by Strong, Mimi
After the games, the music got turned up and people started dancing. Trevor and I made it through three songs, but the third one was a slow song, and as he pressed against me, I could tell he was thinking about the hotel room waiting for us upstairs, and all the things he was going to do to me.
I couldn't keep my hands off him, so I begged him to take me away before I embarrassed both of us in front of his co-workers.
He wrapped his arms around me and reached down to scoop both of my butt cheeks with his hands. “It's a Christmas party. Somebody has to do something outrageous.”
I pressed my body against his. “One more minute and I'm going to stick my little champion-gift-wrapping hands down your trousers and fish around for something to tie a bow around.”
His eyebrows shot up. “We should check on that hotel room. Make sure it's acceptable.”
“Sure.”
“We can always come back down to the party.”
My tone joking, I said, “Sure we can. That's totally going to happen.”
He ducked his head and looked both ways, then grabbed my hand and we snuck out without even saying goodbye to anyone.
We got in the elevator and he pressed the button for the top floor. My heart swooped with excitement as the elevator whooshed us up. I love that feeling when you reach the top, and you're light as air for an instant before you come to a stop. The sensation in my guts was a lot like the one I got when Trevor looked at me—a fluttering, like my heart had wings.
We walked down the hall, holding hands, and Trevor cursed the keycard for not working on the first try.
I snaked my arm around his waist and slipped between him and the door. “Guess you'll just have to ravage me in this hallway.”
He dropped to his knees and pushed the hem of my dress up, then kissed my mound through my panties, his breath hot.
I moaned and rested my head back against the door. “We should stop,” I said. “But don't.”
He massaged me with his lips and tongue, and then used one hand to pull my underwear to the side. He proceeded to lick up and down my lips, then slid the tip of his tongue around and around my nub. It seemed so natural to him, to pleasure me so easily. One hand was on my buttock, the other gently probing inside me, and he licked me so hard I saw stars.
I gasped, then said, “Save some for the room. I don't want to come out here in this hallway. I want you inside me.”
He gave me one more incredible lick, and then two more. He would have kept going until he had me shuddering on his tongue and finger, if I hadn't pushed him away.
I tried my keycard in the door, and this time it worked.
Inside the room, we fumbled in the dark, each trying to undress the other at the same time. I was so hot from him licking me in the hallway, I was practically growling with frustration at how many buttons he had on his shirt.
We got naked and he pulled down the hotel bed covers and jumped on the white sheets. “Is this okay?” he asked as he switched on one of the lamps. “I want to see your beautiful body.”
“Sure.” I got up on the bed and crawled toward him like a panther.
He squirmed and said, “Sorry you have to look at me in this light.” He reached for the lamp, but I grabbed his arm.
“What are you talking about?”
He patted his stomach. “I'm not the skinniest guy. I know that. Not like all those tight bodies on all your friends and everyone at the theater.”
“Like who?”
“Like your friend Chad, and all those other people in the Nutcracker. I don't think there was five pounds of fat between the lot of them.”
I laughed because it was true, but stopped laughing when I realized Trevor was serious.
I straddled him, rocking my pussy against his semi-firm erection. He'd been hard in the hallway, but something was distracting him.
“Trevor, I sometimes sense you pulling away from me. I always assumed it was because of your marriage, your baggage from that. Are you telling me you're embarrassed about your beautiful body?” I ran my fingers through his curly, dark chest hair and over his taut nipples.
“I don't look like a calendar model,” he said, frowning. “I don't have a perfect body like you.”
“But you do. You do have a perfect body. You're strong, and you're healthy. You haven't had so much as a cold in the time I've known you. You're incredibly handsome, and all the women in your office have a crush on you … except my sister, of course, but she doesn't have good taste like I do.”
He turned his head to the side and closed his eyes as though blocking me out.
I leaned forward, resting on my arms against his broad chest, and stared at him silently until he opened his eyes and looked at me.
“You are perfect,” I said. “In every way. I love your body. I love your smile. I love everyone about you.” My eyes started to water. My voice was shaking. “I love you, Trevor.”
His chest shook as he took in a deep breath, almost like a sob. “You don't have to say that.”
“I know. But I did. And I mean it.”
He put his big hands on either side of my face and kissed me. “I love you too, Naomi.”
A drop of water landed on his cheek, and I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“Oh no,” he said.
“I'm fine.” I sniffed. “These are happy tears.”
I mashed my lips into him and kissed him, tenderly. We kissed and kissed, and I felt his passion for me growing. I was up high on his chest, so we were lip to lip, and he curled his torso up and nudged me down. I felt the head of his cock between my legs, stiff and pushing against my entrance. I wriggled some more, and slid down on him, gasping at the sudden fullness.
I'd had my period the week before, so we hadn't been together like this for what felt like an eternity. His big, stiff cock always felt so surprising inside me, but just for a moment. All my nerve endings in my pussy lit up happily and sang his praises as he rocked me up and down on him.
He kept rocking his hips under me, pushing a little at a time, easing in. As it always did, his cock felt so, so, so good. From clit to back was tingling, alive, my pussy so full and deliciously stretched.
Soon he was all the way in, filling me to maximum pleasure, and I felt the tickle of his balls against my crack. I quickened the pace as I felt my orgasm coming, until I was riding him in a desperate fashion, panting and moaning, slipping up and down.
I didn't even realize he was also coming until he made a noise, a moan, and then as he came inside me, my orgasm rose up and shot through me like fireworks.
I was upright by now, on my knees, rocking my hips back and forth. He arched his back and pushed up like a bridge underneath me, supported by his heels and his shoulders. His face was so beautiful as he came.
At least, we sank back down into the bed, and I collapsed onto his chest so I could kiss his neck and chin.
“Wow,” I said. “You were like a real … rodeo bull or something there for a minute.”
He opened his eyes and gazed down into mine. “I know! That was just … oh, Naomi, that was incredible.”
I rolled myself off him and snuggled up higher on the bed on my side, resting my cheek on his outstretched arm. I twirled my finger through his chest hair.
“That was different,” I said. “I guess we were … making love?”
“Maybe,” he said, rolling to face me. “I think I felt more free, because for the first time in years, I stopped worrying about how I look.”
“Really?”
He kissed me. “It's all you, Naomi. I love you. Cute, adorable, sexy, fun, smart, sassy ...”
“Don't stop.”
He kissed me on the forehead, the nose, and then the lips, lingering.
“Should we go back to the party?” he asked.
“Do you wanna go back?”
“I probably should, since I'm the boss.” He pulled his hand away, got up from the bed, then grabbed the top linens from where they'd crumpled to the floor and jumped back i
n next to me, yanking the covers up over us. “Fuck it,” he said. “I'm the boss, which means I don't have to go.”
“Ooh, the boss.” I rolled in closer to him. “You can boss me around any time. I'll do anything for you, Mr. Boss Man.”
His tone got more serious, and he said, “Tonight, though, you have to sleep. It's your big day tomorrow, and I don't want to see you yawning up on stage during the sugar beet dance or whatever it's called.”
I smiled. “Sugar plum fairy?”
“That could work too,” he said.
Part 4: The Nutcracker
Trevor came to see me on opening night. I managed to sneak out in a trenchcoat and say hello to him before the show. I found him in the lobby with my parents, enjoying a glass of wine.
“Oh, I wish I could have one,” I said, taking a deep sniff of the wine.
“After the show, I'll buy you a whole bottle,” my father said.
Nikki wasn't there that night, but she was coming to one of the upcoming weekend matinees. I'm not one of those people who twists everyone's arm to come see her perform, but I admit I do enjoy the shows better when a loved one is in the audience.
Trevor gave me a hug and said, “You should know, I'm not a virgin. I've seen The Nutcracker before.”
My parents looked confused, so I explained, “When you see Rocky Horror for the first time, like Trevor did, you're a virgin.”
My mother put her hands on her hips proudly. “I'm definitely not a virgin!”
A few people turned and gave us funny looks.
“I should go.” I gave them all hugs, and then Trevor handed me something he'd been holding behind his back: a bouquet of red roses.
He said, “I can hold them for you after the show, if you want.”
I snatched them from his hands. “And miss showing them off right now to the other girls? No way.”
The performance went well, considering how many people had been shuffled around. One of the women in my group looked about sixty, but the woman could dance and sing, and she kicked my out-of-shape butt.
We performed the Waltz of the Snowflakes, and I was shocked to realize the show was half over. Time had flown so quickly on stage. We all hydrated and changed costumes as the stage hands cleared the sets. I had barely caught my breath, and we were dancing the Waltz of the Flowers, with an army of pre-teens from a local dance school. For some of them, it was their first big performance, and I felt so much joy to share in their excitement.
Yes, mistakes were made. A few people missed their cues, and my nose told me one of the daisies may have peed his or her pants. At least they were cute.
We finished, took our bows, and then the stage manager, Roger, came running over to me.
He said, “We have a Nutcracker down. Do you think your big boyfriend would mind putting on the costume and sitting for some photos with the kids?” He pressed his palms together. “Oh, please, please, please, say yes.”
“I can ask. And his name's Trevor.”
He held one hand over his chest and bowed. “Oh thank god.”
I ran out, still in full costume as a flower, and found Trevor. I explained the situation.
My father said, “I'll do it.”
“I'm sorry Dad, but the costume won't fit you. Our guy who plays the Nutcracker for appearances with the kids is very tall.”
Everybody turned to look at Trevor.
“Of course I'll do it,” he said.
We rushed him backstage, and quickly got him suited up. The kids in the lobby were already lining up, and some were cranky, as it was past their bedtime.
I left him in capable hands, got my makeup scrubbed off, and changed into some comfortable jeans.
When I returned, Trevor was already out in the lobby, greeting kids. I stood off to the side and watched him. He looked so handsome in the costume, from the tall black hat to the red jacket, fake sword at his side. They'd put eyeliner in exaggerated lines around his eyes, darkened his already thick eyebrows, and added round circles of red to his cheeks. As he was clean-shaven, they'd glued on a big, black mustache that curled up at the ends.
He looked like a dashing soldier, and my heart pounded in my chest when he looked up and made eye contact with me, his golden-brown eyes sparkling as he joked around with the kids.
Our regular kid-greeting Nutcracker was back to work the following night. It turned out he hadn't broken anything or succumbed to Mono; he'd simply gotten his dates mixed up. This Nutcracker was good, but he was goofy, and Trevor had played the part straight and serious.
The weird thing is, after seeing Trevor in that red jacket, and getting so turned on by seeing him play the role, I could barely look at the red jackets without getting turned on.
After our final performance, I talked to the costume designer and managed to borrow the tall-fitting red jacket and a hat.
On Christmas Eve, I went over to Trevor's house for the night. I told him to put in the contents of the bag I'd brought over and wait for me in the bedroom.
I ran off to the other upstairs bathroom and got changed into my costume. I'd adapted some things from my personal collection, mixing them with pieces from my wardrobe for the play. I basically looked like a very slutty sugar plum fairy.
As I skipped down the hall, I hoped Trevor was as turned-on as I was.
I knocked on the bedroom door and he opened, his face serious and his posture stiff.
“Hello, handsome soldier,” I said. “Do you know how to get to the Magic Castle on the Mountain of Sweets?”
He pointed to his crotch, his face still serious. “The Mountain of Sweets is right here.” He cracked a bit of a grin. “You can suck on as much candy as you find.”
“I should dance for you.” I ran my hands across his broad chest and then all the way down his front, cupping, massaging, and releasing.
“Sorry, I didn't hear you. Someone was touching my balls.”
I kissed him, enjoying the tickling sensation of the fake mustache on his upper lip, then I pulled back and performed a very unorthodox routine, half sugar plum fairy and half striptease. I performed several free spins and kicks, my body working from memory.
When I finished, I was in a soft, lace undershirt and the tiniest g-string panties that were just short of invisible.
Trevor stood at attention as I climbed onto his bed, rolled onto my back, and kicked my legs in the air like fluttering stems.
“Ma'am, I'm on duty,” he said.
“Soldier, I won't tell if you take a break.”
He looked around, hamming it up, then whispered, “The Mouse King could be anywhere. We must always be on guard.”
“Oh, I knocked him out with my shoe. He'll be out cold for at least an hour. So why don't you come over here, and put your cock right here.” I squeezed my breasts together.
He took off his hat and started unbuttoning the red jacket, walking toward me with his eyes trained on mine.
“Leave the mustache on,” I said.
He put hit hands on my legs and pulled them apart. “Won't it tickle when I eat your pussy?”
I reached out and yanked the mustache off. He finished undressing, stripping off his trousers and underwear. The other soldier in the room was at attention.
I grabbed his firm cock in my hand and milked it, tickling my fingertips on the little ridge of skin along the underside.
He pulled away from me and knelt at the foot of the bed. He grabbed my legs and shifted me down so my buttocks were at the edge. He didn't even take off my little g-string, but just pushed it aside with two fingers and sank his lips down onto my mound. The world around us disappeared as I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his wet tongue sliding around, up and down my folds so smoothly. His breath was hot as he licked over and around my nub, flicking it and licking it, sucking at the skin along the sides.
I clutched the bedcovers in my hands and moaned in pleasure. He worked my clit, putting on pressure until I was just about over the edge, and then easing back, over an
d over. Finally, after an eternity of taking me there and pulling me back, he reached forward and grasped my breasts through the thin, lace camisole, and bore down on me with his lips and tongue.
When I came, I felt like I was melting, a puddle of ecstasy. He slid in as I was coming, his cock moving in easily on all my juices. I cried out in pleasure and the rode into me, pushing me up onto the bed as he went, both of us moving together. His shaft plunging inside me drove my pleasure to unimaginable heights, until I was whimpering and sighing, completely overwhelmed.
He stopped rocking for a moment and stroked the side of my face. “I love making you come.”
“Same,” I said, squeezing his buttocks.
“Would you mind if I ...” He glanced down in embarrassment.
“What? I'd do anything for you.”
“It's gross. Total guy thing, and I'm sorry to even mention it.”
“Trevor, you have to tell me what it is, and I'll be the judge of whether or not I'll do it. I kinda owe you, after you dressed up like the Nutcracker for me.”
He frowned. “That was for you? I thought that was for me.”
I squeezed my pelvic muscles around his cock. “Now what was it you wanted?”
He said, “I'd like to,” he made the motion of jerking off, “and then you-know, right on your boobs.” He made an apologetic face.
I grabbed his face and looked him in the eyes. “I'd love to do that for you.”
He grinned sheepishly and pulled out of me. I stayed lying back on the bed, and he sat astride my stomach, his soldier at attention. He was hesitant at first, touching himself and then looking around nervously.
I licked my lips, then wet one of my fingers and drew it across one of my nipples, hardening it. His eyes grew big and he watched my hands, his own hand movements becoming more confident.
I enjoyed watching him, seeing him in pleasure, and when he did come, spurting onto my stomach and breasts, I felt nothing but joy and satisfaction.
He grinned, saying, “Don't move,” and he grabbed some tissues from next to the bed and tidied me up. He sighed and lay down next to me. “Don't think I want to do that all the time, because I don't, but it's been sorta one of my fantasies for a while.”
