Of Mistletoe and Elves

I hear a shower start up and turn towards the noise. The showers in here are luxurious compared to the 3 foot by 3 foot fiberglass stalls for the men. These showers are tiled and somewhere around six or seven feet wide by the 3 feet deep, and have a bench within, probably to allow the women to shave their legs and other places. I quickly shed my shirt and socks, and trod towards the newest object of my desire.

I slip into the stall and wrap my hands around Kelley's waist. I hear her moan with approval and she asks, "Will you wash my back?"

I take the puff and drip some of the liquid soap into it from the wall mounted dispenser, another thing the men do not have, and start to lather up her back even though I am loathe to separate from her under the cascade of warm water. I finish up with the requested task and move onward and lower, massaging the her curvaceous behind as I clean up the mess I made. I toss the puff, and resume my cleaning, using my hands on her skin, much more enjoyable for both of us, and I can get into the tight spots, especially the long crease of her glutious maximus. She tenses when I brush my fingertips across her backdoor, leading me to believe she is sore from my earlier intrusion. I let it be in favor of wrapping my arms around her waist as I start to soap up her front side.

She presses into me when my hands cup her breasts, pinching the still protruding nubs, and moans her approval. I start to nibble on her neck and ear, increasing her vocalizations as she warms to my touch. Turning her head enough so I can capture her mouth, our tongues duel and chase each other's around as I kiss her deeply.

My hands slip south again, this time to her velvet center. She shivers when my fingers brush over her clit as I trace her core, her moans escalating. I thrust two fingers within and start pumping until her body convulses in the throes of passion. I feel her flood around my digits as she twists out of my grasp to kneel in front of me.

"I can't believe you shoved this monster up my butt," she states as she wraps her fingers around the girth of my manhood, fingers not quite reaching. Her eyes meet mine when she looks up while licking along the bottom of my reseructed cock, standing tall before her. She takes me in her mouth, barely able to handle the head, not going any further. She sucks while stroking my length with both hands. Pausing for a moment, she adds, "You are a lot bigger than my ex-boyfriend."

Resuming her blowjob, she has the cum boiling in my balls quicker than I want. I pull her up before I blow and kiss her again. I use the scant moments to relax before I lift her further, up high enough she can wrap her legs around my waist. I press her against the shower wall as she lowers onto my shaft with a deep groan of discomfort and pleasure mixed together, unable to completely bury my nine inches in her center of being before bottoming out.

It takes a moment, but when she opens her eyes and starts staring into mine, I begin thrusting into her, deeper each time. She seems to be struggling with keeping hers open as the moans escalate to a fevered pitch, coinciding with the tempo of the completion of my total possession of her.

She breaks eye contact when she throws her head back and wails out in the agony of too much ecstasy. Her orgasm is intense, the strongest one yet this eve. I pause, allowing her to come to her senses and she kisses me ferociously when she starts her descent from paradise.

Without a word otherwise, I turn off the water and carry her to one of the benches. She is like a rag doll as I lay her upon one and straddling the it, start in on her again. I pump into her mercilessly as she starts to vocalize her wants and desires at the top of her lungs. "Harder. Faster," echo in the room, accompanied by, "I'm gonna cum," and the moans of pleasure associated with her climatic episodes.

I pound her into the highly polished wood, spilling her essence on the bench, for a good twenty minutes before I feel the urge to join her in the orgasmic pleasure. I attempt to hold off until she peaks again, but she is too tight to last that long. I pour forth deep inside her, spurting multiple ropes of cum, triggering her own release. Her body convulses under the onslaught of sensations.

I resist the urge to lay upon her. Instead, I sit astride the bench, looking down at this girl in her post coital beauty, still intimately connected. Water is dripping from her hair and her chest is heaving, wanting more oxygen after the strenuous exercise we have completed. I have run marathons and not been as out of breath as I am right now.

A smile slowly creeps over her face as she lifts her head and upper torso up onto an elbow. "I knew we would be good together," she purrs. I smile back at her. "I want to do it again," she continues. "But I have to catch a plane home for the holidays in a couple of hours." She takes a deep breath. "I don't know if I will be able to walk to the gate, or sit for the flight."

"I can take you to the airport, if you wish," I reply. I slip from her as I deflate, flooding the bench between us and help her sit. She squirms about uncomfortably and I start to feel sorry for her, having to sit in a cramped airplane seat for the flight, but she smiles at me as she retrieves a scant piece of lace from a locker. She pulls the g-string up tight, forcing it between her swollen lips, moaning as the lingerie rubs against her tender clit.

I stand and pull her to me, kissing her deeply. "I hope we can do this again," she purrs into my neck. She looks up and I can see her bite her lower lip as she awaits my response.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," I say. "But we cannot do it here at the office. We have to be careful that no one else knows." I smile at her and she buries her head in my neck again. The feel of her lithe, nearly naked body pressing against mine has me wanting her all the more.

She holds me tight too for a moment, and then releases me. Taking my hand, we walk slowly through the empty halls to my office. I watch as she dons the tight clothing of her holiday outfit, while I retrieve my slacks and a clean shirt from a desk drawer. I keep a few there because the Las Vegas heat has me sweating through shirts when I am out on projects. I help her into her overcoat and I slip mine on too.

We come together for one final kiss for the year and it is long, deep and passionate, neither wanting to break it knowing we will not see each other for more than a week. I walk her outside into the light drizzle which seems to be wanting to change over into snow before this night is through, and watch her drive off, anticipating her path home to her apartment and then to the airport for her long flight to Canada for the holidays.

I climb into my truck, wanting to follow her, but turn towards my house, not knowing what the future will hold for us.