0 comments/ 11554 views/ 0 favorites All My Christmases at Once Ch. 01 By: HenryWilcox This is my first attempt at a story, so please let me know what you think of it. Sadly, it is a work of fiction. (C) 2000, Henry Wilcox Permission to post this on the internet is granted, provided this notice is left attached. * It was the office Christmas party. The company had hired out a hotel and conference centre for us to use, and had organised an evening meal with dancing to follow. Since the hotel was a long way from where we lived, my girlfriend and I had booked a room in the hotel to stay in, and brought overnight bags with a change of clothing. I'd had to work late that day and had come straight there from work, while Emma had taken some time off from her job and had packed for us both. I met her at the hotel around six that evening and noticed that she'd brought the small hold-all I'd packed the night before, but a suitcase for herself. "Planning to stay long, are you?" I teased her. "Well, you know me - I have to make myself look beautiful" she replied. In fact, it doesn't take much for her to look beautiful - I thought she was stunning the first time I saw her. Perhaps if I describe her, you'll understand... Emma is about five foot ten, with long red hair down to her shoulder-blades. Her skin is that very pale shade red-heads often have, so she has to be careful in the sun or she burns quite easily. It makes her look almost like a china doll (and yes, she does take that as a compliment!), and I love the freckles she gets in the summer. Her figure is truly stunning - from her long legs, past her curving hips and round her narrow waist, up to her full, but not over-large breasts she is my idea of perfection. I went into the bathroom to have a quick shower after work, while Emma started to unpack her things. I figured she'd take a while, so I didn't have to hurry in the shower. The bathroom in this hotel room was marvellous - a huge bath, and a separate shower which was enormous too. "Fancy joining me in here?" I shouted to her. We'd had some incredibly passionate times in the shower at home, enjoying the smooth, slippery sensations as we soaped each other, and teased ourselves into a frenzy. I was getting aroused just remembering the feeling of making love covered in foamy lather and so was a little disappointed when Emma shouted back: "If I do, you know we'll be late!" "Maybe later then!" I joked, and continued to clean myself up. By the time I was finished, Emma had laid out her clothes and the usual bewildering array of toileteries (why can't women just manage with soap and water, like men? I once asked her, and she replied that they could, if they wanted skin like men. I didn't press the point). She danced into the bathroom, giving me a quick kiss on the way, and started running the water. I smiled, and began to get dressed. Before I even got my shirt on, the room phone rang and I answered it. The reception desk told me there was a message for me - some sort of problem at work, and my boss was downstairs waiting for me. Cursing, I threw the rest of my tuxedo on, and shouted to Emma. I promised her I wasn't going to miss the party, and that I'd see her downstairs when she was ready. I dashed out of the room and down to the lobby. My boss was there, sure enough, and a couple of other guys from the office, and they certainly looked serious. I began to wonder if I was going to make the party after all, when they suddenly produced a bottle of champagne and some glasses. "Surprise!" they yelled. "You were always so stressed working late, we couldn't resist winding you up just a little more!" I took a glass of champagne, and relaxed for the first time all day. The guys took me through to the ballroom where the party was to take place, and as I looked around I saw many people I knew, and many I didn't - I work at a very large company, and this was a combined Christmas 'do' for all the staff. I started to mingle, chatting to the people I worked with, and meeting their partners. I was chatting to one of the junior staff, a new recruit, when his eyes suddenly got a little larger and he started stuttering slightly. Following his gaze over to the doors behind me, I noticed that Emma had just walked in. I smiled to myself, remembering how I'd done exactly the same thing the first time we met. I waved to her, and she started to walk over. She was wearing a stunning green crushed velvet ballgown scooped low in the front to emphasise, but not really reveal, her cleavage, with tiny sleeves that just covered her shoulders. It almost brushed the floor as she walked, with only the tips of her high-heeled shoes poking out as her feet moved, and a modest split up the left hand side which gave me a tantalising hint of her dark silk stockings. Matching elbow-length gloves, a choker made from the same material and a simple pair of ear-rings completed the look. I noticed she was getting jealous looks from a few of the ladies present, and I was getting some evil stares from many of the men - the smile that snuck across her lips told me she'd noticed the same thing. As she reached me, I decided to complete her grand entrance with a 'film-star' kiss - what we'd christened the sorts of kisses you never seem to get in real life, only on the silver screen. Well we made a few enemies that night, as I held her in my arms and we kissed as if the world would end tomorrow and we didn't care. We broke the kiss, and I wrapped my arm around her waist as we walked to our table. I had already decided to make tonight quite special - I'd been working hard all year, and while Emma claimed she never felt neglected, I had been spending more time at work that I'd hoped - so I acted as if this were our first date, really playing the gentleman. I pulled her chair out for her, slid it back in as she sat down, and passed her a glass of champagne. As the food arrived, our conversation sparkled; it was as if we were the only two people in the room and although I say it myself, I was charming. The tensions of the day drained away, we were both relaxed and enjoying each other's company in a way he hadn't for some time - and the sexual tension was starting to build. Our thighs kept brushing against each other, and the looks we were exchanging went from heated, through steaming to smouldering. As the evening progressed, we leaned closer together, and Emma began to brush my face with her gloved hand. The feeling of the velvet against my skin was incredible - the softest touch, but at the same time a caress, and it was driving me crazy. I kissed her then, the softest most loving kiss I think I have ever given her, and she returned it just as gently. The band began to play, and we moved arm-in-arm to the dance floor. END OF PART ONE All My Christmases at Once Ch. 02 This is my first attempt at a story, so please let me know what you think of it. Sadly, it is a work of fiction. (C) 2000, Henry Wilcox Permission to post this on the internet is granted, provided this notice is left attached. * We danced most of the evening, and were among the last to leave the dance floor in the early hours of the morning. I was delightfully happy, and Emma told me how much she'd enjoyed the evening so far. "So far?" I asked, surprised. "But the evening's over!" "But I have a surprise for you, up in the room" she replied. I didn't need telling twice, and we made our way off the dancefloor, and up in the lift to our room. Emma unlocked the door, but before she opened it, she turned to me and gave me a smouldering look. She then pushed the door wide, and motioned for me to go in. I did, and I couldn't believe my eyes. The bed, carpet and floor were all completely covered in plastic sheeting. Covered buckets were arranged along one wall, and I was just about to ask what was going on when I felt a warm, wet wave passing over my head and down onto my back. As the liquid began to slide over my face, I realised that a pot of custard had just been poured over my head, and was now making it's way down my body. I turned to Emma, and she burst out laughing, the litre carton still in her hand, suspended over my head. "Your face!" she cried, and carried on laughing. I cleared the dessert out of my eyes. "How did you..." I started, but before I could finish the sentence, she explained. "I brought the sheeting in the suitcase, and the food was ordered in advance. I made an arrangement with the kitchens to have it all brought up here while we were downstairs. I'm glad to see they remembered to hide this carton behind the door" she said. I was stunned. We'd done a little food-play before, but always in old clothes, in the bathroom at home, nothing in our best party gear, and certainly nothing that required so many buckets... I must have looked a picture, standing there in my tuxedo with custard dripping down my back and over my shoulders. "Don't just stand there" Emma said, "kiss me!" so I did. A long, lingering kiss that hinted at the pleasures to follow, and coincidentally transferred a certain amount of the pudding onto her. When we broke the kiss, I stepped back and looked at her. A few drips had landed on her shoulders, almost bare as they were, some of the custard that had made it's way down the front of my shirt had been transferred to her dress, but for the most part, she was still clean. This was going to change. "So apart from the custard," I asked, "what else have you brought?" I moved over to the buckets, and lifted the lid off the first one. Over a gallon of rice pudding stared back at me. "Hold on," Emma shouted, "we'll get to them in good time..." And with that, she reached under the bed, pulled out a cream pie and hurled it at me from across the room. I had no time to dodge it, and wouldn't have, even if I could. Unfortunately Emma's aim was not as good as she'd thought, and the pie hurtled past me and exploded on the wall behind me. We both turned to look at it, and burst out laughing. That didn't last long, as now I knew where she'd hidden the ammunition, I looked under the bed myself. I grabbed the first pie I saw, a chocolate cream pie in fact, and stood up brandishing it. She looked at me as though daring me to throw it, as though she'd be furious if I ruined her dress. Sadly for her, I could see her tongue curled over her top lip, the way I knew it did if she was aroused, so I threw the pie. My aim was considerably better than Emma's, and the pie landed squarely in her face. The paper plate it had been 'served' on dropped to the floor, and lumps of pastry started to follow it. As the filing started to slide from her face, it dripped onto her dress, and continued the work begun by the custard. Emma cleared her eyes, and gave me the horniest look I have ever seen from her. "You are going to pay for that" she said, and I hoped that she was right. We took a moment to gaze at each other, because we knew this would be the cleanest we would be for the rest of the night. We both wanted to continue this game, but neither of us moved. I decided that I couldn't wait any longer, and went to look under the bed again. I came up with a bottle of strawberry syrup, a dozen eggs, and an erection that was more than visible to Emma across the room. She raised her eyebrows and then struck a pose that said that I should do my worst to her. The eggs were first. I put the box and the syrup on the bed, and removed an egg. I crossed over to Emma, and using my thumbnail cracked the egg slightly. I held it over her beautiful red hair, and pulled the two halves of the egg apart. As if in slow motion, the white and the yolk fell onto Emma's head, and slid down over her face and straight down between her breasts, taking a small piece of pie with them. A stain started to spread across her dress where the egg was soaking in. I quickly repeated the process with another three eggs, and then opened the bottle of strawberry syrup and squeezed it over her head as hard as I could. Emma was delighted, she had her eyes closed, a huge grin on her face, and I could see that her nipples were starting to stiffen against her dress. Not one to pass up an invitation, I moved the stream of syrup over her shoulder and down across her right breast, and was rewarded with a gentle moan from Emma. Again she cleaned her eyes, and then walked over to the bucket I had uncovered earlier. Gesturing for me to join her, she dipped her gloved hand into the gloopy mixture. Her gloves were still almost clean, only a little cake & syrup on the tips of the fingers, but the rice pudding soon saw to that. Emma pulled her hand back out, cradling a little of the dessert in her hand. This she pushed into my face, and started to smear the stuff around. She repeated this a few times, and the sliky smooth feeling of the velvet combined with the slippery feeling of the rice pudding was driving me wild. Emma began to ladle double handfulls of rice pudding out of the bucket and into my pockets - the ones on the jacket first, and then the trouser pockets. I could feel the dampness as it seeped through the material, and I fidgeted, impatient to experience more. But Emma re-covered the bucket, and led me back to the centre of the room. What would she have in store for me now? END OF PART TWO