She opened her eyes and stared at me, smiling at my cock. I put my hand around it, a light circle formed by my thumb and middle finger, and ran it up and down gently.
She licked those luscious lips.
“My kind calls this Evernflun. It means to love each other in the open, flaws and beauty. And Fenashwa which means to please yourselves to prepare for the connection. Not exact translation but close.”
So she’d invited me to partake in tradition. And this was one I could totally see myself practicing more often. Every Christmas season should come complete with Evernflun and Fenashwa.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“You have no idea.”
“Do your people do this?”
“Some do…I guess…but not exactly like this,” I said.
“After this, you will come to me, and we will join.”
She was definitely calling the shots but I didn’t give a shit. I remember right after she said that, Christmas songs started flowing from outside. The elves were starting their nightly party. I was going to fuck an elf to Christmas music. That’s something even Santa doesn’t do every day.
As I watched Celise touch herself, I remember thinking my dick can’t possibly get any harder. It was so hard it hurt. It was hot and aching and I knew the only thing that might soothe it would be the feel of Celise’s wet pussy wrapped around it.
By this time I’d started to really tug on my cock. Celise watched me and something about her mouth hanging open to the point that I could see her teeth turned me on even more. She was rocking in her seat, riding her fist, fucking herself, and was speeding up to match my pace.
My dick felt so good in my hand, my thick vein at my palm, and my head threatening to burst at any moment. I needed to take it easy before I rubbed myself raw. Nothing sucks more than a cock rubbed tender.
I took my balls in my left hand and massaged them as I squeezed my cock tighter and choked it with each pull. My head fell back and my eyes closed and a moan escaped my lips. I wasn’t embarrassed. In fact, Celise mimicked me, letting her pleasure flow from her lips.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I leapt from the chair, stalked over to where she sat, put my cock in front of her face and helped her find it with her mouth. She took me in and sucked me like she wanted the surprise inside. She did something with her mouth I’d never felt before. Some kind of elven wizardry or something.
Her tongue swished around. Then the incredible happened. She reached behind me, grabbed my ass, dug her nails into my cheeks, and pulled me so hard into her mouth that I sank my entire cock into her throat. She held me like that while she slid her tongue out and started thrashing my balls with it.
I was weak in my knees. I wanted to laugh and cry and shout from the rooftops that I’d found the woman for me.
My legs shook and wobbled and I almost fell over. I had to grab the back of her chair and hold on as her tongue lashed out at my balls and snaked back in to lick the vein beneath my cock.
I seriously thought I was going to lose my mind. It was like my dick was on fire. She was touching nerves I never knew existed. Then suddenly she took me out of her mouth and stood up. She bent over the chair and held on, propping her ass up, putting her pussy in perfect pounding position.
She liked it doggy style.
“This is how we do it. Only like this,” she said. “For the best stimulation.”
I was, and still am, a fan of doggy style so I was excited. I reached between her ass cheeks and ran my hand from her pussy up to her ass crack, loving the wetness I felt. She was soaked and ready.
I lined up and was about to slide in when she shoved her ass backwards, forcing me in in a really rough way. I knew it had to be painful for her but she only squealed, pulled forward, then slammed back again.
And I tingled. Something, just like her mouth, was different about her pussy. It was like I’d stuck my cock into a wet hole full of fireworks or into an electrical socket. I felt sensations I can’t even describe. And she was so loud. She screamed and yelped and hollered and groaned. She wasn’t shy at all about her pleasure.
Outside, the elves partied and the loud music hid our wild time I’m sure, but I couldn’t help being a little bit embarrassed.
“Do it to me!” she yelled.
I slapped her ass so hard I left a welt on her backside. She loved it.
“Again!” she yelled.
I slapped her even harder. And slapped the other side.
“Fuck me, Sir!” she yelled. “Fuck me, Sir!”
I couldn’t fuck her any harder. I was driving as deep as I possibly could. She lifted a leg, put it on the chair, and reached for the table I’d shoved away. Holding on to both, I lifted up and plowed into her. She lifted her leg higher and then set it on the table. She was spread open so fucking wide, too wide, so wide I was afraid I’d hurt her.
“Harder!” she yelled.
I grabbed her hair and yanked her head back as I slammed my cock into her. She screamed and laughed. She loved it.
“Ahhhhhh ooooooh!” she yelled and it was a sound I’d never heard before, from somewhere deep in her gut, a sigh of ecstasy that sounded so intense I wanted to come with her.
And she squirted. She squirted so hard that her pink juices were flowing around my cock and down my balls. Her wetness ran down my legs and onto the floor.
“Don’t stop!” she yelled as she kept going even as her pussy spurted everything out of it.
I stood in a growing puddle and I kept fucking her, loving every second of it. It was so fucking hot. And when I came inside of her it was of no comparison. My balls tightened and I felt like I was letting go of life through my cock. It felt so fucking good. But what came out of the tip was so little compared to what she’d poured out.
And we collapsed onto my bed. I remember feeling so comfortable there, holding onto a woman. I didn’t care if she was an elf. I didn’t care what color she was or what crazy tattoo-like markings were on her pussy. I just cared that I wasn’t alone anymore.
And I’d heard elves live twice as long as a human. That meant I had a little more of this than I was used to.
As we lay there on my bed, spooning, she reached back and ran her hand around my balls.
“I am so happy to be your wife, Sir,” she said.
I had no idea what she was talking about. Then she told me that in her land, when a man and woman make love, they were joined until death. She seemed freaked out and sad that I didn’t know. Like she’d committed a great sin.
I assured her that there’d be no sin. I would marry her. She’d be my wife. And as she rejoiced at that news, she got up and leaned over, put her ass up in the air and said, “Now do to me again what you did before.”
That marriage lasted a long time. We had some troubles. The other elves talked a lot of course. But soon they came to respect her as Mrs. Claus. Nicholas and Madison weren’t thrilled about calling an elf mom, but they eventually realized I was happy and left it alone. The biggest problem I had with Celise is she turned out to be a thief.
Not a thief with bad intentions. She just wanted to take care of her people back in her dimension. So she’d take toys being prepared for Christmas and send them to her people. I had no idea for a long time but then I was filled in by a couple of elves who’d seen her.
I talked to her and we argued, fought really, but then had incredibly hot makeup sex and forgot about it.
But she did die. She hadn’t given wholeheartedly but instead had stolen toys so I knew as we grew old together that her time would come. I tried to prepare myself mentally but I just couldn’t. Celise was the most playful of my wives. She was always happy, always horny, and always active. If she wasn’t singing or dancing, she was cooking or decorating.
A sickness very common in her people’s elderly overtook her. She grew very frail and began to lose her memories and then her thoughts altogether. Similar to Alzheimer’s, she began to resemble a young child and soon withered away.
As usual, one day she was gone, and I was alone with only my sadness and whiskey.
Much like now as I sit and look over at Marlena. God, I had some great times and loved a lot. I loved more than most men ever get to. I loved so hard and so loyally that I amazed even myself.
But in the end it never matters.
Chapter 4
Marlena was and will be my final wife. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t fill my soul so fully with thoughts and feelings for another being and then allow it to burst like a balloon. It hurts. And she, Marlena, has meant more to me than any of the others.
She was the first wife I searched for. I knew that no woman would ever be granted everlasting life, to stay with me until time itself ended, but I held on to the hope that if one would just give wholeheartedly, just meet me in my need to give back to the world’s children, then maybe…just maybe…you never know.
I left the North Pole in February, just after Christmas season really winds down, and made my way through a few small towns. I stayed away from New York City and Chicago and my usual bachelor party-like haunts. I’d had so much sex in my life and had drank so much and had partied so hard that I think I’d finally gotten it out of my system.
This time was different. I was purposely looking for a great girl, a woman who volunteered or did charity work or…I don’t know…saved the whales? Something.
I tried a few little towns and eventually found myself in Anchorage, Alaska. Why Alaska? Well, I figured instead of searching for someone who’d have to adapt to a winter wonderland, I might as well find one already kicking it in one. But where in Anchorage, Alaska, do you meet women? Good women?
Church!
Yes, I went to church. I didn’t even know which church to try first. I’d always considered myself a religious man I guess. I prayed and I’ve always had a strong personal relationship with God…I mean I talk to an angel fairly frequently. But I hadn’t gone to church in a very long time.
I tried several churches. Evangelic, Catholic, and Baptist but I didn’t even know where to start. I mean I hadn’t brushed up on my church pickup lines. What had I even hoped to find in a church? I met my first wife at a ball, my second wife in her house on Christmas Eve, and my third wife was a fucking elf.
I’d just about given up on finding anyone. I drove to a diner, some kind of breakfast place, because I seriously just wanted to drown my sorrows in a giant glass of chocolate milk and a stack of pancakes.
Nicholas and Madison were back home, enjoying their lives with new spouses of their own and I couldn’t help thinking how sad they’d be if I returned empty handed. Empty handed, like I was a fucking pirate out looking for treasure or a Viking searching for a new town to pillage.
I was just an average man who didn’t age and lived in a fairytale world full of magical elves and reindeer that flew. Try mentioning that in a speed dating session.
I was sitting there trying to decide whether I wanted to go with the blueberry syrup or the pecan syrup when I heard a voice that immediately brightened my day.
“You could always mix them all together,” she said.
I looked up to see her standing with her fists at her hips and smiling down at me.
“Says Wonder Woman?” I joked.
She didn’t get it at first but then realized how she was standing and rolled her eyes.
“Yes, hurry up and eat and we’ll head out to my invisible jet.”
I looked out the window to the parking lot.
“I don’t see it.”
“Funny.”
“No, really it wasn’t,” I admitted. “It was really cheesy.”
I held out my hand for her to shake.
“Nick,” I said.
“Marlena,” she replied.
“That’s not what it says on your nametag, Stan.”
She laughed and her face turned red. She fumbled with the name tag, trying to remove it as quickly as possible and pricking her finger in the process. She shook off the finger and sucked on it.
“I’m so not a Stan,” she said as she removed her finger from her mouth. “The boss was here when I arrived and I left my nametag at home so I searched all over the back and found this one.”
“So you’d get in trouble if you weren’t wearing one?” I asked.
I wondered how my elves would feel about wearing nametags. It would definitely help me out but I didn’t think they’d like it. Then again, they liked just about everything. The Venti elves would complain about it though.
“Yeah, we’re supposed to wear ‘em.”
“Ok, Stan,” I said.
“Marlena,” she corrected me. “Mr…”
She looked closely at my shirt and the logo in the corner.
“Mr…Izod.”
I liked this girl right away. Her sarcasm was refreshing.
“Marlena, which syrup would you choose?”
“I’ve got an idea,” she said. “How about you close your eyes, I move them all around on the table, and you reach out and grab one? Whichever one you grab, you pour on your pancakes.”
“Oh that’s scary,” I said.
I looked around the dining room and saw that we were mostly alone. One old man read a newspaper in the far corner and a woman sat with her son doing the word search on the back of the kiddie menu. It seemed we had plenty of time to chat.
“Are you telling me you’re chicken?” she said with her hands again on her hips.
“You’re killing me with the…”
I put my fists to my hips just like her. She laughed and removed her fists.
“I don’t even know what to do with my hands,” she said. “You’re making me paranoid.”
“Let’s do the syrup dare,” I said.
I closed my eyes and started counting to ten. “1…2…3…4…”
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Hurry up, mix ‘em.”
“Okay, done,” she said.
I opened my eyes and found a puddle of syrup on my pancakes. She didn’t seem to understand the rules to her own game.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“You said mix ‘em.”
“You mixed all the flavors on my plate?”
“Yeah, you told me to.”
“No, you said you were going to mix them around on the table and I’d reach out and grab one.”
“That wouldn’t be mixing them,” she said. “That would be moving them around.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. In all my years living at the North Pole, I’d never had such a pointless but outstanding conversation. It was so light and fluffy. No stress. No pressure. Just random chatter about pancake syrup and the difference between mixing and moving. I loved it.
“Okay, well I’m not trying this flavor…orgy on my plate by myself,” I said.
“Flavor orgy?” she asked. “Oh you’re not one of those dirty minded perverts are you?”
“That depends,” I said.
“On what?”
“On which answer will get you to sit and try these pancakes with me.”
“I like dirty minded perverts,” she admitted. “As long as they know how to turn it on when it’s necessary and turn it off when it’s not.”
“Just eat pancakes with me.”
“I can’t. You wanna get me fired?”
“No, definitely not.”
I smiled up at her, not knowing where to take the conversation.
“Fine,” she said, reaching out to the next table over and grabbing an unused set of utensils wrapped in a napkin. She unrolled it and pulled out the fork. “Quickly though. And I’m just taking like one bite.”
I loved it. She was so great. She would fit in nicely at the North Pole. She had a lighthearted quality about her that I could sense. She was a good person.
She wouldn’t commit to the breakfast enough to actually sit down but she bent over with her fork ready. She blew a strand of hair out of her face and looked at me, waiting.
“Well…” she said
.
She held her fork out in front of her like a sword and I felt like we were preparing for a great duel. I wondered if I was supposed to count to three or say, “ready, set, go.”
“Okay, go,” I said.
We both cut off a piece of pancake, raised it to our lips, and hesitated. She closed her eyes and we both stuck our forks into our mouths. We chewed. Surprisingly, it was really good. My bite was anyway.
A Climax for Christmas (A Holiday Romance Novella) Page 4
