Rest Ye Merry Mermen & Moonlight and Mistletoe

by Megan Hussey

  “Tonight I want you to pleasure yourself,” he dug his strong, masculine hands into her stress-worn shoulders. “Watch a hot DVD, take a bubble bath, do whatever you usually do…”

  With this he started to plant sweet baby kisses along one side of her neck.

  “At the ‘moment of truth,’” he continued, “think only of me. Enjoy a delicious fantasy involving all the luscious things you’d like me to do to you; things you’ve always wanted a man to do but maybe were afraid to ask.”

  “Then tomorrow evening,” he nibbled and blew softly into her ear. “I will take these fantasies and make them all come true, one by one–I won’t stop until you are completely, totally satisfied.”

  He himself appeared well-satisfied a moment later, when she turned her head and seared him with a blue-eyed, blatantly seductive gaze.

  “Sounds like a good plan,” she told him, “with one important change.”

  Chuckling, the couple kissed sweetly before she continued.

  “I won’t need a DVD or a bubble bath,” she whispered. “Just the memory of this moment.”

  Chapter Six

  “Okay, so I fudged just a tad.”

  Later that evening, Sheila sank happily in the frothy suds of a steaming hot bubble bath.

  While shopping for lingerie at her favorite intimate apparel store, she selected a festive red lace negligee that boasted a handstitched sprig of mistletoe–placed just above the crotch.

  “Totally tasteless,” she assessed at first glance. “And being a guy, he’ll thoroughly appreciate and applaud that fact.”

  Then, after dining at her favorite restaurant, she returned home to watch an invigorating block of PlaygirlTV and indulge in a bubble bath.

  I know I told him I didn’t need all this, she thought. The fact is, though, I need to be as relaxed as possible for tomorrow.

  Furthermore, she did imagine the warm waters of the bubble bath as Derrick’s heated caress, and the steam that touched her face as his strong but gentle kiss.

  Suddenly a sharp wave of arousal canvassed her femininity, and she reached for a nearby shower massager for some much needed relief.

  She just as quickly dropped the massager as the loud, insistent ring of her doorbell disrupted her private paradise.

  Rising quickly from the bath, she grabbed a nearby white cotton robe and wrapped it securely around her soaking body.

  Who could it be, what do they want, and why oh why can’t it wait? she crossed her living room to the front door.

  Her chagrin turned to horror as she peered through the peephole to see Derrick, looking delicious in a black muscle T-shirt and inhumanly tight blue jeans.

  “He looks delicious, all right,” Sheila assessed, then, regarding her own ‘wet hair and bathrobe’ motif, “And I look wet.”

  Aloud she called, “Derrick, our date is for tomorrow night. Do yourself a favor and turn and run before you see me sans makeup.”

  A moment’s pause followed, after which a bewildered voice replied through the door, “I was told Santa Claus lived here. Do I have the right house?”

  Rolling her eyes, Sheila opened the door. “Derrick, I had heard that some of the Leveaux stockboys were into smoking ‘wacky tobacky.’ Please don’t tell me you’re one of them.”

  Derrick said nothing, only swept Sheila up into his arms for a heated, impassioned kiss.

  Her full, wet body slid sensuously against his hard, muscular one, and Sheila wrapped her arms tightly around his firm shoulders.

  Their kiss was almost desperate in its passion and hunger, and their mouths and tongues engaged in a most pleasurable greeting, communicating far more than words possibly could say.

  Eventually, though, Derrick set Sheila before him and stared deeply into her eyes.

  “Well, you wanted to see Santa Claus,” Sheila whispered, tone slightly breathless and eyes wide with desire. “You got her. Did you have a special Christmas wish, Young Man?”

  Derrick shook his head, leading Sheila to a comfortable recliner at the center of the room. Taking her arms in his hands, he set her gently down in the seat and stood tall and proud before her.

  “If I’m going to make a request of Santa–that is, Sheila–I have to follow protocol,” he raised a manly finger for defined emphasis.

  Then, unceremoniously, he plopped himself down on Sheila’s lap.

  “Well, that’ll work!” she grinned giddily as Derrick wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gave her a warm, affectionate kiss.

  Planting her hand on his denim-clad, rock hard thigh, she asked, “So, what do you want for Christmas?”

  Tipping his head, Derrick pursed his lips thoughtfully before answering.

  “Well, I’d like the entire Henry Miller book collection and a year’s supply of Turtle Wax for Ye Olde Auto Wreck out there in the driveway,” he began, then, searing her with a blatantly sexual gaze, “What I want most, though, is to bring you a heated night of mind-blowing passion; one you’ll never forget.”

  Sheila blushed as she felt a bolt of sexual electricity course through her private area–leaving her warm and wet.

  “I’m sure he’ll be able to feel the effects, sitting in my lap and all,” she gritted her teeth embarrassedly.

  All doubt of this relinquished moments later, as Derrick turned slowly in Sheila’s lap and straddled her in the chair. Then, staring deeply into her eyes, he pressed his body hotly against hers and began to grind his hips into the soft folds of her cotton velour robe.

  Sheila snorted, raising her chin defiantly.

  “You hope to win brownie points with Sheila Claus by giving her a lap dance?” she snorted.

  Yet she shivered involuntarily as his suggestive moves lit a fire in the pit of her stomach–one that spread slowly but surely downward.

  She could feel the bulge of his shaft through his jeans, and the teasing, thrusting movements of his perfect hips. Then he leaned forward, nibbling her ear as his massive, muscular chest pressed thrillingly against her.

  After playfully tossing his long blond hair full in her beaming face, he told her, “Sweetheart, I know you’re nervous about tomorrow night. And I didn’t want you to sit here alone, dreading what is supposed to be a wonderful, special time for both of us.”

  Sheila bit her lip, and her eyes misted strangely as she considered Derrick’s sweet words.

  “You are so kind,” she praised him, cupping his perfect face in her hands.

  “Not to mention inventive,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “After all, there’s nothing like a good lap dance to lift a woman’s spirits.”

  Chuckling, Derrick leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

  “This is only the beginning, my sweet,” he assured her.

  With this, he buried his head in her neck and ran his full, delicious tongue down her chin to her shoulders. Then, gently opening her robe, he stared admiringly at her breasts before licking and nipping their tops, and laving her nipples until they were hard and erect.

  He next tossed the tickling strands of his golden hair teasingly across her rounded abdomen, and worshipfully kissed the belly other men mocked.

  “You are so beautiful,” he rubbed her arms with tender, ravenous hands. “I’m going to make you feel as luscious as you are.”

  Both excited and sedated by her lover’s tender ministrations, Sheila moaned outright as he lowered himself between her legs and parted her knees reverently.

  Grinning devilishly up at her, he promised, “Now I’m going to give you a real taste of the pleasure I can show you.”

  With this, he leaned forward and teasingly licked her feminine folds. This sensation, combined with the sumptuous feel of his long, silky hair strands as they tickled her thighs, prompted Sheila to throw her head back and hiss like a feline in heat–then eagerly part her legs as far as she could to give him full access to her throbbing, feminine jewel.

  Growling, Derrick fixed his luscious lips around her clit and suckled her with expert slowness. His lips, teeth,
and tongue applied gentle pressure to increase her arousal, and his hands lovingly caressed her womanly hips.

  Arching her back, Sheila dug her fingers into Derrick’s hair as her pleasure intensified. She then thrust her hips boldly forward, closing her eyes as a smoldering inferno swept through her femininity and consumed her entire body.

  Murmuring his approval, Derrick shifted his head to apply still more pleasure to her throbbing nub, and his mouth created a heated pressure that eventually burst into a sharp, reverberating spasm.

  Moaning loudly, Sheila leaned forward to wrap her trembling arms around Derrick’s firm, muscular shoulders.

  “That was incredible,” she kissed his forehead.

  She further delighted as he continued his sensual, unhurried exploration of her body, rubbing her legs with slow, massaging movements and even sucking her toes.

  “You are unreal,” Sheila accused, finally standing from her chair and unabashedly displaying her body for his viewing pleasure.

  Derrick leaned back, devouring her bare, voluptuous form with an intense gaze.

  “Look who’s talking,” his eyes shone with sheer wonder. “You’re ravishing.”

  Sheila grinned proudly, obviously pleased. Then she stepped sharply away from the chair and crooked her finger seductively.

  “Now it’s your turn in the hot seat,” she pointed to the seat before her, adding informatively, “I fully intend to rip every shred of clothing from your body and feast my mouth on that big, delicious shaft.”

  Chuckling, Derrick rose from the floor and wrapped Sheila’s naked, sated body warmly in his arms.

  “A very tempting offer,” he kissed her lips affirmingly. “Remember, though, that tomorrow is the night for us to share pleasure. Tonight is just for you.”

  As if to prove his point, he held her gaze as he grabbed hold of his sleek, black muscle T-shirt and peeled it slowly and teasingly from his body.

  Sheila gaped openly at her first sight of his bulging, muscular chest and rippled abdomen. She further delighted when he slipped his tight blue jeans with agonizing slowness down his toned, taut legs, revealing a sleek black silk Speedo.

  And a long, hard, bulging erection.

  “You sure you don’t want me to take care of that?” Sheila pointed with wide eyes at his impressive package.

  Chuckling, Derrick shook his head and gestured toward Sheila’s couch; a work of cushiony ivory velour that often served as her favorite napping spot.

  “All I want you to do is lay face down on that couch,” he invited softly.

  Sheila raised a caustic eyebrow in his direction.

  “Honey, I won’t go that route even for you. Even my gynecologist has to spring for dinner and a movie before he gets that invasive.”

  Her frown disappeared, however, as Derrick swept her up into his masculine arms and carried her to her couch. Using the utmost care, he laid her gently on her stomach–allowing her body to sink luxuriously in its softened depths.

  “Like I said, this evening is supposed to be a relaxing one,” his tone softened. “I won’t be ‘going that route;’ just giving you a nice back massage.”

  To illustrate this point, he dug his hands into her broad, tension-strained shoulders and rubbed them into a softened, relaxed state. His tickling fingertips played thrillingly against her spine, then made broad circles across her back.

  His agile fingers then moved downward to rub and caress her abundant waist, then lightly and teasingly pinched her exposed behind.

  Abruptly Sheila raised her head. “I thought this was supposed to be a back massage, Dearie.”

  Derrick grinned, winking.

  “So do you want me to restrict my territory to your back?” he asked.

  “Don’t you dare,” Sheila waved a cajoling finger in his direction. “I want your hands all over me, in as many patterns and formations as humanly possible. Have I made myself perfectly clear? Good. Thank you.”

  Soon, however, Sheila drifted well past the point of coherent speech or thought. Lulled into a pleasant trance by Derrick’s ministrations, she fell into a light sleep.

  Her dreams took Derrick’s massage to the next level, and she felt him inside her–his hands, mouth, and cock bringing her incredible pleasure.

  Tomorrow night, she grinned almost drunkedly, my dreams will be realized.

  Yet why should they wait? Derrick was here, in the flesh (and how!). Why should she delay the inevitable?

  Shaking herself awake, Sheila opened her mouth to invite her lover into her bedroom.

  She just as quickly closed it, however, when she saw that Derrick was gone–and in his place was a note that lay on her dining room table, under the sprig of mistletoe he had removed from her front door.

  “I don’t want that delivery dude getting any bright ideas,” the note explained, then went on to read, “I would have loved to stay here with you tonight, Sweetie, but my night job calls me away.”

  “Tomorrow, however,” it continued, “I’m all yours. Love, Derrick.”

  “Love.” The word seemed almost indecipherable to Sheila, who returned to her seat on the couch and took a deep, fortifying breath.

  This is all moving so quickly, she wrapped her arms protectively around herself. Too quickly–but it feels too good to stop.

  Furthermore, she wondered about this ‘night job’ that Derrick frequently referred to but never identified.

  While he greatly enjoyed talking about school, books, and every other aspect of his life, he never discussed the second job that consumed so much of his time.

  As a co-worker and casual friend, it was really none of my business, she rose and made a slow, weary trek to her living room window. As a lover, though, I deserve to know.

  Tomorrow evening, she assumed, she would be too distracted–if not outright delirious–to ask that question.

  “I’ll ask him at lunch tomorrow,” she decided.

  In the meantime, she reveled in the rays of radiant moonlight that flowed freely through her window.

  Everything seems so new to me, she stretched with a broad, dreamy smile.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning found a particularly chipper Santa and elf greeting visitors to the holiday section of Leveaux department store.

  Derrick finally found a sprig of mistletoe for sale on the decoration shelf, and placed it teasingly on Sheila’s chair.

  In return, Sheila ventured into the small appliances department and retrieved a handheld shower massager, handing it to Derrick with a catlike smile.

  “Mmmm,” he regarded the apparatus with curious eyes. “Somehow I just don’t get the romantic symbolism, Sheila.”

  Shrugging, Sheila replied coyly, “It represents the fate you so gallantly saved me from last night.”

  Before Derrick could respond, the couple was interrupted by an approaching customer; a well-dressed, middle-aged woman accompanied by a young boy.

  “I hate to disrupt your little chat,” the woman sniffed, “but my son wants to see Santa Claus. Where is he?”

  Stepping forward, Sheila greeted their two newest customers with a friendly smile.

  “Santa is preparing for his Yuletide trip around the world,” she patted the boy’s head. “I’m Sheila Claus, his second cousin twice removed. Ha! Ha! Ha!”

  The woman shook her head, regarding her through narrowed eyes.

  “Let me guess,” she rolled those same eyes, tone dry. “You were the only one who fit in the suit.”

  Without awaiting a reply, the woman shoved her son rudely in Sheila’s direction.

  “Read the woman your Christmas list while I shop,” she commanded.

  Taking her seat, Sheila took the quiet boy into her lap and smiled pleasantly at his surly mother.

  “Ma’am, just to make your shopping experience easier, the PMS medication is on aisle five; the anti-aging cream, aisle ten.”

  Pausing, she gestured toward the shower massager in Derrick’s hand.

  “And you coul
d really use one of those, Ma’am,” she advised.

  Reddening, the woman’s gaze moved slowly from the massager to the man who held it.

  Her eyes widening abruptly. “What are you doing here?”

  Derrick shifted his feet, obviously uncomfortable.

  “You must mistake me for someone else,” his own face reddened slightly. “I’m sure we’ve never met.”

  The woman paused, cocking her head curiously.

  “No, I’m sure it was you,” she said finally. “Of course, you’re wearing more clothing than when we last met.”

  Sheila’s eyes widened and she braced her hands on the arms of her chair. Her gaze moved slowly between the customer and Derrick, who seemed more uncomfortable with each passing moment.

  “As I said, Ma’am, I’m sure I don’t know you,” he insisted. “You must be mistaken; I don’t know where we could have met.”

  With this he drew himself up, staring at her with a hardened gaze.

  “What I do know, though, is that you should apologize to my girlfriend,” he glared at the unwelcome customer. “Your comments to her were very rude.”

  The woman drew back, gaping.

  “Who are you to talk to anyone else about inappropriate behavior?” she asked.

  Sniffing loudly, she pulled her son briskly from Sheila’s lap and walked with quick steps toward the door.

  “Let’s go, Son,” she tilted her chin proudly. “We’re going to find you a real Santa–with a decent, reputable helper.”

  Sheila waited until the pair left then turned abruptly toward a silent, noticeably unhappy Derrick.

  “Who was she?”

  Derrick shrugged, smiling slightly.

  “A bitch,” he replied helpfully.

  Sheila was unamused.

  “She knew you,” she insisted. “How?”

  “I have no idea, Sheila,” Derrick’s tone sounded slightly heated. “As I told her, she must have me confused with another person.”

  Sheila snorted, waving away this assertion.

  “Derrick, it would be nice indeed if even a quarter of the men who walked this planet resembled you,” she snorted, “but, sadly, very few do.”