tagIncest/TabooWhat's In the Big Box?

What's In the Big Box?


"What's in the big box?" Luci asked.

We had been married for nineteen years, but she was still capable of childlike joy at Christmas. That was one of the reasons I still loved her deeply although the heat had long since faded from our sex lives. In fact, lately, we barely had a sex life. Well, I did, but mostly with my right hand. She denied any interest in masturbation, or toys, having been raised in a conservative Christian family. Sure, once in a while, when drunk, she might make cucumber jokes, but the few times she walked in on me jerking off, it had not been Penthouse Letters passion which followed. She just would stammer, blush, shut the door, and go off sobbing.

"It's a surprise," I replied as she rattled the present. The fireplace was crackling.

"I hope it's not breakable," she said, a bit late. "It sure is wrapped nicely."

Though it was only Christmas Eve, our sons were both away this year, for the first time ever at once. Jared, at 16, had begged to go to Florida with his grandparents. He imagined that he would enjoy the miles of blonde bikinis on the beaches. In reality, it would probably be acres of retirees in shopping malls.

Ward, 18, had gone skiing with his girlfriend's family. This had upset Luci, but not nearly as much as the day a few months before when she walked into his bedroom and discovered that he was sexually active. No awkward moment finding her baby choking his chicken there. This time, it was the real deal.

Luci had refused to describe it to me the evening she caught them, but now, she sighed about how she missed him, and somehow, this caused her to blurt out "Wade's whole ass is tanned. Did you know that? Anyway, when I walked in on them, Deanna's legs were wrapped around his waist. That girl has tremendous calves. Cheerleaders these days have to be real athletes I guess."

She was digressing, having trouble processing the images burnt onto her retinas, I assumed.

"She's in great shape," I agreed. My son's girlfriend was indeed a hottie. Many of my recent solo sessions had been fuelled by recollections of peeping at her toned flesh, searching for the elusive tan lines.

"They were so busy ......" she paused, seemingly unsure how to describe what she saw.

"Fucking? Is that the word?"

Luci blushed crimson. Her mother never used those words, and only during deepest passion did Luci let loose.

"Yes...they were so busy fucking that they didn't even notice me enter the room."

"What were they doing?" I asked. I meant to say what did Luci do, but the other words just tumbled out of my mouth. As soon as I said it, I waited for the explosion, the indignation. Instead, Luci replied just as if we were discussing five year olds playing in the park.

"Like I said, she was underneath him. He was half off the bed, his feet still on the floor, so he was pistoning up into her." The words spilled out, Luci's eyes glassy, staring off into space over my shoulder. In the moment as she caught her breath, I listened to carollers down the block. Would they arrive at our door soon? Would they interrupt this conversation? My cock was already swelling excitedly, and that little brain in my pants wanted more. Now was not a good time for company.

Luci continued. "Deanna had her hands on his back, and then she ran them up onto his neck, pulling his head down to her to kiss. She arched her back up off the bed. She sure is agile."

"Must be all the gym classes for cheerleading," I replied.

I glanced at the crackling flames and sipped my cider, thinking about my son's girlfriend, wondering whether they were fucking right now. She was a better vision than sugar plums dancing in my head. "I wish she was dancing in my bed," I muttered.

"What?" Luci barked.

"I'm surprised they didn't break his bed," I said, covering up my slip of the tongue, but driving the conversation in the direction of supplying more fuel for my burgeoning Yule Log.

I expected this Christmas Eve to be like most others, with me trying to find an excuse to send Luci to bed first so that I would have the privacy to jerk off. Images of Deanna fucking would beat internet porn any day. I was already imagining that it was me, not Wade, who was drilling her. 'How would Luci have liked that?' I wondered to myself.

"I think most of his weight was still on the floor, though he was thrusting pretty hard, lifting right up onto his tiptoes," she replied, jolting me back to the present.

"Then this probably wasn't their first time, if he could plough her field that hard without hurting her. She must already have been stretched out." I responded without editing.

As soon as I said the words, I wanted to grab them out of the air before they reached Luci's ears. She would be stunned. I braced for her fury. Instead, she just blushed a deeper red than the heat required. This time, it was her turn to stare off and mutter as if I was not in the room, "Well, he did have a really big cock. He does take after his father."

I was not sure which shocked me more -- hearing my uptight wife remark on the size of our son's tool, or that she commented on mine. She never would talk dirty during sex play unless much drunker than she was this Christmas Eve. My cock, already chubby and restless from this chat, now stiffened fully. Maybe opening presents the night before Santa was supposed to come was a way to get the little fellow his own gift. Perhaps even one of Luci's infrequent blowjobs, though if it was the usual half hearted effort -- roughly three head bobs with her jaw slack swallowing the head and half the shaft as she lazily pumped the base with her fist - frankly, I would get better results taking matters into my own hands.

"What are you grinning about, like a cat in a bird sanctuary?" Luci asked.

I realized that my mind had drifted not only from the reality of crouching between the Christmas tree and fireplace with my wife, but also from the real events she had witnessed in our son's bedroom. It was my turn to blush, because I had wandered off in my mind picturing Deanna's long thin fingers wrapped around my fat tool, guiding the bulging head to her open mouth, her tongue flopped ready to lick the underside. Luci had snapped me out of the trance just as I had imagined that Deana was teasing the flap that links the head to the shaft.

"I'm still wondering what you did," I covered up. "So far, it sounds like you spent a long time watching."

Luci blushed. "Well, I must admit after a while, I felt flushed, and my hands got kind of busy. I was stunned by how much Wade's cock resembled yours."

She paused, her teeth chewing her lower lip as she fiddled with the ribbon on the box before continuing. "That made it easy for me to imagine that it was me that Wade was fucking."

With that admission, my wife lowered her head, staring at the carpet. "I guess you think that I'm some sort of sick pervert now. Merry Christmas, huh?"

More silence. I wished that I knew what to say to fill it, because next she added, "You can have a divorce if you want."

My cock straining against my fabric would be the only answer she would need, if only she looked there. The little brains in my balls were yelping for more description of how hot and sweaty Deanna must have looked. They wanted to know whether she had put her feet on Wade's shoulders, then linked her ankles, drawing him harder and faster into her cunt. Speaking of which, was she still tight, or despite their youth, had Wade already fucked her so much with his fat fire hose cock -- the one that Luci compared too mine - so that she was stretched out and sloppy? Which led to wondering whether they were monogamous or whether she fuck around, maybe even liked to pull a train. Would I get to go first or settle for sloppy seconds?

I shook my head, trying to get those images out of my brain, without success.

Luci interpreted my movement as a response to her offer. "Oh, darling, thank you for understanding. If you forgive my sinful thoughts, I'll do everything I can to be a good girl and make it up to you."

"You can start by being a naughty girl," I replied without even thinking.

"Does Santa want Luci to be a naughty elf?" she cooed, getting right back into the spirit. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight.

"Look in the big box."

Luci chuckled, a deep rumbling in her throat. I recalled that note. It was the sound she used to make when we were first married, and about to unleash a huge climax. It had been years since I had heard it, and it was amazing that she was uttering it without having sex.

What she said next was even more shocking. Tugging on the ribbon, she muttered, as if to herself, "It's not quite big enough to have Wade hiding inside."

I sniffed at the eggnog, though I suppose most mind altering drugs are odourless, the better to sneak up on people. Which of us was hallucinating, I wondering -- Luci, dreaming of fucking her son, even as she opened my gift, or me, perhaps just imagining that she had said anything at all?

"That would make Luci a very naughty elf indeed," I chanced, deciding not to recognize that she had merely been talking to herself. "One with visions of more than just sugar plums dancing in her head."

"Well, Wade could fill my big box, but it would be his head, not mine, and it would be inside my box, sugar plum," she replied, talking loudly this time. Her laughter was heartier as well, pushing up from her belly to shake the pine boughs over the mantle.

"Could as in would be capable of, or could as in you would allow him to?"

"Which would a naughty elf pick?"

I noticed that her nipples were even stiffer. I briefly considered steering the conversation back to Deanna, but decided to keep the focus on Luci, and Wade.

"Ho, Ho, Ho, both, I think," I said, in best Santa form to cover my shock that Luci had gone beyond admitting that her handsome son's fit body turned her on, to actually joking about fucking him. The first was taboo in a mild way, the second was beyond comprehension.

"I think I need more egg nog before I open the box," Luci said. She released the ribbon and stood, displaying the easy grace of her formal dance training, pivoting and walking across to the bar. I admired her fit shape, as taut as before she had the kids. She could still easily fit the elf costume she used to wear to office Christmas parties, before political correctness put an end to any measure of naughty party fun.

That had been how we had met. I was the up and coming young marketing whiz. She was a college intern. Recruited to play a role in the festivities, she had been fed lots of spicy spiked egg nog by the regular staff, especially the women who knew that the Big Boss would maul her thoroughly when she sat on his lap as he played Santa. Each year, the routine featured the elf going first, telling Santa want she wanted most, which always lead to off colour humour from Santa. Each year it seemed Santa was also more drunk by that point, and the pawing became more aggressive and open.

The year Luci played the elf ended up being the final instalment of that game, as the political correctness movement found the wind beneath their sails. Luci screaming, jumping up off of Santa's knee and running to the supply closet, her tights ripped where Santa's thumb had pierced the material to goose her, and the blouse falling off of her left shoulder.

To this day, I don't know why I launched off my perch on the edge of a sales desk to follow her. Logically, though she had not been there long enough to make real friends, it should have been one of the women. My reaction was instinctive, and I guess that once I moved, no one else felt obligated to comfort this strange, quiet, eerily beautiful intern.

The door to the supply closet had crashed against the jamb loudly, but Luci had tried so hard to slam it that the spring failed, leaving the door to bounce open, rather than close. As I entered, there was just a hint of light in the cramped space where it seeped through the open door. Luci stood sobbing in a corner by a copy machine, hugging her elbows, back to the door.

"Go away," she had sobbed upon hearing my foot falls as I had entered.

"He's an ignorant cad, not deserving of a lovely elf like you," I ventured.

"I wish he was freezing his ass of at the North Pole," Luci sniffled.

I knew just enough about women not to try to embrace her, but after a moment, I did gently rub her right shoulder. After a couple more great heaving sobs, Luci had turned without warning and buried her head against my chest. I took this as permission to hold her in my arms until the sobbing slowed, and then rubbed her back slowly, like calming a baby.

Soon not a creature was stirring, and all through the house, or at least the supply closet, it was silent. I slowed my massage and Luci stepped back from me. "Just let me get my face together..." she began to say, looking up so as not to have to look me in the eye.

"Who put mistletoe there?" she finished. The comment was so unexpected that I asked her to repeat it.

Sure enough, I followed her stare upwards and saw that directly above us, a sprig of plastic greenery was dangling from a ceiling strut.

"I bet its Bob and Arlene," I suggested, "those two are always sneaking in here to neck. Bob has Arlene convinced that nobody knows."

Bob worked in accounts payable, Arlene was in accounts receivable. They were both married, but not to each other.

This got a chuckle out of Luci, as she blew her nose on a piece of copy paper. "If they do it all year, I doubt that Bob would bother. He's a fat lazy slob. I'd guess the Big Boss, but he always sends for supplies. You never see him go in here."

"Your nose looks like Rudolph's" I observed.

Luci snuffled one last time and then shrugged her shoulders. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she then said.


"Well, I'm under the mistletoe," she said, rising up onto her tiptoes and closing her eyes.

I had never dreamed before that second that this tiny dynamo might be interested in me, but in the situation, failing to kiss her would have been rude. I expected a chaste peck on the lips, but Luci took charge. Her left hand cupped behind my neck to draw me down to her height, and then she meshed her lips to mine, her tongue darting into my mouth. The first time, it was a quick taste, so fast that I thought maybe I had imagined it, but after my teeth parted a bit more, Luci had stabbed her oral organ deep into my cheek. My cock did not need any more encouragement, as the little brain in my pants reacted to thoughts of how that clever tongue might entertain my manhood.

To avoid embarrassment, I had shifted my hips back, trying to keep my hardness from brushing against Luci's groin. She was having none of that though. Her right hand snaked around my waist and pulled me tight against her. She began rotating her hips, rubbing against me.

"I'm sorry..." I began as we broke the kiss to gasp for air.

"Don't be silly," she replied, "I'm all over being upset, and maybe it's just the egg nog, but I like feeling how excited I made you."

Shouted drunken singing seeping through the door reminded us that we were barely alone. This apparently gave Luci a sense of urgency, rather than the nervous doubt and fear of detection tempering my passion. She again pulled my face to hers, but she also slid her hand down my pants. As our tongues danced, Luci quickly fondled my ass, grinding her pelvis harder against my erection. Then, she shifted slightly so that, while still kissing, her hands fumbled with my belt and button.

Suddenly, I felt cool air bathing my groin as my zipper parted. The strength of my arousal pushed my rod into Luci's fist, my underwear falling out of the way.

Finally, she broke the kiss, and looked down at my cock. "It's a lot bigger than the other ones I've had," she said.

She was so young, so sweet looking, that her matter of fact attitude had shocked me. "Have you had a lot?" I managed to stammer out as my member throbbed in her grip.

"A few," she replied, then giggled. "Okay, maybe more than a few."

"Then shut up and drop to your knees," I ordered, which was pretty dumb, given how I had entered the supply room in the first place to console her after she had been groped. I was amazed when she obeyed.

"May I kiss it, sir?" she then had asked. She was looking straight up at me, our eyes locking together, her fist clenched at my root, the last few fingers warming my scrotum.

"Only if right afterwards, you stick your tongue into my slit. I can feel precum leaking out already."

Her tongue instinctively flicked out to wet her lips and her chin waggled as if nodding 'yes' to herself. Without another word, she bobbed her head down, opened her jaw wide and lowered her mouth over my weapon. Her teeth teased the sensitive skin that linked the underside of the tip to my shaft as her tongue twirled expertly around the rim. She nibbled at that tender area as well, just grazing the soft flesh above the hard rod.

From that point onward, only her tongue, flat on the underside of the shaft, touched my flesh until she reached the root. She released her grip as she finally tightened her lips around the base of my manhood, shifting her hand back, or down, I really don't know which, but cupping my balls in her hand. She paused like that briefly, rolling the nuts in their sac, swallowing her own saliva mixed with just a tiny taste of precum as her breath bathed me.

The sensation of my fluids leaking into her throat reminded me that she had not followed my instructions. I reached my hand over and tugged on her hair to get her attention as I said, "I thought I told you to stick your tongue in the slit."

Luci managed to nod awkwardly, understandable since my length was still filling not only her mouth, but her throat as well. She straightened her spine, spitting me out of her jaw, giving me a lovely show of her tits shaking within the silly elf costume. I still recall thinking that next time, I had to tit fuck her, which was pretty presumptuous in the circumstances. In the early years of our courtship and marriage, I had enjoyed those puppies wrapped around my shaft regularly, but in recent years, I had hardly been allowed to take them out to play.

That all lay in the future however, and at that fateful office Christmas party, Luci was enthused but anxious to fulfil both of us before we got discovered. Her tongue rolled as deep as possible into the pipe, drawing more precum into her mouth. As she did that, she worked her hand around the shaft like a fleshy tube, twisting and kneading me, while the fingers of the other hand began milking my balls.

"Watch out of you'll get an eyeful. What kind of gift would that be?" I joked.

"I'm not worried," she laughed, "I have better aim than that."

Despite my earlier assertiveness, Luci reminded me that she had control firmly in her hands. "I'm not about to reappear with great gobs of goo dribbling off of my chin."

Then, it was all quiet in the supply closet again as Luci took my head into her cheek, her lips firmly locked around the rim. She used her tongue to massage my meat and her teeth to tease the flesh. I felt my spine tingle, and then tense. Luci curled her baby finger up around behind where she had been stroking my balls with it, and without warning pierced my anal ring. Simultaneously, she released her restrictive grip on the base of my cock. At that time, no one had ever used that trick on me, but I had no time to register shock, since my load immediately burst out of my balls, exploding up my shaft.

Since my mushroom was still in her mouth, Luci was able to start swallowing my seed without wasting a drop. She gulped away with passion that I had never seen in the few women who to that time had granted me lacklustre blowjobs. Meanwhile, she withdrew the finger after it had done its work on my prostate, and resumed kneading my scrotum, milking me dry.

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