Candid Confessions Bundle #3 Read online




  Candid Confessions – Bundle #3

  (Episode #9-11 of Candid Confessions)

  By Daniella Divine

  This story includes sexual content, and is suitable for readers aged over 18 only. All characters in the story practice safe sex at all times, even if the details are not explicitly mentioned in specific scenes. This work of fiction is for adult readers who love red-hot romance books with sensual and exciting storylines. Enjoy!

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  This work of fiction is an original romance by Daniella Divine. Smashwords Edition.

  Copyright © Daniella Divine 2013. Published by Red-Hot Romance Books.

  Table of Contents

  Sex in the Snow

  Cuff Me, Officer

  Doctor’s Orders

  Sex in The Snow

  There was a thump, and the young lady awoke – looking round the bedroom to see where the sound had come from. The lights on the Christmas tree in the corner cast a soft glow to illuminate the room. Although the bedroom looked very girly, the female in the bed wasn’t a kid anymore. The way her boobs bulged inside her negligee made it clear she was all woman, and a very sexy one at that. Her blonde hair spilled around her shoulders. Strangely enough, she appeared to have gone to bed wearing make-up, and was wearing stockings and suspenders with her negligee. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she scanned the area around her bed.

  Then she jumped in alarm when she saw the man stepping out of the chimney.

  ‘Oooh, help!’ she screamed.

  The man put a finger to his lips. ‘Don’t be alarmed, Lexi. I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t you know who I am?’

  Lexi relaxed a little, but looked a little puzzled. The man was wearing a red suit and hat, both edged with white, and he had a long, flowing white beard. He was carrying a bulging sack on his back.

  ‘Are you…are you Santa?’

  The man beamed. ‘Of course I am! Ho! Ho Ho!’

  ‘I thought Santa was old and fat…you’re young and slim.’

  She had a point there. Despite the beard, Santa looked like he was still in his twenties. The robe barely disguised the fact that he was broad-shouldered, and his face had the kind of tan that you don’t get at the North Pole. It was all slightly odd. In fact, the beard looked suspiciously fake.

  ‘I get a bad press sometimes,’ Santa replied, placing his sack on the floor. ‘I put on a bit of weight a few years ago, and they’ve never let me forget it. Now, Lexi – it’s Christmas and I’ve brought something for you.’

  ‘But I’m nineteen now. Surely nineteen-year olds don’t get gifts from Santa?’

  ‘Ho! Ho! Ho! You would be surprised. I’ve got a very special present for you.’

  With that, Santa whipped opened his robe to reveal an erect penis that had been gift-wrapped in Christmas paper and tied with a bow. Lexi squealed.

  ‘Oooh! Is that for me?’

  ‘It’s got your name on it. Come and take a look.’

  Lexi jumped off the bed eagerly and skipped across the room to where Santa was standing. She knelt down in front of him and inspected the gift tag attached to his dick.

  ‘To Lexi. From Santa. Oooh! What is it?’

  Lexi obviously wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. But then again, she had other assets to compensate, which Santa was eagerly exploring with his twinkling eyes. He seemed to have a particular interest in those bulging breasts. He gave Lexi a knowing Santa wink.

  ‘There’s only one way to find out, young lady. Better open it and see.’

  ‘Oh, goody!’ Lexi exclaimed. She undid the bow and the wrapping paper immediately fell away, revealing a prime specimen of manhood springing upright in front of her eyes.

  ‘It looks like a lollipop! Is that what it is, Santa? A special lollipop for me?’

  ‘Ho! Ho! Ho! You’d better taste it and see.’

  So Lexi gave Santa something to Ho! Ho! Ho! about. In fact, she turned out to be something of a ‘ho’ herself. She slipped his dick into her mouth with an alacrity that suggested she may have enjoyed this particular activity before. She sucked eagerly, while Santa gave out a groan that would have made the reindeer shake their heads in shame.

  ‘You’re a real Christmas cracker, Lexi.’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re really getting me into the festive spirit, that’s for sure. I can’t wait to get inside your Christmas stockings!’

  Lexi looked up and giggled. ‘And do you know what my favorite part of Christmas is Santa?’

  ‘Turkey?’

  ‘No. I always prefer the stuffing!’

  ‘Me, too! I’m going to stuff you good and proper, Lexi.’

  Santa grabbed Lexi around the buttocks and lifted her up in the air. A moment later, she was impaled on his eager cock, and making as much noise as a turkey on Christmas Eve.

  ‘Fuck me, Santa, fuck me…’

  …I reached across the bed for the remote and switched the TV off. So this was what my Christmas had come to. Watching third-rate porn movies in a hotel room in Colorado. I would never look at a department-store Santa in the same way again. I felt envious of Lexi. At least she was getting some dick, even it was from a freak who crept into kids’ bedrooms at night. Me? I was getting nothing.

  But if all went well, that would change tomorrow. You see, my name is Angel deVries, and I’m a shameless sexaholic. I had been faced with the prospect of a boring Christmas with my folks in Montana. But after a year spent slogging away trying to establish my career as a journalist, I decided I needed a proper break. So at the last minute, I had rather rashly booked myself a Christmas skiing vacation in the Rockies. I had arrived at the resort a couple of hours earlier, all on my lonesome, full of enthusiasm and expectation. I even skipped going down to the bar to try and pick up a guy, so that I could save all my energy for skiing the next day. I had gone to bed early with only Santa and Lexi to keep me company. And if you know me, then you will understand that going to bed alone is one hell of a sacrifice.

  The only fly in the ointment was that I had never skied, despite having been raised in the mountains. My Dad didn’t approve of people having too much fun, and there had always been more important work to do on the farm. So I was a complete novice on the slopes, but everyone has to start somewhere, right? I managed to convince myself that anyone could do it.

  It can’t be that hard…you just stand on top of a mountain and push forward. What’s so difficult about that?

  Ho! Ho! Ho! Boy was I wrong.

  ***

  The next morning got off to a great start. I looked out the window to see a fresh fall of powder snow on the ground. The whole resort looked like a scene from a Christmas card. We were only a couple of sleeps away from Christmas day, so the decorations and lights were up everywhere. In the half-darkness of dawn, the scene looked just beautiful – absolutely beautiful.

  I successfully negotiated breakfast without any accidents or disasters, but after that, my day went downhill. I went to the ski hire shop and came out with skis and poles sticking out all over the place. My boots felt like lead weights, and my ski jacket and pants were so padded that I looked like the Michelin man. I barreled my way down to the bus stop where the shuttle bus for the slopes was due to arrive. There was a line of people already waiting, and as I approached, I was conscious of becoming the center of attention. I seemed to have too many skis, poles and bits and pieces to carry. Walking with all this gear would have been hard enough on terra firma. But the ground here wasn’t firm at all. It was decidedly icy.

  I managed to get within yards of the bus stop without poking anyone’s eye out, and then I must have stepped on a piece of black ice. One moment I was struggling forward, the next I was on my back with my legs sticking up in the air. One of my skis came down and hit me in the face.

  Ouch!

  I felt my face blushing red as I struggled to my feet. If I was going to fall, why couldn’t it have been outside the hire shop, where no-one was watching? Why did it have to be here in front of all these skiers? Of course, no-one came forward to help me. I guess they didn’t want to be associated with the moron of the day. As I staggered to the back of the line, a blonde in bright pink ski gear gave me a dirty look. She spoke to her friend as if I wasn’t there.

  ‘You know, I think some people should be made to have lessons before they are allowed anywhere near the slopes. It’s hard to believe some people are so stupid they can’t even walk, but that’s the way it is.’

  Oooh, the bitch! I could tell instantly that she was one of those girls who are really up themselves. She had obviously spent a fortune on her ski clothes. And while everyone else was wearing hats or helmets, she stood with her head bare to reveal her sexy, blonde curls. She had clearly spent an hour or two styling her hair and putting on make-up. I got the impression she was interested in something other than skiing action.

  When the shuttle bus arrived a few minutes later, I was the last in line, with the blonde bitch just ahead of me. When her turn came to climb up the steps into the bus, I found myself faced with a close-up view of her butt. Now if I had been a guy, I’m sure I would have been content to admire the scenery. After all, she was a hottie – much as I hate to admit it – and she had a very cute butt. The trouble was, all I could think about was her bitchy comment.

  I know it was
cheeky, but I couldn’t help it. As she climbed the steps, I got one of my ski poles and rammed the sharp, pointy end into her butt. She jumped like a rabbit with buckshot up its ass.

  ‘Ouch!’

  She turned to look at me with blazing fury in her eyes. I smiled apologetically.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I slipped on the ice. I guess I should have had that lesson in walking, huh?’

  The bitch stared at me, and opened her mouth to say something. Then she changed her mind and stomped up the aisle of the bus, rubbing her ass as she went.

  Oh boy, that felt sooo good!

  ***

  When we got to the slopes, I handed in my ski lesson ticket, and was told to pick one of the instructors who were waiting at the bottom of the slopes. Oh, goody – it seemed we could choose any instructor who didn’t already have ten students. They were nearly all guys, so of course, I looked for the hottest one.

  There was only one serious contender. It looked like he had just arrived, so he didn’t have a big group of students yet. And as he had removed his hat and goggles, I could see he was a youngish guy with sandy hair and a square-jawed face. I thought I would be happy for him to give me private lessons any time he wanted, and they wouldn’t necessarily be skiing ones.

  ‘Bonjour,’ he said as I staggered over. ‘Are you here for beginner’s tuition?’

  Oooh! An accent. Lovely. ‘Yes, I am. Are you French?’

  He shook his head. ‘I am from the French part of Switzerland. I was raised in the Swiss Alps, so I’ve been skiing since I was three years old. Comment vous appellez-vous?’

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I meant to say, what is your name?’

  Oh, boy…he sounded so hot. Foreign guys just make me keel over and wilt, especially when they are as good looking at this guy. I was definitely looking forward to improving my technique with the help of my hot instructor. Things were looking up.

  ‘Oh, I see. I’m Angel,’ I replied.

  ‘Angel? That is a beautiful name,’ he smiled. ‘My name is Jacques.’

  A voice came from behind us. ‘And I’m Bailey.’

  I turned to see who had spoken and my heart sank. Maybe things weren’t looking up so much after all. It was the blonde bitch in pink. My first thought was how unlucky it was we had ended up in the same group. Then I realized it was nothing to do with luck. Bailey was obviously a horny slut like me, and she had also picked out the hottest instructor.

  Fuck! Or maybe no fuck. Not if she got there first.

  I gave her a sweet smile for Jacques’ sake, because I didn’t want him to think I was a bitch. She gave me an equally sweet smile in return, presumably for the same reason. You would have thought we were best friends.

  NOT!

  ***

  I soon discovered that skiing is a whole lot harder than it looks. The skis seemed to have a life of their own. Sometimes they pointed together so that my legs got tangled and I fell head over heels into the snow. And sometimes they decided to go in opposite directions, so that I did the splits and fell on my back.

  As you will have noticed, the common theme here was me spending a lot of time horizontal in the snow. Luckily, everyone else seemed to be in the same predicament, and Jacques was very patient. By the end of the morning lesson, we were all improving, and I spent most of the afternoon working on my new skills. By the end of the day, I was able to navigate down a modest slope without killing anyone, and was even getting the hang of turning and stopping.

  Go, Angel, go!

  The next morning was Christmas Eve, which is usually one of my favorite days of the year. But on this occasion, I didn’t wake up with as much enthusiasm as usual. Boy, was I sore! I had aches in places where I never knew I had places, and I was so exhausted I could hardly move. But after a good breakfast and a couple of Anacin, I was ready to face the slopes again.

  When our lesson started, I could see that most people in the group had improved a lot since yesterday. I guess we had all put in a few hours of practice the previous afternoon. Even Bailey the Bitch had got the hang of it, much to my disappointment. But I soon discovered that pride comes before a fall – literally. Just when I thought I had this skiing thing cracked, I fell flat on my back halfway down the slope. I had been going way too fast for my skills. Serves me right for getting too adventurous.

  Jacques glided over and helped me to my feet.

  ‘Angel, are you OK?’ he asked. ‘That looked like a nasty fall. Did you hurt yourself?’

  ‘No more than usual. Now even my bruises have got bruises, so I hardly notice anymore.’

  ‘I saw what you did wrong. You were leaning backwards instead of forwards. This is a very common problem, but very easy to fix. Let me show you how to balance.’

  Next thing I knew, Jacques’ arm was around me, coaxing me into the right position. Even through all the heavy clothing, it was good to feel his body next to mine. Oh yes, this was much more like it! Jacques spoke into my ear, his face just inches from mine.

  ‘Your balance is very important when you are skiing. You must not lean backwards. You must lean forwards over your skis.’

  ‘You mean like this?’

  I leaned forward so that my chest jutted forward, pushing my boobs towards Jacques. I was gratified to notice him staring at them for a second or two, before forcing himself to look away. I hoped Bailey was watching…this would make her as jealous as hell!

  ‘That’s better,’ Jacques said. ‘But you are still not committing yourself. You must lean further forward.’

  ‘Like this?’ I pushed myself forward so that my boobs were bulging almost into Jacques’ face. This time he wasn’t able to tear himself away. He stood there staring at my favorite assets with undisguised enthusiasm. Things were going very well, until…

  Ouch!

  …something whacked into me from behind, sending me sprawling forward into the snow. I landed off the edge of the slope, with my face buried in a foot-deep drift. My head hit solid rock. I came up spitting snow and spluttering, turning to see what had crashed into me. I should have known.

  It was Bailey the Bitch.

  Jacques was helping her to her feet, and she had both arms around his neck, doing a fantastic impression of a damsel in distress. She looked him in the eye and fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly.

  ‘Oh, thank you, Jacques! I don’t know what happened. I was just coming down the slope and that silly girl got in my way! She could have really hurt me.’

  Jacques had both arms around her waist. ‘Don’t worry, I have you now. I’ll take good care of you. Are you in pain, anywhere?’

  Now it was Bailey who was thrusting her boobs at him. ‘I did hurt my chest a little…right here.’

  She pointed at her left breast, and Jacques gave it a close examination that seemed to have little to do with medical concern. Meanwhile, I was left to struggle to my feet on my own. Jacques seemed to have forgotten I was in the same universe. He was too focused on helping Bailey down the slope, one hand on her waist, the other holding her ski poles for her. As they passed me, Bailey turned and gave me a knowing smirk.

  The cow. If that collision was an accident, then I’m a virgin. And you know what the chances of that are (hint for new readers – none at all).

  ***

  Of course, the best part about skiing is not the fun on the slopes, but the fun at the après-ski parties in the evening. And seeing as this was Christmas Eve, there was a whole lot of fun lined up at the resort. I called my folks back home to send them holiday wishes and all that, then I got myself tarted up for the big event. I was still determined to have a crack at Jacques, even if it meant taking Bailey on head-to-head in a snowball fight.

  After going through all my clothes, I realized I didn’t have anything that was hot enough to compete head-on with Bailey. I couldn’t let the bitch out-dress me, so I went down to the resort shops to see what I could find. The resort had quite a decent mall. A lot of rich people vacation here, so I guess there is enough demand to make it worthwhile. I found a store that seemed to do good business in après-ski gear. I imagine a lot of people arrive with lots of ski clothing, but without thinking of clothes to wear in the evening.