i hope that you’re doing well, and that things are colorful in your world. i’m still dealing with a little of that emotional pain i mentioned in my last post, but i’m coming out of it.
the person that hit my car did something very noble: he came back to the office where i work, offered an explanation and an apology, then gave me his insurance information; i’m hoping to take my car in for repairs early in the coming week.
thank you for being so patient with me, i finally have that story ready for you. i’m sorry that you’re reading this Christmas-themed story so close to Valentine’s Day, but i really appreciate the fact that you’re visiting my modest corner at all. thank you for hanging in there.
here’s hoping the rest of your winter is peaceful. i hope that you enjoy through it all.
through it all
This time of year always put Eric in a festive mood. Old Man Winter dusting the city with the first snowfall of the season, children’s faces lighting up with anticipation as they wait for Santa’s float in the parade, watching The Polar Express on television; just a general sense of goodwill all around.
For the past three years he and his girlfriend, Sarai, made a tradition of going to the park to see the light show and shopping for a tree on Christmas Eve. But this year she was finding it hard to be thrilled about the holiday.
“I really shouldn’t go, I have a lot of work to do,” Sarai said, pulling a knitted cap over her thick, tightly curled hair.
Zipping up his coat, Eric dropped his shoulders. “I can’t go to the park and the tree lot without you.”
“Eric, if I don’t get a head start on this project, I’ll get behind. If I get behind, I won’t get paid.” She used her gaze to remind him that they needed the extra money.
Seeing her face fill up with concern, Eric walked to her. Even when she was over-thinking, she was still cute. Her expressive brown eyes and spirited personality are what mesmerized him from the first day they met. “Stop stressing. You won’t get behind and the sculpture will be amazing.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Besides, if we don’t get a tree, Santa won’t come.”
Sarai smiled, pulled up on his collar. She was in a different mood, but she didn’t want to ruin their night. “So you don’t get too cold.”
They headed out, walking one block from their apartment to catch the bus. When they got downtown, they watched the ice skaters in the seasonal rink and looked through cafe and clothing store windows that were decorated with animated elves, toy soldiers and reindeer. The park’s appearance had been changed into a sparkling display of multi-colored lights. Wreaths accented lamp posts that were spiraled with ribbon, the railings were draped with holly, and a 100-foot tree had been elaborately decorated for the holiday. Eric enjoyed walking through the tunnel of lights, Sarai’s favorite part of the experience was roasting s’mores over one of the large fire pits in the courtyard.
It was just after 9 o’clock when they got to the tree lot. Eric and Sarai were greeted by a tall, stocky man wearing a striped scarf and wool cap. He introduced himself as Joseph, the attendant.
Arm in arm they wandered through the lot, passing an older couple in one aisle who were playfully debating the quality of cypress and fir trees. There was a small selection, all different varieties and sizes. Joseph was a great lot attendant, helpful without being a pushy salesman. When he promised to knock off a few dollars because it was Christmas Eve, Eric and Sarai picked out a pine tree and carried it to the bus stop.
The cold winter air was fragrant with the smell of roasted chestnuts; a short line of people waited patiently near a vending cart to buy a bag. Just outside of a community center, residents stopped briefly to make donations or to thank the volunteer bell ringers for the Salvation Army. A woman was on the corner playing Carol of the Bells on her acoustic guitar. The music carried down the street, attracting more and more people. Eric stopped so that Sarai could listen. She loved that song, but thought there was something beautifully haunting about hearing it this way. Once the woman stopped playing, Eric dropped the change leftover from the tree into her guitar case.
When they got home, Eric excitedly took off his coat and pulled out a box of decorations from their bedroom closet. Sarai moved a small table aside so she could lean the tree against a wall in a corner of the living room. They didn’t have a fireplace, so she hung their stockings from the hooks of a storage shelf near the front door. Together they set the tree in the stand, Sarai made sure there was plenty of water in the reservoir.
The evening was spent decorating their tree over mugs of hot chocolate that Sarai made with Taza chocolate discs. When they were done, Eric turned off the lamps and plugged in the lights. The soft glow of blinking bulbs added warmth to the living room.
The five-foot tree was simple but charming, dressed with carefully placed decorations like bells and small, beaded garland. While admiring their handiwork, Eric made eye contact with Sarai and winked at her. The man was ruggedly handsome: sun-kissed skin and warm, hazel eyes that she always seemed to get lost in. After several seconds, his gaze moved to her lips; and that led to a long, amazing kiss—the kind that made her knees buckle.
“Where’s the mistletoe?” Sarai asked playfully, breaking contact.
“Come here.” He drew her face to his; their kiss tasted of the hot chocolate they drank moments earlier: rich and sweet.
The longer their lips were acquainted, the more Sarai stopped worrying about her upcoming project and enjoyed the sensations that conquered her. She whimpered when she felt his tongue in her mouth; seeking out her own, curling around it in a sublime struggle for control.
Her arms went around his neck. Eric held her closely, nibbling her lower lip between pecks. The kiss seemed to go on forever, but it wasn’t enough. Within an instant, they found themselves on the floor near the foot of the tree. He gathered the bottom of Sarai’s shirt, lifted it over her head. Unfastening her bra, Sarai shrugged out of it and lay back on a hand-woven rug.
Eric kneeled beside her and leaned over, teasing and biting the hollow of her neck. Sarai’s breath quickened. His soft, moist lips gave her goose bumps. She was always helpless against the feel of his mouth against her ebony skin, helpless against the pleasure that unraveled within her.
A few minutes later, he was pulling off the rest of her clothes—one item at a time—tossing them aside. She stretched her arms above her head and watched Eric grab an ornament from the tree. Taking his time, he skimmed the ball down her nose, lips and chin. He went across her throat, over her collarbone, then her breasts—one after the other.
Eric watched the expressions on her face after he noticed her dark nipples tighten to the touch of the bulb. He brought the ornament lower, using it to make curly designs on her stomach. He moved on to the swell of her hips and lower still—below her waist—pressing the decorative object against the underside of her clit. With a feathered touch, he played with her for a while. Seducing her. Torturing her. Rubbing the ball, slick with her wetness, over her tight bud.
Riding the edge, Sarai hissed. The insistence in her body was relentless and vivid. She was aching. Desperate. For him, for her own salacious gratification.
Just as her body was about to betray her, the ornament was pulled away.
Eric shifted to be between her legs. He coaxed them open, tracing lazy lines along her inner thigh. Sarai’s pelvis made a little jump at him, he lowered his head to accept the invitation. When the tip of his nose was at her entrance, he inhaled the her presence. He loved her shapely body; the way she smelled, the way she tasted, the way she bit her bottom lip and quivered under his hands.
The tip of his determined tongue pushed upward, opening the lips of her pussy. He lifted her right leg over his shoulder, then curled his hands underneath her. He sucked her taut clit, pausing to roll it around his tongue every few seconds. Then his fingers joined in. He twisted two digits inside of her, stroking her warm, soft channel.
Sarai felt her heart racing. A sexy rush of heat radiated through her body, making her dizzy. Her eyes were heavy, half-closed. She was close. So damn close. Panting raggedly, she moved against his face, seeking more of him with each roll of her hips. His fingers went deeper. His breath was hot, his beard scratched her legs and she was pleasantly overwhelmed by the contrast. She cupped her breasts, tweaking her nipples while his mouth took on a life of its own. He held nothing back: sweeping his tongue over her intimate opening in every direction; sucking her labia; pinching her clit between his lips.
Barely breathing, Sarai twisted like she was trying to escape. She cried his name as he continued tormenting her well lubricated pussy, encouraging her release.
He stopped to tell her to say his name again. She did.
Sarai grabbed his head, his attention was too much to bear. Passion ripped through her veins in wicked currents, he was driving her crazy. She looked at the tree, a glimmer of colored lights was the last thing she saw just before her eyes fluttered closed. Garbled words became low moans, and her climax ruptured into a million euphoric pieces.
Eric murmured silently against her as her tender muscles pulsed and freed her release. Sarai’s precious juices trickled down his chin. She tasted like lust: an evil desire so raw, dark and torrid that he thought he would drown in her sweet taste.
Sarai lay there heaving, sweating and sated. At that moment, Eric dropped a line of kisses and small bites along her inner thigh. In that raspy timbre that she loved, he whispered, “I love feeling you come.”
The yearning to do more caused the erection in his jeans to hurt. He needed to be inside of her, and quickly relieved himself of his clothes. His dick stood hard, proud and slightly curved. Taking hold of his shaft, he rubbed the head up and down her cleft, then in slow circles. He pushed slowly, working his way inside; forcing her to take every impressive inch of him. When his six-foot two frame was on top of hers, Eric pinned her wrists to the floor. He groaned from the pleasure as he filled her, stroked her.
Still trembling from the first orgasm, Sarai declared her approval in short breaths. She loved feeling him against her, heated and strong on her body. Under the confinement of his hands, Sarai arched against him; the serpentine movement of her hips met his pace again and again. She felt the vibration of Eric’s muffled sounds against her neck when her womanly muscles pulled at him, holding him possessively. The broad head of his manhood found her tender spot repeatedly. Sarai tossed her head to the side, feeling that heat again. A second climax was growing inside of her, bringing her to the precipice of ecstasy.
Eric’s slow, rhythmic movements became more aggressive. Drawing out and pushing forward with purpose.
He kissed her, sharing her taste, growling her name against her lips. His body tightened. His balls felt heavier on each down stroke. Tension coiled in the pit of his stomach; it wouldn’t be long before it snapped, causing him to have a jaw-clenching orgasm.
They made love for hours, the scent of pine and sex hung heavily in the air. The snow started to fall just outside their frost-covered windows, covering their street in a fresh blanket of white, providing an incredible backdrop to their long, intimate evening.
A beautiful moment, captured forever in their minds.
Sarai woke before Eric did, unsure as to when they made their way to the bedroom. She was facing him, her leg draped over his. Carefully, she drew the pad of her index finger down the bridge of his nose. She stroked his face then pressed her lips to his. “Merry Christmas,” her sleepy voice whispered.
She slipped out of bed without waking him, throwing on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. She needed to put his gift under the tree and start dinner. This year they were having roast chicken with lemon and herbs, carrots and roasted garlic mashed potatoes. And for dessert, roasted peach cobbler drizzled with balsamic vinegar, served with vanilla ice cream: Eric’s favorite.
In their cozy living room, Sarai picked up the clothes that were scattered on the floor. She smiled with satisfaction as images of the previous night aroused her mind all over again. A gift bag under the tree caught her eye, that’s when she felt Eric’s kiss at the back of her neck. “I know it’s been hard for you to get in the Christmas spirit.”
Sarai just nodded. Eric didn’t get the bonus he was hoping for and she’d been out of work for almost nine months. They were living within their modest means; her emergency savings helped with helped with their monthly bills and necessities, but obviously it wasn’t going to last forever. Still, Eric remained optimistic through it all. He even encouraged her to capitalize on her hobby and sell her unique pieces.
Sarai stayed consistent in getting the word around. A collector eventually contacted her online and commissioned her to make a tendril vase for his niece. Eric knew that Sarai loved her craft knives and dental tools for the lifelike detail she could get from her work, but he thought it would be nice if she had a new sculpting kit for her first paying project.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so—”
Eric kissed her again before she could reply. “Shh, it’s fine. We’re going to be fine.”
Sarai smiled, knowing that they would be. “Thank you.” That pair of words was not just for the gift, it was for everything that Eric brought into their relationship: patience, consideration, ordinary moments. It was for all the ways he showed her that he loved her.
“Can I peek in the bag?” Sarai was inching toward the tree.
Eric pulled her to the bedroom, a smile raised the corners of his mouth. “In a little bit. First, let’s go play some naughty reindeer games.”
© enchanted.ladybug 1-31-2015