by Kira Blakely
“Shh,” I say. “That’s perfect.”
I grasp the tip of her ribbon—the one sitting so pretty on her sprig of golden pubic hair—and pull, unwinding the bow until it falls away and I’m left peering into that soft, curly bush.
I want to bury my face in her. My pants are wet with pre-cum. My cock has more blood in it than my brain or my heart right now, and I lower my face down, down, down, pulling in a deep breath of her pussy, like she’s a fine fucking wine.
Rose gasps and shifts toward me, then away, probably startled by the way I almost buried myself against her bush. It’s so beautiful, I can’t resist. How does it smell like fucking vanilla?
I firmly pry her knees apart, and now she’s sitting with them open, her hips resting on her heels. It’s a strong stance, unlike the way women usually take a good tonguing, and I think it’ll give her some more control and make her feel comfortable. Gives me one hell of a view, too. Lots of… access.
First, though, I just stare. I enjoy the view. I don’t want to rush this.
Rose’s thighs are spread for me at a 130-degree angle, highlighting that hot pink gash between her legs, fucking dewy in the Christmas lights. God, I want her. I want her like I’ve never wanted anything before.
“Oh, Rose,” I murmur to her, pressing myself flat to the coffee table so that my face is almost pressed into that pussy. The heat wafts off of her and my hand snakes into my pants and squeezes my cock to give him some tiny sense of relief. Because I want to wait, as hard as that is going to be. I want her sweet juices coursing down my chin before my zipper comes down.
Because she’s the gift. She’s worth it.
“Are you ready, Rose?” I whisper, my warm breath tickling against her swollen lips and her perky little clit. I know she’s ready. She’s ready, and when she feels my breath on her skin, her hips rock forward slightly. She wants me. Her body can’t hide it.
“I’m ready.” Her voice is almost choked, and she rocks forward again, urging me to taste her.
She must be so tired of waiting. She’s been ready for a man for so long but she had to wait for the right one. For me.
I can wait, too. For the perfect second. The perfect flick of my tongue.
I extend my tongue and give one quick flick up her pink strip, hitting that rigid clit and then retract it into my mouth. I clamp my jaw shut and tamp down a moan, eyes rolling at the sweetness of her taste. I could eat her all night for no reason at all.
“Let’s start,” I rasp and flick her cunt again. “Here we go.”
Chapter Four
Rose
I can’t see anything but the sensation of his breath on my pussy is enough to drive me wild and set my skin on fire. Then I feel this sharp, soft wetness skim over me, even hitting that little button where all the magic happens, and my hips jerk responsively. I gasp. That was it. He’s going to make me come. He’ll be the first man to make me come.
He must be using his tongue down there. I can’t think of anything else that would be so wet... except for me, of course.
I feel it again. That hard yet soft flick, all the way up my slit and teasing lightly on my clit. I hump forward, and he draws back again.
“Be patient,” Stuart rasps, and I steady myself. I can be patient. “Go slow,” he breathes against my pussy. “Don’t be nervous. Don’t be scared. Just... go... slow.” That sharp point on the tip of his tongue travels up my trim again but this time, it goes hard and slow, connecting with every nerve ending I’ve got. When he reaches my clit, it isn’t just a flick this time. This time, he wraps his luscious lips around my nub and gives it a slow, soulful suck.
My mouth falls open, and my neck falls back. My thighs spread wider, encouraging more, and I hump against his mouth, silently pleading for him to take me all the way, all the way right now, even though he just said that we should go slow. I don’t want to go slow anymore. I want to come all over his perfect face.
He leaves my pussy again and then returns, tongue slithering up between my pussy lips and then suckling my button. This time, though, I can’t bear to let him break away and leave me in the open air again. My fingers drive through his thick hair and press his mouth between my legs, trying to force him to stay put, and I grind softly on him.
Stuart only allows this for one sheer second. He doesn’t stop eating me out but he does reach back around his head and grab my wrists, yanking them free from him and pulling them behind my back. Now my body is even more exposed and defenseless.
“If you can’t behave yourself,” Stuart commands me, “then I’m going to have to make sure that you do.”
With that, he grasps the loose ribbon still shrugged over my body and unravels it completely.
I’m totally nude and the ribbon gets looped around my kneecaps, then bound to my wrists behind my back. I can’t move my hands or my thighs. My thighs are trapped in a wide spread, and I can’t shield my body with my arms in any way. My tits are out there, waiting for his mouth, and so is my pussy. Completely exposed.
Stuart latches his mouth over my clit and tongues me, just the way I wanted him to before. I hump against his mouth, eyes and head rolling around as he takes me.
With so much attention on my clit, I come in a deluge almost instantly, probably soaking his face with my juices. I want to be sorry for any mess I just created but I’m not. I’m not sorry at all.
“Oh, this is perfect,” he says, coming away from my pussy to talk. “I’m going to lay you on your stomach now.”
I want to be scared of final penetration but my entire body is too hot and loose from that hard orgasm I just had. When he gently settles me onto my stomach, breasts pressed hard to the cool wood and thighs still spread, still tied to my wrists with that ribbon, it only feels... right.
Stuart’s rough fingers rove my ass adoringly. “Beautiful,” he says. His fingertips drift down over the fleshy cusp of my ass and find my waiting slit and juicy hole. He slides in with one and gives it a tender test pump. I whimper, and when his finger comes back, it brings another finger with it. “I thought you might be too tight or too dry and I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says, exhaling hard, like he’s about to be dizzy, “but you’re very wet.” I hear him suck on his own finger, and then I feel something new... something I’ve never felt before.
It’s hard as a rock, yet soft and smooth. Skin. And it’s as hot and thick.
Oh, my god. It’s his cock.
I feel the detail on his mushroom tip as it slowly nudges past my drooling lips. “There we go,” he says. My hole quivers and stretches around his girth and it pops through. The twinge of my cherry being lost forever rocks me but I’m relieved. I wanted this. I wanted exactly this for so long, and I wouldn’t let myself see it.
His cock slides further in, going slowly, allowing me to acclimate to him inch by inch.
It seems like we do this forever but it probably only takes about forty-five seconds until his full length is inside me, his hips flush against my ass, the base of his cock meeting my pussy lips.
He drags himself almost fully out of me—only the tip remains—and then shoves himself back inside, one fluid motion this time. I shriek, and my body stiffens with surprise. I want to say that it hurt and that was why I screamed but my scream is truly one of shock. His dick inside me feels so good, even when it’s plunging swiftly into me. I see flashes of light for a second, sure, and I get a little dizzy but not in a bad way.
His next thrust is just as swift and deep, and my muddled brain realizes that this is sex. He thrusts into me the way he’s supposed to... The beginning was for my benefit. To help with the pain. But now that we’re past that, he’s fucking me hard.
He lunges deep into me again, until his abs are flat on my ass, and again, and again, and I cry out as we reach a rhythm. My ass jumps up and down and his hands pin on my hips, holding me in place.
“Oh, yeah, girl,” he gasps, and there’s a sharp crack of pleasure and pain on my left ass cheek. He just spanked me, I realize. An
d I liked it. “Tell me you’ve been naughty this year. Tell me you’ve been a bad girl.”
“I’ve been a bad girl,” I obey him, even though it’s a lie. “I’ve been a bad girl this year, Santa.”
“Oh, yeah.” I thought Stuart might like that. He’s the kind of guy who wants to be called Daddy in the bedroom. “But I’m all out of coal. So I guess I’m going to have to give you this dick instead.” Crack! Another spanking, and I whimper. “Better not pout,” he warns me, reaching around and toggling my clit.
My system will overload and fry. “Better not cry,” he adds, another spank. This time, I clamp my lips shut and obediently do not allow myself to whimper. He grasps my hips and presses them down hard to the table, lunging into me with all of his weight. He shakes. The whole table shakes.
He lets out a strangled cry of release and his load is so hot, so full, that it lashes against my g-spot and I let out a small orgasm from the simple feeling of his warmth filling me. Oh, my god.
I blink and open my eyes, which clamped shut at some point in the festivities. His wild thrusting tugged my blindfold down to my nose, and now I can see. I twist and gaze back at him, seeing him for the first time since I got that invitation. He’s panting and covered in sweat and still balls deep inside me.
“Hey,” I say. “There you are.”
“Here I am.” He gently thrusts himself deeper into me. He’s still not exactly soft. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“I came hard,” I rebut with a little smile.
“You have no idea,” he says, unknotting my wrists. I totally forgot about that. My fingers are tingling. “You can come much harder than that. And you will.”
Chapter Five
Stuart
I don’t even realize how big of a load my balls carried until just now, leaving it all behind inside Rose but after being relieved from all that seed, maybe I need a break to build myself up again.
At the same time, look at this girl. How can I stop fucking her? When she’s literally naked with a bow wrapped around her?
I can’t... and maybe she can help me get back into fighting shape.
“Come here, naughty girl,” I command her, standing—albeit with loopy, loose legs. I still stand and smile down at her as she crawls to the edge of the coffee table on hands and knees, still loosely tangled in ribbon. She tugs the blindfold down around her slim neck, and I immediately come up with some new uses for that prop.
Just the thought of it has me ready for her, all over again. This is my Rose. I’ve fantasized about this moment for fucking years.
Her tits bounce as she rises from her knees. I help her up, grab the underside of her elbow and drag her into my arms. “There you are,” I say, just as she did.
“Here I am,” she whispered. She shakes in my arms, trembles from the orgasm, from the sweet mixture of our juices now trailing between her legs. Fuck, I want to fill her again. I will fill her again.
I’ve already regained my breath. My dick twitches, and I hold her out at arm’s length, examine those curves, and that sweet golden thatch of hair between her legs. “Stand here,” I say.
I walk to the sofa.
“Okay, baby.” I settle onto the living room couch. My cock waves in my lap like a big, fat flag pole. “Come tell me what you want for Christmas.”
I pat my thigh, encouraging her to approach my lap.
Rose purses her lips but obeys. I enjoy the motion of her body as she crosses toward me, the sinew of her muscular thighs, the sway of her perky breasts. I bet her stamina and her muscle control are through the roof; it’s obvious that she’s fit and healthy. I wonder if she can outlast me... and there’s only one way to find out.
“I want you to sit on my lap,” I tell her when she’s standing in front of me, “with your thighs wide open. Straddle Santa.”
Rose spreads her thighs wide and settles down onto my lap. Her gash opens for me, and she’s slick and hot, against my hard-on. My cock lays against her clit and down the center of her strip. We both shudder as we settle together but we just sit for a second, not sinking into any kind of rhythm yet.
She’s waiting for my word. Good girl.
“What do you want for Christmas this year, little girl?” I ask.
“I want you,” she breathes, gazing into my eyes. I stare back at her with appreciation.
I spend so much time working and being appreciated for my money, I forgot how it felt to be wanted for myself.
“Then I have a present for you,” I tell her. “Reach your hand down and feel it.”
Rose’s hand snakes between her own thighs to the base of my cock and grasps it, massaging it upward like she’s memorizing every curve, every veiny detail.
“This is exactly what I want,” she says.
I swallow thickly. “Then get on it.”
She puts all her weight on one knee and lifts the other knee to settle and sheath my dick within her body. I shudder as I sink inside of her but the recoil on that only lasts for a second.
“Grind your hips back and forth.”
Most women have little to no experience with having sex on top, and I don’t want my girl to be that way. I want her to know every way to pleasure me, even if she’s pleasuring me by pleasuring herself.
Rose gyrates on my lap and my eyelashes flutter at the sweet, soft sensation of her cunt milking my cock, trying to pull out another spurt.
“Just like that.” My voice shakes, giving away what a good job she’s doing, especially for someone who has just had her innocence taken. “Don’t stop.”
“Okay, Santa,” Rose says, and I grin. She’s roleplaying with me. I never met a woman who could role-play without being incredibly awkward and bashful about it. “I was a good girl this year,” she says, pumping herself up and down my shaft.
I grip her hips and help strengthen her momentum. Fuck, I’m going to come again. This has to stop. I feel crazy. It feels like it’s only been ten minutes since I walked through that door.
“Show me that good pussy, good girl,” I tell her. “Show me that good pussy.”
I can’t wait anymore. This position doesn’t have the leverage I need to really slam into her, and my cock is crying for that exact thing. My arms circle around her and lift her into the air. She never stops pumping, and neither do I. We’re still having sex while we’re walking but as soon as I hit the far wall, I pin her up against it and go full throttle inside her. I can’t stop.
“Welcome to the South Pole,” I whisper, and she giggles at my pun. “Let me get deep in there now, baby.” I fill her utterly and she almost breaks but she holds her composure and I’m proud. She is a good girl. “You deserve this dick,” I tell her, scooping her off the wall and walking with her toward the bedroom.
She’s taken it kinky and she’s taken it hard—hell, she lost her virginity on her belly, hog-tied by a Christmas ribbon—and now I want to give it to her the right way... in a bed, pressed close to her, the way a man and a wife should do. The way she deserves to be fucked.
They call it missionary style but it’s more than that. It’s my skin on her skin. It’s my eyes gazing into her eyes. It’s making love.
I walk her up the winding villa staircase, still speared on me. I’m still throbbing inside her.
“Come on, baby girl,” I whisper against her ear. “I’m going to put you to bed right.”
We cross the bedroom threshold, and I saunter over to the king-sized bed, feeling every inch a king right now. I spread my claimed virgin, my sweet charity worker, spread open on the bed like I’m going to investigate her every crevasse.
I lower myself over her, and for the first time tonight... I kiss her. I kiss Rose deeply and sweetly on the mouth, my tongue breaking between her lips and tangling with hers. She moans into me and her body loosens and curls around mine like so many vines, ensnaring my limbs and my torso. As we kiss, I thrust slowly and rhythmically into her. Our kiss finally breaks, and I breathe against her neck, unable to get enough of her scen
t, her touch, her skin. I want to be close.
I’ve never felt this way about a woman before—especially after we’ve had sex a few times—but I want Rose to be curled up, completely naked, in this bed with me tonight. I want to be able to sling my arm over her and fall into a deep sleep.
I come while shoved completely inside her, so even my hardest thrusts are tiny, but it doesn’t matter. We’re drowning in cum anyway. I might have to marry this girl.
Chapter Six
Rose
I’ve always been an early riser, and the morning after wild sex with a naked, hunky Santa Claus— otherwise known as Stuart Goldman, the billionaire—is no different.
I blink away the crust of sleep and glare around the room, vaguely remembering how I was delivered by valets to this address the night before. Does this place even have an address? Probably not. That would ruin the, ahem, mystique.
My eyes shift over to Stuart, who is still fast asleep but smiling softly. I can see the outline of his rock-hard dick under the sheets, creating a good-sized tent under there, and I wonder what he’s dreaming about.
I don’t want to wake him, and I could certainly make his morning by taking him into my mouth right now but I do need a minute to collect my thoughts before this sexcapade continues. Last night was crazy, and if I keep letting all of this snowball forward, I’m going to get crushed by the sudden tsunami of things I’ve done.
I can’t believe that I’m here, that I came last night, wrapped around Stuart Goldman’s shaft, and I need to decompress. I need to integrate this development.
I slip on my Mystique Island mask and one of the simple white dresses they provided for my weekend here. I leave behind the villa, commanding myself to note landmarks so I can find my way back without needing to ask some naked rando for help.
The beach is beautiful, a ribbon of white sand tied around the deep blue ocean beyond. I pass several other structures—cabanas, beach houses, villas, all types of residential buildings—and even though it’s just after sunrise, I can already hear that some visitors are wide awake and having a sloppy breakfast inside. One man has his bedroom window wide open, and a chorus of satisfied shrieks and moans from at least two different women, maybe three, travels from it.