Page 6 of Christmas D*ck

I gazed back at him, frozen by uncertainty. It was go time, and I was stuck somewhere between what my mouth wanted to say and what my mind would allow me to do. I weighed the pros of beginning a journey I wouldn’t be able to walk away from once I started.

I’d never see him again. The night would simply be a story I’d tell during future Christmas gatherings. It either be a tale of regrets or of accomplishments.

I swallowed heavily and reached for his belt.

Kaci stood with her back pressed tightly against the wall behind us. Somewhat blind as to her presence, I unbuckled his belt and blindly shoved my hand into his tight-fitting jeans.

As I fumbled to find the answer, I gazed into his intense brown eyes. Then, I found it.

It found me would be a more accurate statement.

I’d been told in the past that my hands were dainty. I disagreed. They merely leaned toward the feminine side of average. Nonetheless, with his massive shaft gripped in my palm, I couldn’t get my fingers all the way around it.

I could feel the blood pulsing thorough his giant chunk of manhood with each beat of his heart. Steadily and predictably, it pulsed.

Da-duhm…da-duhm…da-duhm.

Mine, on the other hand, was racing.

Dadumdadumdadumdadumdadumdadum.

He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

Kaci’s wide-eyed stare from behind him reminded me that Dick and I weren’t alone. I imagined her devouring a bucket of popcorn as she waited for the mystery of Dick’s dick to be solved.

His shaft stiffened in my hand until it felt like a steel rod. As the elevator’s buzzer wailed from the overhead speakers and the doors repeatedly attempted to close, I squeezed it firmly and grinned a sly grin.

“I think you should change your name,” I said flatly.

He pushed his hips closer to mine. “To what?”

“Tiny,” I said with a laugh. “I think it’s more appropriate.”