in his office knew that Stan was "BobMann@dotcom.com".

Or did anyone?

When Stan arrived at the office the following morning, he nearly jumped ten feet in the air as he unlocked his office door and found his desk already occupied.

"Hey! How's it going?" asked Jesse, the IS department dyke. "I've reconfigured your internet access."

"Why?" asked Stan when he got over the shock.

"Oh, nothing to worry about," said Jesse, cleaning her thick glasses on her shapeless sweater. "Once again, something the corporate office insisted on. It shouldn't affect your daily work."

"Jesse, what does this mean?" Stan wanted to know.

Jesse looked over her glasses at him. "Stan, I'll level with you. You're a nice guy. Don't fuck up your career with stupid shit like this."

The language surprised Stan. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," said Jesse. "I don't care what Bob Mann says in an e-mail, but somebody does."

Stan froze at the mention of his screen name.

Jesse started for the door. "Look, I don't care if you act like a jerk. Just keep it at home--and not here at work!" She closed the door behind her as she left.

Stan just stared for a moment. Well. She had made her point. He'd better watch himself. He turned on his computer and immediately went to an acceptable business information web site.

He turned his head toward the door, where Jesse had left him moments before.

Was it his imagination... or did the last thing she said to him...

rhyme?

Stan walked into his apartment and hurriedly closed and locked the door behind him. He scurried to his home computer. This was the only place he dared to look at "Bob Mann's" dotcom.com e-mail queue.

Sure enough. There was a new message from "Stealth Claus".

He clicked to open it.

"The holidays are a time of good health and good cheer
But what you want is a woman with a good front and good rear.
I'm ready to help--I know you are hot
Be in your office at seven A.M. on the dot.

Your Secret Santa"

Stan puzzled. Was one of his buddies his Secret Santa? And would there be, like, a topless singing telegram girl at his office tomorrow morning?

Couldn't be. None of his friends knew the name he used on the Internet.

Could it be one of the girls at the office? Stan smiled as he considered the possibility. His boss' administrative assistant had an amazing ass! But this note said "a good FRONT and good rear". Couldn't be her. She didn't have that much up front. Well, some of the guys talked about her tits, but they were just average-big. Like maybe C-cups. Stan liked--no, DEMANDED--tits much bigger than that. Uncommon big. Huge big. Backache big. There was no one at work like that.

And besides... who the hell would know to tease him at THIS e-mail address? "BobMann@dotcom.com"?

Stan went to bed. He didn't know the answer. But he DID plan to be in his office at seven o'clock on the dot. Just like the e-mail said.

The key clicked as Stan opened his office door. An unexpectedly sultry voice ordered "DON'T turn on the lights."

Stan obeyed and stood there in the dark.

"I understand you like big tits," purred the voice.

Stan nodded dumbly.

"Don't just nod! I can't see you," she scolded.

"Yes, I do," said Stan softly.

"You like seeing a woman's breasts scrape the floor as you do her doggy-style," continued the mysterious temptress.

"Very much," answered Stan.

"You enjoy watching them jump up and down on a woman's chest as she cries out with joy when you slam your cock in her tunnel," whispered the woman.

"Yes," said Stan, suddenly finding himself short of breath.

"You love hearing the slap-slap-slap her great big tits make against her face as you give it to her," she said, with an anticipation that was absolutely moist.

"Mm-hm," stammered Stan, practically losing the power of speech.

"I know. I've read all about it," said the woman. Stan thought he heard the sound of her licking her lips. "And I know there's nothing that turns you on more than placing your rock-hard log in the softness of a big titted woman's loving cleavage."

Stan inhaled deeply. "Yes. Yes, that's true."

There was a pause. "Turn on the lights, Boob Man," she taunted.

Stan reached for the light switch. In a moment, a vision was revealed in harsh office fluorescent light.

In Stan's desk chair sat a pair of breasts. At least that's all Stan saw at first. A pair of broad shoulders, a gauzy see-through blouse and a big pair of tits. With dark, pointed nipples. And not an average-size pair of breasts.

These were big.

Uncommon big. Huge big. Backache big.

Stan's eyes wandered up. A teasing face, topped with short brown hair, smiled at him. "Who are you?" he asked.

"It's Jesse, dumb ass," taunted the top-heavy temptress.

"What? Jesse?" said Stan, walking around her, staring at her abundant, aroused breasts. "You can't be." He leaned over her jiggling jugs. "Where were you hiding THOSE?"

Jesse slowly swiveled the chair around until her barely covered nipples grazed Stan's nose. "Those sweaters and corduroys you see me in every day? That's kind of a costume I wear. I don't like guys hassling me, so I cover up."

Stan nodded, his hands reaching for the objects of his desire almost involuntarily. "And the... the dyke act?"

As Stan reached for Jesse's chest, she reached for Stan's crotch. "Think about it. I didn't do or say anything to make you think I was a lesbian. You assumed that from my appearance. But it's another thing that keeps tit-men from hassling me."

Stan had begun to rub her overflowing boobs through the gauzy material of her blouse. "You don't WANT me to do this?"

Jesse grinned. "You, I don't mind, Boob Man. I chose you," she whispered. "And hell--it's Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jesse," said Stan as he continued to explore Jesse's bust through her blouse.

"Merry Christmas," Jesse whispered back as she slowly lowered the zipper on Stan's pants. "I think we should BOTH unwrap our presents." She grabbed his cock forcefully. Stan had to stop his boob mauling long enough to step out of his slacks. As he stood there with his hardening manhood rising to the occasion, Jesse reclined in his office chair, rolling her jumbo jugs about in her hands.

"Go on," she whispered. "Unwrap."

Attached to the filmy material of the see-through blouse, just above each prominent nipple, were two bright red Christmas bows. Stan grinned as he tugged each of them until they were untied. Then he slid the blouse off her shoulders. Jesse gasped as the gauzy material tickled her nipples, which were becoming as prominent as two doorbells. Stan felt like ringing them.

Jesse spoke breathlessly. "You like?"

Stan nodded. "How about you?" he asked. "Do YOU like?"

Jesse giggled. "Yes, I like them very much. I especially like what they do to men like YOU," she said, gazing significantly at his taunting penis.

Stan jumped onto the desk, facing her. He grasped his cock. "Since you like them almost as much as I do, give 'em a taste." He started stroking himself slowly.

"You want me to suck my own tits?" asked Jesse.

"More than anything," Stan answered quickly. He began a slow and steady rhythm on his prized private part. Jesse mentally noted that it looked as though Stan had a lot of experience at that.

"Here goes," said Jesse, using a powerful hand to raise her weighty boob to her mouth. "I'm gonna open wide..." In an instant, her mouth was plugged shut by her hot, hardening nipples. Jesse slurped as she worked the other nipple with deft fingers.

"Oh, yeah," sighed Jack, his fingers dancing on his cock.

Jesse slurped until the hard nubbly surface popped free. Her nipple was at least twice its size and her boob bounced against her chest with its weight. Jesse kept her eyes on Stan's and kept her mouth open. A string of saliva stretched from her mouth to the nipple. She began to raise the other ponderous tit to her hungry mouth.

"Jesus," said Stan, still stroking.

Suddenly Jesse began to giggle through her mouthful of tit.

"What's funny?" Stan demanded, not breaking his rhythm for a second.

"Don't you see, Boob Man?" said the temptress, pausing to give her nipple a lick. "You're jerking your cock while looking at a moving picture." She raised and bounced her knockers at him to make her point. "You might as well be sitting in front of that computer you have at home, downloading mpegs from hooters.dk."

Stan stopped his manipulation, though he kept a grip on his dick. He grinned at Jesse. He raised his ass off the desk and leaned toward the objects of his desire. Jesse smiled to see her Boob Man's hard dick heading straight for her heretofore hidden cleavage.

Stan grunted as his member wedged its way between Jesse's ponderous boobs. Jesse reached around and pushed their softness around him. Stan started bucking up and down to maximize the cleavage/dick friction.

"Oooooh, yeah," gurgled Jesse. "Feel 'em! Are they taking good care of you? Watch this."

Jesse slowly slid Stan's manhood out. She reached for a doorbell-like nipple and grabbed it firmly. Using the thick and hard protuberance to hoist one boob skyward, Jesse used its hardness to trace a line around the head of Stan's cock. Stan cried a little involuntary "argh" sound. Jesse giggled warmly.

Lifting the lovely weight by the nipple again, Jesse prodded the hole with the crinkly nipple. She watched to see if it would trigger an avalanche of come. Not yet. Stan just hunched his ass harder.

Jesse held his cockhead in her soft hand and manipulated her upper body to start taunting it with her other tit. Stan grunted once more.

When she had brought him to the brink and backed him off two more times, she grabbed his cock hard. It was now pointing at the ceiling. Savoring the effect she was having on his masculinity, she pushed her pillowy tits around his cock again. This time, Jesse began moving up and down to caress his penis. She used her taunting tongue and soft loving lips to salute that cock head every time it made its presence known through her formidable cleavage.

Jesse was pretty sure from reading Stan's e-mails that he couldn't last much longer. Any guy that focused on tit play probably doesn't get it much.

She was right. Not only did his geyser begin erupting, but it had stored up so much that it drenched everything in its path.

Jesse had come in her cleavage. On her neck. In and around her lips. When Stan showed no signs of running out of the sticky stuff, he pulled back and grabbed his firehose in his hands.

He showered her tits and nipples like he was putting out a three-alarm fire. He even sprayed the smooth fleshy bottoms of her breasts and watched the jizz drool onto her surprisingly trim waist and thighs.

Jesse took a deep breath--a deep breath that made her magnificent bosom seem even more majestic. She opened her eyes and met his.

"It's better than video clips, isn't it?" she said with a twinkle.

Stan nodded.

"Know what I think we should do now?" asked Jesse.

Stan just looked at her blankly.

"It's still early. I bet nobody saw us come in," she said. "Let's go to your house and keep celebrating the holiday."

"Yeah!" shouted Stan, reaching for his slacks. He groped around them, unwilling to take his eyes off Jesse's surprise packages even for a moment.

"Tell me something," said Jesse as she slid her blouse back on.

"What?" asked Stan, his mouth dry.

"Do you think it's in bad taste to wrap presents back up and give them again?" Jesse teased as she re-fastened the red bows on her chest.

"Fuck no," said Stan, zipping his fly back up. "Merry Christmas, Secret Santa."