No Refunds or Exchanges

[Don Jetman]

L finds a way to give me a unique Christmas present at her workplace holiday party,
hobnobs with a pervy director, and loses her undies along the way to planning the
perfect surprise.


No Refunds or Exchanges

by Don Jetman


Christmas parties are a thing of the past at my company. Maybe it was the expense, or
the liability of an open bar where large groups of diverse people may say or do
things they later regret. But the tradition lives on at L's workplace. I usually join
her at these things, but I'm almost always ready for the night to end long before it
does. There was a time when I feared we'd be faced with an awkward interaction with a
young doctor who had fucked L a few times, but his infatuation soon forced her to
call it off. He was civil about it, but couldn't let go for a while. Still, L's fears
of being outed were all too real.

Since then the parties have been scaled down, or at least divided into related groups
within the hospital. Most are arranged and funded by employees with limited guest
lists to match their funds. Now the people I meet are from QA and accounting groups -
doctors and those in related fields don't attend. A relief, since her doctor
fuckbuddy still asks her out (unsuccessfully) now and then.

I don't even consider L playing at these events, although a coworker and L now fuck
often, sometimes in our home, but also at the office now and then late at night.
Frank has been a good friend for a few years now - L loves working with him and
adores fucking him. I like him as well, and the three of us spend time together
socializing when he stays weekends in our home. He's twenty years my junior, an
athletic 6'8" doppelganger for an NBA center, and a consummate professional my wife
respects as a trusted coworker. I like his honesty and enjoy his sense of humor,
especially when it comes to sex.

So, I pass the bathroom as L's getting ready, and she's standing there, leaning
toward the mirror doing her makeup, wearing my favorite matching pair of black lace
bra and panties. I'm puzzled, even shocked a bit that she'd choose them for a night
with her coworkers. Maybe it's just to tease me a little before we leave. But she
dresses over them - nothing sexy - a dark, long-sleeved burgundy blouse and cream-
colored slacks. None of it is form-fitting or suggestive, except for the undies
beneath them. So, maybe it's just to tease me all night long, knowing what I'll get
to remove after we get home. She doesn't mention the racy underwear at all, but she
knows it will torture me all night imagining what she'd look like without her
clothes in front of all those men.

They've rented a medium-size conference room at a local hotel. There's a decorated tree
and a buffet with bite-sized finger food - and an open bar with limited beer and
wine. We mingle, and I meet a few new people as well as chat with a few couples we've
known for years. I'm not great at small talk, but L handles that with ease. I
look for men ogling L, my imagination fired by the black, lacy things I know she's
wearing. Nothing's going to happen here, but I can't get her lingerie off my mind.
OK - I'm a pervert. But dammit, L put me up to it!

I get a beer and a glass of wine for L, and we find a table after visiting the
buffet. An older couple joins us and introduces themselves. I think they're a bit
formal, and L does the talking as though she knows them, but not well. I catch him
glancing down over L's body - he seems especially fascinated with how her legs and
ass fill out the light colored slacks. Her ass does look great, and now and then I
can see a slight hint of a very skimpy panty line that isn't visible when she stands.
The guy's wife doesn't notice his ogling, and his glances are so brief I wonder if
I'm imagining his secret dirty fantasies about my wife. After they leave L tells me
he's a director several levels above her, and rumors about his affairs are legendary.
I tell her he was staring at her ass, but she doesn't believe me. But she's sober and
quiet for a while after I tell her. I want to tell her I'm sure he really wants to
fuck her, but I can't - not here. But I think she knows. At least now she does.

L goes to the ladies room and I get another beer at the bar. It's going to be a long
night - much too long before I get to slide those black panties down L's legs.
Thinking about her director doing just that has me a little hard now, and I retreat
to our table to hide what may become a full blown boner. I play with the idea of L
fucking him for a raise or promotion. I doubt she'd do it, but the fantasy of having
her become her boss's boss's mistress is a powerful one. My erection chubs a little
more, and I try to calm myself. It'll never happen. It'll never happen. You pervert,
you. But those fucking black panties are haunting me. And I bet she knows. In fact,
I'm sure of it.

Eventually I see L talking to Frank across the room. It looks like innocent chatting,
but I'm always looking for some erotic expression or gesture that might go unnoticed
by their coworkers. Staring long enough to arouse suspicion by others can be
dangerous if I'm not totally aware of the time I spend doing it. It can be tricky -
thinking with my dick instead of my head. So I go to the buffet again for a better
view and munch and drink, pretending I haven't noticed them at all. I'm just trying
to look like the clueless husband.

Later, L comes up to me as though she has something to say, picks at the buffet as
she fills a small plate, then leads me off to a table. On our way, she hesitates,
turns to me, and tells me, "See that guy over there? The handsome black guy in the
gray shirt?"

I look for a few seconds, but the only guy I see is Frank.

"I only see Frank," I tell her.

She gives me one of her sideways glances and a little smirk.

"Oh - have you met him?"

OK - I know she's teasing, and in a way no one here would understand. She's had one
glass of wine, but sometimes that's enough to get her started, especially when she's
feeling happy and horny. We're sitting far enough from the other guests, so I'll play
along, for a while.

"Um, no - I guess I heard someone else say his name earlier. I haven't met him.
Should I?"

L turns and faces me, moves closer, and looks at me with a serious, somewhat guilty
stare.

"I met him right after we got here. He's - he's, well - very sure of himself. He told
me he's going to fuck me, here, tonight, and there's nothing you can do about it."

I glance around to make sure we're not within hearing distance of the others, then
decide how to play with it.

"Well, that's pretty rude, isn't it? I mean, just telling someone's wife that when he
knows she's here with her husband? Who does he think he is?"

L looks at me quietly for a minute with the same guilty stare, then begins again in a
soft whisper.

"Don, he said I look like I need sex. He said I look like I'm not getting enough
at home, and that I need the kind of sex to fix that - and to enjoy myself the rest
of the night."

She's so adept at this that I nearly feel as though it's really happening to an
unsuspecting husband and wife. Her face is unflinching. It seems so damned real.

"And he thinks I won't stop it?" I argued. "He thinks I won't go over there and - "

"Don, look at him. He's a foot taller and twenty years younger that you. You can't
start a fight here in front of the people I work with. Besides, I think you'd get
hurt. Just look at him."

So, I pretend to get quiet, to think about the embarrassment, and the ass-kicking
I'll probably get. L slides her fingers inside the waist of my pants, takes me by my
belt, and gently pulls me closer. Do the others wonder why she's moved so close
against me, whispering in my ear?

"He's right, Don. I have to do it. I mean, I want to do it. It's something about the
way he orders me to do it. The way his voice gets to me. I knew right away I had to."

I try showing both offense and submission, uncertain which is stronger. Inside, the
game is getting me hard, and that's a problem here. My dress slacks won't hide a
boner well, and leaking precum through them would be a disaster. Slow down.
Concentrate. It's just a game. But it's L's game, and it's unbearably hot.

"So, he thinks he can just go up to a man's wife, talk to her for a few minutes, and
she'll let him fuck her? When her husband's right here, across the room? And after
that, you tell him you'll do it? That it's OK to fuck you? I - I don't know what to
say to you. Why? How could you do that?"

L tugs again on my belt. Her face is more intense.

"I could have done it behind your back, Don. I could have sneaked off somewhere and
let him fuck me and never told you. But he made me tell you. He wants you to know. He
wants you to know I can't say no to him, and he wants you to know before it happens.
He - is - going - to - fuck - me. Here. Tonight. You just have to let him. You have
to wait till it's over, accept it, and forget it. Because I can't say no to him - and
I won't."

L turns and walks across the room to him. She nods as they speak, and I see a wide
smile appear on Frank's face. I sit at the table and watch, mostly to try to both
hide and deflate my erection. It's one of the riskier games L has come up with. Isn't
she afraid the people she works with will find out - that she and Frank are lovers?
That they fuck at work late at night all the time? How far is she planning to go with
this?

I move to the buffet/bar again and grab a beer. A few of her coworkers I know chat
with me, ask about our holiday plans, and eventually ask where L has disappeared to.
I pretend I don't know, excuse myself, and circle the room to look for her. She and
Frank are both missing. I check outside the hotel conference room, up and down the
halls and lobby, but don't see any sign of them. I finally see them entering the
conference room thirty minutes later, chatting just as they were earlier. If they've
fucked, there was no sign of it.

Frank sits with us at our table, just the three of us, and everything seems normal.
There's a DJ, and people dance and chat through the evening. Frank and L talk about
work mostly, and I listen. He tries to bring me into the conversation now and then
with his usual humor, but it feels strange having to avoid the usual talk about L's
body, or the sex they had the night before. I wonder if he's in on L's little game,
but assume he has to be, that L has already told him. I wonder if they fucked during
the short thirty minutes I couldn't find them. L's hair and clothes still show every
bit of perfection.

Now I'm obsessed with finding clues, and I notice L isn't wearing the bra she left
home with. Her blouse is roomy and dark burgundy, and it's barely noticeable. But for
a second I see an open space between the buttons, enough of one to glimpse the bare
curve of her breast. I can still see her in the tiny thing before leaving - the
black, lacy half-bra that shows just enough flesh. Not slutty. But discreetly
suggestive. Classy in a way that might make men wonder what she's like in bed - that
might make men wonder if she'd really fuck them, or if she's just a tease. Just a
year ago she would never have worn it on a night like this where coworkers might
notice the suggestion of a bare nipple beneath the dark fabric.

I think about the other men who might have had these same thoughts tonight. Men who
just didn't quite have the balls to make it happen, but wanted her all the same when
they looked down her blouse. There was ample room to get a look from above when her
body allowed it - a slight bow to fill her plate or take the drink at the bar, or
leaning in to share a laugh with a small circle of men who always seemed to gather
around her. Had she left a button or two undone to make the stunning sight of her
lacy bra more likely? Was she enjoying thoughts of all the filthy fantasies they
might have about her? How many had looked down her blouse and thought about getting
her away from me into some dark place where they could finger and fuck her. All those
hopes and wishes that my pretty wife would be their secret slut. And after, their
secret satisfaction that I'd never know they had my wife.

The party winds down. The room begins to empty. No more DJ. Just a few tipsy couples
saying their holiday goodnights and goodbyes for those with vacation until the new
year. We walk to the lobby with Frank and he stops, scans the space around us, pulls
a wad of black material from his pocket, and puts it in my hand. I open my hand to
find L's panties, wrinkled and slightly damp as they slowly unfold and expand into a
growing ball of black lace. It's my turn to scan the lobby, but no one seems to
notice.

L smiles at me - watches me stare into the crumpled ball of panties. She smiles wider
as I stuff them into my pocket.

"I told you I couldn't say no to him," she whispered in my ear as she moved against
me, her breasts pressing against my shirt. I look down and see her nipples harden as
her blouse gapes open - she's undone another button to show me. Anyone might see the
upper curves of her breasts now, her white skin a glaring V against the dark blouse.
But it's late, and no one sees us waiting at the bank of elevators. She rubs her
breasts against me, making sure I notice her bra's gone.

"I'm naked under my clothes, Don."

I tell her I know, and that I think she looks even better that way. She smiles.

"He wants me all night, Don. And I can't say no. He's that good. I'm going to his
room now. To let him take my clothes off. To let him inside me again."

L slips me a room key in a paper sleeve with the room number. It's last minute and
stealthy, and I wonder if Frank's in on it.

The elevator doors open. Inside it's brightly lit - not the dark place some men would
need to seduce her. They enter together and turn to face me. The doors begin to close,
then part again at L's hand. I imagine her naked under her clothes, more so now than
at any time during the party. She's opened another button and the bare V between her
breasts yawns open, scandalous in public, but for a few seconds until the doors close
only meant for me. Now they're a couple, in heat, and all of what I see is his.

Just before the elevator doors close, she silently mouths the invitation - "twenty
minutes".

Maybe somewhere tonight this is actually happening - an unsuspecting husband is being
cuckolded for the first time by his wife and a man she couldn't say no to. But
tonight the husband isn't unsuspecting - not really. Tonight it's a game - L's game.
It's risky and sexy and I'm surprised. But I'm a player in it, not a husband being
played like that other husband might be. Thank God.

The doors finally close, and L peers through the opening at the last minute with a
mischievous smile I know so well.

I wait the twenty minutes, take the elevator to their floor, and use the key to
enter. The open door throws a beam of light into the darkened room. I step in and
close it, anxious to see Frank fuck L for the very first time. I think this is my
Christmas present - that he's finally agreed to let me watch after all this time.
The best Christmas present ever.

I see his dark body moving over L, and her pale legs locked around his waist. She's
pulling him closer, trying to keep him inside her. I hear him groan - cumming in my
wife, and I'm excited but sorry I missed so much. Suddenly he turns to look at me
like I'm an intruder. He frees himself and stands by the bed, squinting to see who's
in the room with them.

"Oh man - it's only you. I thought we were being robbed," he tells me with a sigh of
relief. "I didn't know you had a key."

L turns on the bedside light and I see him standing there, naked, with the filled
condom halfway off his cock, like it's bragging, taunting me with the evidence that
he was just inside L. His cock hangs swollen and heavy, swaying slightly between his
legs, the full tip of the condom swinging like a tiny pendulum. L lays half-covered
by the sheet, her legs still spread, her pussy and one leg exposed.

In that awkward moment, I offered to let them have the room for the night as L had
promised, and said that I'd love to watch, just for a while. Frank was pulling at the
condom, trying to rid himself of the evidence. "Here - let me," L told him. She slid
the slippery thing off his cock and placed it beside the bed.

"Nah - it's all good," he said. "You know how I am about that. I know you're cool
with it, but you know I can't. Having you watch is just too weird for me."

L sits on the side of the bed and takes his hand.

"It's OK - he'll just sit quietly. You won't even know he's there. He just wants to
see us together. We both want this - can you try? Just this one time?"

Frank pauses like he's almost convinced. I'm sure L's hand in his will make a
difference. The way he looks at her with such desire and affection. I watch his cock,
hoping it begins to grow as he imagines L's willing body under him again. It doesn't.

Frank has never been a true Bull. Maybe a reluctant one, but not the Dom L craves at
times. He just loves fucking L, and that I'm fine with it is a bonus. He has regular
sex with a wife that gets him hot, and he doesn't have to deal with an irate husband.
I understand all of that - I always have. L gets a good friend with benefits, and I
get to see her happy and satisfied. Having him in our home, letting him share our bed
with L, even just listening outside the closed bedroom door is hot as well, and my
talks with Frank the morning after are fascinating. Many mornings we sit at the
breakfast table and I listen to him talk about how great L is in bed, how hard it is
to keep his hands off her at work, how he can't resist her body - talk that sometimes
lengthens and thickens his cock slightly until the tip emerges from the open leg of
his boxers. But there's never a word of competitiveness from him. Never even the
suggestion that he's better than I in bed, or that L desires him more. He does
"morning afters" with class, appreciation, and always good humor. "I don't know how
you do it, man," he's told me. "Sex with L is so great - maybe the best ever - her
body, the things she does...whew!" Frank's a class act - and great in bed as well,
according to L.

After he considers what I'm sure is an offer L has made impossible to refuse, he
declines.

"Tonight's been fun, and that's how I'd like to keep it," he tells us. "We did what
we came for - twice. It's time to go. Enjoy what's left of the night, both of you.
And have a merry Christmas."

Frank dresses and leaves, and I wonder where we go from here. L seems to know, as
though every minute is an opportunity, not a disappointment.

"Finish me," she tells me, as she lies back on the bed and spreads her legs. She's
still wet and swollen, and I watch her nipples harden. I undress and climb onto the
bed, and she stops me.

"The condoms - get the condoms."

I'm confused - I hope the game is over. Besides, unless Frank has left extras, I
don't have any.

L reaches over to the bedside table, picks up Frank's used condom, and hands it to
me.

"Get the other one - it's in the bathroom."

I find it wadded in some tissue and bring it back to the bed.

"You want me to put this on?" I ask. Part of the contents has escaped, but they're
both still almost full. Jesus, Frank really unloaded in the first one. Impressive.

L giggles. "No, Don. Empty them, here, like he came on me." She points to her belly.
"Remember Halloween? What the 'Demon' did to me? Like that...".

It's something new with her, this fascination with semen. I remember years ago when
she thought it was simply a mess to clean up after we fucked, then later as a hotwife
when the concern became pregnancy or disease. Then not long ago it was her decision
to let her Dom (and only him) come in her, and the Halloween role play with the huge
"Demon" who covered her with cum in a fantastical display of domination as I sat tied
to a chair and watched. Obviously a new fetish for L - one we'd have to talk about
when the time was right.

I stand over her and empty the condoms onto her, milking the contents from the slimy,
wriggling remnants of Frank's fucking.

"Do what the Demon made you do," she told me. "Here, and here."

I spread the semen over her belly, then up and over her breasts and neck. It's drying
as I work, getting stickier and stickier. I run my fingers through her hair on one
side and leave a little trail on her cheek.

"Now, fuck me," she says.

I can't help thinking of Frank when she locks her legs around me - how she was so
greedy for his cock when I first entered the room. She's still wet from him, and his
semen's a thin, slippery barrier between us even though I was deep inside her. Is she
thinking what I'm thinking? That Frank had her first, and his semen is a reminder of
that? That even as she wants me, a wet film of his living sperm assures my stomach is
denied the touch of her belly, my chest the touch of her breasts?

"Fuck me, Don. Fuck me like he does - like you're both fucking me..."

Sometimes it's instant - my reaction to a new, simple combination of words she uses
during sex. Visceral at first, they hit my gut and seconds later strike my
imagination like lightning. It triggers my orgasm, and mine triggers hers. It sweeps
over us like we're a single being taken by a force so powerful that time stands
still. How can a single orgasm possibly last this long? Nothing else, no one else
matters. Sustained, effortless and free, like falling and soaring at the same time.
And after, sleep comes seamlessly, as though it was all a dream - the best dream two
can share.

The next morning we shower together. L teases me as Frank's crusted semen washes away
down the drain.

"You never knew how much he comes, did you? Are you jealous?"

"If you like that, if it excites you, why would it bother me?" I tell her. "As long
as it doesn't end up inside you..."

She gives me that teasing, sideways look, thinking for a few seconds before
answering.

"Hmmm, well, if someone wanted his baby I'd say she'd have a pretty good chance."

It sets me back a little, but she's still grinning.

"Do you have fantasies about that - having his baby?" I ask.

"Don't worry, Don. I just want his cum, not his baby."

"Well, that's a relief," I answer, grinning myself.

"Huh - I never thought I'd hear my husband tell me he's relieved that I want a lot of
another man's cum. Good to know...".

"Riiight...," I tell her.

She always has the last and best words. And the best presents. No refunds or
exchanges. Here's wishing that next year Frank and I might unwrap ours together.

Don

[Asterix42]

Thanks Don. Another great story. Very much enjoy everything you write.

[Frenchie]

Fantastic !

As ever !

[samlowen]

L certainly is full of surprises these days. Too bad Frank isn't okay with you being present.

[SamWarrens]

Great story! Keep them coming.

[DavidnDaria]

Hot Story, Don! L was on fire! We wonder what's on her mind?

[Don Jetman]

Thanks everyone - it's nice to have an appreciative audience.

sam: It's been Frank's position for a long time, so it wasn't a big disappointment. L thought it would be an especially hot Christmas present, but I got my present anyway - an even better one.

DavidnDaria: it was her excitement to have me watch, I'm sure, but she's also been a bit obsessed with semen after the Halloween party. After talking about it, she had two reasons - the the idea of "taking it" from a man (my words were draining him, and she liked that), and also the implied sense of masculinity, his living sperm spread over her as though she was even more completely owned by him. It's contradictory, I know - "taking" it from him as though she's in control, and also using the idea to feel owned by being covered by living part of him. I don't quite know how she puts the two together at the same time, but that's L. Gotta love it.

Don

[OOAA]

Congrats for your first story of the year!!!!!

Btw, happy new year to everyone

[Don Jetman]

Congrats for your first story of the year!!!!!

Btw, happy new year to everyone

Thanks - and best wishes for a happy new year to you and yours as well!

Don

[Mad Dog65]

Hi Don,

finding your stories and enjoying the eroticism and writing. Thank you.

[Don Jetman]

Thanks very much, Mad Dog65. I still have some oldies to post, and hopefully something new before long.

Don