New Year's At St. Moritz by Jmilesd4

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited. Characters under 18 do not engage in sexual activity.)

New Years' At St. Moritz

Damon Rundberg

It sounded like the trip of a lifetime. Unfortunately, it didn't work out so great, at least for me.

I met Alice at the University of Western Florida in Pensacola. I was teaching a section of Auditing while working on my MBA in Finance. Alice was one of my students. We became acquainted when I offered her some pointers on double majors. I had majored in Accounting and Management at UWF Emerald Coast as I grew up in Fort Walton Beach. Alice's double major was in Accounting and Marketing.

Alice had an exuberant personality which became apparent as soon as lecture was over. Her personality was almost as apparent as her sexy bod. It was a turn-on just to briefly converse with her after class. She had a pleasant face with a million-dollar smile and bedroom blue eyes, surrounded by a sea of natural blonde hair. She was sex on a stick and she knew it, apparently enjoying my trying to hide my excitement at talking to her one on one while trying to maintain the appropriate formality of teacher-student relationships. Even observing her 36D-23-36 profile walking away was what can I say - distracting.

Things between us came to a head when she came to my office hours for some help with an auditing homework assignment. It quickly became obvious that, in spite of my years of work experience dealing with auditors, she understood the process almost as well as I did.

I told her, "Alice, you are one of my brightest students. Why are you here?"

She replied, "I thought you might be willing to tutor me in some non-academic areas."

I responded, "What did you have in mind?"

She said, "Come by my house around seven tonight and we'll discuss it in detail."

I'm sure there are men who could have resisted those baby blues and that gorgeous smile, with the ever greater promise of those round size D's in the background, but I wasn't one of them. "See you at seven," I promised with trepidation and a smile.

At 6:55 I showed up at the address she had given me. It was a very nice frame home with a well-manicured lawn.

She met me at the door, dressed in a short skirt and a tank top barely hiding her braless 36D's. She took me to her room and laid down on her bed, not bothering to adjust her skirt which had slid up to partly reveal her bikini-cut panties. She said, "Why don't you come a little closer and we'll get down to business."

I knew then that I was the helpless victim of a force of nature. I lay down beside her and kissed those soft, luscious lips. She kissed back with tongue and it was better than I had imagined. I went immediately for her full, round, buttocks. Shortly, she grabbed my manhood, and we were off to the races. I was in my prime and I had excellent control but it was like I had been taken away in a tornado to a place I had never been. We began to take each other's clothes off while fondling and caressing these newly discovered bodies.

When she exposed my seven and a half inches of erect and ready maleness, she commented, "Good! I like big boys!"

When I started to go down on her, she told me, "I've been waiting over half a semester for this. I want you inside me now. I entered her, facing her, with us lying on our sides. To feel myself sliding into her hot, wet sheath felt incredible. She had her first orgasm in less than five minutes of steady stroking. After two hours, numerous position changes, close to twenty feminine orgasms, and three male ejaculations, I lay beside her holding her hand and trying to get my breath back.

I asked, "Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

She replied, "I think I need to straighten you out on a few things: First, you will be spending the night here; second, you will be here at seven tomorrow night to continue our discussion; and third, you will keep your weekend free. Do you have any questions about your assignments?"

I couldn't help but smile at her mock earnestness, "Yes, Miss Portnoy. I understand my assignments."

She responded, "Okay, you need to do the bathroom after I finish, then you need to hold me and kiss me before we go to sleep. For your information, you were wonderful."

I weakly said, "I second the motion."

By the end of the semester I had effectively moved into the house she shared with three of her sorority sisters.

I started paying a share of the rent, utilities, and food. I was never happier. We both graduated at the end of the semester and moved into my starter home in Mobile, near my employer, Pendergraft Industries. I had been on a twelve-month leave of absence while working on my MBA, and now I was in training to be VP of Finance.

Alice got a job as a Sales Assistant with Pendergraft. Since we weren't married, she started off as Alice Portnoy and continued the use of that name professionally, even after we were married. In less than twelve months, she progressed to Sales Associate and then Saleswoman, with a southern Georgia territory. On the night out celebrating her promotion to full-fledged salesperson, I proposed, and she accepted, saying, "It's about time, old man!" recognizing our twelve year difference in ages.

She took a six month part-time leave of absence with each of our three children, but even while on leave, she maintained contact with her customer base, working from home.

After ten years of marriage and almost twelve years of being together, I couldn't be happier. Randy was in elementary school, Roberta was in kindergarten, and Rodney was looking forward to pre-K. I was established as VP of Finance, and Alice was a Regional Sales Manager, and still leading the company in personal sales as she had for eight of the last ten years, despite being a working mother. The company's VP of Sales position was now in her sights. Our child care was well in hand with Carla, our maid and nanny of several years and my parents, who still lived in Fort Walton Beach, were always eager to act as grandparent babysitters.

Alice Portnoy

I grew up in Atlanta. My parents sent me to private schools. However, they sent me to UWF, because they didn't want me going to a party school like Georgia Tech, Georgia, Florida, Florida State, or heaven forbid, Miami.

I vetoed Georgia State as being too close to home. I wanted a college life, different from my eighteen years of living at home. I had just barely lost my virginity before my high school graduation. That's right, it was in a seedy motel after the Senior Prom.

At Western Florida, I tried to make up for lost time without getting a reputation as a fraternity party slut. I think I succeeded by having primarily one on one sexual encounters except for a few threesomes. Then I came into contact with Damon, my Auditing instructor. I don't know why but it was on one of his early semester lectures, I decided I wanted this man, even though he was over thirty. He told us that his primary employer was in Mobile and that he had been divorced for seven years. I still don't know what it was that attracted me so strongly, his voice, his eyes, or just his calm demeanor in front of a class.

When I couldn't stand it any longer, I took the bull by the horns and invited him over to my house for a consultation. The first two hours of 'consultation' was one of the peak sexual experiences of my entire life. I quickly established that his nightly position was to be touching me; I didn't care how.

My parents thought he was a class below us, but then they hadn't fucked him. They soon came over to thinking the world of Damon; I think it was when they had a bouncing baby grandson in hand and learned that Roberta was in the oven.

My professional career was going great guns. I was confident I was in line to become VP of Sales; the only negative being that Ozzie, also known as Oswald Pendergraft, the Chairman and CEO and principal owner of my employer, was always trying to cop a feel of the merchandise, which I considered strictly off-limits except for one Damon Rundberg.

I had no problem with the inconsistency of being a campus slut for three years and suddenly transitioning to being a faithful wife and mother. I later learned that my mother had not always been a goody two-shoes and had made the same transition around twenty years earlier than my own.

I was thirty-two years old; I had a great husband; and three lovely children. My life couldn't get any better. Then Ozzie announce a celebration of his thirty years at the helm of Pendergraft Industries. He published an itinerary for an eight-day trip to Switzerland, including New Year's Eve in St. Moritz. It was an all-expense paid trip for the seven executives and six regional sales managers. The northwest and southwest regions were headquartered in San Francisco; the northern Midwest and northeast regions were domiciled in Chicago; and the southern Midwest and Southeast regions were located in Mobile. The last region was mine. There were only twelve couples since Ozzie was getting a twofer with Damon and me. The other managers were bringing a spouse or other plus one.

The published itinerary was the following:

Saturday, December 28: Mobile or other starting point to Miami; enjoy South Beach after arrival.

December 29: Miami to Zurich

December 30: Zurich to Andermatt to St. Moritz

December 31, New Year's Eve: Bobsled ride at Olympic bobsled run

Horse-drawn sleigh ride to Val Fez

Lunch in Val Fez

Return Sleigh Ride

Dinner and NYE party at hotel

January 1, New year's day:

Morning: St Moritz shopping, horseback riding on ice, skating, skiing.

Afternoon: Watching ice polo and/or cricket, or continue morning activities

January 2: Return to Zurich from St Moritz

January 3: Return to Miami from Zurich

January 4: Return to starting point from Miami

Sunday, January 5: Rest up for return to work on Monday morning

Damon and I were both very excited about it and looking forward to it with great anticipation.

Damon

The trip seemed to me to be a little over the top. Alice was very excited about it, so I tried to mirror her excitement. I would have been happier if Ozzie hadn't been making an ass of himself with his constant hitting on my wife.

Anyway, the first part of the trip went very smoothly. Alice and I dropped the kids off in Fort Walton Beach with my parents and they drove us to the FWB airport in their SUV. We barely had room in it so that the kids and grandparents could watch Alice and I lift off and disappear in the general direction of Miami. Ozzie had reserved us a room in a first class hotel, and the next day we returned to Miami International for the flight to Zurich.

We ran into our friends, Ray and Sally Johnson and decided to share a drink in one of the airport bars. Ray was the Regional Sales Manager for the South Central region which was Alabama and points west before the Southwest region began. We had an enjoyable conversation killing time until our flight.

We decided we should drain the lizards before boarding, so we went to the restrooms. Ray and I came out quicky and waited for Alice and Sally to finish their business. We waited and we waited, and finally we decided that we needed to run or we would miss our flight. We had no idea what had happened to our wives. We started to run through the airport when security guards stopped us. I guess they thought our casual dress indicated that we were terrorists. Our next hurdle was a bottleneck caused by a cleaning crew closing off a corridor for mopping. This was compounded by our getting behind a gaggle of senior citizens taking their own sweet time getting to their gate.

We began running again once we cleared the senior citizens and got to the gate and felt relieved that the plane was still there. Nope, the gate personnel told us that the door had already been closed and regulations prevented them from reopening it. This was one airline I would be avoiding in the future. No problem. We headed for the nearest problem resolution center. Hopefully, we would catch up with the main party by catching a flight in a couple of hours. We heard our names being paged and continued on to the nearest PRC.

A woman at the counter informed us that she had both tickets and a message for us. It was a text from Ozzie:

Sorry you missed the flight.

Also sorry that all flights for today are fully booked (due to it being a holiday period).

We were able to get you seats on the same flight for tomorrow.

You are now booked for one more night at the same hotel.

It's just one room with two beds; I thought you guys wouldn't mind bunking together.

Alice and Sally made the flight and will be waiting for you in St. Moritz.

I've revised your train reservations for a day later.

You'll still be able to celebrate New Year's Eve with your wives.

Your friend and boss, Oswald Pendergraft

It was a long day with Ray not being a very good surrogate for my wife. It was an even longer night in the hotel wishing I was with Alice and wondering what the pussy hound called Ozzie was up to, with my darling Alice alone in a foreign country on a different continent.

Alice

Sally and I were both frantic once we got on the plane and realized that Damon and Ray were not on board. Ozzie assured us that he would take care of things. In a few minutes he came back from the forward galley and told us that the next flight available was tomorrow and so the guys would be running twenty-four hours after us. What a start to a nice week-long mini vacation.

The next shoe to drop was Ozzie the sleaze asking me if the seat next to me was taken. He knew damn well it was Damon's seat and he had missed the flight. I asked him about his plus one. He said she had taken ill the night before leaving Mobile and so wasn't it convenient that both of our plus ones missed the flight. I managed by dint of a great effort to hold my breakfast down. Bad enough that my husband missed the flight. It was even worse to have this sleaze bag literally breathing down my neck.

Ozzie was trying his best to be charming and after two or three drinks, he seemed a little less disgusting. If he could just quit gloating and try to act a little disappointed that Damon didn't make the flight. I wish I had a dollar for every time he put his hand on my thigh and I removed it. I would have probably been over a hundred dollars richer. I thought about trading places with Sally but that wouldn't do any good because doofus would just take Ray's seat instead of Damon's.

The highlight of the flight was lunch. Not only did I get a respite from handsy-mandsy-Ozzie's hands but the meal was actually quite tasty. I woke up from a dream that Damon and I were making love to find the asshole's hand on my pubis, apparently rotating between my clit and my slit. This time it took both hands to remove his. It actually felt good to get some action down there, but I knew that was fool's gold.

Finally, we were landing in Zurich. Sally and I ended up rooming together. We debated over whether we should wait for the guys in Zurich or St. Moritz, but Ozzie intervened and told us it was bad enough having to change all the guys' reservations, and at least we could enjoy the first day of planned activities in St. Moritz if we stayed with the main group.

In the hotel that night we texted the guys and figured out what had happened. The restroom that Sally and I went to had two exits and we missed the guys because we had left by a different door than the one we entered from. We just didn't think about that being a problem until it was obviously too late to do anything about it. The next day we had a very pleasant ride passing several lakes in and around Zurich and then the even more impressive Lake Lucerne. In the afternoon we rode the amazingly scenic Glacier Express from Andermatt to St. Moritz.

That night we had a wonderful dinner and dancing afterward with the only downer being the ubiquitous presence of Ozzie. I danced with him for three very handsy dances and roped Sally into an early turn in to escape the lecherous clutches of the asshole.

New Year's Eve had great activities. I thought of coming back to enjoy them again with Damon. We had the thrill of a lifetime in the morning riding the Olympic bobsled run. Then the downers began. A horse-drawn sleigh ride to Val Fez marred by the omnipresent hands of the lech Ozzie. At lunch he dropped a real bombshell. A snowslide had blocked the Glacier Express, so that Damon would be spending the night alone in Andermatt instead of with me in St. Moritz.

This was depressing news. I didn't have the energy to fight off the roaming hands and rushing fingers of Ozzie on the sleigh ride back. Before we reached St. Moritz, he had me wet with fingers attacking my private parts. Dinner was served at a table for four with Sally and the lecher. I tried to keep up the appearance that he didn't have his left hand in my panties taking me almost over the top but pulling back at the last minute.

Sally and I decided to stay at the hotel's restaurant for the elaborate and well-publicized New Year's Eve celebration. In addition to being as horny as hell, I was quite tipsy since I had been drinking since dinner. While Sally had a pity dance with one of the regional sales managers, asshole got me off twice by finger fucking me under the table. Finally, at midnight we shared the obligatory kiss with both Sally and I being kissed by our table's resident lecher. The worst part is he had succeeded in completely pulling my panties off while Sally was dancing. Right after the kissing and shouting of the new year in, asshole and I rode the elevator up to his room.

On the elevator, he rubbed his thick organ on my panty less slit. He couldn't immediately penetrate me but stimulated me enough to have an orgasm. It wasn't enough. Once in his room, he stripped me and then nude from the waist down, he pushed and pressed enough against my slit to finally gain entry. He was stretching and creating enough friction against my vaginal walls that when he finally reached my cervix, I came. He then fucked me to a couple of more climaxes before he ejaculated. It wasn't as good as what Damon would have done, but it was worth taking my clothes off for. It was different because of the naughtiness of doing something taboo and because he thoroughly stretched my pussy. Afterward, I hurriedly dressed. Thankfully, I returned to our room while Sally was still in the bathroom. I hoped that she had no clue as to the mischief I had gotten into with the asshole.

Once in the shower, I pondered my situation. Now after twelve years with a truly wonderful man I had cheated on him. There was no justification for my behavior. I decided that my best approach was to pretend it never happened and hopefully survive to have another twelve or so years with my sweetheart Damon, the love of my life. I shouldn't have been surprised that all in all asshole wasn't as good as Damon; still, it did relieve the tension and horniness of going without the night before. None of the dozens of lovers I had had before Damon were any better than Ozzie.

When I got out of the shower, Sally spoke to me, disgustedly, "You fucked the asshole, didn't you!".

She knew me well enough to see through any subterfuge.

I was nailed and I knew it.

I told her, "I let myself get drunk. Please don't tell anyone, and most of all, not Damon."

Her easy perception had cast doubt on my plan to not tell Damon what I had done. After I thought about it a while, I decided that since I wouldn't see Damon until tonight I could probably pull it off.

New Year's At St. Moritz

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