“I’m covered in frosting.”
“I was planning on covering you in frosting,” he said, hooking two fingers in the waist of my skirt and pulling me inside. “I even decorated my house to help get you in a festive mood.”
My pussy was like,Fuck it, let’s go.
The motion caused a chunk of dried frosting dough to fall loose from my skirt and thud to the floor.
“I’ve been baking all day.”
Matt chuckled then leaned in to kiss me hard. His tongue slipped in my mouth. I whimpered as he started to unbutton my blouse.
“And I want to taste how sweet you are,” he murmured. He slipped a large hand into my bra, and that hand came back out with a cookie.
I gingerly took the small wreath cookie out of his hand. “I was actually saving that for later.” I took a bite of the cookie. Frosting that had frozen to the top of my head during the walk over had started to melt and slowly dripped down my forehead.
“I’m going to be right back,” I said, face burning and more frosting melting. I scooted around him and jogged down the hall to the guest bedroom, dumped my purse by the bed, and stripped off my clothes on the tile floor of the bathroom after moving the bathmat so I wouldn’t ruin it. When I stepped into the shower, red, green, and blue colors swirled around me down the drain.
“I’m melting!” I yelled, doing my best Wicked Witch of the West until I remembered I was actually, you know, in an actual man’s house and should probably act like I wanted to get laid tonight.
I wrung out my hair and stepped out of the shower, drying myself off then stepping out into the guest bedroom.
I heard the sound of footsteps and turned around, clutching the towel like a fig leaf.
Matt stood there, looking like a kid on Christmas. Then, with a jerk as if his mind had kicked into gear, he said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. I heard you cry out. Thought you might have gotten started without me.”
I smiled at him. He said that he was sorry, but I could see the bulge growing in his boxer briefs.
“Nothing better than a big package on Christmas.”
“You should be sorry,” I said. “It's rude to unwrap a Christmas present early.”
He groaned at my pun but swayed toward me like a man who was rapt.
“But I have it on good authority that you're on the good list this year. You've earned a taste of sugar.”
With that, I dropped the towel.
It had no sooner hit the floor than Matt stepped into my space. He wrapped one strong arm around me, pulling me flush against his clothed body, as his lips descended over my own.
I parted my lips to open up to him — give him everything that he wanted because only the spirit of Christmas himself knew that I wanted everything from him in turn.
Finally, Matt broke the kiss. His hands went to my tits to play. His thumbs circled my nipples as he squeezed them and pushed them apart.
“Enjoying your presents?” I teased. “Looks like someone’s on Santa's good list.”
He glanced up at me, the faint exasperation in his eyes.
“Nothing like a Christmas pun!”
“I’m going to have to give your mouth something else to occupy it.”
“You first,” I countered. Then I hissed when he sank to his knees in front of me. My hands fell to his shoulders, partially to brace myself, partially just to hold on to something as he lipped and breathed slightly cool puffs of air over my pussy.
I spread my legs to give him better access. Then he wasthere, his lips and tongue caressing my clit. His free hand reached farther to probe and dip in and out of my entrance.
I moaned aloud, my knees going wobbly. I leaned on him more to keep myself upright.
“Matt…please…you're going to fuck me, right?”
