Exchanging Gifts! (a Cuckold Christmas Carol!)

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Smalldickedex

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Mar 5, 2015
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Why it is important that the right gifts go to the right people.



This is a stand alone story, but if you want to read more about the adventures of Bill and Morgan (and I guess me...ha) please read my other stories on this forum. It will help with background and explanations.



Christmas past (a year before the cucking)...



It was Christmas eve, and my friends and I were having our annual get together at one of the only bars that was open in the area. It was a way for us to connect, some of my high-school, and some of my college friends were around, and in a festive mood. We all occasionally tried to get together and catch up while having a good time.



My girlfriend Morgan was being her usual bright and bubbly self. Tonight she had on a green velvet Christmas dress. It wasn't anything too sexy. It went down to her knees, and the skirt portion was almost like a Christmas tree with little red and white fluffy balls taking the place of ornaments. Her long legs were covered by tight black leggings, basically your average yoga pants. The outfit was completed with a green floppy Christmas hat. She was the social butterfly once again, talking to her friends, and mine, and any patron that paid attention. It was clear she was getting *****. We had been there for a while. Pretty much everyone was feeling good at that point.



She came up to me and whispered, “Are you ready for your presents?” She was referring to the annual, or semi-annual tradition of giving me a blow-job for the holidays. To be more accurate, this was the first part of my “presents”. On my birthday, Valentines Day, Christmas, and some other occasions, she would largely forgo getting me a big present and just give me a long slow, powerful blowjob. Sure, she'd buy me something small, like a baseball shirt with my favorite player and team, but not something too expensive like a full jersey. Just something with the players name and number on the back. It was her way of explaining away what “she had gotten me” for Christmas. To be honest, it was largely my idea. I knew she rarely had more money than her rent and bills. I was quite content with looking down at her head bobbing on my cock like a kid opening his favorite gift. No need to spend money, when your girlfriend could suck a cock like it was her job.



I spanked her playfully and told her to get me a bud light, she giggled and went to the bar. I had bought Morgan a Pandora bracelet and some charms that attached to the jewelery. She had loved the gift, but at the same time, she stated all she wanted was to “cum hard” tonight. She had been worked to the bone over at her hotel due to the holiday season picking up, and she just wanted a nice orgasm to wash away the tension of the week, and the holidays. I could help her with that. She'd get extremely wet sucking me off, like she always did, and when I entered her after that, it wouldn't be long until she came.



The only person who seemed in a sour mood was my friend Bill. He was the asshole of the group, and a ***** to boot. He considered himself quite the ladies man, even if most of the women he fucked were fat. He was chugging beers, sitting at the bar, with the aura of a kid who didn't get what he wanted from Santa. The truth is, by that point I had figured out the only present Bill wanted....my girlfriend's pussy. I wasn't an idiot, I had seen him hit on her, and try his best, time and again. In his defense she was by far the hottest girl we hung out with, maybe ever. She was light-years better looking, fitter and more classy than her friends and our female friends (many of whom Bill had hooked up with). He considered himself the strongest, toughest, best athlete, what have you. Yup, that kind of asshole. Even if he was a little overweight, and short.



Watching him watch my girlfriend as she floated around almost made me feel sympathy for him. At one point, she twirled the skirt around showing it off to a friend, her small ass in the yoga pants peaked out. It wasn't inappropriate, since she had on leggings, but I noticed how Bill gripped his beer when he caught a glimpse. Truly, like a spoiled kid who was pissed he couldn't get the one gift he wanted for Christmas. I tried to help him secure a “hook-up” for the night, maybe with one of Morgan's friends (against her better judgment, since she hated Bill). He just brushed it off, saying he was tired, and not interested. That didn't stop him from drinking until he was stumbling.



It took some badgering on my part to get Morgan to agree to let him crash out my apartment. My two roommates weren't going to be around, and he lived far away so a taxi was out of the question. If he drove, he'd go to jail. He already had two DUIs. This one wouldn't go over well, and he'd lose his license and go straight to jail. Even if it would only be a little while, it was still not something I wanted to happen to him.



When we got to the apartment, Bill wanted more beers. Morgan just rolled her eyes and walked through the kitchen and den, and then up the stairwell to my bedroom. Bill grabbed a beer, and slurred something about Morgan looking “hot”. I couldn't understand him, and within a minute of him sitting on the couch, he was snoring.



I chugged my beer, and then sat in the chair across from the couch were Bill **********. He'd occasionally wake up, drink his beer, say something ridiculous than quickly pass out again. Finishing my own beer, I decided to grab another. I wanted my “present” to last. I knew I was *****, but a few more beers and I'd be able to hold off on cumming too quickly. It was a trick I often used, though it was dangerous, as I could get too *****, and my dick would be utterly useless. Luckily, that rarely happened with Morgan, since she was so sexy.



My cock was starting to move of its own volition as I all but ran up the stairs. Morgan was in the bed, on her phone when I came in, the TV was on, just for noise. The “King of Queens” was on. A funny show. But I had more important things to focus on. Her leggins were off, and her long sexy legs were laying on the bed. She had put her heeled boots back on, after taking the leggings off. She knew I loved to fuck with her heels still on. She saw me and winked, quickly opening her legs to let me peek at her green panties, with a little red festive bow on the top. I sat on the bed, and she crawled up kissed me, while her hand reached down to rub my crotch. This might have been my gift, by I was going to let Morgan unwrap it. She began unbuckling my belt, and easily found the button that connected my jeans at the waist. I lifted my butt up to allow her to pull my jeans down. Her hand began to rub my cock which was covered by my Christmas themed black boxers, that had candy-canes, Santas, and trees all over them. I groaned at her touch.



“Merry Christmas babe,” Morgan cooed, and pulled my boxers down. I wasn't fully hard yet, but I had no doubt that spending some time in her mouth would change that.



We stopped abruptly when I heard Bill call from downstairs, “Hey,” he yelled, “Need some help up there?”



Was he serious, I thought? What an asshole. Morgan asked the same question allowed. “Is he kidding?” She shook her head in disbelief. We waited a minute, hoping he wouldn't take it upon himself to come upstairs. After hearing no movement (the floor always creaked) Morgan went back to kissing me deeply while her cold hand jerked my cock. Right away, something was wrong. My dick wasn't fully hard, but not quite a noodle either. That first wave of horror that I might not get it up washed over me. Morgan moved her head down, and I felt her tongue lick my tip. She swirled her tongue around my tip and took it into her mouth. “Unnnhhhh,” I moaned at the feeling of her warm lips around my cock. She grabbed the base of my cock and my balls with her hand, and then began to suck me hard and fast. I'm not huge, maybe even a little small (I admit it) so Morgan has no problem taking me all in her mouth, even when fully erect. On a good day, I could stretch to five inches, I think, and she'd be able to deep-throat my entire length. Not sure if that truly qualifies as a deep throat, but whatever.



My girlfriend was really bobbing on my cock now, the sounds of her slurping filled the room. I had turned the TV down, because I loved to hear the sounds of her sucking my cock. I was half hard, maybe a third hard, I couldn't really tell. Despite this, I still felt like I was ready to cum, or at least could have.



“Is something wrong,” She finally asked, coming up for air.



I told her no. “I think I've just drank too much.”



She chastised me for drinking too much once again. Then she grabbed my hand, and pushed it right to her panty-covered pussy. I could feel the heat and even the wetness on her green panties. “Well, one of us is excited.” She laughed. She loved to show me how wet she got from sucking my cock.



Morgan stood up and pulled her panties down. I laid back onto the bed. “Did you take the pill?” I asked. I was talking about the “Plan B” pill which made it unlikely that a woman would get pregnant from unprotected sex. This was NOT the intended use by any means. It was designed for women to use after mistakes and broken condoms, as a last resort. We used it to avoid having to use condoms. No one like condoms. This was really my other “present”, as it allowed me to cum inside her. I guess its a present for both of us. No one likes condoms. We're adults, and not teens, Morgan would say. She refused to take the “pill”, however, as it made her loopy, according to her.



She laughed, “You have to take it AFTER sex,” she said and straddled my hips. I felt her cold hands once again grip my cock. I still wasn't fully at my high “five” or even “four” at that point. If I wasn't ready, Morgan sure was, and wasn't going to wait. She wanted her own “present”. Once again, it was clear something was wrong, as my cock bent when she began to ease herself onto it. I fought back the urge to yell out “ouch”. It was at this point, that I was pretty sure I wouldn't be cumming that night. Maybe she knew it too and didn't care. She needed this release.



Her pussy was wet enough that my half-erect/half-noodle-dicked hybrid entered her. Morgan began working herself into a rhythm on my dick. Gravity is an enemy in this position, especially if you're not fully hard. I could feel my dick going full noodle. Never go full noodle, I thought, the words of Robert Downey Jr. from “Tropic Thunder” echoing in my head. I reached up and began playing with her tits, still covered by the dress. Often, this would get a little more blood to rush up my cock.



The frustration on Morgan's face was evident as she began to work herself harder down onto my cock. If I wasn't going to get hard, it would be impossible for her to with my size. “Give me a bit,” I told her, and watched her flop off of me. She wasn't mad, or annoyed really, just frustrated.



As we laid watching “King of Queens” on the television, I began to alternate between dozing off and waking up. Eventually, Morgan got up and grabbed her Juicy velvet maroon pants, and a t-shirt. She told me she needed to clean up, and was going to change. I knew that would mean she would have to walk downstairs, past the den where Bill was sleeping, and through the kitchen to get to the only bathroom in the apartment. It was a pretty shitty set-up. But the apartment was cheap. About fifteen minutes later, she came back dressed for bed. I took this time to go down and freshen up and take a piss myself. Bill was still ********** as I walked through the den slowly and then through the kitchen. Morgan's dress, bra and panties were on the bathroom floor in the corner by the tub. I took a piss and waked back through the den. I turned out the lights as I left and went back upstairs.



Morgan was waiting with a smile, and a come-hither look. We kissed, and I began to finger her, while she rubbed my crotch. I wasn't adept at fingering by any stretch, and it soon became apparent that neither of us were getting off that night. Something wasn't right, as I couldn't maintain an erection.



At around 330AM, I got up to use the bathroom once again. Too much alcohol. Morgan was sleeping soundly. I knew how to creep around the apartment at that point to avoid the creaking of the floorboards. It took me a bit to slowly make my way downstairs. I noticed the light from the TV was on in the den. From the bottom of the stairs, there was a hallway, and to the right, it opened to the den, to the left was the front door (though we all entered from the back stairwell near the bathroom). You could see into the den from the bottom of the stairs. It gave a good view of the couch which was right next to our Christmas tree. It was harder to see someone on the stairs from the couch, than it was the other way around due to the angle of the arched opening and the large very real Christmas tree. The tree, ornaments, and lights which were constantly on, afforded me both better light, and more concealment from the vision of someone on the couch.



Bill was sitting on the couch, with a blanket over him. It was clear he was doing some “work” under the covers with his right hand. In his left, was Morgan's green panties with the red bow. Bill was taking deep inhales of her panties, pushing them right to his nose. The scene was rather hilarious, the mighty Bill (in his mind at least) womanizer and playboy, reduced to masturbation and panty-sniffing since he couldn't get the present he really wanted, the pussy those panties had covered. The look on his face of disappointment and yet utter concentration was odd. It reminded me of the time I had asked my parents for the G.I. Joe Aircraft Carrier as a kid, but got the G.I. Joe Headquarters Command Center instead. I remembered how I felt even now as an adult. That I had deserved the Aircraft Carrier, and the HQ set just wasn't the same. After that disappointment I spent weeks delivering papers, and shoveling snow, and doing any odd job a kid could to earn money. By the end of the summer, and after many cut lawns I had earned the target amount, and rewarded myself by buying the Aircraft Carrier set. At that age, it lived up to all the hype I had in my head. It was more than worth it, especially since I had earned it myself.



That Christmas Eve, well, at that point, Christmas morning, I thought to myself comically, “Maybe you need to work for it Bill, and then it will be there under the tree next year.” It made me chuckle, even though in reality I was speaking of my girlfriend's vagina. The image of Bill coming down the stairs of my apartment (not sure why he would be there, but its what came into my head) to see Morgan nude under the tree waiting, and a look of utter joy on Bill's face made me almost laugh out loud. It also sent a tingle to my crotch, and I embarrassingly had a full erection shortly after. I thought about going up and waking Morgan up. Probably better I didn't.



I just waited for Bill to finish his business. I wasn't going to yell at him at that point. It would have been more than awkward. We'd probably get into a fight. Bill wasn't taller than me, in fact he was several inches shorter. But he was thicker and had bigger arms. I wasn't about to get possibly beat up on Christmas. Even if I held my own I'd probably get bruised up and we had family parties to go to.



What struck me the most was how strange everything seemed. How off it was. Not because he was sniffing my girlfriend's panties, since he couldn't get in them like he wanted, but because it didn't seem right for his character. For all his bravado, and his boasting, I had to admit, Bill got laid pretty often. Though I didn't say it to his face ever, he was kind of a ladies man. The kind that took what he wanted and who he wanted. The idea of him sitting whacking off on the couch sniffing a pair of panties went against all of this. It was just....just...off. It was almost downright wrong. If Bill had to sniff panties and jerk-off, what hope did any of my other friends have. It's hard to explain, but it just didn't fit with his character. It just felt wrong. It almost made me feel sorry for him. That he, Bill, would never get that one “present” he had put at the top of his Christmas wish list. I found myself actually saying “Poor guy”. At the same time, I realized that the thing he wanted was the beauty that I had. It made me smile. He wasn't going to get his present. Poor Bill. I wondered if he envisioned me and Morgan fucking, or him fucking Morgan himself. It took me a minute of awkward reflection to decide which vision would be in my head, were the tables turned. I'd think about me fucking Morgan, I told myself, almost trying to insist the point.



While Bill finished with a grunt, and laid back down, I waited a few more minutes. When I was sure I heard him snoring I walked slowly past him on the couch and through the kitchen to the bathroom. I saw Morgan's clothes all moved around, and realized suddenly how Bill acquired his “gift”. Sure I had known it while I observed him, but now the evidence was in plain sight. I thought about confronting him about stealing her panties, though I decided against it, once again fearing even the slightest bruise on Christmas. I began brushing my teeth and thought about the how things had oddly turned out poorly for myself, Morgan, and Bill this Christmas. Morgan had not gotten the chance to “cum hard” as she wanted. Bill had not gotten the only thing he wanted...Morgan's pussy. And me, I got the blowjob, and the free unprotected sex, but it wasn't really what I wanted, I guess. At least it didn't appear its what my dick wanted that night. So looks like Santa didn't come to this apartment this year, I thought. No one got their “presents”.



I looked down to see Morgan's bra on the floor. Something inside of me told me to pick them up. I knew I shouldn't, but the image of Bill with his “gift” lingered. What did she smell like? I mean I knew, but there was something so naughty about sniffing her undergarments. Hell, Bill of all people seemed to get a kick out of it. I picked up the bra, and sniffed. The utter depravity of it gave me a thrill. It actually built my waning erection back up. But still, something seemed off. Like it wasn't quite enough. It wasn't right.



The next day, while Morgan showered to get ready to go to a party, I sat on the couch. Bill had disappeared in the early morning, without a thanks or goodbye as per usual. I saw the green panties on the couch, right where Bill had left them under the covers. They almost glowed as I looked at them, so inviting. I slowly reached over, and looked towards the bathroom to check if Morgan was coming out. I heard the water running, and was assured she was still inside. I knew that what I was about to do was so wrong. I could sniff the very vagina these panties covered if I wanted to. Right at that moment. All I had to do was go join her. Yet, the sneakiness and the wrongfulness of the act were exciting me. I was rock hard, at my five inch high (or more like four and a half inch today), before I even lifted her panties to my nose.



Moments later I was jerking myself off under my sweatpants while taking in the intoxicating aroma of Morgan's womanhood. It was like a shot of Viagra to the arm to me, and since I hadn't cummed the night before, I didn't think it would take long. But something kept me from cumming. Something wasn't right. The whole thing was missing an element. There needed to be some visual stimulus with this olfactory exquisiteness. I simply couldn't come up with images in my mind. The poor sex from last night kept creeping into my head. My cock began to loose blood, and my boner fully subsided. It was as if Santa had deemed me too naughty to enjoy my “gift”.





My frustration grew. Morgan walked by a minute later. I was sitting on the panties when she told me I could use the bathroom and then walked upstairs. It was weird how something so wrong, felt so right and erotic to me. Yet something was missing.



The day went by rather tensely for Morgan and I. Both of us had failed to achieve the release and satisfaction we had sought. Morgan was rather flippant and terse with me. I, on the other hand couldn't relax, even when drinking at the parties we attended. We weren't the only angry and frustrated parties. I heard Bill started a fight with his brothers, and got so worked up, the family had to tell him to leave and calm down. It was truly a difficult Christmas.







Christmas Present (sort of, because it was still in the past, but go along with it)....



By this point, I was cucked. A cuckold. Not fully willing, but curiously, somewhat excitedly and somewhat embarrassingly enjoying the ride. I won't go into the entire details, as I have in the past. You can read my other story on this site for the full tale. To get right down to it, Bill and Morgan were fucking at this point. I knew it, but at this point I wasn't sure if they knew I knew, or even cared. I was still downright jealous and intensely turned on that my girlfriend who had once hated this guy, was his secret *****.



The annual friend catch-up party was in full swing. Morgan had on the same Christmas tree skirt, but this time with a pair of more seductive leggings. They were really black stockings. Like in years past, Morgan was working the crowd. I noticed the tense and awkward behavior between Morgan and Bill. For a secret relationship that supposedly only they knew about they sure had ups and downs like it was a real relationship. It must have been one of their lukewarm phases, as the tension between them could be cut with a knife. At least that's the way I perceived it. No one else seemed to notice, as Morgan was again taking an anti-Bill stance in public. She had told me not to let him sleep over this year, as she wanted to give me my “present”. She had even gotten the “Plan-B” pill so we didn't need a condom. We were still getting intimate at this point, and I wondered if this was my chance to win her back.



Everything played out like it had the year before. Morgan was again talking about having a rough Holiday season at the hotel and just wanted to “cum hard” for Christmas. Bill was sullen and sulky, watching her, just as he had the year before. Maybe things hadn't been as serious between them or real. Had I imagined it all? He certainly watched her just as he had the year before, like a kid who didn't get the gift he wanted.



I made sure not to drink too much. Again, Bill got to ***** to drive, or even hail a cab. I fought with Morgan to let him crash. She put up the same amount of resistance as she had in the past. Maybe they hadn't gotten too far. I mean, I knew they had sex, but how much and how often was still debated in my head. It made me excited for my “present”.



I still lived in the same apartment, and when we got back, Morgan moved quickly to go upstairs. She instructed me to wait a few so she could change, and then she'd tell me to come upstairs. I sat, drinking a beer as I had a year ago. Bill was too ***** to keep his eyes open. This time, when she texted me she was ready, I turned all the lights off and ran upstairs to get my “gift”.



Morgan was sitting on the small loveseat/couch in my room, holding a basket of candies, small vodka glasses, socks, a t-shirt, and other goodies. But it was what she had on that made my eyes bug out. She wore a tight red Christmas themed “Mrs. Santa” top, with a velvet red skirt to match. Her legs were clad in red fishnet stockings and red strap high-heels that she must have recently purchased as I had never seen them before. There was a large black belt, and white fluffy balls at the tops of her top, and the skirt. The stockings had a black bow and plastic candy-canes were they came up over her knees. She had her hair back in a ponytail and full make-up. She looked breathtakingly sexy.



She saw my reaction and slowly opened her legs to reveal the red velvet panties. “They're kind of gross,” she said, “I've been in these panties all day.” The difference between this year and last was evident in my pants. I was hard as stone. She held up mistletoe with her free hand and smiled. “Merry Christmas!”



I wasted no time kissing my gorgeous girlfriend. I felt her hands rub my cock under my nice slacks. The excitement had gotten to me too fast, and too quickly. The view of her clad in the outfit was more than I could take. When she rubbed me for only thirty seconds, I spasmed. It was a weak orgasm, but one non-the-less. A wet spot appeared on the crotch of my slacks. My face went red. Without any frustration or anger, she smiled at the sight. “That's kind of sexy actually that you got that excited by me.” She said as she stood and kissed my forehead.



We retired to the bed, and Morgan let me rub her long legs, and then I did circles over her red velvet panties with my fingers. I felt her heat and wetness. I was getting hard again, but it was back to the half-noodle/half-hard fiasco. Not because of alcohol, but because I had just cum. I told her I needed a few minutes, and she said it was fine. She needed to use the bathroom, and I was happy when she put a robe over her body.



Still, when she left the room, I wasn't about to wait for her. I knew of their trysts. Besides, for some reason, she still had the mistletoe in her hand. I waited not more than thirty seconds and then crept after her. At the bottom of the stairs was the robe. I knew things weren't going to be the same as last year. From the bottom of the stairs I looked into the dark den. The lights of the TV were on. Morgan was standing over a ********** Bill. I could hear her whispering his name softly, turning back to the hall, luckily unable to see me from the angle.



What I saw next floored me. Bill's cock was poking up and out of his boxer-briefs. I was sure this was intentional. Morgan realized he wasn't waking up, but she bent down and then got on her knees. She held the mistletoe right over his cock. Bill wasn't having any “half-hard” issues. It was standing at attention and must have been eight or nine inches. It was fatter than mine, and a few inches bigger, but it wasn't MASSIVE, like he claimed. Either way, my girlfriend held the mistletoe over his pole, and then I watched as she kissed the tip quickly. She then swirled her outstretched tongue around his meat, and I almost chuckled out loud, at the scene. She was sort of making out with his cock if that's possible. Her tongue was rolling around it. It wasn't a blowjob, it was a kiss. Still, I saw a long trail of pre-cum that started on his cockhead and ended on her lips. Giggling, Morgan stood up and walked towards the kitchen.



I raced back upstairs. Minutes later, Morgan returned, robe back on. She held the mistletoe over her head as she walked to me. “Ready now?” She asked trying to kiss me while I sat on the couch. I turned my head, but she grabbed my chin. “You have to, its tradition,” she said and placed her lips on mine. I fought hard to keep my mouth closed but she grabbed my cock, and it made me jump and open my mouth. I instantly tasted something salty, bitter and unpleasant to my taste-buds. Her breath reeked. But the whole act was causing turmoil inside me. I knew she had just blown my friend. Or made out with his dick. Not sure what it was. Now she was forcing a kiss and jerking my once again hard cock covered only by my slacks and boxers. I grunted. No. No. Not again, but I couldn't stop myself from cumming. “Again,” she laughed looking at my already crusted pants as a new wetspot began to form. “Someone is having fun.”



Morgan sat on the loveseat, with crossed legs, as I drank the Vodka shots, trying to regain an erection as I ogled her. She dangled her foot, and did her nails as she flipped through the television channels. I wanted to fuck her, but my body wouldn't let me. I couldn't get hard again. I felt ashamed at my body for reacting in that way. It was as if my dick and mind were saying, “Look at her, she's out of your league right now. Don't even try!”



I don't know when I **********. Probably after the fourth shot of Vodka I had taken. My groggy eyes awoke to an empty loveseat. I knew that I had to go down and see what was happening. Part of me didn't want to, but that part was outvoted by my cock which had mysteriously come to life. It was rock hard and ready. I crept slowly, not wanting to make the floorboards creak. I reached the end of the staircase, and looked into the dim light of the den. Right next to our tree, on the couch, I saw them. Morgan's back was to me and she was bouncing up and down on Bill's cock, still wearing the sexy Mrs. Santa lingerie, sans red panties. Her fishnet stocking covered legs, were on the outside of Bill's as she rode him, and I could see her heels from behind as they rested on the couch. I must have come down at the right moment, because I saw Morgan's body tense up on Bill's cock, and slow its pace downwards. “I'm cumming,” she whispered as softly as she could. As he body rose I could see her wetness and juices coat the length of Bill's dick. It was then that I realized, she had “cummed hard” just as she had asked for Holidays. “Merry Christmas Morgan,” I found myself saying jokingly in my head. This was good for her, I reasoned with myself. It was immensely erotic to watch, and my cock was harder than it had been in months.



My girlfriend began picking her pace back up on Bill's cock. I could see their union, as her pussy lips seemed to suck on his cock while she descended down once again. In the low-light, I could make out Bill's face. Gone was the glum expression from last year, and hours before at the bar. His eyes closed, and his mouth in a smile, Bill was enjoying what was happening. Exactly like a kid who got just what he asked for under the tree. Fitting that this was occurring under a tree, sort of. Who wouldn't. I thought back to last year when he appeared as a bratty kid who didn't get the gift he wanted. Like I had worked on my goal of buying the G.I. Joe Aircraft Carrier, Bill had worked the entire year on getting the very gift he sought. He had worked out, tried to dress better, and hit on her more often than ever before. His work had paid off in spades, and he was truly enjoying the rewards of his labor.



I heard Morgan mutter, “Don't stop, you can cum inside me,” she taunted me unknowingly. She was going to use the pill, so she'd be alright. Her pace increased, and I watched her begin humping hard onto his cock. “I'm cumming, I' cumming again!” She whispered, and more of her juices began to flow down onto Bill's cock.



“Merry Christmas again Morgan,” I chuckled in my head. That's when my eyes saw the red velvet almost shine in the low light. They were right outside the archway that entered into the den. They almost called to me. Had she left them for me? Was this my gift from her? More likely Bill had thrown them there, or she had simply dropped them on her way to meet him on the couch. Either way, my gift was only feet away from me. Against my better judgment, I got on all fours and crept slowly towards my gift. I knew I shouldn't, but it was all I wanted in that moment. To me, I deserved those panties. If Bill was getting his wish list filled, and Morgan hers, then I wanted my present. Knowing I could be caught at any moment, I moved slowly.



I stopped short when I heard Morgan coo, “Oh god...oh god....I'm cumming!” I looked up to see Morgan's honey begin to form a foaming white mass around the top of Bill's balls. She was getting really good at taking him all the way inside of her. He was buried to the hilt, hey ass resting on his balls. Morgan was getting the gift that kept on giving, I joked. I wasn't sure if I should say “Merry Christmas Morgan” again, or “Merry Christmas Bill” at this point.



Either way, I crawled to my own red wonderful present. I reached for it, and snatched it back quickly. The lovers were too deep in passion to look and see the arm at the entrance of the den. With my prize in hand, my present, I receded back into the darkness of the bottom of the stairs. Soon, I had her panties to my nose. The fragrant smell of Morgan's sex was like a drug, and it sent shockwaves through my nose and down to my crotch. The missing element from last Christmas, the visual stimulus was right there before me in the den, not ten feet away. I realized how odd it was, that watching my asshole friend utterly fuck my girlfriend to frenzy got me so hot, as I sniffed her panties. But something felt right about it all. Morgan was getting what she wanted for Christmas, Bill was getting what he wanted for Christmas, and as I pumped my cock in my fist and inhaled Morgan's scent, I understood I was getting what I not only wanted, but needed. I was a cuckold after all. A cuckold's place was at the bottom of the stairs, sniffing his girlfriends panties and jacking off while his bully of a friend gave her what she needed on the couch.



Unlike last Christmas, everyone was getting the right gift. Morgan wanted to cum hard, and she was, it just was never supposed to be my cock. The man whose cock she was losing herself to was my asshole friend, sure, but he was the same man who had lusted after the very thing he deep inside at that moment. And me, I got the very visuals I didn't know I wanted to help me achieve my own release. It was all stemming from the same act that occurred on my very couch. The problem, was that Morgan had tried to give Bill's gift to me, her pussy. And I was trying to give Morgan the gift of an intense orgasm, when it should have been coming from Bill. My gift, the very panties and experience before me had been enjoyed (and somewhat stolen) by Bill last year. Morgan had left the panties in the bathroom, maybe not intentionally for Bill, but she left them for the wrong person either way. It should have been me receiving the wonderful fragrant gift as I now did.



The Universe was righting itself apparently this Christmas, allowing the right people to receive the right presents. Santa was finally visiting this apartment. Guess we'd all been good this year.



Morgan moaned, “Fuck....I'm gonna cum....ohhhhhhh....” She said it softly and passionately with such honesty.



I heard Bill grumble, and saw his hands grab her ass. I looked down at their union, and saw the familiar frothy, bubbly whiteness of semen coat his dick and dribble out her cunt. “Merry Christmas Bill!” I finally said to myself. Watching this happen was all I needed for myself, and I came right there in my fist hard and intense, my own cum squishing in my right hand. The orgasm almost made me pass out it was so satisfying. It had been a while since I came so hard. “Merry Christmas,” I said to myself and quickly threw the panties down towards the den opening, after glancing quickly to see Bill and Morgan kissing deeply. Morgan had the mistletoe over Bill's head as they kissed.



As I walked upstairs with haste, not wanting to get caught, I snuck back into my room. As I plopped down onto my bed, I could barely keep my eyes open. Morgan came in minutes later, and the bed sank deeper. Her snoring filled the room moments later. We slept like rocks.



In the morning we got ready and went to the annual parties. Morgan was giddy, and glowing. I was relaxed and loose. Bill actually texted me “Merry Christmas” with a smiley face. Indeed. It was a Merry Christmas to us all....
 
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Wow lovely story.
 
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