The Long Pull: Wankin' in a Winter Wonderland

---

"Complimentary eggnog?" They asked a young woman, hair done up in a bun, elbow-length gloves on her arms and a shoal over her shoulder. Perhaps she thought this was the way to the opera.

"Does it have alcohol?"

"There's no alcohol in me." Meg said glumly. "So I don't believe any will be exiting out of me."

"Then no."

She wandered toward the bar.

---

"Complimentary eggnog?" They asked a man in a tie and button-up shirt, but no suit coat. He looked like he worked in IT.

He stopped as he heard them say that. He gasped at the sight of them, flushing and adjusting his tie. Here we go, Cindy though. Got him on the hook.

"Oh." He said. "I've heard about this. I'm surprised they've got you set up like this. I thought this was a niche product."

"So was naan, until yuppies and hippies made them popular in America." Meg said. "You want one? Coming right up."

Meg gripped herself with the thumb and forefinger and rubbed the full length of her penis, pointing it towards an empty cappuccino cup.

The man seemed to panic the moment she started. He swung his head around. "Oh, on second thought... never mind."

"You sure?" Meg said, not stopping her jerking.

"I... can't let my coworkers see me drinking that. I shouldn't even be standing here watching you do that." He jogged away, towards the bar and the more socially acceptable drinks.

Meg's jerking slowed to a stop. She growled some curses under her breath.

---

"Complimentary eggnog?"

A handsome man with stylish stubble and a perfectly tailored gray suit leaned his elbow onto the table.

"What say we forget the eggnog..." He withdrew a billfold, setting a few bills down on the tablecloth. He pushed them between the pair with his index finger. "And we find some place to get acquainted?"

He lifted his finger from the bills. Cindy immediately picked them up and threw them at him. The man ducked from the projectiles like it was a boomerang.

"We are not prostitutes! Get out of here!" She shouted so loud, the band missed a few notes of their jazzy version of Up on the Rooftop.

Cindy shook herself and blew out a long sigh. "Treating us like prostitutes..."

"We are being paid to have orgasms." Meg noted. "We are pretty close to that."

"Yes, but OUR orgasms are paid for, not theirs."

There was silence, but for the near constant pounding of their heartbeats, both in their heads and in their penises.

"I'm not... really attracted to guys." Cindy swallowed. "But if he had just said, 'let's find some place to have fun...'"

She turned to face Meg, who met her gaze. Cindy smiled. "I might have taken him up on that."

"Yeah, me too. It's this damn implant."

"What a moron. Missed his chance."

---

"Complimentary eggnog?"

"Is it cold?"

"Under generous definitions of the term 'cold.' It's colder than coffee."

"Body temperature?"

"Yes."

"No thanks."

---

"Complimentary eggnog?"

"Is there booze in it?"

"No, there's not."

"Forget it."

---

"Eggnog?"

"I can't drink it. It's got milk in it."

"This eggnog doesn't. This is not an udder."

"I can't take the chance. I'll be farting all night."

"Well, we would not want you to ruin your chances of charming the trousers off your secretary, would we, Mr. Flatulent?"

"Meg! Be nice."

---

"Eggnog?"

"I'm allergic to eggs."

"I don't... know if this has eggs in it or not."

---

"Eggnog?"

"Is there gluten in it?"

"...is there even gluten IN regular eggnog? What is with you Americans and gluten?"

---

"Free beer and pot?"

THAT got this guy's attention. "Say what?"

"Eggnog?" Meg said, gesturing to her member, the tip accented with a bead of clear precum.

"That's not what you said before. You said 'free beer and pot.'"

"No, I didn't. I said... frie bier und... potenz." Meg insisted. "Which translates to..."

A very long pause ensued.

The man stood there, waiting for the translation. He put one hand on his hip. "What's it translate to, honey?"

"Give me a second, I speak English so long, it's hard sometime to remember the German."

He left.

"I don't think you're going to get anyone with a bait-and-switch." Cindy noted.

"I can't believe how much trouble we're having. At Oktoberfest, I'm slinging it around all day. I didn't even have an implant. Let me tell you, in Germany, they don't love anything more than a blonde woman with a huge cock. I was very popular that day."

"Next year, we'll have to do this there."

---

"Eggnog?"

"Is it alcoholic?"

"No."

"Then what's the point?"

"I don't know. What's the point of going to a work Christmas party if you need to get drunk to tolerate talking to your coworkers socially?"

"Because it's free alcohol."

Meg nodded sagely. "Touché."

---

"Eggnog?"

"Ew, who likes eggnog?"

"Evidently, nobody here!"

---

"Eggnog?"

"I really don't fancy drinking your ejaculate, even if it does taste like eggnog."

"Thank you very much for going right out and saying it. Most people think they're being nice by dancing around it."

---

"Eggnog?"

"Has it got alcohol in it?"

"You're going to get my foot in your ass if--"

---

On and on this went. Over the course of the first hour, they had only one regular customer, a woman who gotten four cups of eggnog. Evidently, it was only to mix into some harsh spirits she had hidden in her purse. She snuck the bottle out and mixed it with the eggnog while nobody was looking.

Why someone would sneak alcohol into an event with an open bar, they could not fathom. It was nice to be appreciated, but then again, perhaps this woman was a sincere alcoholic who wanted to drink in front of her coworkers without them noticing.

As troubled as Cindy was by this revelation... she doubted she could resist giving her a refill. What was hurting her... wasn't coming out of her.

There was a customer who didn't want a drink, but had no problem watching as they made up a cup. He'd asked Cindy to do the honors, but when watching Cindy whack off her huge cock, having been denied an orgasm for so long as this implant practically sizzled in her rear, intrusive and lustful thought bursting like popcorn in her mind...

Meg could not help but make up a second cup... even if they would go to waste.

The only other person who looked enthusiastic for their presence was a man about twenty with frosted tips, a bright orange muscle shirt, sunglasses and a seashell necklace. He didn't get a drink, but he was thrilled to see such a 'modern, trendy drink' available. He got a photo standing between the two futa, asking before he went behind the table for the photo. Both of them made the peace sign with their opposite hands.

Only after this man left the table did a young woman ask the pair if they knew who he was. They both shook their heads. Evidently, he was Frank E. Thanx, a social media star who loved crashing parties and causing mostly harmless mischief. The woman turned her phone out and showed them Thanx's Instasnap feed. The picture of the three of them had gained seventy-five thousand 'likes' in five minutes.

Standing essentially nude in front of one hundred disinterested strangers... Cindy had acclimated to this. They were in a darker part of the room off to the side, and most people paid no attention to them. She'd never been naked in front of more than one person at a time before tonight. Now, a nearly nude picture of her with an erection had circulated to at least seventy-five thousand pairs of eyes. And those were only the ones who 'liked' the image. The actual number of eyes that saw this picture must be an order of magnitude greater than that.

Cindy's hand went to her head as she tried to get her breath back. Maybe the picture would be taken down. Most social media networks don't let a picture with an erect penis stay up for long.

A conciliatory hand fell onto Cindy's shoulder. "Don't worry about this. You can have a million followers and nobody's ever heard of you." Meg comforted her. "It's not like we knew who he was."

This didn't seem to alleviate her stress any, so Meg continued. "Besides... say everyone in whole world sees this picture. What does that mean? All it means is that everyone knows that you're beautiful AND hung."

Cindy turned back, a nervous grin creeping in at the sides. "You think I'm..."

"Of course! You're over 30 centimeters, ja? Even I could not quite reach 30."

"That's not..." Cindy chuckled. "Never mind."

---

At the end of the second hour, a gentlemen appeared. He was dressed in a suit that looked like the same suit he wore every day. "Hello ladies!" He grinned in a way that immediately put them both ill at ease, that cloying fake smile used by marketers and serial killers. "How's the night going so far?"

"It's going OK." Cindy lied. "My feet are getting a bit tired."

"Well, I just heard from upstairs that we've got a problem here."

"Is it that people are drinking our jizz?" Meg asked plainly.

"No, no! We love having you here. But we just heard that this table is too close to that door." He pointed to the nearby entrance to the kitchen. "So... we're unfortunately going to have to move this somewhere else."

"OK..." Meg said, as two larger men picked up either side of the folding table, the cappuccino cups rattling as it moved. Cindy and Meg walked slowly behind it as they took the table away from the kitchen...

And out the door of the main room of the party and plopped it down near the entrance.

"There we go. That should comply wish OSHA standards."

"You know, if people didn't want to see us, we could've just put a curtain up." Cindy pouted.

"That's not it at all!" The man said with oily and unbelievable sincerity. "We just needed to follow the rules that's all. If you need anything, let us know."

The man and one of his larger underlings left. The second one, before he returned into the party, looked at the futa over his shoulder.

He winked.

Meg snorted and blew him a kiss.

Before disappearing back into the party, the man caught it in his large, hairy fist.

What he would do with it, now that he'd caught it, was anyone's guess.

---

The following few hours made Meg miss every silly person who asked if, somehow, bourbon would emerge from her urethra. Now there was nobody around. The music was muffled, but still permeated the walls enough to be recognizable. In the other direction, they heard people walk down the hall in the distance, probably heading to other Christmas parties. Cindy wondered if the other parties had their own bored futas with eggnog implants, unappreciated by the office workers. She could surely show them some appreciation...

Cindy was thirsty, in most varieties of the word. She wasn't craving a drink, having not made enough drinks of her own to deplete her fluids. But how she wished for a warm glass of eggnog. She stared at the pale erect cock of her co-barista with increasing interest and salivation, the way a January dieter looks at a sleeve of Fig Newtons.

She knew... if she took a drink, she would not stop at one.

Only a few hours to go.

---

During the third hour, only one customer actually acknowledge them without being spoken to first. He was a somewhat well-dressed man, though his tie had been loosened and hung from his collar like a broken branch barely hanging to the bough by a splinter. He looked slightly intoxicated, which probably meant he was completely wasted, but had enough practice at keeping it together at work parties. In one hand, he had something that looked like a cat toy, a stick with a few green leaves and red berries hanging off a short string.

"Hey, ladies." He slurred his words as he staggered between them.

"Hello, sir." Cindy smiled and held her hands together between her. "Would you like some fresh complimentary eggnog?"

"No, thanks. I'm not thirsty." He shook his head, extending his arm out and hanging the branch over the two futa.

Meg didn't look amused. "Ha, ha, sir. Sorry, but I am not kissing you."

"I know." He grinned, huffing out a few breaths of liquor-saturated breath.

Cindy and Meg looked to each other. Cindy bit her lip. Meg really was a beautiful woman, with strong features, blonde hair, plump red lips. In the time she'd known her, she'd never once thought that she'd ever get a chance to...

Meg touched the leaves with her finger. "It's real." She said softly. "Not plastic."

"Well, then..." The pounding in Cindy's head got louder as they got closer, their erections bumping together and sliding past each other like passengers in a crowded train. Their lips got closer, their breath got deeper and deeper, the rest of the world started to fade away.

And they kissed.

Meg grabbed the back of Cindy's head, turning and twisting their lips together. Cindy opened her mouth and pushed her tongue against Meg's, wrestling against each other, panting and moaning.

They barely managed to pull themselves apart, Cindy clutching her chest. Both were flushed, Meg wiping the drool from her lips with her thumb.

The man looked shocked. Most of the time he played this trick, the tongue did not get involved. He took his cat toy and broke the leaves and berries free from the stick.

"You can have this." He said, setting it between them before returning to the party.

"You sure you don't want some eggnog?" Cindy tried not to sound too desperate.

"I'm all set."

The man left.

Cindy whimpered. "That just made it so much worse."

Meg nodded.

---

"You know what?" Said a young woman in a red dress. "I WILL take one. But I need to know this isn't some kind of prank."

"How could this be a prank?" Cindy opened her hands. "You're going to see me make the whole thing."

"Well, if one of you was willing to taste-test it for me, then I think I would drink some."

Cindy picked up a cup by the handle, placed it on the table, pointed her tip towards it, and worked out a cupful of eggnog-flavored sperm. She was incredibly backed up; the haste in which this drink was created deserved to be described in a run-on sentence.

Before the stars had left her eyes and the tremors of ecstasy had left her eyes, Meg hooked her finger into the handle of the cup and brought it to her lips with a wink.

And took a sip.

Cindy's face lit up as red as the famous reindeer's nose. Meg really did it. She sipped up her come, and handed it to this stranger.

Once the woman left, Cindy mustered the courage to ask, "How is it?"

Meg took Cindy by the back of the head and brought their lips together. She pushed the ejaculate she had in her mouth into Cindy's, tongues twisting and lips smacking until all the come was gone.

They leaned forehead-to-forehead, Cindy huffing almost uncontrollably. "I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"We've only got forty minutes left." Meg assured her. "Then we'll be free and much richer."

Like waiting for Santa... it felt like that time would simply not come.

---

"What time is it?" The pair of futa asked a gentleman leaving the party, putting his coat over his arms as he walked.

He stopped and pulled his phone out of his pocket, rather than his gold watch that he probably only wore at formal events like this. "It's 10:23."

"Where the hell is he?!" Cindy shouted. "He's supposed to meet us back here at ten!"

"What are we supposed to do if he just doesn't show? He wanted us here fifteen minutes early, but he is THIS late." Meg cursed in German a few times. Her hands dropped to the harness holding the implant inside her. "I can't do this anymore. I'm taking this off."

"You can't!" Cindy put out her hand. "Gabriel said he has to be the one to remove it."

"Well, he is absent."

"And if you take it out, the contract is void and we don't get paid and all this was for nothing!"

Meg stopped.

"Well, we cannot say here all night."

"Where are we supposed to go like this?"

"I don't know."

---

What was Rob thinking, trying to find a toy store that was still open past ten on Christmas Eve? He would just have to leave an IOU for his present under the tree, or perhaps a post-dated check. But for now, he was just trying to get out of the city so he could actually start his Yuletide tradition of drinking.

Rob came to a halt at the stoplight. He didn't see any cars going the other direction, so he wondered why the red light had come on at all.

His answer came as two nearly naked women ran past his windshield, fast as they could while running in the classic 'gotta-pee' posture, arms tightly wound around their torsos. Both women had unclothed erections extending out from their bodies like the flagpole outside an office window wobbling in the crosswinds. They didn't seem concerned about covering those...

Rob blinked. This definitely wasn't what he expected to see racing around tonight. It would have baffled him less if they were pulling a bearded man in a sleigh. The stoplight had turned from red to green, as was appropriate for the season.

Rob just sat there a few seconds more, wondering what he had just seen.

Cindy ducked into a narrow doorway in front of a closed shoe store, just hoping to stay out of the wind for a few seconds. She huffed ineffectively on her fingers, trying to warm them up. And she thought it was cold when Meg came at her doorstep with the cocoa. How lovely that would be right now...

"What are we going to do?!" She shouted without meaning to. "How are we even going to get home?"

"There must be SOMEWHERE we can stay to warm up for a bit!" Meg shouted back. Even the itchiest, ugliest Christmas sweater would feel like a godsend. When bringing her hand down to rub her thighs, Meg's hand accidentally bumped the shaft of Cindy's cock. "Ooh, let me warm up my hands..." She placed both palms around Cindy's erection, the heat radiating off it like a hot cup of cocoa.

"Don't! Please..." Cindy's whole body wobbled from the contact. "I'm so close..."

"I won't stroke it, but I need to warm up."

"Warm up on your own cock!"

"It's not the same. Here, hold mine."

Cindy's hand went to the base of Meg's cock, holding it like a mug of cocoa, and just as warm and welcome, and surely filled with something hot and delicious to fill her belly...

She blushed at her own thoughts. What was in this implant?

"We have to find someplace that's open where we can get out of the cold."

"You, at least, still got that shoulder thing."

"It's not helping at all. This fabric is so thin."

"You were complaining about being warm wearing that at the party."

"I swear, I will never complain about being warm again."

---

Tim was sitting on his stool behind the register of the 24/7 convenience store. At midnight, he would do something that happened only once a year: he would lock the doors. They would reopen at 6AM on December 26th, concluding the thirty-hour period every year where this particular location wasn't open and he didn't have to deal with customer's weirdness.

The door jingled as it burst open, flurries jumping in before two futanari women in bikini tops and essentially nothing else, erections wagging around as they walked. He jumped from his stool.

"I'm sorry!" Cindy said as she walked in. "We just need to warm up."

"Are you two OK?" He said immediately.

"Yes and no." Meg said. "We have been caught in a very compromising situation."

They moved to the designated coffee area, hands outstretched in anticipation. Meg was within inches of the hot brew before she pulled her fingers back into clenched fists, like she'd just been told the dish full of peanut butter cups was for company. "Agh! We have no money!" She cursed in German, but somehow resisted the urge to stamp her feet.

Meg saw the clerk and shouted, "What? Are we now in violation of no-shirt-no-shoes policy?"

"No, you seem to have that covered." Tim looked away.