A gift that neither one will soon forget.
The door blows closed behind me with a loud bang and a few snowflakes settle to the floor before melting into tiny puddles. Stamping my feet on the welcome mat, I unzip my jacket and hang in on the hook on the back of the door. After stepping out of my boots, untying my scarf, taking off my blue hat, and hanging them all up, I head for the bedroom to get into some comfy clothes. Pulling on my college sweatshirt and an old pair of sweat pants, I complete the outfit with my fuzzy pink slippers and move towards the kitchen. En route, I turn the radio to the all Christmas music station and hum to a favorite carol of mine with the idea of some hot chocolate tempting my taste buds.
With water in the teapot on the stove, I stand by the window and watch the snowflakes flutter to the ground. I don’t realize how lost in my thoughts I am until the teapot whistles and I jump. Laughing at myself, I fill my mug full of cocoa and shuffle into the living room, stopping only for a second to switch the lights to the Christmas tree on. Setting my mug on the coffee table, I pull a green fleece blanket around my shoulders and curl my legs underneath me. After wrapping my hands around the warm mug, I finally feel myself begin to relax and warm up. The temperatures were record low today and I spent the day outside working at my father’s Christmas tree farm.
The tree farm became his retirement job after my grandfather died and left my father a large plot of land. He gets such enjoyment out of planting new trees and getting all ready for the holiday season. The only time I get to spend with him before Christmas is when I’m working at the farm so that’s where I choose to spend the weekends. As much as I’d like to admit that I do it for the quality "father-daughter bonding time," there is a slight ulterior motive.........you.
The Christmas tree lights blur in front of my eyes when I bring up images of you, the way you work so hard with my dad, helping people chop down their trees and tie them to the roof of their car, the way your muscles flex underneath your flannel shirts when you’re hard at work, or best of all the shy smiles that you flash me when you catch me staring at you. A blush creeps into my cheeks just thinking about it. I can see your brown hair with just a few wisps of gray at the temple, the incredible six foot figure and the kind smile. The image of you spreads warmth within me and I shake my head to clear it of your presence. What would my father think if his daughter was going after a man twice her age? The wind howls outside and I walk to the window to close the blinds. One glance out the window and it is a total blizzard, the visibility must be close to zero. Thankful to be inside and that Dad’s tree farm closes at dusk, I return to the cozy couch.
Just as I settle in and pick up a book from the coffee table, there is a knock at the door. Not expecting any visitors this time of night with such a blizzard outside, I cautiously approach the door and open it a crack. When I see you standing on the porch with the wind blowing against you and snow covering your entire jacket, I open the door completely and invite you inside. Before I can ask what brings you to my house, you tell me that your truck broke down a little ways down the street and you didn’t know where else to go on Christmas Eve. Helping you off with your jacket, I hang it beside mine and automatically reach to dust the snow from your hair. My hand stops at your brow and we look into each other’s eyes, wanting to kiss but unsure what the other person is thinking. The moment passes when you ask for my phone. I show you to the kitchen and put on some more hot water.
Your parents aren’t home and the tow trucking company has no answer. I offer you the cup of cocoa and you look at me again. The bantering that we are so good at doing in public suddenly seems inappropriate and we sit in an uncomfortable silence before I invite you into the living room. Accepting my offer, we make our way into the room that just minutes before held my longing thoughts of you. When you head to the fireplace to build a fire, I protest, and reach for a piece of wood to help you or do it myself, but you brush me aside, saying that it’s the least you can do.
Sinking into the couch I admire the way that the firm muscles in your back ripple beneath your red and blue plaid shirt and the way your jeans hug tightly to your amazing ass. Looking down at my attire, my cheeks grow red with embarrassment. As the fire begins crackling and the flames leap higher, you sit beside me on the couch and sip your hot chocolate. The tension from your body visibly fades as you relax and talk about my plans for the holiday and how nicely I have decorated. I thank you for the compliments and we discover that neither one of us has Christmas plans until late in the day. A glimpse of us spending the night together flashes in my mind and I cannot help the smile that curls my lips. When you ask what I’m thinking about, I lower my eyes and tell you that it was nothing, but I know that you don’t believe me.
Setting your mug down, you put an arm around my shoulders and pull me close to you. Resting my head against your chest, the awkwardness fades and it feels so right to be here with you. Your fingers tuck a strand of hair away and I feel your warm breath whisper in my ear, "you are what I wanted for Christmas." I inhale sharply, unable to comprehend if this is really happening or if I just need to shake my head and I will find the room empty again. But I reach for your hand and entwine my fingers with yours, looking up at you as if to agree. Your head lowers to meet mine in a fiery kiss and the flames sear throughout my body. Our lips part and your tongue explores my mouth, passionate at first and then gently, sucking lightly on my lower lip, eliciting a moan from deep within me.
Your mouth moves to my neck, kissing the tender spot below my ear and covering me in affectionate, wanting kisses. The coarseness of the stubble on your cheeks brushes across my soft skin but it only results in making me even more sensitive to your touch. When your hands slide under my sweatshirt, I jump and you pull away. Looking deep into my eyes, you apologize for moving so fast. I tell you how long I’ve wanted you and how ready I am for you, and I confess that I’m a virgin and just want to take things slowly. A look of surprise crosses your face and you ask how I could’ve gone to college looking this fine and still kept my virginity. I blush again and shrug my shoulders. After asking again if this is what I really want, I just kiss you in reply, this time running my hands up your chest to the top button of your flannel shirt. Methodically I unbutton it, never taking my eyes away from yours. When my hands reach the last button, I slide them up your chest again, caressing every muscle and then pushing your shirt down your arms and off you.
With your flannel shirt on the floor, I help you to lift your t-shirt over your head and then I kiss your chest, leaving warm wet pools of passion across your body. Again your slide your hands beneath my sweatshirt and this time I reach my arms above my head and you easily slide it off, reach next for the clasp of my bra. After unhooking it, you pull it aside and toss it to the floor. I lay back on the couch and you staddle me, lowering your mouth to the first hardened nipple. Gently, you take it in your teeth and let your tongue scrape across it, causing me agonizing pleasure. You move to the next one and I cannot contain the moan that escapes my lips. Urging you to continue, I let my fingernails rake through your hair and down your back. Arching towards you, wanting to fill your mouth with my budding breast.
You drag your rough cheek against the contrastingly tender nipple and I can feel a warmth spreading between my legs. The kisses that I desire, travel down my chest to my navel. Kissing and licking my abdomen, sends shivers up and down my spine. When you reach the top of my sweat pants you gently slide them down my legs, letting your warm, rough hands caress my thighs, knees, calves, and ankles all the way down. As my pants land with the rest of our clothing on the floor, you lips travel the path previously traveled by your hands. Beginning at my ankle you lightly kiss me, move up an inch and kiss again. Reaching the spot behind my knee, you take time to suck it and lick it, my breath comes faster and faster. Working on my inner thigh, your tongue travels to the band of my panties. You stop for just a second, deeply inhaling the musky scent of my womanhood. Yet you do not kiss me there, only move over the center of my desire to the next thigh. You kiss this inner thigh, back down to the ample spot behind my knee, to the calve and finally the ankle.
By now a wet spot has formed on my panties and I long for your touch. Moving above me, you lower your mouth to my lips as your hand cups my breast, gently tweaking my nipple, as our tongues dance together. The fleece blanket that I had just minutes before been wrapped up in all alone, falls to the floor and we decide to join it. You gracefully pick me up and set me down on top of the blanket. I look up into your eyes and watch the reflection of the firelight flicker in your green pools of desire. The wind moans outside and a moan escapes my lips as well when I feel your fingers lovingly stroking the wet panties.
I thrust my hips towards your hand and you reach for the waistband. After removing my panties you kiss my thighs again. Sucking and licking them, teasing me unmercifully. Your hand slides up my thigh and makes its way to the warm wet core of my being. As another finger slides inside of me, your lips surround my clit and your tongue caresses it. Engulfed by a jolt of electricity I cum in an overwhelming orgasm. Your mouth continues to lick and suck on me, long after my ragged breaths have subsided. But this night is not just about me.
Moving away from you, I stand up and pull you towards me, cupping your face, kissing you again and again as my hands move to the zipper and button in your jeans. Freeing you from the confines of your pants and boxer shorts, my hand wraps around your hardened thickness and slowly begins to stroke you. Dropping to my knees, my mouth lowers to your throbbing head and I let my tongue run across it, eliciting a moan from deep within you. But you are not willing to let it all end so fast.
Sinking to your knees beside me, you kiss me again and again, pressing tightly against me, letting me feel the hardness of your desire. As I lay back on the fleece blanket, you kneel between my legs and look me in the eyes once more, ensuring that this is what I really want. I nod and raise my hips as you lean towards me and slowly enter me. A quick flash of pain crosses my face and you stop, but the pleasure quickly overpowers it and you continue to thrust inside me. I have wanted you for so long. As our bodies join into one, I wrap my legs around you and in a steady rhythm we move together. Emotions flood over me and I can barely catch my breath. Tears come to my eyes, not of pain, but of love and desire. Leaning down, you kiss my eyelids as your hand cups my breast and kneads it.
Our climax is nearing and our speed increases. The light from the fire, the sound of your breathing and moans, the beating of your heart, the musky scent of our sex, fill every pore in my body until at last I feel you spilling inside of me. I surround you in wetness and spasm even tighter around you. You pull me tightly to your chest and hold me close until our breathing returns to normal and our heart rates become steady once again. Wrapped tightly in your arms, with the fire to keep us warm, and the lights from the Christmas tree making dancing shadows across the wall, you whisper in my ear just as I’m about to fall asleep, "thank you for the best Christmas present ever."
