The Stocking Was Hung (13 page)

“What are you doing?” I whisper as his hands move to the wrapping paper covering my crotch.

“Unwrapping my present. Shhhhh…”

Resting my hands on the bed, I lean back and watch the gleam in his eyes as he stares at the paper covering me, the gentle
rrrrrrriiiiiiip
of it as he takes his time tearing it away, triggering my blood to heat up and my heart to race.

“You know, most people rip this stuff off as fast as they can,” I suggest as he grabs another corner and slowly tears it away until my bare pussy is on full display for him.

Even though I felt foolish wrapping and taping myself into a sheet of Christmas paper when he requested it, at least I was smart enough to leave the bra and underwear on the bathroom floor. Going by the sharp intake of breath from him, it was a genius idea.

“I’ve never gotten a present before. I want to savor the experience,” he mutters. “Holy shit…this is the best present ever.”

I spread my legs a tiny bit more, feeling bold and confident now that I got my way and my final claps left the bright overhead light off.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles, grabbing what’s left of the wrapping paper that dangles from my chest with both hands and ripping it completely off my body until I’m sitting in front of him fully naked.

“You take my breath away,” he whispers, his palm resting against my stomach and slowly sliding down, the tips of all four of his fingers brushing softly over my bare pussy.

“So smooth and soft,” he whispers, his fingers continuing to almost pet me as he bends forward and presses his lips to my inner thigh.

“Holy hell,” I mutter as he kisses his way up the seam of my leg until he gets to my pussy, his lips giving it the tiniest of kisses before he lifts his head and peers up at me.

“Lie back,” he orders in a low voice, his fingers going back to gently brushing over me until my thighs start to shake with need and excitement.

I immediately allow my arms give out and fall to my back on the bed, my spine arching and a gasp flying out of my mouth when his thumbs part me and I feel his warm breath ghosting across my pussy.

My eyes squeeze closed and my hands clutch the blankets on either side of my body when I feel one of his long fingers make a lazy trail down my center and then back up again, spreading my wetness along the way.

He uses the tip of that one, perfect finger to circle my clit, so soft and gentle that I growl in frustration. I want his mouth on me, I want his fingers inside me, I want everything he has to give me, and I want it
now
.

“Say my name, Noel,” he begs quietly, the pad of his finger lazily trailing back down through my wetness and up to lightly circle my clit again.

“Sam,” I whisper with need. “Oh my God, Sam.”

I hear him growl and before I can take another breath, his mouth is on my body. His hot, wet, perfect lips wrap around my clit and he sucks it into his mouth.

“Fuck!” I shout, my back bowing even more as he brings his thumbs back to spread me open for his oral assault.

His tongue replaces his finger, slowly licking me from top to bottom, stopping at my clit to circle around and around it until I feel like I’m going mad with the need to come. Every inch of my body tingles as he continues to swirl his tongue around my swollen nub, spreading me open as wide as he can with his thumbs.

He licks and he sucks and he devours my pussy, alternating between teasing my clit with the tip of his tongue, to plunging it inside of me, fucking me with it.

I’m hot. I’m wet. I’m a writhing, cursing mess of need on this bed and my hands immediately let go of their grip on the blankets, transferring it to the hair on top of Sam’s head. I slide my fingers through the short length and hold on for dear life when two of his fingers plunge inside me.

I hold his face against my pussy and my hips start to move against his mouth. He tortures me with his tongue against my clit and his fingers curl up inside of me, making me gasp with pleasure and call out his name.

“You taste like heaven,” he breathes, his mouth hovering right against my clit while his fingers continue their slow, torturous movements in and out of me. “Come for me, Noel. I need to feel you come with my mouth on you.”

“Yes, holy shit, yes,” I moan, my hips jerking toward him as he lowers his mouth once again to my pussy and resumes that delicious swirl of his tongue around my clit.

I’m right there on the edge of bliss, the slow pump of his fingers in and out of my body making the tingle and pleasure of my orgasm speed through me like a rocket.

“Let. Me. Feel. You. Come,” he urges me in between swipes of his tongue.

I clutch his hair in my fingers and tug so hard I don’t know how he isn’t screaming in pain as his fingers thrust deep inside me and make my toes curl with pleasure.

“Sam,” I say on a breath. “I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming!”

I feel my pussy pulse, my heart beat centered around that area, enhancing everything until I can do nothing but writhe on the bed and buck my hips against his mouth when he sucks hard on my clit and fucks his fingers into me roughly. My release is never-ending, and I feel like I’m floating in a cloud of orgasm heaven as I continue to move my hips and drag out this feeling for as long as possible.

He holds his fingers deep inside of me and his mouth pressed against my clit as I slowly come down to earth, aftershocks of my orgasm making my hips jerk every few seconds until I finally open my eyes and let go of the death grip I have on his hair.

With one last swipe of his tongue all along the center of my pussy, he sits back on his legs and my arms fall to my sides on the bed.

“Holy shit, do you have a permit for that mouth?” I mutter, my breath puffing out of me like I just ran a marathon.

He laughs and I feel the bed dip when he sits down next to me. I bonelessly roll over to my side as he lies down and wraps his arms around me, pulling me up against his fully-clothed body.

“Best. Present. Ever,” he tells me with a smile.

Sliding my arms around his waist and hooking one leg over his hip, I hug him to me tightly, wishing I could take a picture of
this
moment, frame it and put it on my nightstand.

We stay tangled up together in bed, the only sounds in the room are the muffled voices of visitors outside in my parent’s yard as they show up in droves to take a walk through the light display.

I want to tell him to never leave. I want to tell him this stupid charade stopped being a charade the moment he kissed me under the pot mistletoe. I want to ask him if he’ll be my boyfriend for real and not for a fake show for my family.

I want so many things that I’m just too fucking afraid to ask for. Things I’ve never wanted in my entire life, but suddenly can’t stop thinking about with my face pressed up against his chest while I breathe him in.

Marriage. Love. Forever.

“Psssssssst. Hey, you guys want some Ecstasy?”

The knock and whisper of Aunt Bobbie at my door again kills the mood and brings me back to the real world where this is all for show and Sam will be walking away from me in just two days.

“Aunt Bobbie, you already asked us that and the answer is still no!” I shout to her, my face still buried against Sam’s chest.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” she replies through the door. “Forget I asked you that. I think I already took all of it. Wow, the lights in the hallway are so flashy and pretty. Ooooooh, hello, little squirrel, do you want some vodka? What a pretty sweater you’re wearing. Do I want to sing a song with you? Of course I want to sing a song with you, sweater squirrel! You’re so pretty and soft and pretty.”

Aunt Bobbie’s voice trails off as she walks away from the door, the opening line of Silent Night in her horrible, off-key singing voice echoing down the hall. I close my eyes and savor the vibration of Sam’s laughter against my cheek.

“DON’T BITE ME, SWEATER SQUIRREL! HOW DARE YOU TELL ME I CAN’T SING!”

Sam pulls back from me and our eyes meet.

“Should we go down there and make sure she doesn’t light the tree on fire or trash the place?” he asks.

I sigh and nod my head. “Yeah, that’s probably a wise decision.”

Just then, we hear a crash from downstairs, both of us jumping up from the bed as fast as possible, Sam heading for the door while I scramble to throw on clothes.

“IT’S OKAY! EVERYTHING IS FINE! SWEATER SQUIRREL AND I ARE JUST GOING TO HAVE SOME TEA WITH MR. POLAR BEAR!” Aunt Bobbie shouts up to us.

So much for having a little more time to enjoy my temporary bliss.

Sam

“N
oel, I think
we should talk about what’s going to happen after tomorrow.”

“Noel, I’d like to be your boyfriend. Like, for real. For really-real.”

“Jesus, I suck at this shit,” I mutter to myself after staring in the mirror for ten minutes and practicing what I want to say to her.

After I unwrapped the best present in the world last night and Noel and I managed to put out the small fire under the tree when Aunt Bobbie thought her imaginary squirrel and polar bear needed something to keep them warm, we hung out with her family when the visitors all left and waited to find out the judging of the lighting contest.

Just as everyone thought, Reggie won by a landslide and has been carrying his little trophy with a gold Christmas tree on top of it all around the house since then. And miracle of all miracles, Noel let me sleep in the bed with her last night.

Which brings me to my current problem. Getting an excellent blow job and giving her two orgasms started me on the path to completely falling for her. Sleeping all night with her wrapped up in my arms made me realize I am one hundred percent in love with this woman. I want to hold her every night, I want to wake up to her every morning, and I don’t even care if her crazy family comes as a package deal. I want it all. The good, the bad, the crazy, and the messy. I just want her, however I can get her. If she doesn’t want marriage, fine. I will be perfectly content to just have her with me, by my side for the rest of my life.

God, I am such a pussy.

I finish getting ready, throwing on the one pair of black dress pants I had in my duffle and the dark red, button down shirt Noel picked out for me when we were at the mall and join everyone downstairs for Christmas Eve dinner.

The dining room table is covered in a red tablecloth with holly leaves stitched down the center, a large red poinsettia plant stands tall in the middle surrounded by green and red candles in glass jars. Christmas music plays faintly from the living room while everyone sits back in their chairs with full stomachs and smiles on their faces. Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie—my mouth waters all over again even though I’m so full someone might have to roll me out of this room and carry me up to bed.

As the soft hum of conversation floats around the table, I glance at Noel sitting beside me, laughing at something her brother said and my heart thumps faster in my chest.

She’s so fucking beautiful when she smiles.

Her head suddenly turns and her eyes meet mine, her smile turning up a few more notches.

“Don’t get any ideas, mister. This magical dress is staying on until everyone goes to bed,” she whispers under her breath.

I glance at that green dress, the one that molds her body perfectly and made me so hard when she first came out of the dressing room wearing it that I acted like a cave man and shoved her back inside so I could touch her.

“So, Leon, you haven’t said anything about work since you’ve been here. How’s it going?” her father asks.

Noel coughs uncomfortably and quickly picks up her glass of wine to take a sip.

“Fine. Good. It’s fine,” she rushes the words out, setting her wine glass back on the table.

“Can we talk about what’s really important?” her mother speaks. “When are you two getting married? I mean, a year is a long time. Longer than you’ve ever dated anyone, honey. What’s the hold-up, Logan?”

Her eyes narrow on me from across the table and I shift uncomfortably in my seat while Nicholas covers his mouth to hide his smile.

“Mom, seriously,” Noel complains.

“Seriously what? I’m just asking a simple question. I thought we’d be planning a wedding while you were home,” her mother complains with a sigh.

“Come on, Mom, leave her alone,” Nicholas says, finally sticking up for his sister and moving up a few notches on my “favorite person” chart.

“I just want both my children to be happy, is that too much to ask? I’m going to die soon.”

Everyone’s heads whip toward Bev in shock.

“Mom! Are you sick?” Noel asks in a scared whisper.

“Well, no, not at this moment. But I could get sick. And I could die. I could die without ever seeing my daughter settle down and be happily married,” she replies in a huff.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nicholas mutters, picking up his own wine glass and downing the entire thing.

“How about everyone just stop worrying about Noel and let her figure things out on her own?” I suggest.

Reggie points his finger at me angrily. “You defiled Santa’s Workshop. Your opinion is invalid!”