“And we’re back with our Naughty New Year Contest!” Damon checked the call lights. Three were already flashing red. KBBI had been on the air with the contest since nine o’clock, when the kiddies were, one hoped, no longer listening.
“You know the rules. Adults only. That’s eighteen and over, folks, and no excuses, like you were stoned on your birthday so it didn’t count. Can you believe someone actually tried that one? Points for originality there. You know what’ll happen if you try to mess with me. Yup, I’ll open a,” he pressed a sound effect button, “can of whup ass on you. Okay. Now we got that straight, hit me with your naughtiest New Year’s Eve plans. If you’re sitting home alone, well, that’s okay too. You got an imagination, don’t you? Fantasies count in this game. No verification necessary. Whoever wows – make that shocks -- our panel of judges the most wins that cherry red convertible that’s been sitting in front of the station all week. Me, I just want someone to get it out of here, man. It’s like walking past a supermodel every day, lookie no touchie.”
Damon’s DJ voice was completely different from his regular voice, and so was his personality. On the air he was the wild and goofy jokester, while off the air he was downright reserved. Maybe even boring. At least that’s what his ex, Sally, had told him during their last fight.
He shook off thoughts of Sally. He didn’t need her ruining his New Year’s Eve show. Her or her new boyfriend, Gary. Gary. What a stupid-ass name. Perfect for a gearhead Aussie muscleman who only wore a shirt if a 7-Eleven sign told him to.
The wild gesturing of Freddy, the production intern, caught his attention. Dead air. Fuck. Blame Gary and Sally for one more thing.
“All right, all right, let’s get this snowball rolling. Who can make me blush like a virgin at a strip show? Who can put the “F” in “What the F were you thinking? Line two, you’re up.”
A sultry girl’s voice spoke. “Me and all my sorority sisters are going skinny-dipping at midnight. You’re invited, Damon.”
“Sorority sisters, huh? What are you guys, the Gamma Delta Skank-a’s?”
“If that’s what turns you on,” she purred.
Damon let that slide. They might sound sexy on the radio, but the reality never lived up. It worked both ways, of course. Listeners thought he was some kind of sex god and were mostly disappointed.
“There we have it. Sorority sisters skinny-dipping at midnight. Say that ten times fast. I like it, I like it, but what does our panel of judges say?” He pressed another sound effect button and a gong reverberated. “Sorry about that, girls. Have fun though. Line three, what’s your Naughty New Year’s Eve plan?”
“Am I on the air?” The caller gave a sob. “Oh, thank God. You have to help me, Damon.” Damon turned up the volume on his headset. Something in this woman’s voice sounded different – more serious. She wasn’t flirting or joking around. And she sounded familiar.
“Who is this?”
“I don’t want to say my name on the air. But my lover handcuffed me to the bed and left me here, naked and spread-eagled, hours ago. I think something must have happened to him. Help me, please.”
Damon relaxed. He prepared to enjoy himself dismantling her preposterous story. “If you’re handcuffed to the bed, how’d you make this phone call?”
“There’s a phone on the bed side table. I knocked the receiver off with my chin and pressed redial with my tongue. I guess the last call was to the radio station.”
Damon frowned. She sure sounded real, with that shaky voice. But please. Pressing redail with her tongue? He decided to call her bluff. “I’ll call 911 right away. I’ll transfer you to Freddy the intern and he’ll take down your address.”
“No! No police. Please, D. Please.”
Damon froze. She’d called him “D.” Only one person had ever called him “D.” He opened his mouth to say, “Sally, is that you?”, then snapped it shut. Pissed as he was at his ex, mentioning her name on the air was not cool. Instead he punched the “can of whup-ass” button. “I warned you guys about messing with me. Caller four, what are your naughty New Year’s Eve plans?”
While the guy talking about rubbing coconut oil all over his girlfriend’s body for a pina colada body shot, Damon ripped off his headphones. “You’re taking over, Freddy,” he told the intern.
“Naughty New Year. How hard could it be? Sink or swim, kid.” He grabbed his jacket and launched himself out of the studio.
He spent the short drive to Sally’s house cursing himself for being such a sucker. What kind of woman called her ex to rescue her from a sex game with her new lover? And what kind of man dropped everything to rush to her bedside, just in case she wasn’t toying with him? But there was something about Sally. Exciting, daring, addicted to the edge. But also sweet and loving and endlessly joyful.
But apparently he hadn’t been enough for her. At least that what he assumed. He hadn’t been willing to listen to her explain why Gary was better than him. He wasn’t that much of a masochist.
He swung into her driveway and raced up the front steps. He pushed open the door, only to have his arm jerked behind him.
“You’re under arrest for breaking and entering,” growled a low male voice. In the darkness, he could just make out the outline of a police officer.
“I got a call,” Damon explained quickly. “I know the owner of the house. Sally Burke. She invited me here. I’m not trespassing.”
“We’ll see about that.” A handcuff clinked onto his wrist, the other to the officer’s wrist, as if he were a manacled prisoner. Holy fuck, this was serious.
“That’s really not necessary …”
But the officer was hauling Damon toward Sally’s bedroom, where he shoved him through the door. Sure enough, there was Sally, with all her blue-eyed, angel-faced sexiness, naked in bed. A pair of handcuffs dangled from the bedpost, but they weren’t around her wrists. She’d lied.
“I’m outta here.” Damon turned to go, forgetting that he was handcuffed to the officer. The police officer turned on the lights and shoved his hat back to reveal his face. “Gary? What kind of fucked up game is this?”
“It’s not a game,” said Sally quickly. “You never let me talk to you. This is the only thing I could think of.”
“Trick me? Handcuff me to your new boyfriend? What the fuck?”
“I just want you to listen. I love you. I still want to be with you. I don’t want to break up. I never did.”
“I don’t believe you. You wanted him.” He jerked his head toward Gary.
“Yes, but I miss you. I want you to take me back. I’m begging you.” She stepped off the bed, walked toward him, then dropped to her knees. She reached for his zipper. Stunned, knowing he should stop her, but somehow paralyzed, he watched her liberate his cock and give it a long, hungry, lascivious lick. Sally knew just what he liked, curse her, and his body responded quickly to her touch. His cock sprang up like a fucking race horse. He completely forgot that Gary stood right next to him. Groaning, he closed his eyes while Sally worked her magic. When he was hard as one of her bedposts, she withdrew her glistening mouth and licked her lips.
“Here’s the thing. I’m not the only one in this room who’s hot for you,” she said.
Since all the blood had left his head, it took Damon a few beats to realize the only other person in the room was Gary. He swung his head toward the “officer” – with the lights on, it was perfectly obvious that he was a fake, like some character out of Magic Mike. Gary winked at him.
“I’m all about the fun, mate. Ready when you are. Sally chatters on about you and how much she still loves you, and when she let it slip that one of her favorite fantasies is a threesome, I said, let’s give it a go.”
“Give it a go,” Damon repeated faintly, the blood still pounding in his cock.
“You, me and Sally. She’ll be the meat in the sandwich, if you know what I mean. She warned me that you might not go for it, since you’re a bit on the straight-edge side. But I said, I listen to the dude on the radio. That dude can get wild if he wants to. He just needs a little kick in the ass.”
In Gary’s laughing brown eyes, Damon spotted a lot more intelligence than he’d guessed. The message came through, loud and clear. Gary didn’t want to steal Sally away from Damon. He just wanted her to be happy. And to be happy, she needed him, Damon. Looking into her pansy-blue eyes, he knew it was true. They belonged together. As for Sally’s wild side? Well, maybe he should make the best of it.
“You really want this?” He asked Sally.
She nodded, her eyes misting over. “I love you. But sometimes I just … need to play. It would make me so very happy if you would play with me. Only if you want to, though.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then I’m still glad we did this, so at least we could talk.”
Her head drooped, her body slumping in disappointment; even her luscious breasts looked sad, their nipples a wan pink rather than the deep rose of their aroused state. And that did it. Sally wasn’t designed to be sad. She was a laughing, carefree flower who cast joy around her like petals. Besides, it was New Year’s Eve. Why the hell not?
“Gary, how about you play with her nipples while she finishes sucking my dick?”
Sally’s eyes flew open. Gary saluted, then unlocked the handcuffs. “Serve and protect, that's me.” He moved behind Sally to take her breasts into his hands. The sight didn’t bother Damon at all – maybe because she was now pulling on his cock with great suckling tugs.
“I’ll say one thing,” Damon gasped as he surrendered to the bliss of fucking her hot mouth.
"What's that?" Gary asked, palming Sally's nipples.
“You guys win the Naughty New Year contest. Hands down.”
The end (and the beginning)
Thanks for joining the Naughty New Year's Hop! I hope you're having a great time with all the naughty stories and eye candy. How about a little side contest? If you leave me a comment, I'll put you in the running for a complete set of the Receptionist series, TRAINING, RESTRAINING, and UNLEASHING THE RECEPTIONIST. For more about the series, or my other books, click on the sidebar or check out my website.
Have an extra naughty New Year and a wonderful 2013!