She fucking hated Christmas.
She hated the constant barrage of carols, the fakery, the fatty food, the silent pressure to spend as much money as possible so friends and family didn’t think she didn’t care. She turned for the thousandth time on her narrow childhood bed. Her parents had offered her the queen sofa bed in the den, but why even sleep there? She was alone yet again. The neighbor’s yearly Christmas display lit up her room in multicolored flashes.
Baby Jesus signed a deal with the Waltons. He’s gonna make a killing…
She couldn’t get back to sleep so she plodded into the kitchen for some water. She looked in the cabinet where the glasses usually were, but instead there were spices and teas. Fuck it. She drank straight from the sink. Ice cold water ran down her chest and made her nipples hard. Goosebumps made the translucent hairs at the backs of her thighs stand on end.
She turned off the faucet and sighed deeply. She was still on tiptoe, belly pressed against the lip of the sink. The way her back was arched made her body react. She let the cool air crawl up between her naked thighs and temper the sudden heat between them. She looked out the kitchen window and into the relative dark of the backyard. The sentinel pines waved in the wind, and the stars were especially bright in the clear winter sky…
She heard soft breathing and smiled. Dex.
“Where’s my beautiful boy? Where is he?” she whispered, crouching in the dark. She expected her parent’s dog to jump into her arms and lick her face, but there was only silence. Strange.
As she stood up her panties wedged between the lips of her pussy. When she reached in between her legs to pluck them out, they were wet. It was late and she was at her parent’s house for the holidays…she was a grown woman, but it still felt sacrilegious to be horny there.
Again, she heard a soft sigh coming from the dining room. She rolled her eyes. Her younger brother must be trying to play a trick on her like he used to when they all lived there.
“You’re not clever,” she whispered as she walked into the dining room. There was a hunched form crouching in the dark by the doorway into the kitchen, and she kicked it. “Asshole,” she said, smiling at her own cleverness. Instead of hearing her brother’s laugh, she heard a soft grunt. A pale head bobbed, and an unfamiliar man stood up, wearing just a pair of flannel boxers. Panic made the room bright, but he slapped his broad palm over her mouth just before she could scream. He pressed her up against the wall.
“Relax. I’m here with your brother.” Her chest rose and fell quickly with her fear. His face was kissing distance from hers, and his eyes were so hot they made the tops of her cheeks tingle. “I’m his roommate. I’m spending the holidays with your family.”
She tried to think. Her mother had mentioned something about her brother bringing a friend… she went limp and he removed the hand over her mouth. She pulled self-consciously at her camisole as if she could cover her nakedness by sheer force of will.
“Sorry for kicking you,” she said.
“I practice martial arts. I’m fine.” He didn’t step back.
His palm had been slick with something, and without thinking she licked at her lips. The scent and flavor of it made something deep in her belly lurch. It hadn’t been sweat, or a least, not only sweat. He looked ghostly in the moonlight, just a suggestion of his true form. He was lean, and his hips were narrower than hers. His belly was tight, his arms all lithe muscle. His thin face was intense, and his feline eyes glowed in the dark.
She usually went for tall, dark, and handsome. And older. This boy could not be older than her brother, who was nineteen. Yet she stayed.
“What were you doing crouched by the doorway like that?”
His body language changed. “I came down for a drink, like you.” The dark line of hair running from his belly button and into his boxers was distracting. As her eyes traveled downward, they widened.
“Liar. You’re disgusting.” She tried to walk away, but his arm shot out to stop her.
“I’m telling the truth. When I saw how you were dressed… I didn’t want to intrude.” He saw planes of her face rearrange and his other arm shot out. “Don’t be angry. I can’t help it. I didn’t want to meet you like this… don’t tell your brother.” His voice cracked youthfully.
He was just a horny kid. He’d committed no crime.
“How did you want to meet me?”
He looked away. The strong line of his jaw was beautiful although she couldn’t see the particulars. She got the urge to giggle. It felt like the set up for a cheap porno, but she was curious. And really, really horny.
“Well?” she asked.
He took a step forward as he turned back to her, and his warmth echoed her own. He smelled like boy – a mix of clean laundry, sweetness, and that intense hit of pheromones that seem to fade by 25. Her toes gripped the wood floor.
“I, uh, I saw your photograph on your brother’s laptop and I thought you were pretty-”
“Were?” Her smile widened enough for her white teeth to glow at him.
“No, of course not – I mean, are…you are pretty. Hot.”
The sensation she’d gotten while arching over the sink came back. She wanted someone bent over her, filling the concave space at the base of her spine. Could he see?
“How long have you been here?” She looked toward the sink, then back at him. The soft fabric of his boxers grazed her smooth belly.
“I saw you drinking from the sink. Not a fan of glasses, are you?” He’d seen everything. Did he know, or was he still naive about such things?
“Why use one? I’ve got two perfectly good hands.” She wiggled her fingers near his face, and he leaned forward until his face was in her hands. His cheeks were both bristly and soft. His skin was hot. She let him go, but didn’t move. She tried to look into his eyes, but all she could see is a fevered glow coming from the ghostly planes of his face. His lips glistened with wetness, and the scent of his clean breath made the roof of her mouth tingle.
“I saw you calling for the dog… and when you got up.” His nose caressed hers he was so close. He gave off such a strong energy that her hair stood on end again, even though she was not cold. She softly ran her fingernails down his belly and scratched at the silky hair beneath his belly button. He sighed into her face.
“And what?” Her voice had acquired a roughness that only came with genuine arousal. Could he hear?
“You…your…I saw you. Your breasts. I’m sorry.” His skin burned against hers – she had never felt such heat. She guided his hand underneath her camisole to her breast. Her head was spinning – she couldn’t believe she was doing it – but she craved warmth and an older man’s heat was tempered by experience. He moaned as she guided him into pinching her nipple and squeezing the firm flesh.
“How are you at keeping secrets?” She pulled him into a corner of the dining room where they would hear someone coming with plenty of time. She put her hands on his hips and felt hard muscle. Hard everything. Ah, he was no boy… his cock pulsed, and the softness underneath pressed against her mound.
Her parents were upstairs, he was her brother’s roommate and she didn’t even know his name, yet she still pressed herself against him until he shivered.
His lips grazed her cheekbone. “Pretty good.”
She caressed his ass cheeks. The hair was still so silky it almost made her feel guilty. Almost. She spread her legs and he touched her mound over her panties. His fingers trembled, but he still traced her slit and stopped at the top, where her clit was hot and hard. She’d soaked through the flimsy panties. Could he smell it?
His lips found hers and he pulled her panties down. She ground her hips into his as he buried his middle finger between her lips and rubbed her clit. His tongue pierced through her lips and into her mouth. When he lightly pinched her clit between two fingers and rubbed rhythmically, her groan was mercifully stifled. She was so wet his hand slid easy between her thighs. She tried to pull her panties down all the way, but he got on his knees in front of her and pulled her panties back up. He kept pulling until the crotch was swallowed up by her swollen pussy.
“Silly, what are you doing?” She sounded drunk.
He tugged at her panties so they rubbed against her just right. The cloth was slippery and hot with her juices. She spread her legs and moved her hips to the rhythm he established, curious to know what he got from it.
“It looks so fucking delicious,” he said as she moved her hips close to his face. He rubbed his preternaturally hot lips against hers and licked the cloth wedged between them. “A perfect tease.”
She ran her fingers through his hair. “Try me. Give it a lick.” He pulled the cloth aside and slid his tongue in her slit. His upper lip rubbed her clit as his tongue opened her up, and he groaned softly into her. The sensations made her curse. She tugged at his shoulders, and he reluctantly stood up. “Come with me.” She guided him back into the dark kitchen, by the sink. She finally pulled off his boxers and his cock stood at perfect attention. It seemed to glow against the dark hollows of his groin.
The fat bellhead made her sigh – not *all* of him was so slim. He moved to lift her onto the rim of the sink, but she shook her head. She turned toward the sink and arched. “I want you like this.”
Without a word he put his hands on her hips and entered her. He slid inside her inch by inch so she’d feel his fatness parting her. He was so big it ached at first, a sensation she hadn’t felt since she herself was a teenager. His breath was soft on her shoulder blades as he worked his cock back and forth, ever so slowly, until he was all the way in. A spaghetti strap drooped and her breasts popped out. She wanted his hands everywhere – on her nipples, in her mouth, on her clit, in her ass. She felt every inch of her skin.
Her lust made her want to growl at him, but she didn’t want to put him off. The edge of the counter rubbed against her lower belly in a magical way that her feel like his cock rubbed every sweet spot inside her. His narrow hips pressed hard into her ass with each thrust, and their soft chuffing breaths were barely louder than the sound of the wind. She wanted to look at his face but she liked the fact she didn’t know exactly what he looked like… he was showing her what was most important. Her eyes focused on the crescent moon as he fucked her hard enough for his balls to slap her.
“Touch me…my-” He lifted her leg on the counter and thrust even more deeply into her. His tight balls actually rubbed her clit more completely than his trembling fingers would’ve. He began to grunt very softly into her shoulder. She wanted to kiss him, feel the vibrations from his throat on her tongue but the head of his cock was cradled in the very depths of her belly and she didn’t want to stop the feeling.
He felt so good she might’ve said his name, but she didn’t know it. That simple thought in the midst of her pleasure made her laugh out loud.
“Shh!” He put his hand over her mouth. She sucked his salty precum-stained fingers and hiccupped even as his thrusts got deep enough to multiply the moon outside the window. Her toes curled on the counter as she came with his fingers still in her mouth to shut up her groans. He turned her around and lifted her onto the counter. That angle was even more fantastic, and she hugged his shoulders as her orgasm intensified. She sucked on the skin of his neck, licking his sweetness off as he pressed his mouth near her ear so she could hear his pleasure.
“I want you to come…” She whispered. Although her blood roared in her ears, the loudest sound they made in the kitchen was the wet sounds of his thrusts. Her thighs tightened around his hips. “Fuck me. Fill me up.” His muscles tightened. “That’s right. Show me how good my pussy feels.” He groaned and licked her earlobe. She was getting tighter with her eagerness. His intense heat was penetrating to her insides, melting her inhibition. “Wait. I want to feel that fat cockhead throb on my tongue, I want to taste you.”
He pulled out and she fell to her knees. The sharp smell of her own orgasm made her smirk as she rubbed his wet cock on her lips. He almost burned her lips. She took the base of his cock in her fist and pumped while looking up at him. His lips were parted, but still, she couldn’t see his whole face. She sucked and licked feverishly at his head as her pussy dripped onto the linoleum. She fondled his balls gently as she sucked – still so tight and silky – and he caressed her face.
If her brother found out, she was going to get in so much trouble…
His breath grew short and he pushed deeper into her mouth. Ah, that sweet sound was enough to make her squirt on the linoleum! The head of his cock pulsed on the roof of her mouth as he spurted and her senses were overwhelmed with his youthful musk. She cradled his balls, sucked lightly and swallowed until his spasms stopped. She swore she could feel his heat move down her throat and settle in her belly.
She woke with a smile.
Before she showered, she scrutinized her face in the bathroom mirror. She was glowing like she hadn’t in a while, and her hair was tousled so elegantly she didn’t want to comb it. Her camisole had a couple of spots where his come had dried as it dripped from her lips. How Monica Lewinsky… she was so cheerful she wasn’t even grossed out. She wondered whether he had woken as happy as she.
She leaned into the mirror and noticed a streak of crimson on her jaw. When she rubbed at it with a wet finger, it flaked off.
She was wet again. She washed slowly, pointing the detachable showerhead on her hard nipples, then between her legs. It took all her willpower not to moan as she tasted the echo of his musk on her lips.
She put on some makeup and combed her hair into a bun – she didn’t want to look like she’d just been good and fucked. There were butterflies in her stomach as she descended the stairs. The house smelled of spices and coffee, and her brother’s raucous laughs drifted in from the dining room along with another young man’s voice. Him. Pots and pans rattled in the kitchen, where her mother worked on Christmas Eve brunch with her dad.
“Finally! La Bella Durmiente* decided to join us for breakfast,” her brother yelled to her mom. He nudged his friend in the ribcage. “My sister, Rosalia.”
He stood up. “Hello…Cillian.” His green eyes danced as he extended his hand for her to shake. He had a fresh band-aid on his index finger – it had been his blood on her jaw. She must’ve bitten him when she came. When they touched, the memory of him made her knees frighteningly weak. She was covered in a fine sheen of sweat she hoped her brother would not notice. His wavy reddish-blonde hair was combed neatly, and he wore a turtleneck sweater to cover up the hickies she’d given him. There was a spray of freckles across the bridge of his aquiline nose, and his broad forehead was lineless and pale.
His mouth widened into a wicked grin. “Nice to finally meet you.” As she looked him up and down, she saw her soiled panties making a slight lump in the pocket of his jeans. Oops.
He couldn’t be less her type, but her pussy still throbbed. She wanted more. She wanted the freedom to sweat and scream as he thrust his way into her. She wanted to feel that pretty red head between her legs again, licking. He didn’t let go of her hand.
Her mother yelled from the kitchen. “Rosey, honey? Could you get me a couple quarts of heavy cream and a dozen eggs from the market? I’ve run out and I have to make the eggnog for the Christmas party. Take your father’s SUV, it’s icy this morning.”
“Okay, mami,” she yelled back. She couldn’t look away from him.
Her brother stood and laughed at her. “Ba ha. You’ll be out for at least a couple hours.” He turned to Cillian. “Let’s go downstairs, man. I brought the Xbox.” He headed down the stairs to the basement without looking back.
“I’ll be down…” Cillian said. He closed the door quietly and walked out after her.
* La Bella Durmiente: Sleeping Beauty