Abigail "Abby" Olsen had always been a good girl. Her parents had praised her for her goodness her entire life. She could still remember the first time they had told her that being a good girl would keep her on Santa's "nice" list and any misbehavior would be seen by Santa and duly noted in his "naughty" list. At that young age, the idea had embedded itself in Abby's little brain and stayed there for the rest of her life.
Every moral decision from that point on would be weighed against the scales of naughty or nice. The equation of (nice = presents) versus (naughty = lumps of coal) was motivation enough to make the right decisions early on. However, as she grew older, the idea of a jolly fat man with all-seeing magical powers grew less believable but still held its own magnetic power over her view of right and wrong.
"Don't steal money from your parents to go to a concert in high school." -- NICE.
"Don't cheat on your college entrance exams." -- NICE.
"Don't let your steady boyfriend Dennis go all the way and have sex with you in his dorm room." (Even if your entire body is on fire with want and desire and the idea of feeling him inside you makes you want to rip your clothes off and let him take you any way he likes!)
-- DEFINITELY... NICE?
The nice decisions added up, and soon after graduation she married Dennis, and they quickly got busy trying to start a family. Abby wanted to do the right thing and be an obedient, good wife. So, when she got pregnant, she quit her job (at Dennis's insistence) and became a stay-at-home mom.
She enjoyed the time raising their first child, but Dennis seemed more distant and stayed at the office later and later each night. A year later, when Abby got pregnant with their second child, Dennis got a promotion to department head and grew even more distant. The new position took him away from home on occasional business trips throughout the week. When Dennis came home one night in September and stated that he wanted a divorce and was moving in with his secretary, Abby's world fell apart.
Over the next few months, the divorce went through all the neccessarily messy phases that were required and ended with Abby getting to keep the house and having dual custody of the kids. With the impending holidays so close, they agreed to let them stay with Abby through Christmas and start splitting their time up at the beginning of the year.
This suited Abby wonderfully and helped her cope with the loss of Dennis from her life as best it could. The days were hard, but manageable. However, the nights, with a cold bed and no one to hold, made it excruciatingly hard. She would cry herself to sleep, wishing she understood what she had done, and over and over she kept thinking, "When would the reward for being "good" and "nice" arrive? Hadn't she always done the right thing?"
Her sadness turned to anger over the coming days, and soon she was tossing and turning without sleep thinking about how Dennis had cheated on her with his nasty, naughty secretary. In her half-delirium from lack of sleep, her thoughts filled with depraved sexual acts they had surely performed.
"That whore secretary probably got under his desk and sucked him off every chance she got! I bet she loved his cum. I bet she liked nothing better than to sit under there while he was on a conference call and jack his cream all over her face. Yeah, I'm sure she's a real good cocksucker. Likes to lick his balls too, I bet. Hmmmmmm."
As she imagined the scene in her mind, she saw him leaned back in his office chair, smoking a cigarette, with his suit pants and underwear down around his highly polished shoes. The secretary would be swirling her tongue around his rock-hard cock, cleaning the last drops of cum from its dripping tip.
Abby could clearly envision the secretary's face painted in jizz. Her cheeks and forehead coated in frenzied splatters where she had stroked his ejaculating prick with abandon. She'd probably have cum dripping on her blouse too. A real mess for that slut to clean up.
"Ohhhh, shit." Abby whispered as her hand slowly stretched to the rough cotton front of her sensible panties. Tracing her fingers along one edge of the elastic at her crotch, she pulled them aside and immediately encountered wetness dripping from her aroused folds. Her breathing hitched in her throat as she rubbed her fingers in between her flooded love tunnel and teased the sensitive area just beneath her engorged clit. The bolts of electricity shooting through her pussy caused her hips to involuntarily buck and grind her hand against her sex.
"He probably liked to bend her over the desk and fuck her in the ass, too! Stupid bitch probably loved it and begged him to shove it in so hard she couldn't squeeze it shut for a week! I'm sure the feeling of his steely shaft pumping her insides full of cum made her so fucking wet. After he finished, she probably turned around with his load dripping from her asshole and cleaned his shitty cock with her mouth. I bet she loved it! Loved being used. She's so fucking, NAUGHTY!"
Abby's fingers were now thrusting deeply in and out of her throbbing pussy. Wet sounds of ecstasy filled the room as she gasped and moaned herself closer and closer to the climax that was building deep in her center. By this point she could feel the gush of pussy juices flowing down the crack of her ass and tickling her own back door.
"That's the one place I never let Dennis fuck me, and she probably takes it up the ass like a champ. Probably giggles like a schoolgirl while he bounces her on his lap. It's probably why he left me! Left me to fuck some slutty-ass-cheap whore of a woman that satisfies him like he wants! FUCK HER AND HER NAUGHTY, NAKED, NO GOOD CUNT!"
Abby screamed and burst into uncontrollable sobs of fresh tears as the orgasm she had wanted and so richly deserved faded immediately. It was replaced by an almost endless exhaustion, despair, and need in the pit of her belly that radiated sorrow and shame throughout her being. She curled up into a ball and lay there, whimpering and shaking until she drifted off to sleep.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the morning she awoke with bleary memories of the night before but felt a little more rested. It was Saturday, and she didn't have any plans, so she threw on a robe and went downstairs to fix breakfast for the kids.
She found Emma, her oldest, watching cartoons and playing with dolls in the living room. While her son, Liam, the younger of the two, sat at the kitchen table scribbling with crayons.
"Sorry, I overslept, kids! I'll make you some pancakes," she said as she started bustling around the kitchen.
"What are you doing, Liam? Drawing me a pretty picture for the fridge?"
Jumping up from the table, Liam rushed to her side and waved the paper for her inspection. "Writing a letter to Santa, Mommy! I want to be sure that he gets it in time for Christmas. You should write one too!"
"No, I'm too old for Santa to bring me any gifts. I'm probably on the naughty list anyway."
Liam frowned a disapproving pout. "No, you're not, Mommy. You're the best mommy in the world! Here! Write a letter with me. Pleeeeeease?"
Pulling her to the table, he pushed a crayon into her hand and a white piece of construction paper. He begged her to write a letter over and over again until she finally relented and started scribbling out a hurried sentence or two. It started normally, but after a couple lines, she started pouring out her feelings, and the words came faster and faster.
