Excerpt from "A Naughty Christmas Carol"
An erotic holiday novella (30,000 words)
Chapter 1:
GREED IS GOOD on Christmas Eve.
Nick Radnor lived and breathed that credo the way other men craved a good blow job.
He drove himself harder than any trader on Wall Street. Up at dawn, a fast jog through the underbelly of the city, then a quick stop in his limo for coffee. Black, two sugars. No milk. Milk was for wusses.
Nick had a cast iron stomach and tight abs. He was tall, handsome and could wheel and deal with the best of them. Talk on his cell to his bankers with one hand and find his way under the elastic band on his secretary’s black silk panties with the other.
Ah, the sweet smell of success.
No, not his trigger-happy fingers. His willingness to get down and dirty to get the job done.
Which was why Nick was working late on Christmas Eve. He hated holidays. Especially Christmas. Business grinded to a halt with everyone getting drunk and muttering “Ho, ho, ho” like it was a hot stock.
He’d hated Christmas ever since he was a kid. No shiny, new bike for him. Only black coal in his stocking.
“Coal means energy, son,” said his old man, slapping him on the back. Hard. “That’s where your future lies.”
A boy of ten didn’t understand the glowing light in his father’s eyes, his fervent passion to make the deal no matter who he hurt. Instead his savage desire to make money drove a wedge between father and son.
Nick tensed. Forget the old days. He had to get these figures to his overseas constituents before the next day of trading. The Asian markets would be open and he stood to lose thousands of dollars if his numbers were off.
He loved watching the zeros multiply like horny rabbits. The thrill of the game turned him on. Nick couldn’t get enough of the frantic pace of Wall Street. The cars were sleeker, the women curvier, the smart phones smarter. To his eyes, even the snowflakes drifting down over the city were shaped like dollar signs.
He flipped his attention back and forth between two computer screens, checking and re-checking his figures. Thank God the foreign markets paid no attention to all the hooey about five golden rings and a pear-sick partridge.
Speaking of gold, Nick thought about the conversation he’d had yesterday with a Swiss colleague about his bank accounts overseas. He had more than doubled his assets in precious metals--
Was that the door opening? The sound of jingle bells in his office?
And the smell of perfume. Spicy with an underlying hint of a female aroused.
“Mr. Radnor…”
The perfume was overpowering now.
Nick didn’t take his eyes off his computer screen. “Come back later, Jinger, I’m busy.”
Jinger Hunt, office girl extraordinaire. Summa cum laude Columbia. Business and finance. Then a year of law school until her money ran out. She tried working as an escort, but the johns complained she was too smart. She intimidated them with her brains and they lost their erection. Came to work for him as his secretary.
Nick paid her a good salary, but Jinger kept bucking for a promotion to the board room. Women didn’t belong there, he insisted, no matter how smart they were.
So Jinger quit, then came back. Said she’d play the game his way. She needed a job. They compromised. She called herself his executive personal assistant, a fancy name she came up with, but in his mind she was still his secretary. She kept his calendar, scheduled his meetings and prepared his financial documents.
She also looked great doing it.
“Have you forgotten our appointment?” Jinger purred.
Nick looked up. “Holy shit.”
He had been so engrossed in his stock portfolio that he’d forgotten their holiday fuck. A tradition he initiated her first year working for him. How long ago was that? Five, six years? He’d lost track.
Jinger didn’t.
Standing in the doorway, the six-foot tall blonde wore red high heels, a black garter belt and black stockings with a red-and-white striped candy cane strapped to her thigh. She wore nothing else but a leather collar around her neck studded with rhinestones and jingle bells.
Seeing her standing there with her bare pussy dusted with gold holiday glitter turned him on. Big-time. His boxers felt tighter than they had a minute ago. Fuck the Asian markets. They could wait.
Nick couldn’t take his eyes off her, her Santa cap tilted to one side, the furry white ball on the end swaying back and forth as she hung a sprig of mistletoe on a light fixture.
To put him in the mood? He licked his lips. Man, just looking at her sweetened his day.
He took in the curve of her big breasts and tight brown nipples. For a women her size, she had amazing breasts. He liked to bury his face in her cleavage, then fuck her while standing her against the wall. In heels, she was still an inch shorter than he was.
No woman ever towered over him. In business or in bed.
Never taking her eyes off his, Jinger pulled the long candy cane from her black garter and began licking it, nice and slow.
Did it just get hotter in here?
Nick wasted no time shedding his pin-striped Armani suit, white shirt and silk tie. Then his shoes and socks. Jinger never stopped licking the candy cane, twirling her tongue around the curved head, making sucking noises that pleased him. He couldn’t wait for her minty lips to go around his dick.
Her eyes widened when his cock popped out of his boxers like a jack-in-the-box.
Ready for action.
“Have you been naughty or nice, Jinger?” Nick said, running his hand up and down his long shaft.
“Naughty, Mr. Radnor,” she cooed, “very naughty.”
She wiggled her shoulders to prove her point, then yanked off the Santa cap and tossed it to him.
Nick caught it and plopped it on his head. “Come to Santa, baby.”
Jinger smiled wide, then threw the candy cane into the trashcan. She sat down on his lap and played with the curly black hairs on his chest, her long shiny nails sending prickles of heat down to his groin. Without missing a beat, Nick opened his mouth to claim hers in a kiss, his tongue diving between her red lips. Instinctively, he pulled her closer to him, crushing her nude breasts against his chest, his tongue working overtime exploring her mouth.
The taste of sugary peppermint cooled his tongue, but not his desire. His hard cock moved against her belly, trying to find its way into her.
“Not yet, Santa,” Jinger said, breaking the kiss. Her voice was husky, her half-opened eyes dreamy.
“Don’t tease me, Jinger,” Nick said in a brusque tone. She stiffened. He hadn’t meant for his words to sound harsh, but he was tense. Way tense. Christmas always did this to him. He just wanted the damned holiday over with.
“I know how to relax you,” she whispered, grabbing his dick, her long fingers curling around his shaft, then sliding her hand up and down. Higher each time until her fingertips brushed the swollen, sensitive head. She squeezed it just enough to make him suck in his breath. He grabbed her hair and pulled on it, clenching his teeth.
Damn, he couldn’t hold back much longer.
Jinger sensed his hunger for her hot pussy. She slipped a red holiday condom on his dick then did what any good secretary would do.
She sat on his cock.
Wiggling her ass from side to side, her pubes contracted around him, squeezing and pulling him deep inside her, letting herself go with abandon. Bouncing up and down close to his face, her big breasts provided the side show.
Unable to hold back, Nick grinded into her with the same hard drive he had in business, thrusting deep into her. Pumping hard. His heart racing, hair falling down over his eyes, his face dripping with sweat. His breath was ragged, his jaw set hard.
Giving her no respite, he pushed upward, his whole body throbbing with need.
Snorting loudly, he exploded into her. His senses reeled and a long shudder went through him. His breathing was uneven, but Nick was a happy man. Nothing could be better than this. Not even putting over those subprime loans.
Best fuck he’d ever had on Christmas Eve.
Was it?
Somewhere in the back of his brain, another night of passion skirted along the edge of his mind. The soft touch of a woman’s lips…her smile as warm as a summer sunset. So long ago…
“Please, Nick…make me come.”
Jinger. Her pretty features contorted, her fingers splayed over her groin. She bit down on her lip. She had a look in her eyes that said she was close, so close.
What could he do about it? His erection was gone. He was so damn tired from working on the overseas figures, it would take him at least twenty minutes to get hard again.
More important, he got his mind-blowing orgasm. He was the boss.
“Christ, Jinger, use your fingers.”
Making a face at him, she pursed her lips, then closed her eyes and got to work, stroking her swollen clit slowly at first, then faster and faster.
He had to give it to her. She’d picked the perfect time for his holiday fuck. Everyone was gone. The secretaries, the messenger boys, even the cleaning lady was on her way home to leave cookies for Santa.
Located on the sixty-second floor, his office was as quiet as a church mouse lost in the big city.
Except for the jingle bells ringing loud in his ears. Wrapped around Jinger’s pretty neck, she threw her head back as she finished herself off, stimulating herself until her pleasure bud burned.
“Oh, Nick, it feels good…so good,” she cried out, bucking hard. Her breasts flapped up and down while she rubbed her clit back and forth.
“Yeah, baby…come for me,” Nick grunted.
“Yes…yes!” She let go with a guttural cry, then moans of pure pleasure that never seemed to stop. Finally a long, deep sigh escaped her lips, her shoulders slumped, her whole body exhausted. Beads of sweat oozed down over her breasts, forming pearl-sized drops hanging from the tips of her pointy nipples.
Nick pulled her down to him and licked the pearly drops off her nubs. One than the other. Salty mixed with minty on his tongue, making him smile.
But the jingle bells were getting on his nerves.
“Do you have to wear that slave collar when I fuck you?” Nick said, pinching her buttocks.
She winced. “You bought it for me last Christmas.”
He slapped her butt and Jinger climbed off his lap, then grabbed clean monogrammed towels out of the bottom drawer in his desk, next to his stack of condoms.
Nick said, “Take off that damn collar.”
She wiped her pussy clean. “Than I’ll be naked.”
Nick smiled. “You’re still wearing a garter belt and high heels.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” She giggled.
He clenched his jaw. There she goes again, playing that dumb blonde routine.
It turned him on and she knew it. Anything to get that promotion.
It wouldn’t do her any good. He just let her think it would.
Not this year, Jinger.
Ho, ho, ho.
