Page 6 of Miss Merry and Mr. Bright
“Yeah. You can never have too much Christmas!”
“I would argue that fact,” I groan and drag in the last of the bags. They’re stacked everywhere in the hallway.
I cannot believe that I’m about to say what I’m gonna say. “You can do what you want with your room and the public places in here but stay the hell out of my office and my studio.”
She snaps to attention and shoots me a wink and a salute. “Yes, sir!”
And my cock hits the front of my jeans so hard that I groan silently. I’ll be shocked if I don’t have teeth imprints on my aching dick.
Growling, I stalk away from her.
“And make sure you get this stuff out of the hallway. Oh. And we’re supposed to have a storm sometime tonight or tomorrow. So I hope that you’re ready for what’s coming. Have you ever been in a Nor’easter?”
She grins cheekily. “Nope. I’m from Florida originally. Should be fun!”
“Ugh. Storms in winter are not fun.”
“What would you like for dinner?”
“I’m gonna work through dinner. I’ve got a lot to get done so we can send you on your way.”
I hoped that she’d take the hint that she’s not wanted but she just grins. “That’s the spirit!”
Rolling my eyes, I head to my studio and eye Peaches as she takes off after the little angel in my hallway. I close the door and stand in front of the lump of clay that I’m sculpting. The clay that’s now got a suspiciously-familiar set of curves and a curl to full lips that has me grumbling again.
But I lean in and carefully begin the transformation, my fingers and hands delicately building on the figure until I can clearly see her there. Her softness, her strength, the delicate femininity of her that has me breathless and shaking.
Wanting. My fingers trace each curve until I can close my eyes and see her right in front of me. See the gleam of desire in her shimmering silver gaze. See the way her full breasts lift and fall rapidly as she holds out her hands and steps towards me.
My whole body clenches as I feel her soft hands glide over my shoulder and slip down my chest, stroking, gliding. Until she reaches my belt and her clever little fingers open it without even a second’s thought.
Her full lips open and my eyes cross as she pulls my cock out and her lips envelop my thick girth. Her heat just about undoes me and I groan deep in my throat, my whole body throbbing with the need to get inside her sweet, curvy body and give her exactly what this naughty little girl deserves.
I gulp and she dives onto my cock and I feel the back of her throat on my throbbing tip.
She swallows and my whole body goes rigid, numb with lust. Her no-color eyes stare up at me in the dark as she whimpers, “I need you.”
“Holy shit,” I groan. And my cock jerks in my jeans. My whole body goes tight and I bite down on my hand, trying to hide the groan that’s pulled out of my chest.
Glancing down, I mutter, “I can’t believe I just nutted in my damn pants like a fucking nitwit teenager.”
But I did. I jerk my pants out to cover the stain and step out into the hallway, my mouth falling open as I drink in the holiday hysteria that is my house.
The dark stairs are now frosted with tinsel and garland, fake poinsettia and sparkling lights that blink out an SOS message.
My head turns and there’s a mistletoe ball right over the door that makes me cringe.
“Holy shit!”
“Yap, yap!” Peaches skids around the corner and dances on her little legs. My eyes almost bug out of my head when I see the blinking red and green monstrosity that she’s wearing. The sweater covers her middle and she yips again before she races around the corner.
“What the hell is going on here?” But I already know. It’s her. I’m going to drown in Christmas cheer if I don’t get the little curvy angel that just made me come in my pants without being in the room out of here.
And like the ghost of Christmas present, she dances around the corner wearing a red and green sweater that barely covers her full tits and drops down to cover her thick thighs in a pair of thin black leggings. Reindeer antlers blink on her head and she’s dancing to Jingle Bells as she haphazardly throws more and more tinsel around my home.
Taking a deep breath, I slide my hand down to covertly shift my aching cock. I’m thirty-eight years old and this barely-legal has me hard again.
One way or another she’s going to kill me before the holidays are over.
