by Dani Wyatt
Ever.
Before.
She is truly mine and no one else’s. I will be the only one to ever have her, even if she doesn’t know it yet. That little Christmas cunt will be branded with my cum.
I’m too old for her.
The thought pounds in my head. But it only heightens my desire for her sweetness. Her innocence. The way she sees the world so differently. The years haven’t jaded her like most of the women I’ve known.
Now today, sitting in meetings with suits and ties, my dick is throbbing like a trapped nerve. My thoughts alternate between all the sweet things I want to say to her and all the filthy dirty things I want to do to her.
After a business dinner where I was texting her under the table the entire time, I can’t wait to get back to my hotel room and get her on the phone. Her voice fills my head even while I sleep. The image of her hand playing in her sopping wet cunt torments me at every turn.
Back in my hotel room, I read through some emails, barely able to concentrate. The final approval for the changes in the holiday spending for next year has come through. The projected savings to the company by eliminating the Christmas Village are even higher than I anticipated. The finance people are thrilled.
But a wash of ambivalence cascades over me. I dial Penny and when I hear that sweet hello, suddenly all is right with the world again.
“How’s my girl?”
“Good. Tired.” Her voice is softer than usual.
“What’s wrong? Did you eat? You said the food they’ve been bringing in is good. Has something changed?” If the catering company isn’t working out, I’ll hire another.
“Oh, the food is great. And yes, I ate.” Her soft giggle reminds me that she’s getting used to me asking about her eating. “Just a long day. Lots of long days.”
“Well, you are off tomorrow. I want you to rest. Take a long bath. Play the piano... read... whatever else you’d like to do.”
“Can’t.” I hear the shrug. “I took extra shifts. They are short a few elves in the village. Seems some can’t take the pressure, and as Christmas gets closer they are dropping like flies.”
I grumble. “You need a day off.”
“Christmas is just three days away. I’ll be okay. I’ll push through. I love it still, don’t get me wrong, it’s just been a long day like I said.”
I pause and listen to her breath on the phone.
“Hey. I want you to do something for me.”
“Sure. What?”
“I want you to play the piano for me while I listen.”
Silence.
“Penny?”
“Yeah, I’m not—”
“Play for me.” I’m surprised myself by how much I want this. “Pretend you are alone and play. I want so badly to hear you play.”
Another long pause and my heart is hitting my ribs as I wait for her answer. It’s like that first kiss, waiting to feel if she was going to kiss me back. There is something incredibly intimate about her music and it would be a gift to my heart to hear her play for me.
“Okay,” she says softly.
I relax back onto my bed and wait. The music that follows hardens my cock and softens my heart. She’s playing Bach with such emotion and precision that I’m swept away by the intensity.
Before I realize it, I’m lost in the fantasy of having her under me. My cock in my hand, I’m jerking off again as I think about sliding into her wet silk, her taste still on my tongue from the orgasms I’ve given her before rutting into her like a beast from behind. Her cries of pleasure tangle into the notes coming through my phone until I’m grunting out my release as the final notes play and her voice comes back through.
“There.” She’s slightly winded and I can tell how much of herself she puts into her art.
“I’m speechless. That was beyond perfection.”
“Thanks.” I hear the twinge of embarrassment in her voice. “I’m surprised I could even play for you. Even though you’re not here, it’s still as close as I’ve come to playing for an audience. No one outside of my parents and a few teachers over the years. Anyone else...when I try to play, I go completely blank. Freeze up.”
“I’m beyond honored, Penny. You have no idea.” I push the phone to my ear and hold it there with my shoulder as I stand. “Tell me about your parents. Why did they leave you for the holidays?” I ask as I walk to the bathroom and retrieve a towel to clean up my release.
“Oh, we haven’t celebrated Christmas for years. Not since I was like ten.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No. My mom hates Christmas. Says it’s frivolous. She tolerated it when I was a kid, but when I turned ten, she told me Santa wasn’t real and Christmas was a waste of time and money. Which didn’t make sense, since she’s the queen of shopping. She has a closet bigger than some people’s houses. My dad is sweet, but he sort of does whatever my mother wants. He’s not all that healthy now, so they are in Switzerland for some of his treatments. But, whatever, so them going away is no big deal. I’m used to it. What about you? You celebrate with your family?”
The cheer in her voice sounds forced and I’m sure it’s more than being tired. I know how much she loves Christmas, I’ve seen it and she’s told me as much, and to know she hasn’t celebrated it for so long drives a knife into my heart.
“Oh, I usually work. Retail, you know, it never stops. Then, I have a traditional party I go to on Christmas day. That’s about it. My mom loved Christmas. My dad, well, he worked most of the time, like me. But, I have fond memories from my childhood. My mother didn’t make it about the gifts, but about giving in other ways. She was an amazing woman.”
“Was? She’s passed?”
I pause. The tightness in my throat surprising me even after a year. “Yes,” I manage. Until this moment, I hadn’t realized how much I would like to have those Christmases back. The ones with Mom, how she made me feel something other than the driving force to succeed.
“What do you want for Christmas?” Her sweet voice spins the melancholy away, leaving in its place this raw desire to consume her. Not just sexually either, but to possess her in every way. To care for her. To make sure she is tucked into bed, safe every night from now until forever.
“I want you, Penny.” The words tumble from me in a lusty burst. I wait for her reaction, praying I’ve not gone too far.
After a pause, I hear a laugh. Not of amusement, but of warmth. “I want you, too.”
“I’ll be back in thirty-six hours. Christmas Eve. We’re spending it together. That’s all I want.”
With that, our conversation tumbles on through the night.
“You know what else I want?” Her voice softens.
“Anything, my little angel, just say the word.”
“Tell me how else you’d like to touch me.” The lust in her voice drives me nearly mad, and I don’t need any more encouragement.
My own hand drops to the front of my trousers, easing the throbbing hard-on she’s raised with just a few words.
“Are you wearing panties?” I ask, walking over to the bed and laying down before she answers.
“Yes. But only white cotton. Nothing sexy.”
This girl has no idea what sexy is. If I could eat those white cotton panties off her sweet cunt right now, I would. Imagining that soft fabric against what’s mine has me ready to call a limo to take me to the airport right now.
“Angel, that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Now, I want you to go lay down on the bed.”
“Okay. Going.” I listen to the soft padding of her feet as she moves across the room, followed by her sigh as she lays back and the sheets crumple beneath her. “Laying down.”
“Good girl. Now, what else are you wearing?”
“Just a big T-shirt.”
“Take it off,” I order, rubbing my palm over the steel that threatens to bust through my zipper.
She giggles, then a moment later: “Off,” she answers on a breath.
“Now, I w
ant you to bend your knees, spread your legs, and lean back on your pillows. Then take your fingers and begin to just lightly brush over the crotch of your panties. Close your eyes, Angel, imagine those are my fingers. I’m whispering in your ear, telling you how beautiful you are. How good I’m going to make you feel...”
A soft moan seeps through the phone and heat gathers in my chest.
“Keep going. Softly, slowly, up and down. Back and forth with the lightest touch. Open your legs wider. I’m right there next to you, my little angel. I’ll take good care of you.”
“God,” she whimpers, sending raw desire through me, and I lean my head back, closing my eyes, imagining her laying there, strumming over those wet panties with her fingers while she thinks of me.
“Talk to me. Tell me when you can’t stand it anymore. Tell me when you need more.” I undo my belt, reach in and pull out my erection, unable to wait any longer. The tip is wet with precum, ready to go as I fist the base, holding off the orgasm that is quickly building.
After a few more minutes, Penny’s strained voice comes through.
“I need more,” she moans. “I want more.”
“Good girl. Now, I want you to sit up, take off your panties. Grab a pillow and roll it up.”
“A pillow?” I hear the muffled sounds of her moving around and the thought of what lies under those panties nearly consumes me.
“Yes,” I bark the word. My need is beginning to overwhelm me. I need her to do as I say. I need her obedience. “Do it.”
She responds with pent-up need. “Okay. Panties off. Pillow rolled up.”
“Now, put the phone on speaker and set it down. Get on top of that pillow. Take your fingers and reach down, dip them into that hot cunt and tell me how wet you are, Penny.”
I listen to her breathing and the soft squeak that follows. “I’m soaking. Your voice does that to me.” Her throaty reply sends cum dripping out of my dick even as my iron grip fails to hold it back.
“Fuck, you are so good. Now, hold those lips open and ease down onto the pillow. I want your outer lips open. I want you pressed on the fabric. Your clit better be rubbing back and forth right on that pillow. You know why?”
“Why?” she bleats and my thoughts are filled with the image of my sweet angel riding that pillow.
“Because you need to imagine that pillow is me, and I want that clit rubbing back and forth on me as you take me inside you, Angel. That’s what I want you to do. I want you to start humping that pillow like you are riding me, right up until you cum. Then, you are going to reach back down, scoop up that cream from your orgasm and put it in your mouth and tell me how you taste.”
My words are followed by her heavy breaths, her lusty effort, and I can’t hold on another second. I come all over my hand with the sounds of her pleasuring herself, imagining that it’s me. The thought drives me to the brink of madness.
“I’m inside you now, Angel. All the way in. I know it hurts, but you have to take it, baby. I need this...” I grunt out, dreaming of the moment this will all be real.
I talk her through another orgasm before saying goodbye and leaving me rubbing out another of my own before drifting into a fitful slumber filled with dreams of her sweet juice spreading over my tongue.
C H A P T E R E I G H T
Penny
WHEN I SAID GOODBYE to Malcolm last night, I was spent from three orgasms he talked me through and the hours of effortless conversation. It’s been the same every time, night after night for the last week.
Waking gradually, my eyes still bleary from lack of sleep, I reach out in the dark of the bedroom for my phone, a smile already creasing my lips. I’m expecting the usual, sweet, good-morning text message from Malcolm. It’s been the same each time I wake up for the last five days.
A little ball of panic hits me when I see the time shining out from the screen. I must have forgotten to set my alarm and I’m already running behind if I’m going to get to work on time. I push away the covers in a panic and swing myself over in the bed.
As my vision clears, I realize there’s no text message either. Disappointment sinks into my gut as I wonder what’s happened. So quickly I’ve come to count on the little routine we’ve established. It feels as though we’ve been together far longer, as though we’re far more involved than a couple of face to face meetings in the Christmas Village and a week of phone calls and texts should account for.
But, deep in my bones, I feel this is something else. Something I’ve only read about. This odd connection that feels older than the time we’ve had together. As though we’ve known each other for lifetimes, and yet have only just rediscovered one another after being lost.
As I rush out to the bathroom, phone still in hand in case he’s running late as well, there is a knock on my door.
My heart speeds up and my body tenses, a little grin playing over my lips.
Could Malcolm have come back early to surprise me? Could that be why he didn’t bother with a text?
It’s entirely possible, and the tightness in my gut spins into concern over how I must look, disheveled and sleep-deprived. I threw on an old T-shirt for bed, my panties sit in a wad on the floor beside the nightstand, wasted and discarded after Malcolm’s filthy talk had them soaked through. They were useless long before he finished guiding my hands with his voice.
Deep breath and I figure: why not let him see the real me? My hair is in eight sorts of a mess, I’m a no make-up sort of girl, so that doesn’t change much from day to night.
My fingers shake as I grip the doorknob, my other hand reaching up to unlock the deadbolt as I pull open the apartment door. Legions of butterflies take flight in my stomach.
For a moment, confused silence has me standing agape, forgetting for a moment that I’m wearing nothing but a short, thin T-shirt.
“Penny Evergreen?” The man looks annoyed, not turned on, and I suppose I should be grateful for that. He’s wearing a beige work shirt with the name of the apartment building embroidered in green above his left chest pocket.
“Yes?” I cross one arm over my braless breasts as my other hand drops to tug at the hem of the T-shirt, trying to cover a few more inches of my naked thighs.
“We need to see you in the office.” He drags his tongue across his teeth with a sucking sound. “As soon as you can get dressed.” He raises his eyebrows and runs his hand under his nose with a loud sniff.
“Is something wrong?”
He shrugs. “I just work here. Super said you need to come to the office. That’s the message I’m delivering and that’s all I know. Sorry.” His bored expression belies the apology, and the low hum of irritation tells me no further information will be dispensed.
A HALF HOUR LATER, I’m pulling my coat over my elf costume.
By the time I get down to the office, I’ll only have a half hour to get to Knight & Knight, and it’s a forty-five-minute subway ride so I’m already behind the eight ball.
I pull up my phone again, still fighting the anxiety over the fact that there’s no message from Malcolm. Then I happen to look at the top bar of my phone and see the two little words there...No Service.
That just adds to my confusion. As I walk down the hall to the management office at the apartment where I’m staying, I’m wondering what the heck is going on.
It’s Christmas Eve as well, and there are going to be a lot of eager visitors, all with children who need to talk to Santa at the last minute, so I’m more than anxious to get there.
As I walk into the office, I’m met by a stern woman with a thin upper lip and a severely tight ponytail, her arms crossed over a blue blazer.
“What’s going on?”
Her expression stays indifferent as she speaks.
“As of this morning, Mrs. Janet Evergreen is having the locks changed on the apartment. I’m afraid you will not be allowed back onto the premises.”
My heart pounds. “What?”
“You will not be allowed back onto the premises,” she
says, as if my expression of confusion stemmed from my inability to hear what she’d said. “It’s a temporary accommodation. Paid per diem. As of today, Mrs. Evergreen has cancelled the contract. She’s specifically asked that the locks be changed. Any of your belongings remaining in the apartment will be boxed and you may retrieve them from the storage area located in the basement for a period of ten days. After that, they will be discarded.”
The next ten minutes go by like a blur, and I find myself on the subway, unsure what else to do but go to work. My mind goes back over what just happened, the woman handing me an email from my mother. She’d asked her to print it and give it to me, not to read it for me, as if she wanted me to feel the bile in every cold letter.
It seems my luck has worn out. Mother phoned Victor, the trainer I was supposed to be working with to check on my progress. My deception unraveled from there and now, she not only has me locked out of the apartment, but she’s cut off my phone too, as well as my Visa.
The last words of her message were, You want to make your own decisions, that’s fine, then you can make your own way as well.
I’m in a half dream as the day goes by. Malcolm has no way to reach me. I have nowhere to go. As the last of the visitors to the Village line up and make their way to the cashier, I’m numb.
It’s Christmas Eve and I have literally nowhere to go. I’m homeless. I guess I might have enough money for a hotel room, but I don’t like the thought of the kind of neighborhood I can afford. And that’s even if I can find somewhere that isn’t fully booked at this short notice.
I’m the last elf here when a family comes up to the ticket counter. There are four adults and probably nine or ten children, ranging in age from toddler to pre-teen, all with wide eyes and wonder.
I stand back in my place and wait to be called forward to usher the last of this season’s visitors through the Village. It’s nearly 6 p.m., and even though they closed the line at five as scheduled, it’s taken this long to get to the last group that snuck in before they made the cut off.