“I want your cock,” I said against his mouth. I reached for his pants and undid the buckle. I threw the belt to the floor and unzipped the fly with a rasp. I palmed his cock, and he grunted slightly. His fingers went down to tease my pussy as I rubbed his cock through the boxer briefs.
“Fuck me,” I moaned. I nipped his lower lip.
He growled then picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I ground against him, the motion making that ribbon that ran right along my pussy rub my clit as he walked up the stairs.
“I've been wanting this for days,” he said against my mouth.
“I've wanted it since I saw you in my room,” I panted.
“My room,” he growled, planting kisses along my collarbone. He pushed me back on the bed. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him back down to kiss him.
“I told you I want my Christmas present now.”
“So demanding,” he said, the smirk on his face letting me know he had every intention of drawing this out.
I grabbed his shirt collar and pulled. The buttons popped off his shirt and bounced around the room. Owen's chest was just as drool worthy as I remembered. I thought maybe I had exaggerated it in my wet dreams and daytime fantasies, but nope. His chest was amazing. I could make out the outlines of every muscle, from the hard plates of his pecs down to his washboard abs, culminating in the V that pointed like a sign down to his Christmas package, the bulge clear through his pants.
“You’re a naughty girl,” he said, grabbing my wrists and pinning me back on the bed.
“Too bad you left your belt downstairs,” I said, panting as he carefully kissed my tits through the thin red fabric.
“I can punish you in other ways,” he said, “but sometimes pleasure is the best punishment.”
I cursed as he slowly ran his tongue down the ribbon, the red fabric painting a neon line to my pussy. I arched back as he licked me through the fabric. I spread my legs for him, and he pushed the strip of silk aside, licking a stripe along my folds. I whimpered as he worked my clit with his tongue. My chest heaved. Owen sucked on my clit as he used two fingers to tease my opening, dipping in then making snowflake patterns in the wet hot warmth of my pussy as he coaxed me over the edge with his tongue. I cried out, my nails digging into his broad shoulders as I came.
“You still didn't say Merry Christmas,” he said.
“I thought you hated Christmas,” I panted. The orgasm had slaked my lust only slightly. I felt that I could easily go another round.
“If I can have you wrapped up like this under my tree, I'll have Christmas every day,” he replied.
I sat up on my knees and struck my best fifties pinup girl pose, channeling my inner Bettie Page.
“You want to come give me a white Christmas all over my face?” I cooed, batting my eyes, licking a finger and trailing it down my tits and down the ribbon to my pussy. I was aching for his cock.
Owen stood at the foot of the bed.
“I've been a real naughty girl,” I said, slowly crawling across the bed to him.
Owen stripped off his pants and threw them to the floor.
“I want to see what's in your stocking,” I told him, pulling down the boxer briefs. His cock sprang out, huge and thick. Owen definitely needed a size XL stocking.
“And a Merry Christmas to me,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “I might need two hands for this.” I reached for his cock. Owen swore as I ran my hands down the length. “Is it weird that I kind of wish you had a bow around it?”
“Yes, that’s very weird,” he said as I put the tip of his cock in my mouth, licking the slit. I slid several inches into my mouth, humming “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” around his thick shaft.
His fingers dug into my hair, and he pulled me back. I released his cock with a pop of my lips. Owen, I was pleased to see, was breathing a little erratically. His cock jutted out like the North Pole.
“I want to fuck you,” he growled.
“Have you been a good boy this year?” I teased.
“Of course,” he said in that sexy deep voice. He kissed my neck. His cock pressed against my thigh, and I whimpered, spreading my legs for him. “And that means I get to open my Christmas present early.”
He tugged me upright. Then he pulled on the ends of the bow sitting at my breasts. It tugged a little then gave. The red ribbon pooled on the bedspread.
“But then you won't have anything for Christmas,” I said. I was on my knees, hands braced on his shoulders.
