Nicholas at camp
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St. Nicholas Day: Two Perspectives free porn video
St. Nicholas Day; Two Perspectives©
By odlum
He knew it was going to be a better day as he glanced up from the pillow. Her form was outlined in the gray light of the bedroom window. As she approached the bed, her breasts swung rhythmically with each step. Her raw sexuality stirred him. She smiled and crawled onto the bed and nestled into his arms. He savoured her heat and remembered how he felt just twelve short hours ago. But that was before he met Maggie and discovered the joys of St. Nicholas Day.
The car bucked violently as it passed over the speed bump. Cursing under his breath, he turned the steering wheel back and forth as he negotiated around the potholes of the motel’s back parking lot. Turning the corner, he saw his room. The day had been awful and at this point, he was certain it was going to get worse. He had just lost a major account, the storm to the north had closed the highways, and now the motel had put him in a room with a view of the mall and its parking lot. "Son of a bitch" he mumbled. It was 6:30. He was tired, depressed, and hungry. The first fat, wet, snowflakes had just begun to fall. With a deep sigh, he realized that he would just have to make the best of it.
Don Smith parked the car in front of Room 169, reached across the front seat, grabbed his briefcase, and slowly eased his way out of the car. It was cold and damp. The gusts of wind tugged at the lapels of his open coat. Fumbling with his key fob, he managed to pop the trunk and simultaneously set off the panic alarm. Don hated these new electronic key fobs. Grabbing everything from the trunk, he walked awkwardly towards the room, desperately trying not to drop anything. Finally, he got to the motel room door. Clumsily he reached for the plastic door key, held between his teeth. It slipped from his fingers. Bending over to pick it up, his briefcase, pinched under his left elbow, fell to the ground, and popped open. He swore.
"You look like you're having a hard day, sweetie," came a husky female voice to his right. Maggie stood in the shelter of the alcove of her kitchenette suite. She didn't like to smoke in her room. Besides, she was trying to quit and going out into the cold December air slightly reduced her desire for tobacco.
She had seen him pull up and stifled a laugh as he floundered trying to handle all his belongings and open the door. She laughed silently as she watched him struggle with the briefcase. "Here, let me help you," Maggie said. She flicked her cigarette into a nearby puddle. The plastic key door fluttered towards her feet, propelled by a gust of wind. She quickly picked up the card and stepped towards the door.
Don looked up. "Thanks, I could use an extra hand," he replied with a laugh and moved aside. Maggie deftly swiped the lock, picked up his briefcase, and held the door open for the overburdened man. He entered and dropped everything on the bed and turned to face her.
Maggie flicked on the lights. She had a pleasant face, and her broad smile captured his gaze, yet there was something about her brown eyes. He stared. Her voice broke through his silent gape. "Where would you like this, honey?" she asked holding out the briefcase.
"Oh, sorry. Just put on the desk beside you, thanks."
"Would you like a strong coffee to help you unwind from your difficulties and welcome you to this fine establishment?" she asked with more than a trace of sarcasm. The offer clearly took him by surprise. Maggie chuckled to herself as he stuttered his positive reply. "Be back in a minute," she said as turned back into the parking lot, closing the door behind her.
Don stared at the door. He didn't really know what to make of her. She intrigued him. Her smile temporarily made him forget the troubles of the day. Yet her eyes, it was something about her eyes. He quickly hung up his coat and stowed his belongings as neatly as he could. For some unknown reason, he had the compulsion to clean up. Don grabbed his shaving kit, a fresh shirt and underwear, from his overnight bag and headed towards the bathroom.
Maggie sensed an opportunity. She threw her coat over the kitchen chair and prepared the two-cup coffee maker. On the way to the bathroom, she grabbed her favourite top and a pair of lace panties. Maggie stood naked before the mirror. She had showered just an hour earlier. Now she quickly refreshed herself with a moist towelette, splashed on a bit of perfume, applied new lipstick and gloss, and ran her fingers through her hair. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. Not bad for a 40 plus year old broad, she thought to herself. Then Maggie quickly slipped back into her clothes. Before leaving the bathroom, she checked that all dirty laundry was in the hamper, the sink area was neat and tidy, and fresh towels were out. The entire process had taken less than ten minutes. Quick changes were an important part of her business. With a final glance in the mirror, she headed to the kitchen.
Coffee was steaming in the mugs. She poured a healthy dollop from the nearby bottle into each and reached for the fridge door. From the egg rack, Maggie pulled out two small, pre-tied, garlands of mistletoe and attached them to the handles of the coffee mugs. As she put on her coat, Maggie turned off her answering machine, shoved her cell phone into a coat pocket, and unlocked her side of the inter-suite passage door.
Don had quickly refreshed himself with a spit wash of all his important parts, a cursory run of his electric razor, and a transient visit with his toothbrush. Standing before the mirror he straightened his shirt and palmed his thinning hair in place. Strangely there was a twinge of excitement running through his body. He balled up his dirty laundry and opened the bathroom door.
To his surprise, she was sitting at the motel room table with two steaming mugs of coffee in front of her. Sensing his surprise, Maggie softly confessed. "I knocked, but when there was no answer, I used the key. I still had it in my pocket." She smiled and pointed to it on the table. Maggie sat up a little straighter in the chair and pushed her shoulders back. "I didn't think you would mind," she said coyly and noticed the flush on his cheeks, as he hurriedly stuffed the clothes in his hand into the nearby dresser drawer. His awkward innocence pleased her.
"No, no, you just startled me, that's all." Don stepped forward and reached for the coffee mug, which she pushed towards him. He looked at the handle quizzically.
"Mistletoe," came the explanation. "It's a symbol of good fortune and protection. Besides, it's December 5th."
Don looked puzzled but replied with a laugh, "I need all the good fortune I can get after today," Sitting on the edge of the bed he sipped his coffee, recognized the extra additive, and remarked that the schnapps added the mellowing he needed. He inquired about the significance of December 5th. Don learned she was of German descent and that this was the Eve of St Nicholas. Don found the conversation with this woman easy. Between sips of coffee, he studied her.
She was a good-looking woman with shoulder-length brunette hair. She wore a V-neck, rose-coloured yoga top. The colour flattered her complexion, and the tight material emphasized her figure. Don enjoyed the fact that he could just make out the faint outlines of her nipples through the material. His erotic interest stirred.
Maggie sipped her coffee, listened intently for conversation clues, and carefully studied the man sitting opposite her. He was in his late fifties or early sixties and in good shape. The way he held his coffee mug and the softness of his voices indicated that he was a gentle but slightly troubled man. He was worried about something but still enjoyed looking at her body, especially her breasts. As she took her last sip of coffee, a twinge of mischievous excitement crept through her and Maggie felt her nipples harden just a little. She straightened her back and thrust out her breasts. Glancing over the edge of her coffee cup, she saw her movements had had the desired effect.
Don had shifted his position on the bed and crossed his legs. "Uhhh... my coffee is finished and I'm hungry, would you like to join me for dinner?" he asked cautiously. "Consider it an offer of repayment for the warm welcome and superb coffee."
"That sounds good to me," she purred. "I'm starved. There's an excellent little pub..."
"...Just across the way," Don completed her sentence. They both laughed and stood up. As she took the coffee mug from his hand, Maggie made sure her breasts brushed against his arm. She remained close to him when he helped her on with her coat. Maggie's fingers lingered over his after she handed him the door key. It had been a slow week. Maggie needed the company.
The snow was beginning to fall as the couple crossed the low grass knoll that separated the motel from the mall parking lot across the way. As they walked, Don enjoyed her presence. She was a comfort against the coming winter storm and the disappointment of losing a major client. As he reached out to put his arm around her shoulder, Don realized he didn't even know her name. He stopped abruptly.
"Is there something wrong?" she inquired.
"Well yes," he squirmed with embarrassment. " I'm about to have dinner with a beautiful and charming companion and I have not even introduced myself." Maggie smiled at his awkwardness. He was cute, naïve, and obviously more of a gentleman than the regulars she met. "I'm Don Smith..."
"...And I'm Maggie Schmitt, with two t's." They giggled like school k**s about having similar names. During their conversation, the snowfall had increased. Maggie grabbed his arm and huddled against his shoulder as they resumed their walk towards the pub at a quickened pace.
The owner showed surprise when they entered together. He seated them at a corner table by the gas fireplace. He recommended the schnitzel special and brought pints of a German Pilsner. The couple lingered over dinner, a shared strudel dessert, and several more beers.
Their glasses were empty, and the table had been cleared. It was obviously time to leave. However, Don did not want the evening to end. He gently stroked her hand, but he did not know what to say. Maggie sensed the moment. She slipped her right foot from its shoe and began to run her toes over his calf. Bending forward, she allowed her top to reveal even more of her cleavage. Maggie squeezed his hand and looked directly into his eyes. "I've had a wonderful time. I have really enjoyed being with you and want to spend more time with you." She paused. "I'm a professional..." The rest of her words swam in his head. Don liked this woman. He wanted to see more of her. Quickly he devised a plan.
A small adjustment to the bill and his expense account would reflect a dinner for six to regain a client. The cash in his hand would cover the additional expenses of the evening. They left with a bottle of schnapps. As they passed through the vestibule and out into the storm, Don slipped his hand into Maggie's coat pocket then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, providing comfort against the blowing snow. Maggie pulled her coat collar up around her neck, then slid her hand into her coat pocket, and confirmed the deposit.
It was snowing heavily now. The accumulation on the ground was over Don's shoes and his feet were getting wet and cold. However, the chill of the evening went deeper. As the door to his motel room came closer, he wondered what he had gotten himself into. He had never done anything like this before. Could he perform?
The warmth and shelter of the room welcomed them. Clumps of snow littered the entrance floor, as Don shook out the coats. He hung them up, placed their shoes by the heater, and got some towels to dry off their faces and hair. Maggie sat on the bed and drying her hair, while Don quickly mopped his face and head and then knelt on the floor beside her.
"Your socks must be soaked; may I remove them?" asked Don. A smile granted permission and soon Maggie was enjoying the warmth of the towel and Don's hands on her feet and ankles. The sensations felt good. Maggie moaned as his hands and finger alternated between her toes, heels, and lower calves.
"My pants are wet too, perhaps we should take those off too," Maggie demurely suggested and immediately leaned back of the bed, undid her jeans, and pushed them down over her hips. Don grabbed the wet hems and pulled. The wet pants were tossed onto a chair. Don wanted to arrange them neatly to dry, but he was stopped as Maggie's legs coiled around his shoulders and drew him to her. The kiss was gentle but smouldering.
Maggie enjoyed the soft probing of Don's tongue and the gentle touches of his hands on her shoulders, arms, and neck. This was the kind of work she enjoyed. She moaned her encouragement. Soon Don lay on the bed beside her dressed only in his briefs.
Maggie's top had bunched up beneath her breasts. Don enjoyed the view of her semi-nudity. The erotic sight of her bare skin excited him. Don softly stroked her thighs, stomach, and the exposed cleavage of her breasts. She was good looking in the girl next door fashion. He enjoyed the shape of her breasts and the shape of her mound as it pushed against the thin material of her panties. Her subtle encouraging words about rewards for good little boys and girls on St. Nicholas Day were lost in his timidity. He was no virgin, but he had not been in this carnal position for much longer than he cared to remember.
He tentatively kissed her. Maggie aggressively returned the kiss thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. Don found his hand moving over her panties and exploring the warm moist area between her thighs. Maggie spread her legs and forcibly guided Don's head down over her chest, while she freed her breasts from her yoga top.
Maggie was enthralled by his response. Don sucked greedily at her nipples. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her panties and explored the lips of her warm moist slit. They soon penetrated her pussy and began to massage her almond of love. Electric bolts of passion charged through her body. She stiffened and writhed. A gasping groan of ecstasy slipped from her lips. She convulsed and covered Don's fingers with spurts of her hot essence.
Don laid his head on her stomach and listened intently to the storm outside and her breathing, and then he asked. "Is that the kind of present St. Nicholas would bring good little boys and girls?"
"Oh yes!" came the reply between frantic gasps. "...And just wait until we start to share the Christmas Pickle," she said with a broken laugh.
Moments later Don found himself naked on the bed with Maggie kneeling over him. She was trailing her breasts over his face and chest. Each time her nipples passed near enough he tried to grab them with his lips. Maggie enjoyed the game. She really took pleasure in the feeling his lips and teeth generated on her now long, hard nubs as she pulled them out of his grasp. "Is this the pickle game," he inquired?
"No, no," came the reply. "The pickle I play with is down here," she giggled. Maggie turned and rested on her side. She now looked down on his semi-erect penis. A nice normal sized, un-circumcised cock she observed. "I bet I can have fun with that," she mused and rubbed it softly from head to root. His cock twitched and Don let out a slight gasp. Maggie continued her teasing touches interspersed with bouts of blowing over his cock and balls.
Don could feel his excitement rising. He did not want to climax too soon, so he asked a diversionary question. "How does this fit into St. Nicholas Day and pickles? St. Nick wasn't a pervert, was he?"
"No, no he was a true saint," Maggie explained as she continued to slowly rub and squeeze his balls and cock. "One snowy winter night, two young brothers were returning from boarding school for the winter holidays. The storm drove them to take refuge in an inn. The innkeeper was a treacherous and dishonest person. He stole their money and sealed them in a pickle barrel. However, before he could place the barrel out in his cold storage shed, so they would freeze to death, St. Nicholas entered the pub. He too sought refuge from the storm. He heard the boys' cries and saved them. That's why Germans always celebrate St. Nicholas Day with schnitzel and pickles and always have green, pickle shaped glass ornaments on their Christmas trees."
"Sounds a little far..."
Maggie interrupted him by turning her body over onto his. Don was presented with a beautiful view of her spread ass and creamy slit. "...No pickle was served with my schnitzel tonight so I'm going make up for that now!" she exclaimed. Before Don realized it, Maggie's hot mouth was over his cock and she was sucking hard. Her pubic hair was pushed over his mouth. Her sweet musky smell, delightful taste, and the incredible sensations generated by her mouth combined to drive Don to a new threshold of excitement, which he had never experienced before. He tried to return her favours by sucking and licking her clit and thrusting his tongue as deep into her sweet tasting pussy as he could. The result was an incredible mutual orgasm, which left both participants drained, sweaty, and exhausted.
Don awoke cold and shivering to the piercing beam of an LED flashlight in his eyes. "What the...?" he stammered.
"Sorry, Luv didn't mean to wake you. Just gathering up my clothes." She moved quickly around the room. "The storm has knocked out the power and it's fucking cold in here. Look, there's even snow on the floor!" Maggie shone the flashlight to the base of his motel room door, where a half-moon of snow spread out from the threshold. "Come on let us get warm." Don's eyes followed the light beam to the passageway door. Maggie's hunched figure fumbled with the lock opened the door, and then went through. "Come on you silly bastard, you'll freeze your balls off if you stay there," came a shout from beyond the door. Don paused for a moment, not sure what to do. "If you're not coming, at least shut the fucking door, before you let all the cold air in," came the shout from the other room.
Don moved quickly toward the flickering light. As he stepped through the passageway he was greeted by warmth. He quickly closed the door behind him. Maggie had placed the flashlight on the kitchen table with its beam pointed to the ceiling. She stood before a small gas stove. The four elements burned with little blue flames. In the eerie light of the flashlight and the stove, the silhouette of Maggie's body looked inviting. Don stepped forward and sought her warmth. They hugged. "A cozy place in the cold," he mused and felt his cock begin to harden against her stomach.
Maggie guilelessly undulated her belly against his growing stiffness and offered an explanation. "This used to be the old manager's suite. When they renovated the motel, they left these rooms as is, including the gas stove and water heater and the old wall mounted gas furnace. It even works when the power is off. So, would you like to stay and keep warm or would you..." Don did not let her finish. He covered her mouth with his and drew her even closer to him.
Maggie broke the kiss and patted him on the cheek. She gently, but firmly pushed him back and cooed, " While I'm finding and lighting some candles, how about you, being a brave upstanding lad, return to that frigid room of yours and retrieve that bottle of schnapps."
When Don returned, he followed the candlelight into the bedroom. Maggie sat in the bed; her legs crossed under the covers as she leaned against the plumped-up pillows. She pointed to the glasses on the bed table. He dutifully followed her silent instructions, while furtively glancing at her naked breasts and hard nipples.
She held her glass in both hands, drew it to her mouth, and slowly sipped. Don downed his shot with a single gulp, quickly returned the glass to the table, and continued to study her naked torso bathed in the flickering light of the candles. Fascinated, he studied her. The dim yellow light softened the angular features of her face. Her age lines disappeared. Maggie's breast rose and fell gently with each breath. Her large nipples seemed to harden and protrude even more under his gaze. Maggie took another sip from her glass. Don reached forward and hesitantly removed it from her hands, placed it on the table, and then bent forward and kissed her lips. Their tongues met and shared the taste of the schnapps.
The lovemaking that followed was gentle but intensely passionate. For Don, it was a series of tender hot touches leading to the incredible spectacle of Maggie applying a condom to his cock with her mouth and the hot, unbelievable, sensation of Maggie's pussy milking him to climax. For Maggie, it was business mixed with pleasure: an extraordinary and mind-blowing pleasure.
The sound of Maggie's cell phone woke them both. She pulled the phone from the bed table drawer. Got up and padded towards the window. She pulled back the d****s. Through the dim grey light, she could see the thick drifted snow. Heavy flakes were still falling, and it was obvious that the power was still out. She looked at the phone screen and muttered out loud, "Fuck you, asshole, I'm not going anywhere on a day like this!" She turned the phone off, snapped it shut, and tossed it on the easy chair by the window. He watched her walk back towards the bed. Her breasts swung rhythmically with each step. Maggie's neatly trimmed pubic hair drew attention to her pouting pussy lips. Her raw sensuality stirred him. This was going to be a much better day than yesterday Don thought. Maggie noticed his focused gaze, smiled, and crawled onto the bed. She snuggled into his arms.
"The snow is knee-deep out there and the power is still out," she asserted. "So how would you like to spend St. Nicholas Day with me?" she coyly asked as she nuzzled his neck and began to slowly fondle his cock.
“Mmmm, hard decision," he whispered in reply and turned his head to meet her lips.
"Well, it would be 200 bucks?" The cold words stuck in her throat. Was she asking too much? Maggie squeezed his cock and stuck her tongue in his ear. Her anxiety subsided a little when she heard him emit a muted growl.
"How about fifty upfront and an I Owe You until I can get to the ATM in the pub?" came the breathless reply.
"I think I could live with that," Maggie replied with a hidden satisfied smile. "Seal the promise with a kiss?"
They made love. For Don, it was another series of shared hot, wet convulsions. He was delighted by the way she responded to his touch and how her mouth made him feel. For Maggie, the promise ensured that she could cover the week's expenses despite the storm. Without that worry, she allowed herself to enjoy the passion of the moment.
In the moderate warmth of Maggie's suite, they showered and enjoyed a breakfast of cheese and crackers, oranges, and coffee. They had not bothered to dress. Maggie knew the sight of her nakedness would keep him interested. It was clear Don enjoyed her nakedness. As he cleaned up the dishes, Maggie retrieved her coat from the pile of clothes she had left on the chair by the passageway door and hung it up. She squirrelled away the roll of bills from the night before and the money from this morning in the locking tin in the top drawer of the dresser in her bedroom and stuffed the rest of her clothes from the night in the laundry basket in the bathroom. Returning to the kitchen, Maggie saw that Don had prepared two mugs of fresh coffee. She went to the fridge, grabbed a sprig of mistletoe, held it over her head, and in a husky voice commanded, "Follow me."
Don grabbed the coffee mugs and followed her lead. He marvelled at her form. She did not have the body of a model, but her firm roundness excited him. He enjoyed the sensual shape of her buttocks. Maggie sensed his stare. When she reached the bed, she crawled over the dishevelled sheets, crouched down, and thrust her bum high into the air. Don stopped short and quickly placed the mugs on the table.
Maggie added to the sensuality of the situation by slowly reaching through her spread legs and leisurely running a finger down her crack and over her already wet pussy. Don's heart hammered with excitement. He bent forward rubbed her buttocks with his hands and greedily began to kiss and lick her ass and slit.
"Oh yes...yes...that's it," Maggie moaned between gasps as the fingers of one of Don's hands deftly tantalized her anal rosebud, while the fingers of his other hand moved back and forth inside her and massaged her G-spot. "Don't stop baby...that's it...OH FUCK!" she screamed, convulsed, and gushed over his rapidly working fingers.
Maggie languidly stretched out on the bed and tried to regain her composure. She felt Don's hands gently kneading her back and buttocks. "Oh this is a wonderful way to make a living," she said to herself and reached for the mistletoe on the pillow in front of her.
The noisy rattle of the furnace blower woke Maggie from her sleep. Power had been restored. She found herself sprawled across the bed with her hand just touching the mistletoe. Her body was partially covered by the bedding and by Don. Normally she would have felt smothered by such close and sustained contact with a client, but somehow Don was different. She looked towards the window. The storm had subsided. Now only small flakes fell from the light grey clouds.
Don stirred. He sensed that Maggie was awake, but he did not move, instead, he listened to her quiet breathing and luxuriated in the sensual warmth of her body against his. Through the window, he could see that the snow was still falling and enjoyed the knowledge that he was going nowhere until the motel driveway was plowed and the surrounding roads were cleared. He saw the flashing neon ATM sign in the pub window across the mall parking lot. He knew that a cursory email and his expense account credit card would cover any IOU's he would need to continue his dalliance with Maggie. He cuddled closer. She purred.
Maggie enjoyed his closeness. For her, the most enjoyable part of their lovemaking had not been his desire to please or the way he responded to her touches and urgings, but the conversation they shared. She felt safe with him. The worry about meeting weekly expenses had subsided with the receipt of a cleverly handwritten IOU. Her only worry now was would her limited supply of frozen dinners and canned soup last until they were freed from the grip of the storm?
Maggie moved. Then roused herself from the bed and walked towards the kitchen. She needed her coffee. A few moments later she returned with two mugs of steaming coffee. Don raised his head from the pillow and propped himself up on his elbow. Her form was outlined in the gray light from the bedroom window. As she approached the bed, her breasts swung rhythmically with each step. She placed the mugs on the nightstand and stood before him, twilling a small piece of Mistletoe in her fingers.
He reached up and gently touched her chin and looked into sparkling brown eyes. They kissed, softly at first and then with obsessed fervour. His hand joined hers around the mistletoe. "Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe," he whispered. She gave him a quizzical look. "A line from Shakespeare," he answered. "In this case, used completely out of context. Mistletoe, like everything else, can represent two things. It can stand for death and decay or safety, love, and fertility. I like the second meaning better, don't you?" Maggie clutched the mistletoe and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him intently. "How long does the St. Nicholas celebration last?" he whispered, as he nuzzled and kissed her neck and nibbled at her ear.
"For you, until the storm ends or even longer if you like?" came the reply.
By odlum
He knew it was going to be a better day as he glanced up from the pillow. Her form was outlined in the gray light of the bedroom window. As she approached the bed, her breasts swung rhythmically with each step. Her raw sexuality stirred him. She smiled and crawled onto the bed and nestled into his arms. He savoured her heat and remembered how he felt just twelve short hours ago. But that was before he met Maggie and discovered the joys of St. Nicholas Day.
The car bucked violently as it passed over the speed bump. Cursing under his breath, he turned the steering wheel back and forth as he negotiated around the potholes of the motel’s back parking lot. Turning the corner, he saw his room. The day had been awful and at this point, he was certain it was going to get worse. He had just lost a major account, the storm to the north had closed the highways, and now the motel had put him in a room with a view of the mall and its parking lot. "Son of a bitch" he mumbled. It was 6:30. He was tired, depressed, and hungry. The first fat, wet, snowflakes had just begun to fall. With a deep sigh, he realized that he would just have to make the best of it.
Don Smith parked the car in front of Room 169, reached across the front seat, grabbed his briefcase, and slowly eased his way out of the car. It was cold and damp. The gusts of wind tugged at the lapels of his open coat. Fumbling with his key fob, he managed to pop the trunk and simultaneously set off the panic alarm. Don hated these new electronic key fobs. Grabbing everything from the trunk, he walked awkwardly towards the room, desperately trying not to drop anything. Finally, he got to the motel room door. Clumsily he reached for the plastic door key, held between his teeth. It slipped from his fingers. Bending over to pick it up, his briefcase, pinched under his left elbow, fell to the ground, and popped open. He swore.
"You look like you're having a hard day, sweetie," came a husky female voice to his right. Maggie stood in the shelter of the alcove of her kitchenette suite. She didn't like to smoke in her room. Besides, she was trying to quit and going out into the cold December air slightly reduced her desire for tobacco.
She had seen him pull up and stifled a laugh as he floundered trying to handle all his belongings and open the door. She laughed silently as she watched him struggle with the briefcase. "Here, let me help you," Maggie said. She flicked her cigarette into a nearby puddle. The plastic key door fluttered towards her feet, propelled by a gust of wind. She quickly picked up the card and stepped towards the door.
Don looked up. "Thanks, I could use an extra hand," he replied with a laugh and moved aside. Maggie deftly swiped the lock, picked up his briefcase, and held the door open for the overburdened man. He entered and dropped everything on the bed and turned to face her.
Maggie flicked on the lights. She had a pleasant face, and her broad smile captured his gaze, yet there was something about her brown eyes. He stared. Her voice broke through his silent gape. "Where would you like this, honey?" she asked holding out the briefcase.
"Oh, sorry. Just put on the desk beside you, thanks."
"Would you like a strong coffee to help you unwind from your difficulties and welcome you to this fine establishment?" she asked with more than a trace of sarcasm. The offer clearly took him by surprise. Maggie chuckled to herself as he stuttered his positive reply. "Be back in a minute," she said as turned back into the parking lot, closing the door behind her.
Don stared at the door. He didn't really know what to make of her. She intrigued him. Her smile temporarily made him forget the troubles of the day. Yet her eyes, it was something about her eyes. He quickly hung up his coat and stowed his belongings as neatly as he could. For some unknown reason, he had the compulsion to clean up. Don grabbed his shaving kit, a fresh shirt and underwear, from his overnight bag and headed towards the bathroom.
Maggie sensed an opportunity. She threw her coat over the kitchen chair and prepared the two-cup coffee maker. On the way to the bathroom, she grabbed her favourite top and a pair of lace panties. Maggie stood naked before the mirror. She had showered just an hour earlier. Now she quickly refreshed herself with a moist towelette, splashed on a bit of perfume, applied new lipstick and gloss, and ran her fingers through her hair. She stepped back to admire her handiwork. Not bad for a 40 plus year old broad, she thought to herself. Then Maggie quickly slipped back into her clothes. Before leaving the bathroom, she checked that all dirty laundry was in the hamper, the sink area was neat and tidy, and fresh towels were out. The entire process had taken less than ten minutes. Quick changes were an important part of her business. With a final glance in the mirror, she headed to the kitchen.
Coffee was steaming in the mugs. She poured a healthy dollop from the nearby bottle into each and reached for the fridge door. From the egg rack, Maggie pulled out two small, pre-tied, garlands of mistletoe and attached them to the handles of the coffee mugs. As she put on her coat, Maggie turned off her answering machine, shoved her cell phone into a coat pocket, and unlocked her side of the inter-suite passage door.
Don had quickly refreshed himself with a spit wash of all his important parts, a cursory run of his electric razor, and a transient visit with his toothbrush. Standing before the mirror he straightened his shirt and palmed his thinning hair in place. Strangely there was a twinge of excitement running through his body. He balled up his dirty laundry and opened the bathroom door.
To his surprise, she was sitting at the motel room table with two steaming mugs of coffee in front of her. Sensing his surprise, Maggie softly confessed. "I knocked, but when there was no answer, I used the key. I still had it in my pocket." She smiled and pointed to it on the table. Maggie sat up a little straighter in the chair and pushed her shoulders back. "I didn't think you would mind," she said coyly and noticed the flush on his cheeks, as he hurriedly stuffed the clothes in his hand into the nearby dresser drawer. His awkward innocence pleased her.
"No, no, you just startled me, that's all." Don stepped forward and reached for the coffee mug, which she pushed towards him. He looked at the handle quizzically.
"Mistletoe," came the explanation. "It's a symbol of good fortune and protection. Besides, it's December 5th."
Don looked puzzled but replied with a laugh, "I need all the good fortune I can get after today," Sitting on the edge of the bed he sipped his coffee, recognized the extra additive, and remarked that the schnapps added the mellowing he needed. He inquired about the significance of December 5th. Don learned she was of German descent and that this was the Eve of St Nicholas. Don found the conversation with this woman easy. Between sips of coffee, he studied her.
She was a good-looking woman with shoulder-length brunette hair. She wore a V-neck, rose-coloured yoga top. The colour flattered her complexion, and the tight material emphasized her figure. Don enjoyed the fact that he could just make out the faint outlines of her nipples through the material. His erotic interest stirred.
Maggie sipped her coffee, listened intently for conversation clues, and carefully studied the man sitting opposite her. He was in his late fifties or early sixties and in good shape. The way he held his coffee mug and the softness of his voices indicated that he was a gentle but slightly troubled man. He was worried about something but still enjoyed looking at her body, especially her breasts. As she took her last sip of coffee, a twinge of mischievous excitement crept through her and Maggie felt her nipples harden just a little. She straightened her back and thrust out her breasts. Glancing over the edge of her coffee cup, she saw her movements had had the desired effect.
Don had shifted his position on the bed and crossed his legs. "Uhhh... my coffee is finished and I'm hungry, would you like to join me for dinner?" he asked cautiously. "Consider it an offer of repayment for the warm welcome and superb coffee."
"That sounds good to me," she purred. "I'm starved. There's an excellent little pub..."
"...Just across the way," Don completed her sentence. They both laughed and stood up. As she took the coffee mug from his hand, Maggie made sure her breasts brushed against his arm. She remained close to him when he helped her on with her coat. Maggie's fingers lingered over his after she handed him the door key. It had been a slow week. Maggie needed the company.
The snow was beginning to fall as the couple crossed the low grass knoll that separated the motel from the mall parking lot across the way. As they walked, Don enjoyed her presence. She was a comfort against the coming winter storm and the disappointment of losing a major client. As he reached out to put his arm around her shoulder, Don realized he didn't even know her name. He stopped abruptly.
"Is there something wrong?" she inquired.
"Well yes," he squirmed with embarrassment. " I'm about to have dinner with a beautiful and charming companion and I have not even introduced myself." Maggie smiled at his awkwardness. He was cute, naïve, and obviously more of a gentleman than the regulars she met. "I'm Don Smith..."
"...And I'm Maggie Schmitt, with two t's." They giggled like school k**s about having similar names. During their conversation, the snowfall had increased. Maggie grabbed his arm and huddled against his shoulder as they resumed their walk towards the pub at a quickened pace.
The owner showed surprise when they entered together. He seated them at a corner table by the gas fireplace. He recommended the schnitzel special and brought pints of a German Pilsner. The couple lingered over dinner, a shared strudel dessert, and several more beers.
Their glasses were empty, and the table had been cleared. It was obviously time to leave. However, Don did not want the evening to end. He gently stroked her hand, but he did not know what to say. Maggie sensed the moment. She slipped her right foot from its shoe and began to run her toes over his calf. Bending forward, she allowed her top to reveal even more of her cleavage. Maggie squeezed his hand and looked directly into his eyes. "I've had a wonderful time. I have really enjoyed being with you and want to spend more time with you." She paused. "I'm a professional..." The rest of her words swam in his head. Don liked this woman. He wanted to see more of her. Quickly he devised a plan.
A small adjustment to the bill and his expense account would reflect a dinner for six to regain a client. The cash in his hand would cover the additional expenses of the evening. They left with a bottle of schnapps. As they passed through the vestibule and out into the storm, Don slipped his hand into Maggie's coat pocket then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, providing comfort against the blowing snow. Maggie pulled her coat collar up around her neck, then slid her hand into her coat pocket, and confirmed the deposit.
It was snowing heavily now. The accumulation on the ground was over Don's shoes and his feet were getting wet and cold. However, the chill of the evening went deeper. As the door to his motel room came closer, he wondered what he had gotten himself into. He had never done anything like this before. Could he perform?
The warmth and shelter of the room welcomed them. Clumps of snow littered the entrance floor, as Don shook out the coats. He hung them up, placed their shoes by the heater, and got some towels to dry off their faces and hair. Maggie sat on the bed and drying her hair, while Don quickly mopped his face and head and then knelt on the floor beside her.
"Your socks must be soaked; may I remove them?" asked Don. A smile granted permission and soon Maggie was enjoying the warmth of the towel and Don's hands on her feet and ankles. The sensations felt good. Maggie moaned as his hands and finger alternated between her toes, heels, and lower calves.
"My pants are wet too, perhaps we should take those off too," Maggie demurely suggested and immediately leaned back of the bed, undid her jeans, and pushed them down over her hips. Don grabbed the wet hems and pulled. The wet pants were tossed onto a chair. Don wanted to arrange them neatly to dry, but he was stopped as Maggie's legs coiled around his shoulders and drew him to her. The kiss was gentle but smouldering.
Maggie enjoyed the soft probing of Don's tongue and the gentle touches of his hands on her shoulders, arms, and neck. This was the kind of work she enjoyed. She moaned her encouragement. Soon Don lay on the bed beside her dressed only in his briefs.
Maggie's top had bunched up beneath her breasts. Don enjoyed the view of her semi-nudity. The erotic sight of her bare skin excited him. Don softly stroked her thighs, stomach, and the exposed cleavage of her breasts. She was good looking in the girl next door fashion. He enjoyed the shape of her breasts and the shape of her mound as it pushed against the thin material of her panties. Her subtle encouraging words about rewards for good little boys and girls on St. Nicholas Day were lost in his timidity. He was no virgin, but he had not been in this carnal position for much longer than he cared to remember.
He tentatively kissed her. Maggie aggressively returned the kiss thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. Don found his hand moving over her panties and exploring the warm moist area between her thighs. Maggie spread her legs and forcibly guided Don's head down over her chest, while she freed her breasts from her yoga top.
Maggie was enthralled by his response. Don sucked greedily at her nipples. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her panties and explored the lips of her warm moist slit. They soon penetrated her pussy and began to massage her almond of love. Electric bolts of passion charged through her body. She stiffened and writhed. A gasping groan of ecstasy slipped from her lips. She convulsed and covered Don's fingers with spurts of her hot essence.
Don laid his head on her stomach and listened intently to the storm outside and her breathing, and then he asked. "Is that the kind of present St. Nicholas would bring good little boys and girls?"
"Oh yes!" came the reply between frantic gasps. "...And just wait until we start to share the Christmas Pickle," she said with a broken laugh.
Moments later Don found himself naked on the bed with Maggie kneeling over him. She was trailing her breasts over his face and chest. Each time her nipples passed near enough he tried to grab them with his lips. Maggie enjoyed the game. She really took pleasure in the feeling his lips and teeth generated on her now long, hard nubs as she pulled them out of his grasp. "Is this the pickle game," he inquired?
"No, no," came the reply. "The pickle I play with is down here," she giggled. Maggie turned and rested on her side. She now looked down on his semi-erect penis. A nice normal sized, un-circumcised cock she observed. "I bet I can have fun with that," she mused and rubbed it softly from head to root. His cock twitched and Don let out a slight gasp. Maggie continued her teasing touches interspersed with bouts of blowing over his cock and balls.
Don could feel his excitement rising. He did not want to climax too soon, so he asked a diversionary question. "How does this fit into St. Nicholas Day and pickles? St. Nick wasn't a pervert, was he?"
"No, no he was a true saint," Maggie explained as she continued to slowly rub and squeeze his balls and cock. "One snowy winter night, two young brothers were returning from boarding school for the winter holidays. The storm drove them to take refuge in an inn. The innkeeper was a treacherous and dishonest person. He stole their money and sealed them in a pickle barrel. However, before he could place the barrel out in his cold storage shed, so they would freeze to death, St. Nicholas entered the pub. He too sought refuge from the storm. He heard the boys' cries and saved them. That's why Germans always celebrate St. Nicholas Day with schnitzel and pickles and always have green, pickle shaped glass ornaments on their Christmas trees."
"Sounds a little far..."
Maggie interrupted him by turning her body over onto his. Don was presented with a beautiful view of her spread ass and creamy slit. "...No pickle was served with my schnitzel tonight so I'm going make up for that now!" she exclaimed. Before Don realized it, Maggie's hot mouth was over his cock and she was sucking hard. Her pubic hair was pushed over his mouth. Her sweet musky smell, delightful taste, and the incredible sensations generated by her mouth combined to drive Don to a new threshold of excitement, which he had never experienced before. He tried to return her favours by sucking and licking her clit and thrusting his tongue as deep into her sweet tasting pussy as he could. The result was an incredible mutual orgasm, which left both participants drained, sweaty, and exhausted.
Don awoke cold and shivering to the piercing beam of an LED flashlight in his eyes. "What the...?" he stammered.
"Sorry, Luv didn't mean to wake you. Just gathering up my clothes." She moved quickly around the room. "The storm has knocked out the power and it's fucking cold in here. Look, there's even snow on the floor!" Maggie shone the flashlight to the base of his motel room door, where a half-moon of snow spread out from the threshold. "Come on let us get warm." Don's eyes followed the light beam to the passageway door. Maggie's hunched figure fumbled with the lock opened the door, and then went through. "Come on you silly bastard, you'll freeze your balls off if you stay there," came a shout from beyond the door. Don paused for a moment, not sure what to do. "If you're not coming, at least shut the fucking door, before you let all the cold air in," came the shout from the other room.
Don moved quickly toward the flickering light. As he stepped through the passageway he was greeted by warmth. He quickly closed the door behind him. Maggie had placed the flashlight on the kitchen table with its beam pointed to the ceiling. She stood before a small gas stove. The four elements burned with little blue flames. In the eerie light of the flashlight and the stove, the silhouette of Maggie's body looked inviting. Don stepped forward and sought her warmth. They hugged. "A cozy place in the cold," he mused and felt his cock begin to harden against her stomach.
Maggie guilelessly undulated her belly against his growing stiffness and offered an explanation. "This used to be the old manager's suite. When they renovated the motel, they left these rooms as is, including the gas stove and water heater and the old wall mounted gas furnace. It even works when the power is off. So, would you like to stay and keep warm or would you..." Don did not let her finish. He covered her mouth with his and drew her even closer to him.
Maggie broke the kiss and patted him on the cheek. She gently, but firmly pushed him back and cooed, " While I'm finding and lighting some candles, how about you, being a brave upstanding lad, return to that frigid room of yours and retrieve that bottle of schnapps."
When Don returned, he followed the candlelight into the bedroom. Maggie sat in the bed; her legs crossed under the covers as she leaned against the plumped-up pillows. She pointed to the glasses on the bed table. He dutifully followed her silent instructions, while furtively glancing at her naked breasts and hard nipples.
She held her glass in both hands, drew it to her mouth, and slowly sipped. Don downed his shot with a single gulp, quickly returned the glass to the table, and continued to study her naked torso bathed in the flickering light of the candles. Fascinated, he studied her. The dim yellow light softened the angular features of her face. Her age lines disappeared. Maggie's breast rose and fell gently with each breath. Her large nipples seemed to harden and protrude even more under his gaze. Maggie took another sip from her glass. Don reached forward and hesitantly removed it from her hands, placed it on the table, and then bent forward and kissed her lips. Their tongues met and shared the taste of the schnapps.
The lovemaking that followed was gentle but intensely passionate. For Don, it was a series of tender hot touches leading to the incredible spectacle of Maggie applying a condom to his cock with her mouth and the hot, unbelievable, sensation of Maggie's pussy milking him to climax. For Maggie, it was business mixed with pleasure: an extraordinary and mind-blowing pleasure.
The sound of Maggie's cell phone woke them both. She pulled the phone from the bed table drawer. Got up and padded towards the window. She pulled back the d****s. Through the dim grey light, she could see the thick drifted snow. Heavy flakes were still falling, and it was obvious that the power was still out. She looked at the phone screen and muttered out loud, "Fuck you, asshole, I'm not going anywhere on a day like this!" She turned the phone off, snapped it shut, and tossed it on the easy chair by the window. He watched her walk back towards the bed. Her breasts swung rhythmically with each step. Maggie's neatly trimmed pubic hair drew attention to her pouting pussy lips. Her raw sensuality stirred him. This was going to be a much better day than yesterday Don thought. Maggie noticed his focused gaze, smiled, and crawled onto the bed. She snuggled into his arms.
"The snow is knee-deep out there and the power is still out," she asserted. "So how would you like to spend St. Nicholas Day with me?" she coyly asked as she nuzzled his neck and began to slowly fondle his cock.
“Mmmm, hard decision," he whispered in reply and turned his head to meet her lips.
"Well, it would be 200 bucks?" The cold words stuck in her throat. Was she asking too much? Maggie squeezed his cock and stuck her tongue in his ear. Her anxiety subsided a little when she heard him emit a muted growl.
"How about fifty upfront and an I Owe You until I can get to the ATM in the pub?" came the breathless reply.
"I think I could live with that," Maggie replied with a hidden satisfied smile. "Seal the promise with a kiss?"
They made love. For Don, it was another series of shared hot, wet convulsions. He was delighted by the way she responded to his touch and how her mouth made him feel. For Maggie, the promise ensured that she could cover the week's expenses despite the storm. Without that worry, she allowed herself to enjoy the passion of the moment.
In the moderate warmth of Maggie's suite, they showered and enjoyed a breakfast of cheese and crackers, oranges, and coffee. They had not bothered to dress. Maggie knew the sight of her nakedness would keep him interested. It was clear Don enjoyed her nakedness. As he cleaned up the dishes, Maggie retrieved her coat from the pile of clothes she had left on the chair by the passageway door and hung it up. She squirrelled away the roll of bills from the night before and the money from this morning in the locking tin in the top drawer of the dresser in her bedroom and stuffed the rest of her clothes from the night in the laundry basket in the bathroom. Returning to the kitchen, Maggie saw that Don had prepared two mugs of fresh coffee. She went to the fridge, grabbed a sprig of mistletoe, held it over her head, and in a husky voice commanded, "Follow me."
Don grabbed the coffee mugs and followed her lead. He marvelled at her form. She did not have the body of a model, but her firm roundness excited him. He enjoyed the sensual shape of her buttocks. Maggie sensed his stare. When she reached the bed, she crawled over the dishevelled sheets, crouched down, and thrust her bum high into the air. Don stopped short and quickly placed the mugs on the table.
Maggie added to the sensuality of the situation by slowly reaching through her spread legs and leisurely running a finger down her crack and over her already wet pussy. Don's heart hammered with excitement. He bent forward rubbed her buttocks with his hands and greedily began to kiss and lick her ass and slit.
"Oh yes...yes...that's it," Maggie moaned between gasps as the fingers of one of Don's hands deftly tantalized her anal rosebud, while the fingers of his other hand moved back and forth inside her and massaged her G-spot. "Don't stop baby...that's it...OH FUCK!" she screamed, convulsed, and gushed over his rapidly working fingers.
Maggie languidly stretched out on the bed and tried to regain her composure. She felt Don's hands gently kneading her back and buttocks. "Oh this is a wonderful way to make a living," she said to herself and reached for the mistletoe on the pillow in front of her.
The noisy rattle of the furnace blower woke Maggie from her sleep. Power had been restored. She found herself sprawled across the bed with her hand just touching the mistletoe. Her body was partially covered by the bedding and by Don. Normally she would have felt smothered by such close and sustained contact with a client, but somehow Don was different. She looked towards the window. The storm had subsided. Now only small flakes fell from the light grey clouds.
Don stirred. He sensed that Maggie was awake, but he did not move, instead, he listened to her quiet breathing and luxuriated in the sensual warmth of her body against his. Through the window, he could see that the snow was still falling and enjoyed the knowledge that he was going nowhere until the motel driveway was plowed and the surrounding roads were cleared. He saw the flashing neon ATM sign in the pub window across the mall parking lot. He knew that a cursory email and his expense account credit card would cover any IOU's he would need to continue his dalliance with Maggie. He cuddled closer. She purred.
Maggie enjoyed his closeness. For her, the most enjoyable part of their lovemaking had not been his desire to please or the way he responded to her touches and urgings, but the conversation they shared. She felt safe with him. The worry about meeting weekly expenses had subsided with the receipt of a cleverly handwritten IOU. Her only worry now was would her limited supply of frozen dinners and canned soup last until they were freed from the grip of the storm?
Maggie moved. Then roused herself from the bed and walked towards the kitchen. She needed her coffee. A few moments later she returned with two mugs of steaming coffee. Don raised his head from the pillow and propped himself up on his elbow. Her form was outlined in the gray light from the bedroom window. As she approached the bed, her breasts swung rhythmically with each step. She placed the mugs on the nightstand and stood before him, twilling a small piece of Mistletoe in her fingers.
He reached up and gently touched her chin and looked into sparkling brown eyes. They kissed, softly at first and then with obsessed fervour. His hand joined hers around the mistletoe. "Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe," he whispered. She gave him a quizzical look. "A line from Shakespeare," he answered. "In this case, used completely out of context. Mistletoe, like everything else, can represent two things. It can stand for death and decay or safety, love, and fertility. I like the second meaning better, don't you?" Maggie clutched the mistletoe and wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him intently. "How long does the St. Nicholas celebration last?" he whispered, as he nuzzled and kissed her neck and nibbled at her ear.
"For you, until the storm ends or even longer if you like?" came the reply.
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