Sitting in her comfy chair, sipping sweet sherry, it finally started to feel like Christmas.
She’d had decorations up for about ten days, not many just enough, and of course a tree. To her the tree was the very heart of Christmas. She wasn’t religious at all. In fact she’d read somewhere about the tree and the gifts being part of a pagan festival or ritual or both.
A smirk spread across her face as she imagined herself as a witch.
It aroused her also, that kind of thing always did. There was an allure to the mystery and the general taboo of it.
Sipping on her sherry, she thought about how she would never usually drink this, feeling the sweet, sticky warmth glide down her throat. The sensation alone reminded her of why sherry was for Christmas. A family tradition of sorts.
But this year she sat here alone but had bought a bottle to honour the token.
As the liquid warmed her throat and the alcohol warmed her blood. Another heat grew between her legs.
She had no idea why she was so aroused. It was late on Christmas Eve and if anything she’d expected to feel a little emotional.
But instead, lust filled her mind and her flesh.
She took another sip, enjoying and savouring the novelty of the almost sickly sweetness.
Something caught her attention in her peripheral. A figure, standing there.
In and out of focus.
She startled in her seat, almost spilling the drink.
As she looked directly in its location there was, of course, nothing.
She sighed as she formed a realisation that her loneliness, the alcohol and the late hour and maybe even the glimmer of Christmas lights had tricked her.
Having decided not to put music, a show or film on. It was silent.
That’s what she had wanted. Just the atmosphere of her own company on a lonely Christmas Eve, in her own apartment.
Again the figure appeared. In and out. Fleeting from existence as soon as it appeared. She became a little anxious and turned slightly in her chair to not see that part of the room.
I mean, ignoring it would make it go away, right?
As she turned she was instantly distracted by the heat growing between her legs. In moving, her pyjamas had brushed against her pussy and woken it a little more.
She took one hand and lightly rubbed her sweet spot through the fabric. Not willing to commit to masturbating just yet.
It did feel good though, it felt so good and she knew that an orgasm would lighten her mood and help her relax.
She took her hand and slid it down the front of her pyjama bottoms. Finding first the firm bristles of her two day old shave and then the hot softness that was already a little wetter than she had anticipated.
She began to rub along the length slowly, and then coming back up and circling around and over her sensitive little sweet spot.
Mmmm it felt so good.
She decided to stop a moment and refill her glass for a fourth time.
What better way to spend the night, alone, with a glass of sweet liquor in one hand while her other hand worked her gently or roughly, she hadn’t decided yet, to climax.
She stopped and pulled her hand out to reach for the bottle that she’d placed on the table beside her.
The stroking and massaging between her legs continued.
With utter confusion she looked down to make sure that she’d actually pulled her hand out.
Of course she had and not only that, the rubbing was definitely continuing and her pyjama bottoms were still lifted as though a hand were still down there.
Both fear and panic came immediately.
But then a voice. A disembodied voice that was smooth, velvet smooth and calming, strong and compassionately powerful.
It simply said “Calm, I have come to give and to receive”
The voice had no point of origin, it didn’t seem to come from anywhere. It seemed to fill her head and the room at the same time.
But it did gently and convincingly command her and she could do nothing but relax and surrender.
The massaging between her legs felt so good, it continued with increased pressure and then she felt an invisible finger being gently pushed inside her, exploring her.
Her mind tried to force thoughts of fear and craziness into her consciousness but the presence and the stimulation had them firmly abated.
She sank down into the chair, it’s soft welcoming seat and cushions cradling her as this apparition stimulated her.
A second finger, joined the first inside her. Both now exploring and discovering. What she imagined to be a thumb flicked over her magic button.
Fuck this felt so damn good!
But she wanted more.
No longer had she thought that. Or had she demanded it?
Her pyjama top was ripped open. The sound of buttons scattering, bouncing and spinning across the wooden floor.
She gasped as her breasts were exposed but she was also excited and aroused. Her hand went limp and the sherry glass fell to the floor, shattering in a brief moment of chaos.
Her chest heaved as she was breathless with fear but more so with wanton desire.
She looked at them, enjoying their shape and form. Their pastel white skin with a rose pink hue. The darker pink of her now erect nipples. Their ample shape and form.
They aroused her.
Wait, was she looking through this….things eyes?
As she grappled with that thought, her legs were lifted and her pyjama bottoms were swiftly pulled off of her.
She was virtually naked, exposed, open.
This was exhilarating.
She felt a hand on the back of her neck, supporting her head, caressing it.
She felt another hand exploring her body, gently stroking and feeling her breasts, then her stomach. Next were her thighs and this made her realise that the spectral hand was no longer stimulating her.
What felt like strong thighs slid between her own partly open legs and spread them a little more. She could feel a presence and a weight on her or at least very close to her.
Then her pussy started to quiver and she could feel a cock sliding into her. Very gently, very slowly, with care and attention.
It didn’t feel like a toy or anything like a vibrator or dildo. I mean she would know, she was an expert with them!
It felt like a big, thick, beautiful cock. Slowly filling her up.
It felt divine.
It filled her and stretched her and she wanted more.
In her breathy, scared and aroused voice she managed to say “Fuck me”.
As she said the words they echoed around the room in the same voice that she had heard earlier.
The cock moved inside her, pulling back and then pushing in. Slowly but focused it moved, working her. It seemed to fit her perfectly, well not fit so much as it was certainly stretching her. But it found all of her delicious secret spots instantly, whenever it needed to.
Moving and exploring, filling her and filling her with pleasure.
The pace quickened and she could feel several hands pawing and stroking her body. At least five of them. They all seemed to be working together. To hold her down or to adjust her position and all of them constantly teasing and deliciously tormenting her, while she was being thoroughly and wholeheartedly fucked.
Faster, harder.
Jesus Fucking Christ this is fucking amazing!
She screamed, both with her voice and with every molecule of her being.
“Fuck me, fuck me harder.”
Again the other worldly echoed her words, in harmony.
Her request was granted as this creature, or whatever it was, angrily and passionately ravaged her.
The perfect balance of rough and smooth, tenderness and desire.
Her body and mind melting to its will that was governed by her carnal cravings.
She could have easily climaxed ten minutes ago, or maybe even earlier, with just one of those light, slightly disappointing clitoral orgasms from her own fingers, but she hadn’t.
She had held and waited and waited for it to grow inside of her and grow it did.
The cacophony of stimulation all complimentary to the main show as she was magnificently being fucked into oblivion.
She held, she held, she held.
She was audibly moaning now. Being fucked like a rag doll in the most wonderful way.
As her wails and screams tore through the room they were accompanied by their echo in that same and now somewhat familiar, yet distant, voice.
She could hold no more….
She screamed like she was being slaughtered as she released her orgasm.
The scream shattering through the stratosphere. Again it was echoed with that ethereal voice.
Her body convulsed and spasmed as it dealt with the enormous load of pure pleasurable that was being flooded through it.
She felt, yes she felt the thing explode inside her. As much as her juices were flowing out, trying to escape and to clear out the bliss of her own mind altering orgasm the, whatever it was, filled her up with its own.
Its cock throbbing and driving inside her still as it gushed waves of its own satisfaction.
Their voices merged in screams and growls and yet were separated by tone and dimension.
Together they raged in a whirlpool of ecstasy, thrown together and pulled apart and then slamming into each other’s all consuming passion.
She wasn’t sure if she was completely full or completely empty.
She was exhausted and sated. Oh yes, was she sated.
She slumped in the chair, her limbs hanging. Like a broken and discarded plaything.
Her legs still open and her pussy still throbbing, aching, not sore but aching for more.
She glanced over and could clearly see the space where it had first appeared but now there was nothing, just the glimmer of the lights on her tree.
She knew that it was gone.
All that she could think was about, hope for, crave for, was if and when it would return.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/zmty3t/a_christmas_not_alone