Her Favorite Holiday

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Blonde

(With continued thanks to my editor “larryinseattle” and to my life partner “Irish_Lass” for her input)

Halloween has never been my favorite holiday. All the fuss about decorating, getting dressed up, and handing out candy to bunch of kids, most of whom didn’t even live in your area of town. Maybe that’s why I volunteered for the air-ambulance flight that night or maybe it was just the excitement of the new job.

The flight to Minneapolis was uneventful but being new to this type of nursing I had no idea just how fast that could change. An ambulance was waiting for us on the tarmac and took my Paramedic counter-part and I to the local hospital. The first surprise of the night came when we were escorted to a waiting room instead of directly to the patient’s room. A representative from the company I now work for was waiting for us and explained that there had been an insurance ‘glitch’ which was going to hold us up until the following morning.

“There is one advantage though,” he chided. “There’s a Halloween Party being held at the hotel I booked you into for its ‘frequent flier’ customers.”

“Arrrgghhhh,” I groaned.

“Ahhhhh, come on, Dan. It can’t be that bad.”

I wanted to tell him how wrong he was but decided just to keep my mouth shut at which point he whisked us off to the hotel. The second surprise of the night came when we arrived at the hotel and were taken to our rooms. Actually they weren’t rooms but suites.

Kevin, the company rep, explained that the company only put their crews up in the very best when they were delayed like we were … and he was right. A king-sized bed dominated the bedroom with a set of huge windows allowing a view of the scenery to the West of the city. The main room included a full-size couch, a fireplace, a wet-bar, a 72-inch flat-screen TV, and a small kitchen, which, not too surprising at this point, was stocked with everything I’d need to get me through until we departed. On the far side of the room was a door which I assumed led to a bathroom. Boy, was I wrong!!!

The room was almost as large as the bedroom and though it had all the things a bathroom would normally have this one had it in deluxe fashion. The tub was big enough for two or maybe three, depending on how friendly you wanted to be, and was also a Jacuzzi. Next to the tub was a huge walk-in shower with a ‘rain shower’ nozzle head on the ceiling and pulsating jets built into the wall. On the other side of the room there was a set of double sinks with a massive mirror mounted behind it, which incidentally, also allowed a view of the tub and shower. It wasn’t until I asked that I was pointed to a second door and told that the toilet was in its own separate area.

After getting the tour, I followed Kevin and the bellman back to the main room, grabbing a beer from the frig on the way, and sat down on the couch to begin scrolling through the local channels for something to watch.

“What cha doin’, Dan? I told you there’s a party downstairs.”

“Yeah. I’m not much into Halloween.”

Kevin stood there silently for a few moments before dropping the bombshell. “Listen, Dan. I know you’re new to the company and all but there are certain expectations from our employees. One of these is to keep up our public image which, in this case, mean going to the party. You don’t have to stay long. Just long enough to get noticed by the hotel manager and thank him for the excellent service they have provided us.”

“Arrgghhhhh,” I groaned again before quickly remembering the most important thing about a Halloween party. “You know, Kev. You’re right. There’s just one problem. I don’t have a costume.”

A frown appeared on his face and I could tell he was trying to think of some way of getting around the problem. I heard him muttering to himself for several minutes before his face suddenly brightened as he snapped his fingers. “I got it!! Wait right here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Before I could say a word he was out the door. Now it was my turn to mumble to myself wondering what had gotten him so excited and dreading his return. For a second, I thought about slipping out to avoid him but I didn’t move fast enough.

“Here,” he said, excitedly, as he re-entered.

“What’s this?” I asked looking at the plastic bag in his hand.

“Your costume.”

I’m sure I must have looked like a total idiot when I looked in the bag and saw roll after roll of gauze bandage. “Wha ..?”

“Time to get you wrapped up … mummy.”

“Arrgghhhhh,” I groaned once again realizing that my last chance of avoiding the party had just evaporated.

Twenty minute later I was in the banquet hall. The party was already in full swing; the music blaring, food on tables everywhere, and enough booze to float a battleship.

Best of all were the woman; tall ones, short ones, skinny ones, round ones, and occasionally ones that took your breath away. You could tell she was one of those the moment she entered the room. Five-foot, seven-inches tall with an added 3 inches from the pendik escort black stiletto high heels, blonde over brunette hair, piercing chocolate-brown eyes that seemed to see everything even from under the mask she wore, and a costume that left little doubt of what she was supposed to be.

She wore a black dress that was so tight is seemed more like a layer of skin. It had a deep, plunging V-neckline that went all the way down to the slender gold belt she wore around her waist and a hemline that barely covered her rounded ass revealing her long shapely legs. As if she needed more, she wore a loose gold necklace that hung between her large breasts and disappeared beneath her belt. She was also wearing black fishnet stockings.

Men – and women – all over the room stopped to stare as this mystery woman crossed the floor. Then, just as suddenly as she’d appeared, she disappeared into the crowd.

For the next two hours, I mingled and flirted, never staying long enough with one person for anything to go further, though a few of the more inebriated women did offer me their phone numbers. It wasn’t until I was standing at the bar getting another drink that I suddenly heard her voice behind me.

“Excuse me,” she purred.

I turned to find the mystery woman standing there, her eyes, even though still covered, were ablaze. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“I hope so,” she said in a low, sultry voice. “I was just kinda wondering if you’d answer something for me.”

“Sure. If I can.”

The aroma of her intoxicating perfume filled my nostrils. There was something vaguely familiar about it but the thought evaporated as she leaned closer. The view of her breasts instantly made my cock harden as she whispered, into my ear. “I was just wondering what a mummy wears under their bandages,” she whispered, softly.

The smell of her and the closeness of her body instantly had me playing along with her game so I replied, just a s quietly. “I don’t know about anyone else but this ‘mummy’ is a daddy and I don’t wear anything under my bandages.”

“Mmmmmmmm. I like the sound of that.”

“Then I have a question for you.”

“Okay,” she replied as she lightly ran her fingertips over the shoulders of my costume.

“How much?”

“How much?” she asked, coyly.

“Yeah, how much does …?”

“Veronica.”

“Okay. How much does ‘Veronica’ charge for her … ummmmmm … services?”

“You a cop?” she asked, continuing to play her role.

“Nope. Just a daddy lookin’ for a good time.”

She hesitated as she stared at me before answering. “Veronica charges $25 for a hand job, $50 for a tit job, $75 for a blow job, and $100 to go all the way.”

The tone in her voice suddenly triggered old memories as I remembered all those years ago. “Could it be? After all these years? I thought she’d moved to the West Coast.” I asked myself while asking her, “And what if I wanted her to stay the night?”

“$500 should cover it.”

“That sounds kinda steep,” I replied, adding a slight slur to my voice to make it sound as if I was more drunk than I actually was.

“You want the best you gotta pay for it,” she answered in a slightly slurred voice.

“And what if I wanted to … say … go all the way but I didn’t want to wait?”

“What do you mean? Right here?”

“I’m sure we can find someplace a bit more private.”

“Ohhhhh … that sounds soooo nasty,” she flirted as she took my hand.

A few moments later, I found myself standing in a darkened office, the mystery woman sitting on the edge of the desk with one leg dangling in front of her.

“Okay, daddy. First things first … the money.”

I quickly peeled a $100 bill from the money clip I was carrying and gave it to her.

Any doubts I may have had disappeared when she peeled back the top of her dress to slip the money into a hidden pocket, while revealing her right tit. There could only be one birthmark like that and I knew who it belonged to.

“Now show me what ya got, daddy,” she whispered as she turned her back to me and raised her dress.

As I’d expected, or at least hoped, she wasn’t wearing panties.

Fortunately, I’d been telling the truth and wasn’t wearing any underwear under the bandages so after a little bit of pushing and shifting, my cock sprang from its confines. I instantly stepped up behind her and pressed my cock against the wet, warm opening of her pussy. Then, after grabbing her hips, I said in my best Bogart impersonation, “Here’s to you, sweetheart,” as I thrust into her.

“Yo …?” she began to ask as she looked over her shoulder only to stop as I drove my cock deep inside her. “Owwwwwww,” she finished, in a sigh. “When? How?”

“Here and now!” I growled.

“Ohmigod … ohmigod … so long. Can’t believe it’s you. Owwwwww … fuck,” she groaned.

“It has been a long time, baby,” I snarled as I pulled back and then slammed into her driving, her against the desk.

“Owwwwwww.”

“So still playing your game, I see.”

“Only maltepe escort once a year. You know that.”

And, indeed, I did know that since the woman I now had my cock buried in was my ex-wife. She had been the Comptroller for a large chain of exclusive hotels in the area where we’d lived. That meant she was the stereotypical, uptight, completely proper, professional woman in every aspect of her life not only in the way she acted but in the way she dressed and talked EXCEPT for one day out of the year … Halloween. For whatever reason, she chose that day to ‘let her hair down’ and enjoy herself.

Maybe it was the fact that she could hide behind a mask but every Halloween during the time we were married she wore less and less. It also meant that she was more turned on that night than any other time of the year which ultimately meant a great time after whatever party we had gone to.

“So when did you start your new profession?” I asked as I continued to slide my cock in and out of her.

“About three hours ago,” she answered, the tone of her voice told me she was getting turned on by what I was doing and the role she’d been playing.

“So you like being a slut?”

“I’m not a slut. You paid for it, remember? That makes me a whore.”

“So, you wanna be treated like a whore then you’re gonna act like a whore,” I snarled as I reached around and grabbed her dress and pulled the straps off her shoulders.

Her tits spilled out of the top, standing out in front. There was no question that they were larger then they had been when we were married but what caught my attention were the the golden loops wrapped around each nipple.

“What’s this?” I asked as I lightly tugged on the loop.

“Something new,” she purred. “One of my friends dared me to try it and … well …”

“I like,” I whispered.

“So do I,” she moaned as she pushed back against my invading cock, “but there’s a lot more to see if you’re interested.”

“Yeah? And how do I get to see that?”

“Let me get undressed.”

“Yeah, right. I let you go and I lose my $100.”

She hesitated before replying. “You won’t. I promise.”

“You promised a lot of things when we were married,” I growled as I held her in place.

“You’re right. I did and to tell you the truth I regret not keeping a lot of them. But just to prove I’m not lying now, here …,” she said as she pulled the money out of its hidden pocket and handed it to me.

“So what’s this supposed to prove?”

“Nothing … and everything,” she murmured as she unbuckled the belt around her waist, letting it fall to the floor before she slowly pulled her dress over her head.

“This could be interesting.”

“More than you know,” she purred, slipping back into her ‘Veronica’ role. “Now look in the window.”

When I looked up I got the surprise of my life. I could see the two of us reflected there. For an instant, I thought about the story of ‘Lady Godiva’ as I saw the way her hair hung down, barely concealing her tits and behind her I could just make out an image that I knew was me.

“Now keep watching,” she whispered.

He placed her hands on the desk and while pushing back against me to keep my cock locked inside her, she slowly stood up.

For the first time in five years I saw the body that I had once known so well. She looked fabulous. Her skin was a golden-brown which made her tan lines all the more visible. Her bust was at least two sizes bigger than I remembered and the small belly roll she’d been developing was gone, replaced by firm, toned stomach. But what caught my attention the most was the body jewelry.

It started with a double-strand of gold chain around her neck almost like a narrow collar. Attached to that was the single strand of heavier gold chain that I’d noticed earlier. But, while it had disappeared beneath her dress before, I could now see that it was attached to another double-strand of gold chain that encircled her hips. Three other chains were also attached to the ‘belly chain’. Two of them went back up her body and were attached to the loops around her nipples while the third hung between her legs and was capped by a large white pearl which was placed so it could rub across her clit.

“Wow!!!”

“So you like it?” she questioned as she tightened the muscles of her pussy.

“Damn right!!”

“Then maybe you’ll like this too,” she said as she leaned over, her nipples rubbing across the blotter on the desk. “Fuck me,” she whispered after slipping back into her ‘Veronica’ persona. “You know what I want … what I need. Fuck me like a whore. Shove your cock in me and fuck me hard.”

Instantly, I tightened my grip on her hips and drove into her. I alternated the tempo and depth repeatedly, sometimes going fast and hard, driving my cock into her until the head crashed against the back of her warm, wet tunnel and my balls swung forward to slap against her clit while other times, I went so slow and shallow that I barely entered her, instead popping kartal escort the head of my cock in and out of her clinging lips. But what seemed to turn her on the most was when I reached around her and tugged on one of her chains.

“Oh god … oh god … oh god … this is exactly what I’ve needed. Mmmmmmmm … yessssss … pull my chain … yank on it … stretch my tits … Owwwwwwwww … so wicked … so nasty … so gooodddddd,” she mumbled.

All too quickly, I felt the muscles of her pussy tighten and I knew what was about to happen.

“Owwwwww … getting close, baby. Gonna cum. Gonna coat your cock with my juices.”

“Not this time,” I sneered as I raised my hand and brought it down with a responding ‘SMACK’ on the round globe of her ass.

“AAIIEEEEEEEEE,” she wailed yet she didn’t try to pull away. “Do it!!! Treat me like a fucking whore. Your whore.”

“You asked for it,” I replied as I raised my hand once again and brought it down, this time on the opposite ass cheek.

“Owwwwwww … can’t believe this. It hurts to good. Again … spank me again. Make me pay for all the things I did to you while we were married.”

‘SMACK … SMACK … SMACK … SMACK.’ The sound vibrated off the office walls as I took out all the anger and frustration I’d felt over the years for the way she had treated me.

“Yesssssss … yessssss … yesssss,” she hissed.

And each time my hand crashed against the soft, rounded globes of her ass, I felt her pussy muscles tighten around my cock.

“Harder … yeah … yeah … like that … owwwwwww … spank my ass … pull on my tits … yesssssss … fuck me … fuck my pussy.”

“Fuck your what?” I growled, knowing how hard it was for her to say certain words.

“My pussy.”

‘SMACK … SMACK … SMACK,’ my hand slapped against her deeply-reddened ass. “What am I fucking, whore?”

“My pus …”

‘SMACK’ “What am I fucking?”

“My … my … my cunt. You’re fucking my cunt.”

“That’s better,” I moaned as I felt the beginnings of my own orgasm building. “Now, whore, where do you want me to cum? On your face or your tits?”

She hesitated before whispering, “In me.”

“What? Whores don’t normally let their ‘johns’ cum in them.”

“That might be true … but ex-wives do,” she purred as she turned her head and looked over her shoulder at me. “Or to be more precise, THIS ex-wife does. Cum in me. Fill my pussy with your cum. I wanna feel it dripping from me like I used to. I … I’ve missed that … a lot.”

“So I’m not fucking ‘Veronica’ anymore?”

“No … you’re fucking your ex-wife.”

“I’m glad,” I whispered, tenderly.

“Me too,” she replied, not noticing as I reached under her and grabbed the chains leading to her nipples until it was too late.

I tugged on both of them at the same time and felt her body stiffen. Her back arched and a low, primal moan escaped her pursed lips as her pussy tightened even more around my cock.

“Cummmmmming,” she moaned as her body shook and quivered beneath me.

The sound of her voice and the feel of her pulsating pussy broke through the last walls of my own resistance and I felt my own orgasm flow over me like a crashing wave.

“Argh … argh … argh,” I grunted each time the head of my cock pressed against the back wall of her pussy, sending strand after strand of my cum into her.

How long we stood like that, my cock pumping cum into her while the muscles of her pussy milked me, I have no idea. All I knew was it was over far too soon.

“Wow,” I muttered, as I lay against her back.

“I’ll say,” she replied. “I remember we were good together but I don’t remember us ever being THIS good.”

“Me either,” I mumbled as I felt my dwindling cock slide from the warm, wet confines of her pussy.

“Damn, I hate that,” she laughed, as she stood up and walked to the couch and took a seat.

I followed and sat down next to her and was surprised when she cuddled under my arm.

“So what do we do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we can call this a one-time fling or … if you’re interested we can see where this goes.”

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. “But I always thought your job came first. That’s why we ended up getting divorced.”

“I know. And I also know within a couple of weeks that I’d made a mistake. We had our problems but most of them were because of me. I just couldn’t seem to let things go even at home. You remember … work, work, work.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, that all changed over time. Now, I still spend a lot of time here but I also spend a lot of my time doing other things.”

“Glad to hear it,” not really sure what to say or where the conversation was going.

“By the way, what did you think of my Halloween costume?”

“The dress? It was great.”

She laughed, softly. “The dress wasn’t my costume. It’s just something I had to wear so I wouldn’t get arrested. THIS is my costume,” she said as she ran her hand over the body jewelry.

“That was definitely GREAT. But now I have a couple of questions for you and you can tell me it’s none of my business if you want.”

“Okay.”

“When did all this happen?” I asked, indicating her body.

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