She let out a mischievous chuckle as her fingertips trailed along the thin strip of skin between my sweatshirt and waistband. She sang quietly, “Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree …”
All my protests evaporated as a jolt ran through my groin. Her walking fingertips continued past my waistband to explore the front of my pajama pants.
“I’ve been an awful good girl,” her singing voice was breathy as her fingertips brushed the crown of my hard-on. “Santa baby, hurry down the chimney tonight,” she sang, lightly skimming down my length towards my balls. Her touch along the fabric was feather-light along the sides of my shaft.
“You’ve officially ruined that song for me,” I complained.
“Be glad I chose that one instead of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town.’
“‘Here Comes Santa Claus.’”
“‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear."
My eyelids fluttered shut as her soft touch trailed up my cock. “Are you enjoying torturing me?”
“Immensely.” Her voice was thick with desire. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Fuck no,” I moaned as her palm traced the underside of my shaft.
“Good,” she said, her teasing touch matching her pouty tone. “Think of all the fun I’ve missed, think of all the fellas that I haven’t kissed …”
I restrained my hips from pulsing and bit my lip to keep from begging. “You’re killing me. Death by handjob,” I said and she let out a pleased snicker. “This is why I haven’t bothered with sex in years, because it’s —”
“I’m sorry, did you say years?” she repeated, incredulous, as her hand stilled.
I couldn’t believe I’d confessed that. I hadn’t spent time on foreplay or had a proper hand job in … god, I couldn’t remember how long.
“Yeah. Sex has been …” I wiped my face, but I didn’t have enough blood in my head to come up with the right word, “utilitarian.”
“Well, that changes things," she sounded dazed and removed her hand.
I wanted to scream. After a week of barely touching her, she’d had her hand wrapped around my cock and I felt her loss like an ice bath.
I didn’t even care about getting off. I mean, that’s not true, I did. God, I wanted to come so badly that it physically hurt. I wanted her body next to mine, her warm breath on my neck, her raspy voice in my ear, her gaze on my face watching every reaction as her fingers teased my dick.
She stood, hunching into the slanted roof, and flipped on the small lamp next to our makeshift bed, bathing the room in a warm glow. She pulled the blanket down to my waist, tracking a path with a lingering touch from my shoulders across my chest to my stomach. When she landed on my waistband, her lips parted before she pulled my pants and boxers down to my ankles and let my cock spring free.
And spring it did. My cock understood that she wanted a show and was ready and willing to oblige.
“I was looking forward to teasing you. But if it’s been that long …” I propped myself up against the headboard, her hair loose and eyes brimming with desire. She knelt between my spread legs. “I’ll save the teasing for next time.”
Next time. Not only had she been looking forward to teasing me, she was planning for the future. The Hallelujah chorus began in my head, my already enthusiastic dick leaping with joy as her fingers wrapped around the base.
Her hand was velvet around my hard shaft, and I felt her gaze like a soft caress. One hand gripped as the other slid down to the sensitive skin of my balls. My head fell back, slamming hard against the headboard.
“Alexander,” she said, her top hand running competently along my hardness, the thumb of her lower hand tracing exquisite circles on my sack.
I lifted my heavy eyelids. “Hmm?”
“Do you want me to be nice right now?” Her hand paused as she tilted her head to drop her long hair to one side, tickling the inside of my thigh. “Or do you want me to use my mouth for something naughty?”
Her lips wrapped around the head of my cock, swirling her tongue around my crown and leaving me dizzy. She spoke around my shaft, the reverberations sending electricity up my spine. “Grab a pillow to stay quiet.”
I pressed my mouth into the fabric, the soft texture of Grace’s hair sliding along my balls, the drawstrings of her hoodie tickling my thigh.
“Shit, Grace,” I whispered. “I’m not going to last if you keep —”
“Good,” she murmured around my cock. “Come in my mouth.”
She really did give with both hands — and her mouth — never taking anything for herself.
But what if she didn't resist what she wanted?
I needed to come so badly that it was nearly impossible to think. I looked down at her gorgeous face, her eyes anticipating my reactions, her pink lips wrapped around my cock, her hands stroking and caressing. It was the best view of my entire life … but there was something that would make it better: I wanted to watch her come while I did.
I mustered all my willpower to wrap her hair around my hand. I think she considered it a command because she sucked harder. I almost lost control before I pulled her mouth off my cock.
“You first, darling,” I whispered.
When she met my gaze, her eyes were incredulous. She shook her head, then tried to take me back in her mouth.
“I want to see you,” I begged. “Please.”
Holding her chin affectionately in one hand, I used my other hand to pry her fingers off my cock, then squeezed the base to slow myself down. The complete disbelief on her face told me that she understood the restraint. I let my eyes join my pleading.
“It’s not …” she said hesitantly, gaze rising towards the ceiling, all her confidence instantly evaporating. “It’s not that easy for me to — with another …”
I tilted her chin to meet my eyes. “If you don’t want to, that’s ok.”
