"Perfect! Santa and Mrs Claus just got on down the bottom!" Ivy said.
Holly remained resolutely facing backwards, steadying herself on the handrail of the descending escalators while adjusting the wings of her angel costume. Heels as high as theirs were hard enough to balance in even before the hash brownies they’d shared at the party. The vibrator humming in her cunt didn’t help, either.
"Ho ho, you ho. I'm twenty-five, not five."
"Not the real one. Some poor sod in a red suit who's spent all day listening to little brats, although the beard and bubble-gut look genuine. It’ll be his Christmas treat."
"And 'Mrs Claus'?"
"Posh lady in her fifties. Probably his wife."
"Won't that spoil his 'treat'?"
"Nah, she'll fuck him senseless at home to prove he doesn't need two young, slutty brunettes dressed as angels. Get ready."
"I'm not sure, Vee." Holly’s fingers tightened on the hem of her top just the same. Each lipstick letter beneath sent sparks straight to her clit with their promise of unknown humiliation, leaving her unsure if she loved or hated her friend for suggesting this dare. "There's really only two?"
"Promise. Together, remember? Three, two, one—"
"Merry Christmas!" Both women bared their breasts, adorned with messages they'd written on each other just as the couple passed them on the opposite escalators. Holly froze in recognition as 'Mrs Claus' raised her phone, and there was a flash of a different kind.
"Merry Christmas, Holly and friend," she called as they moved apart. "Wait down there if you want it to stay merry."
"Oh fuck." Holly pulled her top down.
"Huh? How does she know your name?"
"That's Carol. My manager."
"Oh." The pair dismounted in silence, before Ivy added, "Fuck."
An eternity passed as they watched their erstwhile victims follow them down. The evil glee on their faces did not reassure them.
“So, Holly, this is why you couldn’t come to work tonight?”
Holly looked at her shoes as a trickle of late-night passengers disembarked onto the platform behind them.
“Since it’s the season of good will,” Caroline said, lifting Holly’s chin to force eye-contact, “I won’t fire you, if you prove that bold claim on your chest before the next train arrives.”
“Prove—” Ivy’s cheeks turned beetroot when their eyes met. “What the fuck did you write on me?”
Carol’s cackle turned the heads of the last group leaving the platform.
“Oh, you don’t know! Here, lift your top.” After checking for witnesses, Holly obeyed. Caroline traced each letter with a festively painted nail. “‘Deepthroat Queen’. Not a skill I care to master, but I enjoy watching.”
Holly stared, slack-jawed, her mind a fog of edged-out horniness.
“I think you’ve met my husband, Emmanuel. Hurry, that board says you’ve got seven minutes.”
Letting her libido take over, Holly sank to her knees. The big man in red took his wife’s place, rosy cheeks dimpled with a dirty grin as he dropped his trousers. Her fingers brushed his bulging belly when she tugged his y-fronts down, then she gasped at the size of what she’d released.
“Fuck, Hol, you’ll be spending Christmas jobhunting!” Ivy exclaimed.
“She won’t be alone. Indecent exposure isn’t usually acceptable behaviour for teachers.” Caroline held up Ivy’s LinkedIn profile on her phone.
“You wouldn’t!”
“No? Fine, don’t help your friend in her remaining six minutes of employment.”
In a heartbeat, Ivy crouched by Holly as the latter bobbed and slurped on the hard cock.
“That’s it, you’re half-way there!”
“Five minutes.” Caroline joined them for a closer look, one hand unashamedly in her knickers.
“He’s too thick,” Holly gasped after gagging for the eighth time, strands of saliva dangling from her lips. “You’ll have to force me down.”
“Really? No job’s worth injuring yourself.”
“Fuck the job, I’ve got a throne to claim! I just need a little push.”
“Well, OK.” Ivy gripped both her pigtails. “Ready?”
“Uh-huh,” came the wide-mouthed reply. Ivy pushed her onto the glistening pole with a wet gulping sound. She pushed harder, until her friend’s throat stopped resisting the head and another inch of his shaft disappeared inside. Holly’s eyes watered, disproving her eyeliner’s waterproof claims, but offered no protest, so Ivy continued until her friend’s nose pressed into Santa’s pubes.
“Good work, girls!” the hitherto silent husband growled.
“Don’t raise their hopes,” Caroline said. “There’s only three minutes left.”
Holly whined, so Ivy relaxed her grip to let her breathe. The instant the tip exited her throat, Holly threw herself forwards again, so Ivy shoved her back down and then yanked her back as soon as she’d reached the base. Together they built up a rhythm, watched in awe by Emmanuel. When his jaw trembled, they increased their pace as much as Holly’s throat would allow, ignoring the carol his wife had started humming.
Ivy’s heart sank when screeching brakes drowned out the echoing squelches of throat on cock, but her friend wasn’t done. With a final, desperate lunge, she swallowed Emmanuel’s dick, twisting her head from side to side. His face contorted, and he hugged both women’s heads tight as he unloaded his balls. Ivy twisted Holly’s pigtails in triumph, eliciting a muffled squeal. They fell back when Emmanuel released them, his cock escaping from Holly’s lips and rewarding them with a streak of cum each.
They scrambled to their feet as the train pulled into the station. Seeing Holly too dazed to cover herself, Ivy pulled her close, shielding her friend’s naked breasts. To her surprise, Holly kissed her, oblivious to the passing strangers. Once the footsteps receded, their lips parted, and they giggled at the mess plastering their cheeks.
“That’s so hot.”
Both spun to face the newcomer — a tall, bespectacled student, judging from his clothes.
“What are you staring at?”
“Play nice,” Caroline said. “This young man might help test Ivy’s claim. Especially if he has some friends he can call.”
“My claim— Hol! What the fuck did you write on me?”
