by Fox, Logan
This time, my muscles are too tight for me to nod.
So I moan in consent.
Joshua
Holly leans back for me when I go to my knees in front of her. She kicked off her sandals a while ago already, don’t ask me when. One foot slides onto my shoulder, the other onto the back of a bar stool. She spreads her legs, blinking down at me for all the world as if waiting for me to critique her pussy.
“Delicious,” I murmur up to her, throwing her a quick smile.
She brings a finger to her mouth, and slips her nail between her teeth, biting down on the tip.
My dick throbs once, hard, and I hurriedly drop my gaze before I end up coming in my pants instead of in her.
I graze my nails over her thighs, watching goose bumps break out over her ivory skin. My lips brush the inside of her thighs. Her warmth, her lust, rises up to meet me as I draw near. I tug away her folds, baring a cachous-pink pussy.
She’s almost completely shaved — except for the perfect triangle of pastel blue hair above her clit.
Pointing, like an arrow, to that most sensitive of targets.
My lips purse and I press them to her clit. Holly’s hand finds its way into my hair. She tugs on it, groaning, shuddering under me.
And then she scoots forward on the table, pressing hard against my lips. I draw away, denying her that overwhelming pleasure for a lesser, more subtle sensory input — my tongue.
Gliding it between her parted folds, I spear into her warmth. I want to feel her shivering around me.
“Josh, fuck, slow down.”
But I wasn’t going fast. I was taking my sweet time—
“Please, you’re going to make me come. I don’t wanna. Not yet. Please.”
She starts rambling, but I’m pretty sure it would take a miracle for my tongue to do any damage down here.
But those mournful, crooning words of hers are making my dick ache and throb and pulse so hard against my briefs, she’ll have me coming with just a hand in my hair.
So I stab into her one last time. And then drag my tongue out and slide it glacier-slow up the folds of her sex.
And flick it hard against her clit, for good measure.
Holly
Oh, fuck. All the pretty little lights. I’m going to tear a muscle, tensing like this. I yank on Josh’s hair, warning him not to touch my clit again.
He listens.
That or he just can’t hold himself back anymore.
Because when he comes up from his knees, sliding the back of his hand over his mouth like he’s just devoured a bucket of chicken…
Those eyes of his are predatory in their hunger.
I won’t lie, I’m a little shaken. My heart’s all like thump-thump in my chest. I can feel my pulse pounding in my neck and throbbing in my mouth.
“I think it’s time you have something a little bigger shoved up there.”
Oh dear God, I think I just came a little. I squeeze my legs shut and lust oozes from me. Josh leans forward, slides his hands under my legs, and hoists me off the counter.
Shit, he’s strong.
His hands slide up my back, until my knees are hiking up his arms, and then he swings around, carrying me off.
He tries to nuzzle my neck, but I grab his face and drag it up to my mouth. When I find his lips, they’re hesitant to part. But I force my way in and he eventually relents, letting me taste myself on his tongue.
My shoulder crashes into something hard. I gasp into his mouth, twisting my shoulder away from the pain.
“Sorry,” he breathes over my lips. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“’S fine.” I resume our kiss, but a second later he releases me.
I’m almost screaming, but the bed knocks the wind from my lungs before a sound can come out. I lie there, knees bent, eyes wide, watching as Josh starts to unbutton his shirt.
Fuck, I think I’m going to have a heart attack.
My heart slams into my chest as if it wants out. My stomach is so tight, you could use it for a dance floor.
“How close were you, really?” he asks, pausing on the third button.
The third button!
I swallow hard and lick my lips. “What?”
“You said I was going to make you come.”
“You were. I was.” I hold up my hand, thumb and index finger a hair’s breadth apart. “This close.”
My gaze latches to those slender fingers of his. Those manipulative, ecstasy-inducing fingers. Another button. Shit, he’s teasing me, isn’t he?
Well, tit for tat.
I sit up and shrug out of my jersey. Josh’s eyes flicker — as if he wants to look at my bared shoulders but can’t stand to take his eyes off my face.
Good. That’ll make this all the more difficult for him to endure.
I slide my fingers under my vest and push the left shoulder down my arm. Josh retaliates by undoing another button. I can see his belly button now — it’s nothing but a little slit in his skin. There’s a light dusting of black hair forming a steadily thickening line downward.
Yeah, you know where it leads.
Right to that cock of his, the one straining to get out of his pants.
I have seen it before. Remember, at my dad’s work? But now… I think it’s probably twice the size. Maybe more. I’m sure it’s gotta hurt, that thing being trapped inside there.
Like I’m hurting. Aching, throbbing, yearning for touch. For him to be inside me.
I shiver at the thought of hime inside me, filling me.
His shirt flutters to the floor.
The bedroom is dimly lit — he never turned on the light but there’s some streaming in from the living area. It kind of silhouettes him but not enough to hide that trouser snake of his.
Or to cast too much shadow on his hands, as he begins to unbuckle his pants. Metal clicks against metal as he draws his belt out of his suit. It drops to the floor with a thud-clatter, and I push down the other sleeve of my vest. Now all it will take is a single shrug, and my boobs will be all out in the open.
And I can see he wants to see them. His eyes are glued to my chest, his lips parted, his jaw bunching.
His hand hesitates on the button of his suit pants.
“Go on,” I tell him. God, my voice is so husky with lust I sound like a chain smoker. “Drop it.”
But he shakes his head. Gives me that small smile again. And then uses his chin to point to my vest.
“You first.”
Joshua
This is no little girl lying on my bed. Somewhere between arriving here, me sticking two fingers inside her, and her sucking the taste of herself from my mouth, I’ve begun to realize that she’s probably more experienced at this than I am. I’m not a virgin, but I’ve been busy, okay? I won’t tell you how many notches I have in my belt because you’d either laugh or cry. But that’s not going to stop me. I don’t think a freight train with faulty brakes could stop me right now.
Holly stares at me with those glittering black eyes of her. A section of purple/blue/green hair is laying over her collar bone. It shifts as she moves her shoulders, bringing them forward, moving them back.
Her vest falls over the swell of her breasts, unveiling them to the gloom of the bedroom, and she lies back on my bed. I’m tempted to turn on the light. But experience has taught me — aha, experience — that women don’t like it with the lights on. There’s enough of it though — I can see the sensual spheres of her areolas — surprisingly dark, but I guess she was a brunette before she dyed her hair — and the pale swell of her breasts behind them.
“Now you,” she says.
Holy hell, her voice has turned into this rough, sexy-as-shit thing I’d listen to all night if I could.
A thought which, unfortunately, leads to another.
What time is it? Wasn’t her father sending a car for her?
I try and push it down, but it just rears straight back up again — almost like my erection every time I tried to subdue
it tonight.
“I’m waiting…” Holly croons at me. Her hand slides over her breast, and she tweaks her nipple, watching me from under her lashes.
“What… what time is it?”
For a moment, her face doesn’t change. My heart rate accelerates — not because of sexy fun time, but in acute panic.
“What time—?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Holly yells, shoving herself up on her elbows. Her eyes are wide, her lips open. “Are you gor real?”
She sounds so disgusted I take a step back, my hand falling away from my pants.
“Holly, it’s just—”
“Un-fucking-believable.” She sits up, yanking her vest over those gorgeous, petite breasts with enough force to make them bounce. “I should’ve known. What was I expecting? A fucking dweeb like you would never—”
Her voice slides into a low-pitched whine.
…Did she just call me a dweeb?
“What are you, like, three?” The words fall out of my mouth before I can snap my jaw closed.
Holly freezes in the process of sliding her arm into her jersey. “Three?” She turns to look at me, eyes wide and interrogatory. “Three?” Her voice isn’t husky anymore — it’s shrill.
I lick my lips. “Look, it’s just, your dad—it’s late—if he—”
She’s staring at me so hard, I give up. Then her face sets like Jell-O. Her hand disappears into her jersey, emerging a second later holding her phone.
Holly only looks away once — and that’s to unlock her phone and open a menu. Then her eyes flash back to mine.
Her mouth pulls into a thin line. Her eyes narrow.
I take another step back. “Holly, no. Please. Don’t…”
Those eyes narrow even more.
“Don’t send it.”
She lifts the phone to her ear.
Oh good God, no. I begin shaking my head as I take a step forward and lift my hand — placating as all hell.
“Holly—” a fierce whisper now “—don’t. I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I didn’t mean—please don’t—”
Her voice — stiff, strained — cuts me off. “Daddy?”
My heart drops ten feet down and shatters. Holly shifts, getting onto her knees, her face twisting into a scowl.
“Hey. Are you still at work?”
My hand falls to my side, my stomach twisting.
My career is over.
I’ll never get back from this. If Mr. Hill fires me, it’ll be a black mark on my resume for the rest of my natural life. I’ll never be able to retire at forty like I planned. Never have time to work on that novel, the one about the financial analyst who develops superpowers and predicts the financial futures for every major corporation in the world — and causes World War Three in the process. I’ll never make enough from my book deal to buy that island I’ve been dreaming of.
I draw a deep breath and slowly resign myself to a miserable life.
“No, I understand. It’s okay, Daddy. Really, it’s fine,” she says.
I blink. What?
“Yeah, listen…” Holly’s scowl fades. Her free hand disappears under her vest. She tugs it up, sliding out her arm again. “That guy from your work had to go home. Said something an important project.”
I did what? Said what?
Holly’s features transform into something foxy and about five years too mature for her face.
“So I’m going over to Lisa’s, okay? Her folks are out of town so she’s got the place to herself and she’s literally dying of boredom.”
Holly transfers the phone to her other hand. Her vest comes off. She tosses it at me, and I barely manage to catch it in time. I lift it, catching her ginger-snap scent.
“Then I’ll see you for Christmas lunch?”
Her hand slides over her breast. She squeezes it, so hard that a tremor courses through my muscles.
“Okay. Yeah. Noon’s fine. Okay. Love you too, Daddy. Night..and Merry Christmas.”
The phone drops to the bed.
I clear my throat. “Holly, I’m so s—”
“Take it out,” she cuts in. “I want to watch you jerk off.”
My hand doesn’t seem to mind obeying orders from little Holly. Whether this is because my brain’s decided it’s taking an imaginary vacation on that island I might still someday own or what, I don’t know.
I guess my hormones are in control right now instead of the usual left-hand side of my brain.
“Closer,” Holly says.
Now both her hands are on her breasts, her nipples tight little buds from all the attention she’s been giving them.
The only thing still keeping a modicum of decency to her thin frame is that skirt. That is, until she hikes it up to her waist and slides one of her hands under it.
Someone groans — probably me. Okay, definitely me.
I take a step closer. Tug down my zipper — God, I can feel every one of those teeth rasping over my engorged shaft — and then yank down my briefs. My dick springs out like one of those foldaway beds.
Holly’s eyes flash down.
They widen.
And then she looks up at me, her lips twitching into a naughty grin. “No wonder you had so much trouble keeping it in your pants,” she whispers. “Go on. Don’t be shy.”
She tugs away her underwear and slides her fingertips over her sex, shuddering.
Again, I’m only too happy to comply.
IV
Have a Holly Jolly Christmas
Holly
Have you ever watched a guy jerk off? Guys always know how to work their cocks, don’t they? I guess it’s the same for us girls; once you know how to work the VCR, you make it look pretty damn easy to someone who’s never heard of your knockoff make before.
But Josh? He moves his hands over his shaft like he’s got nowhere else to be but here.
Guess that’s ‘cos he doesn’t. Hopefully, I’ve taken his mind of anything work-related. At least for now.
He takes another step closer, so his knees are almost at the end of the bed. I don’t even know how his room looks — I know he has a silky duvet because I’m having no trouble moving around. It might be a dark color, like dark gray or navy. But that’s about it.
I shuffle closer, taking a second to run my fingertip around my clit. I’m so turned on right now, a few quick strokes down there and I’ll be done. I considered coming earlier, but a second orgasm always takes years to come — ‘scuse the pun — and I have no idea how much stamina Mr. Workaholic here has.
He’s about two feet away from me now. I straighten, hike my skirt up to my belly so if he looks down he can see my sex, and then slide a finger inside myself.
Shit, I’m dripping wet.
Josh groans. He has one hand on his cock, the other on the side of his leg. But when my finger goes inside me, that other hand starts massaging his balls.
Interesting…
“Do this often?” I ask, keeping the bulk of my skirt up with my arm so I can circle my clit with one hand while I shove my fingers inside me with the other.
“Probably as much as you,” he says, voice uneven with the ferocity of his strokes.
“Yeah?” I lean back onto my heels.
It’s obviously a much better angle for him; he lets out a deep-throated growl as his shoulders hunch. I pause, for a second thinking he’s already coming, but then he slides his knees onto the bed and shuffles closer.
Our legs touch — knee to knee — and we both shiver at the contact. He pauses, runs his thumb over the tip of his cock, and then starts slowing to long, uneven strokes.
Fast up, slow down.
Pause, thumb to tip.
Then down again.
I glance up, my hands stalling as I try to gather myself.
“Is that how you’re going to fuck me?” I ask.
Josh pauses too, his hands trembling around his junk. He strokes his cock once more, giving it a brief look as if assessing its hardness, its readiness. Or maybe
mine — those eyes of his scan my pussy too.
I’m sure he can see how wet I am for him.
“Not sure,” he says. “I’m dithering between hard and fast or slow and sensual.”
Goose bumps break out over my skin. I bite my bottom lip, draw my fingers out, and slide both hands alongside my sex, framing it for him. I’m still on my heels, still angled up for his viewing pleasure.
His gaze moves down my body, settling with a hedonistic intent on those dripping folds of mine.
A painful ache spears through me, but I manage to hold steady.
“Maybe both,” he whispers.
Josh leans forward. He presses down his cock at the base, angling it.
Then he looks up at me again. “Ready?”
Josh
Holly draws a long, unsteady breath as my dick presses against her entrance. There’s resistance — neither my fingers or hers did a good enough job of opening her up for me. She leans back, resting on her hands, and lets her head fall back.
Pity. I loved the way she was holding herself for me. My hands slide up the inside of her thigh.
Need more space — I don’t want to hurt her any more than I have to. My fingertips disappear into her pussy, and I gently draw her open. Wetness and warmth flood over my fingertips.
Holly groans as I bury the tip of my dick into her.
God, it feels unbelievably good.
My hands slide up and over her hips. Around to her ass. I cradle a cheek in each hand, squeezing softly. Another sound — more a moan this time. Her head is still back.
I sink my fingers into her skin.
And drive my dick all the way into her, as hard as I can.
Holly lets out a surprised yelp, jerking. Those tiny peaks of hers jiggle, and she grabs one of them absently as her head jerks up. She stares at me, open-mouthed with surprise, pleasure, anticipation.
So I tug out slow, so very slowly, and force my way back into her again.
