His Unexpected Baby by Jamie Knight
Chapter Eleven - Skye
I hadn’t known where to go for lunch today, or any day, really. I didn’t exactly have the money for restaurants. At least not the ones in this area. The bakery was expensive enough but I considered it more of a business expense.
I also didn’t want anyone to know that particular fact. So, rather than brown bagging it, which could have raised suspicions about the state of my bank account, I had gone across to the café, ordered a hot chocolate and a small sandwich and tried to look as much like a writer as I could.
It wasn’t entirely a con. True, it was a sort of silent justification for why I was eating lunch alone, though I did actually try to get some writing done while I was there. It could turn out to be a pretty good situation, actually. Particularly after I started getting paid on the regular.
Then again, if I was ever really in need of money, I could always try to sell the earrings online. The perfume I was keeping no matter what.
With my belly full of sweetness and two whole paragraphs finished to the point of being polished, I had ventured back across the dangerous street. Traffic lights were apparently more of a suggestion in New York, with taxis being above the law entirely.
Those were two things from the movies that had proved to be absolutely true. Even if the C.H.U.D.s were entirely fiction and the reputation of the city’s pizza was rather overblown.
I hadn’t gotten a new assignment yet, but I was still on the clock, so I returned to my cubicle to look busy until the end of the day. The last thing I expected to find as I went to sit down at my desk was another gift.
I froze for a second, more out of surprise than fear. I had to make sure the whole thing wasn’t a dream or a practical joke. Either one was technically possible, although neither was likely.
Deciding that it was all for real and probably safe, I approached the desk, my excitement growing.
Was I really getting two gifts in one day?
I could hardly believe it.
Whoever my Santa was was very generous, as well as filthy rich. That eliminated any of the other emergency hires. Like me, they had already been struggling to get by before being lucky enough to land this gig for which we hadn’t received our first paycheck yet.
Maybe I had an admirer or friend on the permanent staff. It wasn’t P.C. but I’d already taken to thinking of my Secret Santa as a ‘he.’
There was something about the impracticality of a gift of ludicrously expensive earrings and hard-to-find perfume that smacked, in my young mind, of a guy trying to impress a girl.
And yet again I couldn’t help but wonder and hope that it was Simon. The gift I opened next would only confirm my hypothesis about my Secret Santa’s gender, and strengthen my guess that it was him in particular.
As I extracted the box from its careful wrapping, the guesses flew in my head like bingo balls. The note had given a big clue, telling me to wear whatever was in the package to work the next day, making me think it was some kind of clothing item. Likely something to match my earrings and perfume.
Nope. At least, that wasn’t how it looked at first. Lifting the lid on the box, I found it contained a beautiful set of silk lingerie. How sapphire earrings and rare perfume went with sexy underwear escaped me at first. Then the full meaning of what was happening came at me in a whoosh.
They wanted to see me in it.
Whoever my Secret Santa was, they were giving me an outfit to wear when we met in private circumstances.
Arousal and embarrassment coiled together inside me like snakes. The note hadn’t specified whether I was supposed to wear the lingerie under my clothes like usual, or if they wanted me to wear only the silky and sexy underwear, presumably under a long coat of some kind.
To be honest, both options appealed to me. Either way, I was allowing someone else to dictate something about my life as well as my body in an indirect way.
A naughty smile touched my lips as I realized that I had been right— the most likely person to be my Secret Santa was Simon. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something about the combination of good taste and anachronism that brought him to mind. Plus, he had been rather openly flirting with me, and no one else at the office had been.
I heard someone coming and got the lid back on the box quickly.
“Another present?” asked a co-worker of mine, a nosy redhead named Amber who I had noticed sniffing around my desk before.
“Looks like it,” I said, with a shrug.
“I guess someone was a good girl this year.”
I only shrugged again. There was probably something really clever to say in that moment, a razor barb to cut the girl-bully to the bone and wipe that venomous smirk off her face. I just couldn’t think of what it might be.
“Just be careful,” she warned. “Secret Santas are meant to be kept professional around here.”
I shot her a confused look and was glad when she left. What a nosy hag.
It was surprisingly awkward getting home. Even though there was no way for anyone to know what was in the box, the size of the thing still made public transit a distinctly awkward proposition.
I didn’t waste any time. As soon as I was through the door of my apartment, I made a bee line for the bedroom. Stripping down bare in about a second flat, I slowly slipped into the lingerie, letting the soft touch of the silk stroke its way along my skin.
It felt good.
It felt sexy.
More to the point, I felt sexy.
I turned to look at myself in the mirror, hoping that I would look as good as I felt, and I wasn’t disappointed. Something in the design of the lingerie accentuated all my best attributes— my petite waist and wide hips, my well-endowed breasts— while also concealing the less flattering ones— my cellulite and love handles.
It was a new feeling, to be sure, but it was one that I really liked. With a breath of courage, I turned a bit more, so I could look at my ass. It was always the part of my body that I had the most anxiety about. My only conciliation was that my breasts were also round and firm, so at least I was proportional.
As with the front, though, my rear looked amazing. They would probably never know it, but whoever had given me the lovely lingerie had given me something else. A new perspective of myself.
I thought of Simon. His eyes, his lips, his hands. He had never actually touched me, but his hands looked so gentle and lovely. I wanted to feel them all over me. The same went for his lips and, if I was really lucky, his tongue.
It was like a force of nature. There was no point in fighting in case I was torn asunder by the attempt. It was best to just go with it and see where it took me.
Giving myself over to impulse, I lay down on my bed and opened my legs, mostly because it felt right. As before, my hands seemed to move by themselves, surprising even me with what they were doing.
Not that I objected. It was still pretty new, but felt wonderful. Particularly when I imagined it was Simon’s hand, exploring every inch of my body that I could reach myself.
On the way back up my thighs from a jaunt down to my knees, my hand took a turn and ended up laying on the crotch of the lovely silken panties. Curious, I started to stroke, feeling the beautiful material stroke up against my pussy. A pleasured moan escaped me, making me smile.
I didn’t know exactly what it was, but a tingling sensation soon came over me. Soon, I wanted to feel more. Pulling up the waist band of my panties with my other hand, I caressed down over my pelvis and cupped my pussy.
Trying to remember what had felt the best last time, since I had had such an amazing orgasm then and wanted a repeat, I started to stroke the outside of my pussy, working my fingers over my delicate lips.
The pleasure built up quickly. Small quivers were already starting to happen. The first stage of the massive tremors that had happened were happening again. I desperately wanted to feel another one like that and was willing to do whatever I had to in order to get there.
Surrendering myself entirely to instinct, which was a logical first step before surrendering to another person, I figured, I slipped a finger into my hungry little pussy. Since it didn’t feel as if it was nearly enough, I tried another.
Nope, not yet. My fingers weren’t big, but they were long, and they were almost all the way in there, right up to the third knuckle. They were already crossed, like I was really hopeful. I had to do that to get both of them in there because of the limited space. Yet my starving pussy still wanted more.
Moving in the tiniest of increments, I slipped a third finger deep inside me, somehow getting it in as far as the first two. It felt huge, with all three of them bunched up together like that, making what felt like one big thing. I laughed out loud, remembering that ‘thing’ was what I thought a cock was called until well into my teens.
“Cock,” I said, in an act of defiance.
It felt good. So good, I couldn’t really stop.
“Cock, fuck, pussy, anal, tits, cock, cock, cock!”
All the sinful words I was always forbidden to say were not coming out like a mantra. A prayer to an earthly deity of fun and pleasure. There was a time in which I would have blushed, but I only laughed louder now. A gleeful celebration of liberation as I started to pleasure myself for the second time.
I went much further than I had before, both literally and figuratively. All three fingers were pumping deep inside me, gradually increasing in speed. I angled my wrist ever so slightly and a new world of pleasure opened before me as my fingers brushed up against my clit with each and every movement.
As I moved and the pressure went through me like nobody’s business, my mind turned back to cocks. Simon’s, in particular. I’d never seen it, of course, but I could imagine. I could definitely think about what it looked like and I did.
Each stroke of my fingers became a thrust of his big cock in my head. It was like I could see him on top of me, looking down with his warm blue eyes, warming my soul as he tended to my pussy. Giving me all the pleasure I’d never known I’d wanted but craved like life itself the second I knew it was possible.
In my head, I wrapped my legs around him as he moved, taking hold of his shoulder and trying to make it so that he couldn’t pull out. Not that I had any reason to think he was entertaining any such notions. But better safe than sorry, I figured. I was fairly sure I just might have died if he stopped before we had reached our conclusion.
Simon kissed me as he fucked me, working his huge cock deep in my tight virgin pussy, filling me with pleasure. What would turn out to be a massive orgasm was already building inside me.
As with Simon’s cock, I could really only guess what it would feel like to have him cum inside me. This was another thing I was suddenly and deeply desperate for. Nonetheless, it happened at the same time as my real-life orgasm.
It was a warm, thick rush, filling me up inside. The warmth flew through every bit of me, making it feel like it was coming up from the core of me. I could have woken a hibernating bear with the sheer, ecstatic volume of my wail as I hit the apex of my orgasm.
I had taken the fancy panties off a while ago and was glad. It was far from a dry orgasm and I would have hated to have to take the lingerie into the dry cleaners. Not least because I wouldn’t be able to wear it to work the next day, and that would be defying a request by my Secret Santa. I just couldn’t do that.
I crashed back down onto the bed, having contorted myself up into some interesting shapes during my ecstatic exaltation. Physically spent but cosmically happy, I managed to get the rest of the lingerie off and then convinced my still shaking legs to go all the way over to the dresser, so that I could put them away for the morning.
I was already excited to discover how that was going to play out.
