Red Hot Christmas

by Mara White

  “Honey, I can make up the daybed upstairs if you’d like?” Frankie’s mother had turned his once bedroom into her sewing room and he didn’t mind, he was perfectly happy in the basement.

  “Ma, don’t sweat it. That pull out is comfortable.”

  He made his way downstairs after everyone said goodnight. Gloria’s room had survived the empty nest and she still had her pink canopy atrocity at her disposal. Frankie brushed his teeth in the downstairs bathroom and took a quick shower. He walked out the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around his waist and burst out laughing.

  “Traitor,” he said to Peebo who was curled up in a blanket cocoon at the bottom of the pull out. “You’d better haul-ass upstairs at the crack of dawn or else she’s going to have a fit. I knew you loved me more. Just don’t let Gloria find out, I assure you, she will spin it so that your loyalty to me will be my fault.”

  Peebo yawned with his tongue out, stretched his toes and went back to contentedly sleeping in a ball.

  Frankie stripped down to his boxers and slid under the cool sheets. He unlocked his phone to check on his social media. Lou had made him pose in an extra uncandid shot at the gym, straddling the lifting bench and curling his bicep into his chest. His head was aimed down so you couldn’t see his face. All that was on display were his flexed abs, his chiseled bicep and his pecs. Lou insisted that he post a provocative shot for the holidays.

  Damned if Lou wasn’t always right. He had fifty-six more followers from the last time he’s checked. Thousands of comments, mostly women and some men, complimenting his body. There were a couple of lifting questions which he quickly answered; how to define the V cut in your hips, how to get the rectus abdominis while eating pizza and watching television or pop the bicep with the least amount of effort.

  There was one question about meal plans and he messaged the follower for his contact information so he could email him a food schedule. Frankie was tired and full so he didn’t scroll though pictures, but he did make one stop before signing off—a quick pass to see what Red_Jimmy_Shoes was up to on Thanksgiving. He searched her and pulled up her profile. An amused look of bewilderment appeared on his face while he took in her picture. Red shoes had stolen his pose; he was sure of it. She wasn’t in the gym, but instead, on a velvet upholstered bench at the foot of a four poster bed. Her face was aimed down and her hair obscured her features, she was curling a rolling pin instead of the fifty-pound weight Frankie had posed with in his picture.

  She was wearing a sports bra and tight spandex shorts with her abdominis rectus on full display, exactly like Frankie’s was. Her stomach was flat and had the delicate definition of a violin. Her flexed bicep was impressive Frankie bet she could lift if she wanted to. Her thighs were pressed together and their perfectly taught shape suggested the legs of a runner. The caption underneath read: On cookie duty #thanksgiving #homefortheholiday She’d posted it in black and white just like he’d done.

  It certainly didn’t seem like a coincidence, even her posture mirrored his pose. He grinned, genuinely flattered, and felt his cock grow the longer he looked at her nearly naked body, which inconsequently he would define as perfect. His groin held that heavy ache from needing a release. He hadn’t been with anyone in months and the frustration was beginning to take a toll. Red shoes was so fucking sexy, yet somehow remained classy. He liked that she didn’t show her face, it made it feel less like camera whoring. God knows he’d broken it off with multiple girls because he couldn’t take their self-absorbed pretension of posting selfies all day. He found it distasteful. Red shoes showed a lot but Frankie, even if it was slightly delusional, was convinced that those pictures were meant only for him. She was following other people, but not many, and it couldn’t just be chalked up to coincidence.

  His cock was rock solid and tenting the blankets. It seemed he couldn’t even look at a picture of red shoes without getting hard. He licked his palm and stroked up and down his length imagining rubbing his long shaft between her perfect breasts. Then his mind crowded with the memory of straightening out the Phoenix’s garter belt in the bathroom. She was so sexy, inhibited and vulnerable. Frankie imagined slowly unbuttoning her shirt and unclasping her lace bra. The Phoenix—Amber—liked expensive things, he could tell. He wanted to take the bra and slide it back and forth over her raw cunt while she begged him for cock, to put it in her mouth. In his fantasy, she wasn’t wearing panties, just the garter and stockings. He tortured her with the delicate lace of her bra held between his two hands, moving it back and forth over her swollen folds, even her ass would be begging for cock. He was hard enough to fuck for days—right there in the public bathroom. He imagined Amber deep throating him on her knees, hands tied behind her back with the expensive bra cutting off her circulation. He imagined her with her shirt and skirt bunched around her waist. Naked except for the red fuck me shoes, the garter, and stockings. Afterward, she’d strut back to the conference room, lips swollen, red lipstick smeared and hair mussed, mascara stains under her eyes because he’d fucked her mouth brutally. She’d have to cough before she began because his hot jizz would be coating the back of her throat.

  Frankie moaned and hot threads of semen shot out of his dick landing on the back of his gripped hand and ripped abs. The combination of Amber and the red shoes was easily the best fantasy he’d ever had.

  Amber

  Just like she promised she would, Amber sped to Westchester at least twenty minutes over the speed-limit and made it to her parent’s house just in time for pie.

  “Well, Amber Elizabeth decided to grace us with her presence!” her sister Hannah Grace exclaimed. Amber set down her small Vuitton duffel and ran to hug her niece and nephew and then slightly less enthusiastically hugged her twin sisters, her brother-in-laws and then her mom and dad.

  “The stuffing was incredible and the turkey turned out great. We all helped with the cooking so you’re on dish duty” Emily Anne said. All of the girls in the family had double first names. They went by their solo name publicly but at home they were always double to their parents and each other. It was kind of a mouthful. Amber was thankful that her sisters had the common sense not to give their offspring more than one name to contend with.

  “Why would I have to do dishes if I didn’t even eat?” Amber asked her sister. “I mean I’ll help out, but logically it doesn’t make any sense. I have to clean up after you because I wasn’t here?”

  “Come tell you mother about work. You don’t have to clean up anything. We’re just happy you made it,” her mother said smoothing over the sibling tension.

  “Were you like the only person in the whole Empire State Building today? Did you have to get security clearance?” Hannah Grace asked her.

  “Maintenance and security were there, but most of the offices were closed.” Amber accepted a steaming mug of coffee from her father.

  “Pie in about an hour?” he consulted the room. The dining room table was a pillaged mess. Amber rolled up her sleeves and decided cleaning up might help her cool down. She’d run the entire live auction by herself this morning. She wasn’t a humbug but her three partners all had families to go home to and she wasn’t about to make any kid miss their dad on Thanksgiving. It made sense that she’d take care of it and they could make up for it in other ways.

  “How much money did you make today, Ace?” Her father’s sweet nickname for her came from her acing her way through school. No matter how many A’s she made, her father was always enthusiastic and proud.

  “Millions,” was her standard answer for the question he always asked her.

  “Buy me the Harley for Christmas that makes your mother say, over my dead body, would you?”

  “Taking her side on that one, dad,” she said as they stacked dishes in the kitchen.

  Amber’s father had walked her down the aisle when she married Chase in the church they’d grown up in. She wore a silk organza gown with a long train that made her feel like a princess. It had been one of the most
poignant moments of her life. Amber was madly in love with Chase and excited to embark on their new shared life. She couldn’t help but feel like she’d let her own family down when her marriage fell apart.

  “Meet anyone interesting lately? Hannah Grace asked her. Hannah had cut her strawberry blonde hair into a short bob and the look really suited her.

  “I work, literally, all the time,” Amber told her as she stacked plate after dirty plate into the dishwasher.

  “Any hot guys you’ve just been, um dating?” Hannah said throwing a look over her shoulder at their father.

  “I heard that. I’m leaving,” their dad said and let himself out into the backyard where the kids were running around with a soccer ball.

  “You are free to have brand new dick and you’re not even taking advantage of it,” Hannah said. She licked the rubber spatula after filling glass cups with some type of pudding.

  “Isn’t Dave, like, right there in the living room?” Amber asked her sister.

  Hannah waived the spatula in the air and rolled her eyes like she couldn’t care less what Dave heard her talking about.

  “Most people would jump at new dick. Like jump out of a moving car going ninety miles an hour down the freeway for that shit.” Hannah had been drinking.

  “Are you and Dave, okay?” Amber whispered to her sister.

  “Peachy. I’m just saying, I’d take advantage of the situation if I were you. Plus, hot Instagram sis. That should definitely help you.” Hannah was eating one of the puddings by dipping a long finger in the cup and sucking it off.

  “What?!” Amber nearly screamed, her face going red with embarrassment.

  “Duh, I know you don’t use it anymore, but once upon a time you had a Facebook account. So when you joined, it said on my screen, “your friend Amber Elizabeth is now on Instagram as Red Hooker Shoes, or whatever your name is.”

  “Holy shit. I didn’t know it did that!” Amber said. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Obviously.”

  “Don’t tell ANYONE!” Amber said. She had really blown it this time.

  “Too late. Anyway, it’s a perfectly respectable way to get new dick. Hell, I thought the pictures looked hot. I gotta step up my MILF selfie game.”

  “Jesus.” Amber said. She undid the strings of the apron she’d put on and balled it on the counter.

  “Dave, we thought Amber’s pictures were hot, didn’t we?” Hannah hollered into the living room.

  “We sure did!” Dave yelled back.

  “What pictures?” Emily Anne and her mother said simultaneously.

  “I’m taking that down right now,” Amber said. She was wringing her fingers and turning as red the leaves on the maple tree in her parent’s backyard. She rummaged through her purse and couldn’t find the damn phone.

  “Leave them up,” Dave said. He sauntered into the kitchen and wrapped Hannah Grace up in his arms. He kissed her head and smiled at Amber. “We’ll all promise not to follow you. Besides, if this doesn’t help you snag a man, nothing will. You should give Hannah your trainer’s number,” Dave said. Hannah Grace punched him in the arm.

  “I’m fine on my own,” Amber said, but they weren’t listening to her.

  “This belly is from your son for your information,” Hannah huffed. Dave pulled her into a tight hug and began whispering in her ear. Amber turned around to the sink trying to stifle tears. She was mortified.

  “Amber, if Chase saw these he would flip. We all know you’re a catch. You just have to communicate that to the rest of the world. I like the provocative picture thing, myself.”

  “Don’t like it too much, Cowboy,” Hannah Grace told her husband. Dave gathered Hannah in his arms and kissed her again.

  Amber often had her own doubts about whether or not Chase kept in touch with her two brothers-in-law. They’d all been peas in a pod at one point before Chase went off the deep end and thought he was the Wolf of Wall Street and she was just his expensive ornament.

  Dave left them in the kitchen and went outside to kick the ball with the kids. Amber felt like she’d been caught staring in a porno flick compared to how private she usually was about her life and especially her sexuality.

  “I’m not being facetious when I say it was a step in the right direction. I felt kind of proud of you, Amber, when I saw those. You’ve moved on and you’re one sexy bitch. Own it.”

  Amber reluctantly gave a weak smile to her sister.

  “You can disconnect Instagram from your Facebook and nobody will know the difference. Or your secret. It’s safe with me, I promise.”

  Amber had kept countless secrets for both sisters over the years. They trusted her, and for the most part, she also trusted them. They might have both been a pain in her ass, but regardless, the girls were close and wanted what was best for her.

  “I made it for this one guy who works in the building. He’s a custodian. Young, insanely handsome, and I think he’s a model. Just for fun and to flirt. He has no idea it’s me.”

  Hannah Grace handed Amber a cup of pudding and they knocked the rims together in celebration.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, hooker shoes.”

  “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  Amber

  “Coming!” she shouted to the doorbell. Amber shoved her feet into sneakers and yanked open the door. Lou stood dripping on the mat. He folded his umbrella and set it against the wall in the hallway.

  “You got an extra towel? It’s coming down in sheets out there!” He shucked off his jacket and set it down next to the umbrella.

  Lou was a godsend and more than just a trainer. He charged an arm and a leg, but the man was Amber’s personal savior. Guidance counselor, nutritionist, and life coach all rolled into one. He’d picked her up off the ground and turned her self-pity into determination. She went from feeling like the divorce was the end of her life to feeling like she’d been given a second chance and a new beginning.

  Around Lou, Amber was completely herself. He was at her house every morning at six thirty and she greeted him in sweats, hair shoved into a messy ponytail and her signature thick glasses. Lou was probably the only non-family member to have ever seen Amber in glasses. There were no power suits, heels, or fancy lingerie for Lou, just Amber in the raw. Honest, vulnerable and willing to put in the work he asked of her. He drove her into the ground physically and never apologized for kicking her ass. When she complained of soreness, he said, “congratulations,” or “lucky you,” or “you earned it.” The times he totally broke her, had her in tears and shaking, Amber would scream “I can’t!” and Lou would scream back, “You can! You deserve this!” The confidence she gained in her body translated to every aspect of her life. She felt safe walking the streets alone at night. She owned it in a boardroom full of all male coworkers, and apparently now, she was comfortable taking provocative pictures of her body. Not that Lou knew that, but he had given her all those gifts.

  “How’d you sleep? Did you get your protein in?” Lou was always on top of her. Amber knew he had other clients but he always made her feel like she was the only one. Lou was a confident, friend and yet, enough of a ball buster that she was terrified of disappointing him. He was ex-Marine Corp, a former professional boxer and a fitness pioneer. Lou was also an Italian immigrant raised in the South Bronx and had a personality and accent as strong as they came. He was Chase’s trainer first, but when they split up, Lou stayed with her. His loyalty meant the world to her. Lou gave her some diatribe about how total body fitness wasn’t about attracting the opposite sex and anyone who was into that could find someone else to rip their abs. Lou was spiritual and he believed physical health was a journey to well-being and self-acceptance. Amber never asked him directly, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Chase had been using their gym sessions as an excuse to hit on or pick up other women. When Amber first told Lou, he dropped Chase as a client immediately. She’d only said something once and Lou replied with a dismissive, “Amber, you get it. He didn’t
.”

  Daily she thanked the universe for putting them together. Lou had helped her survive the darkest days of her life and she felt indebted to him.

  “Did you have a nice Thanksgiving?” she asked him. The squats with the kettle bells already had her winded.

  “It was good. We went to see my mother-in-law in Jersey. You?”

  “Worked. Ate pudding and pie,” her thighs were burning and she could barely get the words out.

  “Sugars, wildcat. You need to watch them. Give me another twenty.”

  “It was a holiday,” Amber grunted her face going red with exertion.

  “Yeah, and so’s Christmas and New Years and too many other excuses to indulge. Strong body, strong mind. Say it on the exhale.”

  “I’m gonna die,” she complained. Lou just smiled at her and shook his head lightly.

  He stayed for a cup of coffee and made Amber’s protein shake himself. The man reminded her of Clint Eastwood, rough on the exterior, but loyal and loving on the interior. She imagined he must have been a looker in his day. The guy was nearing seventy, but his eyes were bright and his body was stronger than hers would ever be. He had two grown children and had been married for thirty-five years, longer than she’d been alive.

  “Meet me at the gym after work. We’ll get in your cardio and do a quick round of circuit training.”

  Amber wondered what Lou did all day and how many other clients he had. She worried that he would retire and she’d have to find someone new who would never be able to match his sensei status and ability to motivate and guide her.

  She was exhausted after work but gave him one hundred and ten percent because he wouldn’t settle for less. She was drenched in sweat and her muscles burned with exertion. The goddamned Stairmaster, steep incline, forty-five minutes, it was killing her. When she hopped off and dragged a towel across her face and chest, she noticed Lou lying on the bench pressing hundred pound weights. He turned his head to the side and winked at her. The man was like zombie movie, always getting up for more after he’d gone down for the count. He worked out all day, every day. His body was sinew and he was blood and guts personified. She was happy to be on his good side. Chase was probably terrified of him.