Page 12 of His Candy Cane (Sweet Treats 1)

“What is this?” I asked with confusion. “Do your other clients use it too?”

He grinned, blue eyes gleaming devilishly.

“Yep. It has a lot of resistance bands that you can attach at different joints,” he said, showing me the steel O rings on the sides. “But we’re not going to be using it quite that way today.”

I nodded, still nonplussed. There was a small black seat kind of like the rubber swings that you see in kiddie playgrounds, with lots of scary-looking attachments.

“Honestly, it looks like the Pilates exercise machine from hell.”

Patrick threw his head back and laughed, so mesmerizingly gorgeous with that bronzed throat and white teeth.

“I know, sweetheart, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. Not when I’m here. Now strip,” he commanded, his eyes already devouring my form, “and I’ll show you how to use the swing between lovers.”

I blushed but with eager hands, obeyed. I love when my man is in charge, and Patrick is an over the top alpha male in every way. Plus, he’s definitely more experienced than I am when it comes to making love, and has already taught me so many hot moves that I was only looking forward to exploring more.

Once I was nude, I did a little jiggle, making my breasts bounce.

“What now, Daddy?” I cooed. “What do we do?”

With gentle hands, he guided me into the swing, strapping me into place. That was foreseeable. But then he lifted my legs and fastened cuffs around knees, tying them up so that my pulsing kitty was pulled forwards and into view.

“Goodness!” I exclaimed. “Are we really doing this?”

“Yes, baby. This is the best way for us to have deep penetration,” he growled. “You’ll see.”

Pretty soon, I was tied up in a ball of sorts except that my sweetest spots were exposed and totally at his pleasure. To my shame, my kitty juiced and pulsed with anticipation, the scent of female honey wafting through the air.

“That’s my pretty girl,” Patrick growled, staring at my sopping slit with satisfaction before running a finger through my folds. I almost howled with the sensation because it felt so amazing. He grunted and chuckled, ready to do it again.

But I became a wanton woman. I began to beg him for it.

“Please,” I panted. “I want it so bad. I need it. Give it to me.”

He chuckled again, revealing that massive iron rod, and then he pulled me back on the swing before letting it sway forward, and spearing me with the huge stick in one swift motion.

“Unnnnh!” I screamed as electricity wracked my frame. I was stuck on the huge candy cane, unable to move, and my body pulsed with desire.

“Shhh,” he hushed. “It’s going to be fine.”

With the next sway of the swing, I was pulled off his rod before being slammed onto it again, the heat piercing deep inside.

“Ohhhhh!” I wailed. “Oh my god!”

And on and on it went, until we were both dizzy with pleasure, enjoying one another’s bodies intimately. I almost passed out, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as my body soared to ecstatic heights of pleasure.

It’s been like this again and again too. Patrick knows so many ways to please me, and I love being with him, whether doing something cuddly and fun like watching TV together, or practicing all the different positions of the Kama Sutra.

But now, Patrick has promised to take me to the Festival of Lights and I’m really excited because it’s a wonderful sight to see. There’s a street in our town where all the houses go crazy before Christmas with holiday decorations. The neighbors don’t just string a couple windows with lights. Instead, they go all out, meaning that entire houses are wrapped in blinking Christmas lights, with Santa on the roof in his sleigh and mechanical reindeer pawing at the air with their hooves. I feel a little bad because their electricity bills must be horrendous during the months of November and December. Plus, I heard that the neighborhood is really strict about participation. When a potential new person is about to move in, they ask that the new neighbor sign a contract promising to do up their house in thousands of watts of Christmas decorations.

But I like it. Even though I’ve lived in this town my whole life, I like to go every year to see, and it always makes me feel excited and happy for Christmas. Happiness floods my frame, and I fluff my curls in the mirror, smiling widely. I look happy, sated, and like a woman in love.

There’s a ding-dong on my parents’ door, and I skip down the stairs while pulling on my ski jacket, hat and mittens.

“Hi,” I say, flinging the door open before stepping outside. “It’s cold isn’t it?”

Patrick looks so handsome. He’s wearing a navy puffer jacket that highlights the blue of his eyes, and jeans that sit just so on his hips. The tail of a plaid shirt peeks out from beneath the hem of his jacket and I giggle.

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