‘Twas the night before Christmas…
Now this is the way to spend Christmas Eve!
The halls - or at least the room - have been decked for Christmas, with a blue spruce spreading its heady scent through the living room. All the light comes from the colored Christmas lights that festoon the tree, and those woven into the garland that hangs in swags on all four walls. You both have a glass of warm mulled wine and Christmas music is on the stereo - loud enough to provide background, not loud enough to be intrusive.
You’re on the couch, snuggled together beneath a warm blanket. Sure, you could have turned up the heat or lit an appropriately cozy fire in the fireplace, but this is a lot more fun! He took off his glasses and set them on the mantel before joining you on the couch; he doesn’t have that defenseless look some people get when they lay their glasses aside - thank God for that!
You’re so close; you might as well be sitting in his lap - which is a distinct possibility later on… You talk about inconsequentials - the weather, the crowds at the stores, the hideous holiday traffic - airy nothings, just there to fill space. You’re building up to more intimate action, and he seems to know it, content to let you get there at your own pace.
You tell him how you took care of your holiday shopping this year and his eyes widen. He grins appreciatively when you tell him you’re giving nothing but gift certificates this year - redeemable at a local adult toy store. The grin grows broader when you sing your racy version of My Favorite Things for him. At the climax, you both laugh lustily and snuggle closer under the blanket.
You decide it’s time to take things to the next level; you surreptitiously undo a few buttons under the blanket - enough to tease him with some cleavage if and when - and then you scoot onto his lap. He folds you in his arms, pulls you closer. You savor for a moment the heightened beat of your heart; then you lean forward and brush his lips with yours. He pulls you back for another, longer kiss, your lips getting to know each other. He’s seemingly in no rush, and he kisses you slowly and thoroughly. With the next kiss, you introduce your tongue to his lips, and he responds in kind - teasing his tongue along the inner surface of your lips, tasting you….
He strokes one hand through the heavy mass of your hair, his nails leaving tingly trails as they trace lightly over your scalp, the back of your neck. You moan into his mouth to encourage him. It’s been a long time since you’ve been with a guy who was willing to take his time, who didn’t try to get you into bed the instant the door closed. He seems sure of himself, but not arrogant, and that confidence is as much a turn-on as anything he might do to you physically.
Your tongues duel lazily… His hands are hot through the thin fabric of your blouse, caressing your back. The lack of straps beneath tells him that you chose not to wear a bra tonight, that what lies full and soft against his chest, separated by two layers of fabric, is all you. Your breathing grows deeper at the thought, and your nipples harden, the fabric over them seeming to tease them unbearably.
You moan softly as his mouth moves to your throat - first just open-mouth kissing - then slow, lingering swipes of his tongue. You pull him tight against you, grinding your breasts into his chest. The friction of the fabric against your nipples is tortuously sweet, yet maddening, too. A part of you wants to lower the blanket, bare your breasts to him. In time…. For now, this feels so good; you don’t want to do anything to cut it short.
His hand is hot as a brand when he lays it alongside your knee. He holds it there - waiting, perhaps, for you to tell him to back off. Your tongue is busy at his throat, or you’d smile at the thought. You move your hips in an apparent striving for comfort, but really just easing your skirt up your thighs, perhaps two or three inches. You’re getting wet, and you want to feel his hand go higher.
You will fuck him tonight; that much is already established. It’s only the when of it that now occupies your mind… that, and the growing heat between your thighs.
You kiss him hard, grinding your ass in his lap, arching your breasts against his chest. You can feel him throbbing beneath you… you raise a hand to unbutton his shirt, and you slip your hand inside to find bare flesh. A nail rakes a nipple, and he hisses in sharply, clutching you tight. You do some hissing yourself when his lips trace the line of your throat - then he bites, hard. You give a little shriek and do the Macarena in his lap. Fuck, that was intense! You’re suddenly dripping wet, and you absolutely can not wait another minute.
You hurriedly undo two more buttons (for a total of five). You throw the blanket back, and your tits are in his face, begging for attention.
He doesn’t disappoint. A hand goes out to squeeze a breast, twisting and tugging at your throbbing nipple; his lips and tongue attack the other - licking, sucking, biting. Your panties are soaked; you slide off his lap and fall to your knees. You unsnap and unzip his jeans, drag them to his knees. His shorts follow in short order, and your fingers encircle his pulsing shaft.
Despite the ache in your pussy, an emptiness that screams to be filled, you manage to go slow. You kiss that delicious eight-inch hunk of meat - hot, open-mouth kisses interspersed with long licks from the base to the head. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting him - damn, you even like the way he tastes! Your hand toys with his balls while you lick his cock like a candy cane. He groans and his hips thrust forward. You kiss and lick his balls, keeping him on the edge. You take him into your mouth, engulfing him smoothly, holding him there and sucking rhythmically. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut, his jaw working. You pull back, raking the shaft lightly with your teeth; then you open your throat and take him deep, swallowing. His hips jerk as you swallow him again, your lips right up against his balls. You’re soooo tempted to suck him until he blasts your mouth full of sweet hot cum, but your pussy needs this dick, and you don’t think you can wait for him to recover, so you promise yourself a taste of him after your own needs are met. You slide reluctantly back until he slips out of your mouth. You stand and let your clothes lie where they fall. He undresses, never taking his eyes from you and you lead him into the bedroom.
You were pretty sure you’d end up in bed with him tonight, so the covers are artfully tousled for effect. His skin against yours is an inferno - or is it your own?
He kisses you deeply, your nipples against his chest. His hands glide down your back to cup your ass, pull you tight against him, his cock hard and erect between you. He takes your hand, gently lowers you to the bed. You expect him to join you, but he drops to his knees between your legs.
He’s down there for so long you begin to wonder if something’s wrong, but then he speaks, his voice hoarse and ragged, yet almost reverent.
“You have the prettiest pussy - “ That’s as far as he gets; his mouth is otherwise occupied, kissing and licking your thighs - but slowly, tenderly. You moan, lost in his touch. His hands move your legs farther apart, spreading you wide while he alternates kissing his way up your thighs. You’re so exposed, so vulnerable - and it’s making you ragingly horny! His tongue finds the crease of your thigh and lingers there… then he moves to the opposite thigh.