Steph & Cherry: Christmas Goose — Christopher Newman
The holiday season was here at last. Since the first of the month, when I’d been introduced to a part of myself I didn’t know existed it was a truly Happy Christmas. Cherry, my flat-mate and a burly female lorry driver named Toni had caught me peeping in on them. To be truthful I thought my roomie was with a man.
I was wrong—yet oh, so right.
Toni hadn’t been around much lately. Her job took her across country for weeks delivering groceries during the busy winter holiday. Gone for such long lengths and leaving me at the tender mercies of my flat-mate.
And tender they were indeed.
In a matter of a few passionate, burning nights I’d gone from a certified cock-lover to a finger-banging, quim-munching lezzie. Dining between my roomie’s spread thighs, plunging a strap-on into her twat and letting her do the same I was a fanatical convert to lesbianism. It was all new and exciting. It was a feeling of freedom mixing with a thrill of the forbidden. I knew, as did Cherry this phase wouldn’t last. Neither one of us were dedicated enough to be full-time lezzies and we often took breaks to let the gents in the bars buy us drinks, chat us up and then fuck us silly. I still got wet and moist around the right men but for now I was content with tussling with my roomie. I’d waved bye, bye to bi-curious and said hello to Cherry baby. Occasionally we’d get into a three-way when Toni was back. But usually it was me, Cherry and enough sex toys to make any dedicated pervert blush.
Our flat was done up in true holiday spirit. A large Father Christmas was waving in electric-geared fashion in the window facing the street. A tree, cheap but effective was decorated with bows, ribbons and lights. Money was tight, even with two of us living here. We had to make due on a strict budget. But I refused to cheat us when it came to our first Christmas dinner as lovers. Working some overtime, coming home late and tired (much to both Cherry’s and my disappointment) I’d garnered enough spare funds to buy us a goose. And a shirt, I bought that as well. It was an inexpensive tee with Father Christmas dominating it from neckline to my belt.
It was Christmas Eve. Looking out the window I saw the deep snow on the London streets was illuminated in a soft cheerful light. Below the kitchen window, two stories down I could hear a few kids going about singing carols. It felt like time had slowed down to permit us East Enders to enjoy the holiday since most only got this one day off. In front of me, plucked and open was the bird I’d worked so hard to purchase. The dimpled skin was cold and clammy to the touch. Next to it rested a big bowl of chestnut stuffing.
God that’s almost an indecent sight, I thought of the goose’s open backside and tied up legs.
I stuffed a fistful into the goose. Before I could withdraw my hand a hot shiver emulating from my quivering thighs made their way earthquake-like up to my chest. The sensation making my boobs tremble and I watched my nipples begin to poke into my tee shirt. Suddenly Father Christmas appeared to have two horns growing out of his forehead.
Oh god.. not now, I thought. P-please not now!
We’d been experimenting of late. The other night Cherry, in a shocking admission asked me to fist her bum. So I did. Surfing the Internet to make sure I knew how to do it without hurting her. Then there I was one evening. Sitting behind Cherry, ogling her up-turned bottom I greased up my hand to the wrist. My roomie’s face, from over her shoulder had been a combination of excitement and worry. But minutes later she was screaming in ecstasy, her fingers rubbing her clit while I buggered her. Her long black hair was tossing about like the tail of a happy pony. Afterwards she’d offered me the opportunity but I declined. I wasn’t an anal virgin—Toni’s finger and Cherry’s strap-on had taken that away during my fist shocking session of lesbian sex. But I had been too nervous that night. Now the images of my arm, wrist-deep in her bum came flooding back in my memory.
The goose, my hand and the warm sensation of the stuffing didn’t help.
My quim went into overdrive. In seconds I was slick and humid between the legs and finding it difficult to stay on my feet. My other hand, stuffing-free fell to my groin hovering oh so close to my hungry twat.
“O-okay,” I said out loud, “you want it—but not now.”
“You want what?” a woman said to my left.
It was Cherry. Standing there wearing just a long tee shirt which fell to mid-thigh the long haired brunette I shared a flat with was grinning like a fiend. Her small nipples denting her shirt making me want to reach out and touch them. Her body, unlike mine was petite. I was a much more rounded gal with a D-cup bosom and slightly wider hips. In other words, we never borrowed each other’s clothes. I got into her knickers, but never wore them.
“Uh… nothing,” I lied.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” she replied. “I’ve been watching. You have your fist in a goose and the other one’s a second away from playing with yourself. Still don’t want to try it? Fisting, I mean?”
“I… you see… it’s just…”
She strutted over and kissed me on the neck. This, and the hot memories, made me moan. Her hand was stroking my bottom and it felt like my knees were going to buckle.
“You want it,” Cherry said. “You’ll love it.”
“Yes,” I gasped out. “I probably will.”
Unbuttoning my jeans, Cherry began shucking them down, wiggling them over my hips until they fell in a puddle near my ankles. I wasn’t wearing knickers. I felt her hand on my left calf I picked up the leg while she tugged off my pant leg. Cherry’s hand was around my waist pulling me back until I was bent over the counter, my hand still embedded in the goose. I heard a spurting noise.
“Good thing I brought the lube, huh?” she whispered in my ear.
“Oh… please… be g-gentle,” I said, my voice as quivery as my quim and legs.
“Just relax and don’t fight me.”
Spreading my cheeks she began easing a finger into my bottom, slow and steady it slipped inside. My face grew hot like it always did when we bum-played. Gyrating my hips were moving on their own and only slowed when the second digit joined the first.
“You’re doing splendid, Steph,” Cherry said.
“Aaah…,” I sobbed out long and low.
Finger three invaded followed in quick procession by the fourth until my arse was puckered around the tips of them. The end of her thumb joined them shortly. Cherry was twisting them, making me groan and my bum to loosen up. Reaching around with her other hand my flat-mate began caressing my clit. I only realized I’d bent all the way over when my forehead touched the cool counter top.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yes, oh yes,” I said with a moan.
“And here… we… go.”
“Nnngghh… oh s-shit.. oh shit, Cherry!”
Twisting and pushing her digits into my arse my roomie penetrated it in an agonizingly pleasing manner. Parting my legs I could feel the breeze caused by my shaking knees as they almost hit one another. I deepened my stance, squatting like I was riding a horse. Laying my chin against the counter I saw my free hand, palm down and fingers splayed flat against the surface.
“Almost… in,” Cherry cooed, flicking my love button and easing her hand into me.
“Oh… god!” I said in a deep groaning sob. “I l-like it.”
“Yes, this is so hot.”
Feeling her fingers pop past my outer and inner anal seals, oozing further into my bum made me take quick, deep gasps of air. Tears of joy ran down my face, wetting my cheeks and making puddles under my quivering chin.
I was full.
Impaled on Cherry’s fist, my bum was rotating in small circles while she began to ease her hand in and out of me. I’d never felt anything like it. My arse was stretching, straining to accommodate its intruder while Cherry’s fingers danced like sugar plum fairies on my clit. My vision grew hazy, softening the bright illumination in the kitchen. My idle hand in the goose’s bum was just like, yet unlike Cherry’s fist in my bottom. The sight of where my hand was plunged looking comically ironic.
“Oh… ah… y-yes… so deep… so nice,” I chanted.
“So you like it?” Cherry said with a giggle.
“Yes… it’s so… H-HEY! WHAT ARE YOU… OH GOD… OH GOD!”
“I’m just waving at you, saying hello to your beautiful, sexy bum. Hello bum! How are you today? Full? That’s nice.”
Each time she push her hand in, I rose on the balls of my feet. I could feel her fingers flexing and wiggling inside my bottom sending wave after wave of intense pressure into my brain. Turning my head, my right cheek against the cool surface I saw my hot breath fogging the counter. It whooshed out faster, making the haze of my breath lengthen with each gasp I took. The sloppy sounds of her buggering hand and squishing fingers on my button undid me so fast I barely had enough time to scream.
“Oh my… oh my god… OH MY GOD!” I shrieked like some devote church-goer in the throes of religious ecstasy.
My body was not my own. Thrashing on Cherry’s impaling fist and grinding against her rubbing fingers I bucked and bucked and bucked until my shouts of passion dimmed to grunting whimpers of pleasure.
Withdrawing her fist and taking her fingers off my quim permitted me to sink to the floor. Lifting up her long tee shirt and exposing her naked, wet twat with its strip of neatly maintained fur. Dew-like juices were glistening on her quim-lips. My mouth began watering. I dove in face-first. While I licked, lapped and nipped Cherry let out a long, slow sigh.
“Happy Christmas, Steph,” she said, “I think I gave you the perfect gift this holiday season.”
And she had.
There’s more to Steph and Cherry’s story; read more of their sexy encounter here.
Christopher Newman has been a resident the same county all of his fifty years. Currently he resides at Imagination Street and Depraved Boulevard. A lifelong fan of sci-fi, sword-and-sorcery, horror, mystery, and erotica Chris has been reading and writing since he was first able to do both. You can find more about him at www.christophercnewman.wordpress.com.
Read Christopher’s other sexy stories posted on Every Night Erotica here.