The Christmas Party

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A woman attends a party that proves to have a twist.
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She stared out the car window at the lights on the houses that they drove past. Red and blue and white light bounced off the snow and skipped across its surface before being swallowed by the darkness. Reindeer, snowmen, angels, and plastic Santas stared back at her from front yards, picture windows, and rooftops, each a silent sentinel of the holiday season. So many signs proclaiming "Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men" lined the streets that she could almost hear it as a chant.

She turned to look at the man beside her. She studied his profile outlined by the light from the dashboard. She traced with her eyes the features of his face . . . his forehead, his nose, the strong line of his jaw. He sat relaxed in the seat . . . one arm draped casually on the armrest of the door, the other holding the steering wheel with a seemingly light, yet firm and steady touch. It was a touch that she knew very well. She watched as his fingers moved over the wheel and manipulated the car through a turn. Those fingers could manipulate her in that same way. They would move over her body and she, too, would turn in whatever direction he desired. There was a power in those fingers of his . . . a power that would overtake her every time they touched her . . . a power that would slip beneath the very surface of her skin and compel her complete surrender. It was something she could not resist, even if she had wanted to, and the truth was she never wanted to. The freedom that came from her surrender to his touch was something she had come to crave almost as much as the touch itself. The pleasure he was able to give her was more than she had ever imagined possible. Just thinking about it seemed to raise her body temperature. The growing heat between her legs spread out through her arms and legs and brought a blush to her cheeks. Without consciously intending to, she moved her thighs against one another in response to the heat and the slight, sweet, ache she had begun to feel in that intimate place that could never get enough of his touch. Hearing her movement, he turned to smile at her. It was smile that said he knew what she was thinking and a small shiver passed through her as she realized his ability to read even her thoughts.

She tried valiantly to regain her composure, returned his smile and then turned to once again look at the brightly decorated houses along the snow lined street. It was unsettling sometimes the effect he had on her. All he had to do was smile that way, with those eyes that knew her thoughts, and she was off balance and weak in the knees and . . . ready for anything.

She took a deep breath and thought about where they were going. It was a Christmas party, he had told her, just a few business associates of his; they would stop by for a while, visit a bit, then graciously say goodnight and go for a late dinner at a nice restaurant. After that they would return home and . . . she smiled slightly as her mind drifted towards memories and fantasies once again.

She was brought back to the present by the stopping of the car and she realized that they had reached their destination. He shut off the engine, turned and smiled at her, then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it softly. "I know you don’t care much for these kinds of things, but perhaps tonight you'll enjoy yourself," he said as he held her hand and smiled again. The combination of the soft kiss and the implied promise in his words left her feeling slightly light headed and a nervous knot of excitement began to form in her stomach.

He got out of the car and opened her door for her. The rush of cold air from the outside slid under the hem of her short skirt and collided with the warm moistness between her legs. She trembled against him as he helped her from the car. His hands, strong and sure as always, steadied her and guided her to the front door of the house. They were met by very attractive woman and shown into a large living room where a small group of people were gathered around with drinks in their hands, casually visiting. Introductions were made, refreshments were offered, and the ritual of the Christmas party began.

She dutifully made idle conversation with various people as she watched him move through the room speaking to each person, smiling, laughing, making the rounds. At times, she would notice how a woman would touch him as they spoke . . . just a hand on the arm . . . and the easy way in which he would return the touch . . . seemingly casual and innocent. She could not help but wonder if those women felt the same power that she did when he touched her, then she would see the blush in their cheeks and she would know. As she surveyed the room, she began to notice that there was, in fact, a lot of touching going on. All of it was seemingly very innocent on the surface but a palpable tension was in the air . . . a kind of energy that was just barely contained. The knot of excitement in her stomach tightened as she remembered his words in the car and she contemplated what the evening might bring.

Fantasies began to creep into the edges of her consciousness as she listened to the conversations around her . . . images of things she had never actually seen before . . . bodies, naked and aroused, moving against one another. Would she see something like that tonight, she wondered. Would this Christmas party suddenly turn into an orgy of writhing flesh? The thought excited her tremendously . . . she had always had a voyeuristic tendency. The room seemed very warm and she felt a flush in her cheeks again. She turned and saw him watching her . . . smiling . . . Damn, she thought, how does he always know? He moved through the crowd and made his way to her side. His arm slid around her and his hand rested on her hip. He leaned close and kissed her on the cheek. Her skin grew even warmer under his lips. "Come with me," he whispered in her ear, "I want to show you something." Nodding her reply, she let him guide her through the room, his hand lightly touching her on the small of her back.

They went into the kitchen and then to a stairway that obviously led to a basement. She wondered, briefly, why they were going there, but did not question him and followed as he took her hand and led her down the stairs. It was dark and she stayed close to him, holding his arm for balance. At the bottom of the stairs, he paused, flipped a switch and the room was bathed in a soft light. Slowly her eyes adjusted and then widened as they took in the room and its furnishings. On one wall was a large wooden X with leather padding on it. Leather cuffs hung from short metal chains at the ends of the upper arms of the X; at the bottom of the X was another set of cuffs also attached to the wood with chains. In the center of the room was a table, with stirrups, like in a doctor's office, only padded, with restraints for the ankles. From the ceiling in one corner, hung a harness of some type, also made of leather. On one small table was an assortment of floggers, paddles, and whips. On another table was a collection of vibrators, dildoes, and various creams.

She stared wordlessly around the room, aware that her breathing had quickened and her blood seemed to be pumping faster carrying the heat throughout her body. Dark fantasies filled her mind and shivered. She watched as he moved to the table. He picked up a silk scarf, ran it slowly between his fingers, smiled and looked at her. What, she wondered, did he have in mind? There was a whole house full of people upstairs. The thought touched the knot of excitement inside her. He moved behind her and carefully placed the scarf over her eyes. Darkness closed in around her once again as she felt him tie it behind her head. She could feel a heat coming from his body now as he leaned close and kissed her neck. A sigh escaped her lips. Then the heat moved away and she waited anxiously for what would come next. His fingers closed over hers and she felt herself being led across the room. Where was he taking her? To the cross? To the table? To the leather harness hanging from the ceiling? A part of her brain reminded her of the people upstairs; she shouldn't be doing this here. But her body was in control now; or rather he was in control of her body. She did not resist when he began undressing her and as her flesh was slowly exposed, she became warmer still and her body responded with stiffening nipples and a growing wetness between her legs.

He helped her to lie down on the table. She felt the cool leather against her bare back and his hands on her legs as he placed them in the stirrups. She trembled when he secured her ankles and did not protest when he tied her wrists together with another silk scarf. He then raised her arms above her head and attached her bound wrists to something there in such a way that she lay with her breasts thrust up and out. She was helpless to get away now. The thought made her so wet she was convinced she could feel it leaking out of her now. Unable to see him, she waited and wondered. The uncertainty, the slight edge of fear, only heightened the arousal she felt.

Suddenly, she felt his lips close over hers in a slow, lingering, passionate kiss. She moaned in hunger for more. He nibbled at her lips, touched them with the tip of his tongue, sucked on hers as it found its way into his mouth. She desperately wanted his hands on her . . . touching her everywhere . . . but the only contact between them was at their mouths. She was so lost in the kiss that the first sensation of touch on her legs caused her to gasp. For a moment, she was confused. The touch had been at her ankles. Could he reach that far from where he was kissing her? Before she could fully process the thought, she felt another touch . . . and then another . . . Fingers . . . hands . . . were on her feet, her ankles, her thighs, her breasts . . . In a moment of near panic, she wondered if her fantasies had taken over her mind completely. Then she heard his voice in her ear, "Relax and enjoy." The words were calm and reassuring, but also a command, she realized, and as she surrendered to it she felt the freedom it brought.

The hands moved over her body, some strong and hard, others soft and gentle. She heard the low murmur of voices, both male and female. The contrast of the sounds and touches mixed in her ears and on her skin and she began to softly moan. Her flesh was alive with sensations everywhere . . . on the bottoms of her feet . . . along the insides of her thighs . . .at the sides of her breasts . . . at the tips of her nipples . . . Fingers stroked and caressed, pulled and teased . . . lips left wet trails between her breasts and down across her stomach . . . She gasped as a mouth closed over her toes and began to suck on them. She shivered as soft, feminine lips brushed against hers. She returned each kiss more hungrily than the last, whether it was from a man or a woman. Her legs began to shake as two tongues made their way up her thighs and joined each other over the aching bud of her clit. They danced over it, swiping at each other and teasing her in the process. She felt the orgasm start deep inside her and burst forth with a scream that was swallowed by the mouth that was over hers. Her nipples, her toes, her pussy were all being sucked at the same time. Fingers pulled the cheeks of her ass apart and probed gently at her opening there. She was awash in the sensations and the orgasms that seemed to come one on top of the other . . . flowing into one another. She heard a buzzing beside her ear and then felt it between her legs as someone began to slowly push a vibrator inside of her. It caressed the walls of her pussy, making it ache, and when a tongue slid over her clit, she came again, screaming and thrashing against the restraints. She was lost now in the pleasure . . . it was everywhere . . . filling her . . . washing over her . . . carrying her away . . . She was its prisoner and wanted never to escape.

Gradually, though, the sensations did begin to slow. Mouths and hands were withdrawn one by one until she lay trembling, gasping for breath, aching from the force of the pleasure and from its withdrawal. The voices and other sounds faded away and she waited in the dark and the quiet. It was then that she felt his body move over hers. How she knew it was his, she did not know, but it was, of that she was certain. His hips brushed her thighs as he lowered himself onto her and slid effortlessly into her body. His cock, hard and swollen, filled her so completely that she almost cried with the overwhelming pleasure. She had not thought that it could be any more intense as when all those hands and mouths were on her, but as he moved in her and she rushed toward orgasm, she knew that nothing would ever satisfy the way he did. The sound of his orgasm echoed in her ears even as her screams filled the room once again.

Afterwards, he removed the restraints from her ankles and untied her wrists, gently caressing them as he did so. He helped her to dress and let her lean on him as they climbed the stairs arm in arm. As they passed back through the house, she noticed that none of the other guests were visible, the place seemed to be abandoned. But as she looked back at the house from the car, she was certain she could hear the sounds of sighs and moans and cries of pleasure and whether they were real or just memories, they made her smile just the same. She turned to face him as he took her hand and kissed it softly once again. "I am very glad you enjoyed the Christmas party. Perhaps you'll want to come again next year?" She blushed slightly, smiled, and whispered, "Yes, next year . . . "

Copyright by The Gentle Man, 2002

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