Miracle on Slutty 4th Street Ch. 03

When the fucking was done, with Bruce laid out on his bed, almost passed out, his hard cock finally, blessedly soft, Lacey was the one still standing. She was in the bathroom, looking into the mirror. Looking at herself. Her naked body, wearing the marks of sexual battle.

Her hair was a mess, all over the place. Her makeup was smeared all over her sweaty face. Her red plump lips were swollen, and there were still bands of cum clinging to her gorgeous features. Some just under her eyes. Some near her lips. And there was still a big stream of it across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes went wide as she looked down at chest.

Her massive, double-F cup boobs were wearing the effects of what she'd just went through even more than her face. Her pink nipples, looking slightly swollen and worn. The snowy, smooth skin with marks of pink all over, literally showing handprints in some spots from what the older man had done with them. And, thanks to his final act, her massive jugs were literally COVERED with cum, thick bands of it crisscrossing the succulent flesh. Some drops of the stuff were dripping down onto the sink as she bent over it, and there was a thick string of it hanging from one of her nipples. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she looked like a well-used slut of the highest order.

She couldn't suppress a grin at the sight of herself looking like this.

After cleaning herself up a bit, she stepped out of the bathroom, only for Bruce to be there, approaching. She stepped aside to let him pass, but not before he slapped her bare ass firmly, making her jump where she was standing. She couldn't hide her smile as he stepped into the bathroom, not paying her any mind as he invaded her person again.

The sun was a little dimmer in the sky by the time life emerged from within the older man's home.

On shaky feet, Lacey exited, wearing the same thing she'd been wearing hours prior, stepped out of the house into the chilly afternoon air. From afar, no one would know that those clothes had spent most of the time in Bruce's house on the floor. And no one would be able to tell that she wasn't wearing the same underwear she had been wearing coming in, opting for the red lacy number Bruce had given her, a mark of what he'd made her into.

If anyone looked closely, they would see the telltale signs of what she'd been through. She was walking gingerly, evidence that her pussy and ass had been thoroughly used. There were flecks of cum at the corner of her mouth, and if you could see through what she was wearing, you would see additional streaks of cum across her breasts, and cum leaking from both her pussy and ass.

But no one was looking that closely.

Padding through the snow, along the un-shoveled sidewalks, the chilly air was sobering her up as she came down from the high she'd felt with Bruce. The fun was slowly fading, and the reality of the situation was beginning to take hold. She was still processing what had just happened as she walked, not entirely sure how she felt now that it was over. That grin that she just had on her face was slowly fading as she thought things over. But honestly, she was too exhausted to think too deeply into things, and by the time she got home, she settled in for a nice long nap.

Derrick was surprised to see her napping when he got home from work. She was usually so keyed up for Christmas. He didn't know what was up, if she maybe wasn't feeling well, or if her meeting with that neighbor guy, Bruce, hadn't gone well. So he let her rest.

When she finally woke up, hours later, she walked out groggily into the living room, greeting her husband who was preparing dinner in the kitchen.

"Hey!" he called to her.

"Hey hon!" she replied with that bright, effervescent smile of hers.

"You doing okay?" he asked. "Don't usually see you napping, especially at a time like this."

At this, all the memories of what she'd spent her day doing filled her mind. Awful things. Filthy things. Nasty things. Things she couldn't speak of, especially to her husband. As this all came flooding back, she turned away from her spouse, looking out the front window. It was early evening, and the snow was really coming down, the beginnings of a white Christmas starting in earnest.

"I'm fine," the young wife said vaguely, looking out the window, trying to figure out her true feelings about what happened.

"How'd your talk go with old Bruce?" Derrick asked. Hearing his name made her nipples tighten and her breath catch, but she kept her eyes looking out the window, down the street. Then... something caught her eyes. Her eyes had landed at Bruce's house, where she'd spent so much time today, and she saw something that made her eyes go wide.

Christmas lights.

It wasn't much, a small strand of lights hanging along the edge of the roof. Looking closer, there was another strand of lights wrapped around the post light, with a bow on top. On the door was a wreath. Bruce had lived up to his end of the bargain, and much like his seduction of Lacey, he had worked fast, getting the job done before she knew it.

Lacey was shocked. Her efforts had not been in vain. Sure, her methods to getting him on her side had been... unorthodox, but it had worked. She had shown that evil old Grinch a bit of Christmas, uh, spirit, and he had jumped on board. It might be for less than ideal reasons, but nonetheless he was onboard, and for someone as devoted to Christmas as she was, she knew that there was no going back.

Bruce was now on the side of Christmas, for good.

"So..." Derrick asked, interrupting her thoughts. "How'd it go?"

Lacey turned to face her husband, unable to hide her grin.

"Great!" she said, smiling brightly. "It went great."

"Really?" he said, joining her and looking out the window, confirming her assertion by seeing his decorations. "How'd you pull that off?" Her mind flashed to Bruce's standing in front of her as Lacey jacked him off onto her face. She moved past that quickly.

"I have my ways," she said, and her husband simply shook his head and smiled.

"I can't believe it..." Derrick said. "That guy always came across like a major asshole."

"Oh... he's not so bad," Lacey said, defending the evil old man. "I can handle him."

"You are unbelievable," he said, in awe of his wife. "You said you'd do it, and you did."

"And I won't let up," Lacey affirmed. "If I stay on him long enough, next year, he'll have the most decorations on the block. I'm sure of it."

Derrick didn't suspect a thing, so impressed he was by his wife's determination and Christmas spirit. It was truly something for a man with a wife like his to have so little paranoia about her fidelity. To not be able to defend his wife when the biggest attack on their marriage had just occurred... her earlier words said in the heat of passion to Bruce about Derrick began to ring truer to her.

When it came down to it, Derrick was kind of a pussy.

So many men wanted to do bad things to a woman so well-built and sexy, and surely, someone would get the job done. But Bruce had, and thanks to Derrick's naiveté, he would be availing himself in the younger man's wife for the foreseeable future without even the slightest bit of suspicion.

Truly, it was a Christmas miracle.

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