This is the meanest, best thing anyone has ever done to me. Until I feel her hand glide up and down my hard length, so lightly, barely touching me over my pants. It’s like getting a hand job by the ghost of Christmas future, and I want this future to happen now and forever.
I slide my thumb out of her mouth and kiss her again. A deep, punishing kiss for the naughty elf that she is. I comb my fingers through her hair. I notch my knee between her legs, and she squeezes her thighs around mine. Rocks her hips, riding my thigh, making little high-pitched breathy sounds, and she confirms that sheistrying to drive me crazy.
She sucks on my tongue, moaning, and—that’s it. “Fuck.”
Lowering to my knees, I kiss down the front of her. Not frantic. Not crazy. I know what I’m doing. I am getting down to business. I can’t imagine how many producers have gotten down to business in this supply closet over the decades. That is why I made sure it was steam-cleaned and disinfected before I movedin. Not that I planned to dothisin here. Not that I’ve ever done anything like this in here before. But if I’m going to do this, it will be done the classy, business-like way.
My temporary assistant will come on my face like a lady.
She’s so fucking petite, I am directly facing her perky tits when I’m kneeling, so I have to suck on her hard nipples through the thin fabric of her blouse and bra. I have to. When she sighs, I have to bite into the flesh of her small, perfect breast, and when she combs her fingers through my hair and says my name, there is nothing else to do but tear her blouse apart in a gentlemanly manner and pull down the fabric of that bra so I can taste her. Swirling my stiff tongue around that pink areola, I pinch her other nipple. “God dammit, woman, I have wanted this for so fucking long.”
She exhales and leans into me, pushing the closet door shut. “Me too.”
“Yeah?” I pull my suit jacket off, and she cradles my head in her arms, pulling me to her breasts—which is a fantastic move that I respect.
“Yeah.”
“You wanted this eight years ago?” I flick at her nipple with the tip of my tongue and then take it into my mouth.
She hums.
That is not an answer.
I lower myself more and disappear under her skirt, pushing her panties to the side. She gasps and lifts one leg, resting it over my shoulder. Those fucking boots are touching me through my shirt, the heel digging into my back, and why is that so hot? It’s so hot.
Circling her clit with my thumb makes her whimper. I like that. I like everything that’s going on down here. It’s so slick and—“Jesus, you are so wet.” Fuck, I want to be inside her. She tilts her hips toward me, and I lick up her center. Once, twice,three times. “Baby…” She’s trembling. I am making Cleo Jones tremble. Finally. I reach up and around to grab a handful of bare ass cheek—what?
She’s wearing a thong?
Under her short skirt?
With no tights?
To the office?
Oh, hell no, little girl.
Her bare ass cheek gets slapped for that.
Twice.
It sounds like she’s covering her mouth, and that’s smart and also a shame, because I want to hear her cry out my name but I feel exactly how much she liked it on my tongue.
How does she taste so good?
Like the melted icing on her gingerbread cookies.
Sweet and warm with aromatic spice.
That’s what paradise tastes like right there.
It is a distinct fucking pleasure to fuck that inviting, delicious gateway to heaven with my greedy, eager-to-please tongue.
One more thing I’m happy to learn about this naughty elf? She has very strong thighs. Like, Bond-villainess strength. She could strangle me with those thighs. She would strangle me with her thighs while singing a parody of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” and bucking against my face, and I would love it. Not as much as she’s loving it right now, but I would love it.
“Elijah! Oh my God.” She stage-whispers like the theatre performer she is.
I am relentless, and she is meeting me where I’m at and going so far beyond, just like when we were in film school.
