My cock bounces, flinging Cool-Whip all over the floor. “You’re going to lick me too.”
I step closer and she shakes her head. “That’s cheating. Stay out of touching distance unless it’s your turn.”
“I already hate this game. Hit me with the questions, woman. I need to suck you clean.”
She laughs and her tits bounce. My mouth fucking waters. “First, we drink!”
With my hands on my hips and my whipped cream covered cock jutting out in front of me, I stare at her sexy ass as she turns to make us a drink. The naughty girl teases me, dancing to the classic Christmas music playing on her record player in the other room.
“Do you want to fuck me?” she asks, shooting a smirk over her shoulder. “Hmm? Easy question.”
“Fuck yes.”
“Come lick me.”
I fall to my knees behind her, spread her ass cheeks, and run my tongue over her puckered hole.
“Eric!” she shrieks. “There’s not whipped topping there!”
“My bad.” I rise to my feet and give her cute ass a playful swat. “Next time I’ll do better.”
She turns to face me, handing me a tall, clear mug with painted candycanes on it. It’s filled with a creamy liquid. One whiff tells me there’s rum in it.
“Spiked eggnog,” she says, lifting her own glass. “Cheers to this being the best holiday season yet.”
I’ll drink to that.
We clink glasses and I take a hearty chug. Holy shit. How many shots did she put in this thing?
Her cackle of laughter has my cock throbbing. “Too much?”
“Nah. My turn.” I pin her with a filthy, wicked glare. “Who’s better in bed? Me or Travis?”
She gapes at me, cheeks turning bright red. “You, duh. You’re adventurous and I love that.”
Pleased, I point at my cock. “Come have a taste, beautiful.”
Her tits bounce prettily as she kneels. Then, as if she’s scared of my dick, she flicks her tongue out and tastes the smallest bit of cream.
“Clara,” I growl, frowning at her.
She shrugs and stands back up. “The game will be over too quick if I suck it all off now.”
And then it’s on. Rapid-fire questions. Back and forth. I’m much more efficient at licking the dessert off her body than she is mine. I’m determined to win this thing.
Her tits are clean. Sticky, but no longer have the Cool-Whip on them. She unsteadily hops onto the countertop and spreads her thighs. After the first glass of eggnog, we switched to drinking straight from the liquor bottle. Clara blurs in front of me and my body burns with heat.
“What are you going to do with your life now, Eric?” Her question isn’t a sexy, teasing one. It’s real, raw, and brittle. It’s a question I don’t know the answer to. My mouth waters to lick her pussy, but I can’t because I’m unable to answer the question.
“That’s not fair,” I grumble.
The alcohol is making her vulnerable because her eyes shine with tears. “It seems simple to me. Stay here with me. Be with me.”
It should be that simple.
But is it?
What would I do for work? New York has more opportunities than our small town.
