Chapter 4

So much for anonymity, thought Willow, gasping as Jeff shoved his cock inside her.

She thought about stopping him, about stopping all of this before it went any further. She wasn’t even the one who was supposed to be in this box, and surely whoever that was would’ve had the right to call it quits at any point, too. She’d already crossed several lines, but letting someone she knew--letting Jeff--fuck her was another line beyond those. Knowing how smug he’d be that he finally got to fuck her after looking at her with lust in his eyes all these years, knowing she’d never be able to see him again without thinking about this moment... it was almost too much to bear.

Almost.

Willow opened her mouth to suck the cock in front of her and let Jeff have his way with her.

Jeff was gentle compared to the first guy who’d fucked her, taking his time with slow, methodical thrusts. The guy in her mouth blew his load, and then another did by the time Jeff was finished.

Jeff pulled out, and someone else quickly took his place. And then someone else took that guy’s place.

Again and again, it went for the next hour. Willow tried to keep track of how many guys she blew and how many fucked her, but she stopped after a while. Any hesitation she’d felt in the beginning was long gone. She’d become nothing but holes to be used by men she’d never see (and Jeff), and her only wish was that one of them would finally give her the orgasm that was always frustratingly just out of reach. She should have been shocked that she’d gone from a woman who’d never considered cheating on her husband to a desperate slut eager for the next cock to poke through the box’s holes, but she wasn’t.

The only thing that shocked her was how quickly it happened.

The action started to slow down. Instead of a new cock immediately replacing the last at either the front or the rear hole, it took a few minutes. And then, nothing for several minutes. Willow’s frustration was building, as she still hadn’t come. She knew she probably wouldn’t by this point, but she’d been holding out for a Christmas miracle all her own. She felt a brief moment of panic as she realized she didn’t know how to end this. Should she just get up, open the box, and climb out, even if there were still guys in the room?

Willow reached out and touched the side of the box. It felt incredibly flimsy. It had taken so much abuse from the men who’d used her that she was surprised it was still standing.

“Look who it is!” she heard a man say. “You better not let Mrs. Claus know you’re here!”

“No need to worry about her,” she heard her husband say. “I sent her home so I could have some fun.”

So he didn’t send her home because of her flirting. It was so he could fuck some random whore in a box. The fact that she’d become the random whore in a box lessened her anger toward her husband, but only a little.

“Oh, you’ll have a lot of fun with this little gift,” the other man said. “I’ve had fun twice already and was thinking about going back for thirds!”

Willow smiled. The thought that she was so good someone wanted thirds warmed her heart and almost made up for Greg being an asshole.

She heard the sound of Greg undoing his Santa Claus belt buckle just before he shoved his cock through the front hole. Even if she hadn’t heard him talking, she’d have known him by his little dick. It was the smallest she’d seen--or felt--today.

She didn’t suck it.

Greg tapped on the box and said, “Hello? You alive in there?”

“Maybe she just needs a break,” the other man said. “That mouth’s been working hard today.”

They both laughed about that. Greg pulled his cock out of the hole. A moment later, she felt his fingers poking at her pussy through the other hole. Her aching pussy’s need for stimulation overrode her anger for him, and she pushed back against his hand.

“Looks like this ride’s open for business,” Greg said. “Ho, ho, ho!” And he shoved his cock inside her.

Greg fucked her for a couple of minutes. She again felt her orgasm building. She almost laughed, thinking that of all the men who’d fucked her today, it might be her husband--who’d never made her come with mere fucking--who did the job. But it was not to be. He suddenly stopped and pulled out, leaving Willow more frustrated than when he’d started.

“There any lube here?” she heard Greg ask. A moment later, he said, “Good. Thanks.”

Willow felt his fingers again, smearing her asshole with the lube someone must have given him. Another bolt of panic shot through her as she realized what he was going to do.

His cock knocking at her back door a moment later confirmed it.

This was too much. He’d asked for anal for years, and she’d never let him do it. Not because she was opposed in general--she definitely wasn’t-- but because he always brought up how much he enjoyed it with Beth. If he hadn’t brought Beth into it, she’d have let him have her ass any time he wanted, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having something else to compare between his first wife and his second. He seemed to do that enough already.

And yet.

She did nothing to stop him as he slowly shoved the head of his little cock inside her ass. She felt her whole body flush with humiliation, with shame, with anger, but she pushed back against him anyway, urging him to go deeper. She’d never be able to explain it, but she both wanted it and didn’t want it at the same time, and this only made it better, and knowing that he’d never know she’d finally given him his wildest dream did, too.

It only hurt briefly, and after the first few thrusts, she started to enjoy it. He didn’t last long, and when she felt him release inside her, she was almost disappointed it was over.

“Goddamn,” Greg said, pulling out. His cum rushed out of her asshole and seeped down her legs. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

Willow laughed.

Greg laughed, too. “You sound a lot like my wife, but she never lets me do that!”

“I guess Santa needs Christmas gifts, too, huh?” she heard another voice say. A familiar voice. One she’d heard before this crazy adventure started.

“Hello, Ethan,” Greg said, pulling off his fake Santa beard. “Oh,” Ethan said. “I didn’t realize Santa was an old friend.”

“Not your friend,” Greg said. “But have some fun with my sloppy seconds. Like you always do.”

Willow heard a loud pounding on the box. Greg must have hit it to drive home his point about sloppy seconds, but a moment later, the box collapsed around her.

She lay there in the ruins of the box, exposed. She looked up and saw the man who’d talked to Greg when he first came in looking down at her. Greg and Ethan were behind her, and she could feel their eyes on her.

“Willow?” Greg said.

She rolled over, not bothering to cover herself. She was fully aware of what she must look like, with cum on her face and in her hair and seeping out of her asshole and swollen, reddened pussy. She had so much cum on her and inside her that she couldn't help but think this had turned into quite the white Christmas.

She took in Greg’s bewildered expression and then looked at Ethan. His eyes had a hunger in them she desperately wanted to satiate.

“Well, Ethan?” Willow said. “He offered you his sloppy seconds.”