Matt Glaser may not have the Santa Claus beard or belly, but when it comes to earning extra holiday cash, he loves his red suit like a reindeer loves carrots. This potential client, though—classy, curvy Eleanor Danforth—seems more interested in checking out his butt than his references. And two grand for a private party? Oy vey, Prancer, something's not kosher about this particular Vixen.
Her office—Eleanor Danforth, Private Investment Consultant—turned out to be on the fifteenth floor of a vintage, pre-Depression-era brick building. With her champagne blond bob, pearl earrings and tailored suit, Mrs. Danforth had a vintage quality, too. She’d risen to her feet when I entered, giving me the chance to admire her classic features and ample curves. I guessed she was in her early fifties, but she might have been older. Wealth offers tremendous benefits in terms of physical preservation. In any case, she projected a natural authority that made me feel like I was back in high school. I stood in front of her desk with my hands clasped behind my back, as though I’d been sent to the principal for some infraction.
She’d waved me to a chair. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Glaser. May I call you Matt?”
“Sure. No problem.”
“I know this is rather short notice, but I decided at the last minute to throw a party for my husband. A small, intimate party for a few of our closest friends.”
Her emphasis made me squirm in my chair.
“And given the season, I thought it would be great fun to have a Santa and a few elves.” She’d licked her red-painted lips and looked me up and down. “You seem to have the basic qualifications, though I would have preferred someone with a bit more muscle.”
“I’m strong,” I’d objected. “I can bench press a hundred pounds—”
She’d made a gesture of dismissal, her manicured nails a flash of crimson. “Never mind. You have something of a bookish look, but I’ve always been attracted to nerds. Still, I’d appreciate your removing your shirt, just to be sure.”
Perhaps that was the moment when I should have left.
Now it seemed to be too late.
I stood in the middle of the swanky office, bare-chested, my form-fitting underwear betraying my state of helpless arousal. My cock hardened further when my prospective employer rose from her ergonomic chair and circled me on her designer heels, assessing me like some prize bull.
Her perfume tickled my nostrils, a delicate mix of gardenia and musk. “Lovely,” she crooned in my ear, giving my butt cheeks a firm squeeze. I jumped at the unexpected contact, while blood surged into my dick. “Clothes don’t do you justice, Matt. You’re delicious.”
“Um—thank you, ma’am.” The honorific seemed natural.
Her laugh was like silver bells tinkling. “Oh, I like that! Ma’am! Young people these days so rarely show any respect.” She grasped the waistband of the briefs and peeled them down to expose both my ass and my raging cock. “This hard-on, though—that’s not exactly respectful.”
“I—I can’t help it, ma’am.”
Capturing my aching dick in her fist, she stroked the shaft once or twice. I gritted my teeth, trying desperately not to embarrass myself further.
“Yes, I think you’re perfect for the job. But just to make sure…”
Releasing my cock, she hiked herself onto the desk. I let out the breath I’d been holding, then gasped again as she raised her skirt and spread her thighs to display her bare, plump-lipped pussy.
“Your boner suggests that you find me attractive, or at least stimulating. So show me how much you like me.”
“Ma’am?” I knew what she wanted. I just couldn’t quite believe it.
“Roll that chair over here, between my legs, and lick my pussy, my little Santa. Use that sensitive, intellectual mouth of yours to make me come.”
Slick, vermilion folds beckoned, twitching and fluttering around the shadowy hole at her center. As I scooted closer, I noticed droplets of sex juice gathering on the inner surfaces, swelling until they broke and dribbled onto the desk. Her clit was shiny, swollen, cherry-red. A rich, complex odor rose from her cunt, earth and ocean mixed. My dick pulsed in my lap as I breathed her in. What I really wanted was to sink my rod deep into that fragrant wetness. But I knew that I’d have to earn that privilege.
I glanced up at her handsome face.
She winked at me. “What are you waiting for?” Using both hands, she opened herself wide. “Eat me!”
Leaning in, I swept my tongue along her dripping cleft, gathering her juices. Her taste was even stronger than her scent, with a bitter edge that made my saliva flow. I blew on her clit, which quivered in response, then sucked it into my mouth.
Mrs. Danforth arched up, slamming her pubic bone into my nose. “Oh God! That’s too much, too soon! Gently, boy! Gently! Lick and nibble a bit first. Haven’t you ever given head?”
“Only twice,” I admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“Start by running your tongue back and forth in my groove. Use the flat of your tongue. That’s it—oh, that’s good. That’s right.”
I tried to follow her instructions. She moaned and sighed as I diligently licked her folds, applying a firm pressure that seemed to please her. With greater confidence, I varied my strokes, exploring the ripples and wrinkles, then pushing my tongue as far into her channel as it would go. I burrowed deeper, sucking up mouthfuls of pussy-flesh, applying lips, tongue, even teeth to push her higher.
Each time she reacted to my attentions, my cock grew harder. This was a new kind of thrill, having control over someone else’s pleasure. I was focused on giving Mrs. Danforth the best orgasm of her life. At the same time, I was probably more turned on than I’d ever been during actual intercourse.
Now she rocked back and forth, grinding her sex against my face. She flung her legs over my shoulders and used her knees to drag me closer. “Suck my clit,” she gasped. “Suck my clit and I’ll come.”
I pursed my lips around the hot bead protruding from her folds and prodded it with my tongue.
“Damn it, don’t tease,” she growled. “Get me off!”
Grinning inside, I mouthed her whole clit and sucked for all I was worth.
Her whole body tensed. She shook like a tree in a hurricane, whipping her head back and forth. Wetness flooded my face, filling my mouth and nostrils. I didn’t stop, though. I kept sucking, circling the pulsing node with my tongue, raking my teeth over the tip.
“Holy Christ!” she screamed. “I’m coming again.” This time, her convulsions came close to breaking my nose. Her juices nearly drowned me. I had to relent, long enough to take a breath at least. I backed off, gazing at the pussy I’d just devoured.
Her lips were slick and puffy, almost purple. The orifice at their heart repeatedly clenched and released, opening and closing like the gills of a fish. Her clitoris poked out, hard and swollen.
My mouth watered. Could I bring her to climax a third time?
Mrs. Danforth stirred. She rested her hand on my hair. “That’s enough, Matt. For now at least.” She swung her legs off my shoulders, leaned closer, and skimmed some of her juice off my cheek with her long fingers. “Well done.”
I glowed at her praise. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Sliding off the desk, she pulled her skirt back down over her hips to hide her soaked pussy. “The job is yours. If you want it, that is.”
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