Mistletoe*
I felt his arms wrap around my waist, a safe and somewhat demanding presence. Mid-motion, he pulled me back toward him. I chuckled. His antics tonight had been over the top. Perhaps it had been the champagne or the announcement of his promotion?
Whatever the case, the air seemed lighter. Tonight, I could believe in Santa Claus. I tumbled into his lap and let go of all of our worries. Celebration filled the evening.
“I love you.” His face expanded into a smile. His eyes lifted up.
I couldn’t help but follow his gaze. A beautiful bunch of mistletoe dangled above us. Always the rebel, my husband chose the variety with the small white berries rather than opting for the more traditional red.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and stared into his eyes. His face glowed with a lightheartedness that had been missing for ages. He seemed ten years younger.
My chest filled. My eyes teared. I brushed my fingers on the stubble of his 5 o’clock shadow. This is the man I choose.
“Ehhem.” He cleared his throat. His arm swayed. His focus guided me toward the mistletoe above us.
I leaned forward. We kissed. Too long.
The softness of his lips contrasted sharply with the prickle of his cheeks. My body tingled with anticipation and excitement. His mouth overcame mine. I succumbed to sweet agony.
Keeping one arm around his neck, I dropped the other down his back and around to his chest. I needed to be closer to him. I slipped my palm under his open shirt collar. The beat of my heart sped to match the hunger in his kiss.
“Sweetheart,” he almost breathed the words.
“Yes.”
His arms tightened. Cool air slipped between us. He rose from the chair.
I giggled and rested my head against his chest. The kitchen faded from my view. Our Christmas Tree stood tall in the living room with lights aglow. Blue and silver decorations appeared elegant and magical.
His approach softened. Tenderly, he pulled my lower lip between his, nibbling and sucking.
I ran my hand through his hair and reached for his ear lobe.
He laid me softly on the couch. Our kiss deepened. His fingers began at my breastbone and fanned out, massaging and caressing.
“Hmm.” I sunk into the couch. His lips; his touch; his attention overwhelmed me.
“Do you like that?” he whispered as he slowly unbuttoned my shirt. His lips fluttered down my neck, each touch sending visions of sugarplums dancing in my head.
I ran my fingers down his back and chest and returned the favor. I slipped button after button from their buttonholes. The strength in his arms and back distracted me. Even the slightest movement rippled across his muscles as he touched me.
I felt like a doll in his arms as he shimmied behind me and unfastened my bra. His lips swept across my shoulders and down, gently waking my skin. He stared into my eyes and planted chaste kisses across my chest.
I stared, riveted by his actions. The feel of his touch focused on me, the visual wantonness heightened my desire.
His fingers worked underneath the fabric of my bra. My breasts released. His mouth continued to explore. His tongue circled my areola. His palm kneaded my breast. He moved from one nipple to the other, pulling and licking.
I arched to meet him. My pussy throbbed with impatience. With one hand I urged his mouth to mine, with the other I reached for his cock.
He slipped out of my grasp. His hands caressed my thighs and ass. Moving lower, he asked, “Have you been naughty or nice?”
He tugged at the material still covering me. Holding me close, he reached around and pulled the zipper down. His open mouth lay siege to my obliques and abs.
He jerked my skirt over my hips.
“Ohh.” I moaned and writhed against the couch. The wool slid down my legs.
He massaged my inner thighs. His teeth nipped at my panties. His hot breath teased me.
I reached for the couch, my fingers tightened on the frame. “I want you.”
His mouth and tongue brushed kisses along my inner thighs, showering me with sparks of excitement. He covered my pussy with his face and hummed.
The surprise and pleasure made me jump. The subtle vibrations left me aching for more.
His tongue traced the outline of my panties. His hand caressed me. Soft warmth lapped up and down my lips. I tried to follow him but he kept moving. His fingers played with the flimsy material, tormenting me with just the tip.
His eyes widened and he made biting motions – sexy almost comical looking.
Apprehension tinged at my desire. Fuck it. “Come here.” I pulled him into me.
He nibbled and nipped.
A pleasant warmth radiated through me.
He grasped my panties with his teeth and slid them to the floor. He looked so hot in that moment.
“I need you.”
He massaged and kissed my calves and thighs, slowly making his way up from the floor. Each kiss a tiny torture. His mouth hovered in my inner thighs. His lips barely grazed me. His tongue stroked leisurely back and forth.
I moved.
“Oh,”
His whole mouth covered me.
“Yeah…”
He pulsed. This sweet, savory sensation that felt divine.
“Oh.”
He savored me like a delicacy. His tongue explored me. His finger brought me ever closer.
Waves began to build and drown out all of my thoughts.
I tried to stay with it. Stay there. Focus on the feeling. Almost, there.
“Ahh.”
My grip tightened. It was just there. I followed the sensation. “Honey.” Almost got it. “What were you doing?” I tried to stay still. I held onto the couch. There it was again. “Oh baby, I’m so close.”
I urged his head this way and that.
I jumped.
“Oh baby.” I moaned and twisted. “It’s right, right….” Pleasure shot through me. His mouth sucked ever so gently. His tongue dove into me. His finger hit that spot.
My grip tightened on the couch. I struggled to guide his head.
“Oh, yes.” I bucked against his face.
“Oh, more.” Pleasure radiated through me.
I rode his mouth and tongue, holding tight. “Oh Baby.” The sensations within me welled up and overcame my sensations. I grew rigid, pleasure building.
“Don’t stop.” I stayed with his movements, followed his motions as everything grew brighter. The lights twinkled. The decorations sparkled. My senses heightened. My body ready.
His touch, his mouth, his movements sent me spiraling.
My cries crested. “Ohh,” became the longest syllable. I dissolved in that moment. No more him and I, just us experiencing the universe as one.
His tongue slowed to its leisurely pace. My hips stilled.
I want more.
I stood, took his hand and led him up the steps.
Merry Christmas to me…..
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Looking for more treats in the bedroom? Try scripting your fantasy. Thinking about a gift for him (and well, her too) try a cock ring on for size. Take advantage of the holiday season and bring more merry into your lives!
* Copyright ©2017 Ginger Segreti. All rights, including electronic, reserved by the author. Do not reproduce in any form without the author’s express permission.