****** Christmas Cider and Mistletoe by sherrierose99@yahoo.com ******
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Christmas Cider and Mistletoe


Note to my wonderful readers: This month marks my first anniversary of having
my stories submitted on Whiteshadow's site. I want to thank all of you for
reading and for responding with email-good and bad. Merry Christmas, Everyone!

"I wonder if wearing an angel's halo all year would keep me off of Santa's
naughty list." I thought to myself, as I fidgeted with the tassels on my
leopard print scarf. The twinkling of red, green and white Christmas lights
from the neighborhood, brightened the dark cold night. The flashing blue light
on the policeman's cruiser overpowered the effects. Speeding due to being late
for the biggest party of the season got me into this mess of a ticket. No
sparkling smile or mistletoe would get me out of it.

I knew I should have stayed in tonight but I was scammed into going to this
tedious Christmas affair at my friend, Polly's house. She used in her favor to
get me to the party, the fact that I was now single for the first time in six
years, thus able to enjoy the holidays, as most married folks can't. I knew
that I needed to get out and mingle in the social scene, so I accepted her
party invitation. "Look what it has gotten me so far!" I thought, as the
policeman handed me my brand new ticket and told me I was free to go. I tried
not to spin my tires, as I headed to the party at a defiant mile over the speed
limit.

Polly, clad in an elfin suit, met me at the door. She giddily gushed, "Sherrie,
love, I'm so glad to see you. Let me take your coat. Oh my, I love your dress!
Where did you get it? Is it pure silk? Lord, how I wish that I had your
cleavage! When did you cut your hair? Don't get me wrong, it looks nice on you?
Do you think it's going to get much colder...I have to take my Granny shopping
tomorrow? Guess who is here alone? Barbara White! She left her husband last
week. I hope she doesn't hog all the men from you. I hear she is trying to make
up for the last 18 years of getting the wham-bam treatment from her
husband...." Somewhere during this tirade I was escorted into the living room
with the other guests, where I knew a few and not a lot.

Peter, Polly's husband of ten years, was serving cider by the fireplace. Poor
Pete dressed like St. Nick; he had the look of a man who was pussy-whipped. I
bet Polly used his husbandly rights as leverage to get him dressed as Santa. I
couldn't help but smile as I went over to rub it in.

"Santa, is there anything you can do about my speeding ticket, I just received
on my sleigh ride over here? I have the officer's name." I asked, as he handed
me a mug of cider.

I heard a smiling voice behind me say, "Santa, if you can fix her speeding
ticket, then could you see what you can do about my divorce settlement? My ex
wants everything, even my bowling trophies. Why? Only Heaven knows."

I turned to face a handsome man of around forty-something with dark thick hair,
a tall build and rather likeable rugged features. With a slight smile on my
full lips, I said, "She needs them to hang hats on. At least, that is what I
would use them for."

He smiled, " I think it would be a crime for you to hide your lovely auburn
hair under a hat of any kind, my dear."

"Flattery will not get you far with Sherrie," Peter said in a protective tone.
"Go practice your newfound bachelor skills on some other willing chick. This
classy lady is out of your league, Nicky!"

My would-be seducer was at a loss for words. I hid my smile behind a sip of
cider, immediately coughing.

"How many fifths of Jack Daniels do you have in this, Pete?" I asked, my upper
GI tract on fire.

"Let me seduce her before you poison her, Petey!" Nicky said in a low tone.

Polly appeared beside me, "Sherrie, has Peter introduced you to his cousin,
Nick from Atlanta? He is here for the holidays." She waited for a reply and all
I could do was wheeze. Glancing at my mug, she asked "Peter, you didn't spike
the cider, did you?" She waited for an answer, looking at Pete and Nick pass
devilish glances at each other. "You boys! When will you grow up? Peter, at
least warn people before you pour. Come along, Sherrie, I have something more
palatable for you to drink." Arm in arm, she and I left with the jingling of
bells from her elfin hat.

In the kitchen, she poured me a glass of Zinfandel blush, " There, Sweets,
drink this. I warned Peter about his behavior. I knew I should have hired a
Santa." She looked at me with a very sudden casual way, saying, "So, what do
you think of Nick?" My answer was to reach for a grape from the fruit bowl on
the counter. I wasn't ready to discuss what I thought of her cousin-in-law. I
didn't know what to think of the way his voice sent shivers down my spine or
the way he carried himself in that arrogant fashion that confident men do. Yes,
he was extremely handsome and definitely likeable. "Sherrie! Tell me. He is
sexy, don't you think? He is the hottest CEO at his company. This man is worth
half a million dollars"

"Not for long," I said, dryly. "His ex wants everything! Even his bowling
trophies."

The door chimes, announcing the arrival of more guests, interrupted us. Polly
rushed out of the kitchen, as is her fashion, to greet the visitors. I
leisurely strolled back to the party. I found a perch near a newly wed couple I
knew. Pretending to listen to their happy chirpings, I glanced around the room,
searching for Nick. He was entertaining a busty blond in a red sequin dress,
over by the Christmas tree. Polly once again appeared beside me, noticing my
glance. "Barbara!" she whispered in my ear. Yes, I remembered her. She and her
family had attended a few of Polly and Peter's summertime cookouts. I wasn't
very fond of her. She tended to be a rather uncouth woman most of the time.

Nick must have felt our eyes upon him, for he looked our way. Polly motioned to
him, "Nicky, Darling, come here!" He excused himself much to Barbara's obvious
dismay, and headed our way. In my ear, with our eyes upon him, Polly whispered,
"Sherrie, he is very endowed according to his ex. That is why they're
divorcing!"

Taking Polly's hand, Nick said with fondness, "Polly, you are the only woman
here that can make me come by the crook of her finger."

"Nick!" Polly said, blushing. "You are so bad. Are you having fun?"

He laughed, kissing her hand, saying, "Polly, my dear, I was trying to have a
very good time." He glanced over at Barbara who was watching us like a hawk
does some poor little field mouse caught out in the open meadow. "Yes, a very
good time indeed." I felt a tinge of jealousy to my surprise. I was a little
concerned about my feelings. "Girlfriend," I thought, "you don't even know this
man. Get over it." I knew that he was a playboy out for just a good time. I
mentally cursed Polly, for getting my curiosity up about his endowment.

Feigning boredom to cover my streak of green, I stifled a yawn. Nick glanced at
me with those liquid brown eyes of his. "Bored, Miss Sherrie?" He grabbed me by
the arm, uprooting me from my seat. "We can't have that now." He pulled me
roughly to him, my womanly charms pressed tightly against his strong chest. He
looked above our heads. I followed suit. We were standing under the biggest
sprig of mistletoe I have ever seen. "Miss Sherrie, let me see if I can give
you something to relieve your boredom." He kissed me with enough passion to
kill a whole herd of lovesick cows. I didn't react at first. I guess the shock
of it all was paralyzing me. His hands were squeezing my round bottom, as he
slid his tongue into my mouth. Two can play this game, so I placed my hands in
his hair, pulling him closer than close. He stiffened in surprise as my mouth
captured his tongue and I started to suck on it. I wantonly brushed my breasts
against his chest. I am sure that he felt the pressure of my diamond hard
nipples through the flimsy fabric of my black silk dress.

We were locked in a tongue death match. The victor's prize would be an extra
pair of lips. I felt someone pulling us apart, ending our tongue tango.
Annoyed, I turned to the interloper. Ah, Barbara! Pushing me to the side she
coyly said, "My turn, Nick." He pulled her into his arms, smiling at me and
said, "Variety is the spice of life, Miss Sherrie." Barbara looked at me
arrogantly. I wasn't going to let either know that she irritated me with her
interruption.

"You're right about that. I guess you need some plain vanilla to cool down that
jalapeno kiss I just gave you, Nicky." I laughingly said. I raised a mocking
eyebrow, waiting for his reply. He looked at me with an unreadable face.
Barbara locked her hands behind his ears; on tiptoes she arched her body
towards his, puckered lips thrusting forward. The lack of lower bodily contact
did not escape my notice. I left them before their kiss was finished.

A new group of arrivals were announced by the dinging of the door chimes. Since
Polly was busy in the kitchen, I answered the door for her. I was swept into a
pair of very strong arms. Doug, a very handsome younger man of at least 6
years, was tickled pink to see me. He had been after me for a dinner date, but
I wasn't interested in him in any way, except as a friend. With his arms around
me, I escorted him and the rest of his gang into the party full of Grinches,
Scrooges, and Frosties. Doug encouraged me to sit beside him on a vacant
loveseat. He tends to be a little touchy-feely. Usually, I evade his wanderlust
but tonight I found that I didn't. I noticed that Nick and Barbara were
standing very close to us in conversation. I wanted Nick to see that I was just
as sought after as he. His sharp eyes soaked in all there was to poor Doug and
his youthfulness, who much to my reluctance in admitting this, paled in
comparison to Nick's maturity.

Elfin Polly's parties involved social games, catered to whatever age and social
group that was predominant. This party seemed to have excess singles, me
included. The first game introduced was one of men versus women in charades,
geared to holiday themes. The topics were rather plain and simple to the
average kindergarten child, but to a room full of tipsy adults, the game was
extremely difficult. Peter's cider, no doubt, was the culprit. My group of
women consisted of Barbara, Polly, a cute young brunette whose name escaped my
memory and of course, me. We were pitted against Peter, Nick, Doug and the
brunette's cute beau. I thought to myself how interesting this would be. And it
was.

The answers to some of the charade antics were hysterical. Peter guessed that
Frosty the snowman was Jack Daniels. Barbara's guess that snow angels were bats
made me smile. Nick's charade of "chestnuts roasting on an open fire" went over
the head of his crowd. I gleefully guessed correctly, commenting, "Would love
to see you give clues to performing a blowjob!" under my breath.

"What?" He said, "Did you say you want to give me a blowjob?" His mischievous
grin told me that he purposefully misunderstood me.

I smiled, saying, "It's not too late to ask Santa for one for Christmas."

He laughingly retorted, "I don't think Santa could give one as well as your
lips insinuate that you can!" This comment turned our reindeer games into more
of an adult oriented game, involving one of Peter's empty Jack Daniels bottle,
yes, a game usually played in grade school called "Spin the Bottle."

I didn't really want to play and tried to make myself scarce. That didn't work.
Polly practically dragged me back by the hair on my head. I noticed that Nick
and Barbara were there in the thick of things. Doug wasn't going to play at
first. Then he changed his mind when he saw that I was being forced to play by
good-hearted Polly, whom I now thought of as a pain in the ass pixie. I thought
to myself that I might as well get a free kiss or two; it was the Holiday
Season, a time for giving. I had been a pure nun of late, giving none and
getting none.

I was the first to spin. I stood watching the bottle, listening to Doug whisper
feverishly, "Let it be me, man. Just once God, smile on me!" Nick was the lucky
man instead. His smile at Doug was one of pure gloating and smug arrogance.
"Sorry, bucko! But I guess I get the smile tonight," he said to Doug, as he
reached for me. I felt sorry for Doug. His look of disappointment almost broke
my heart.

To make him feel better I said, "Don't worry, Sweetie! The game isn't over!"
Nick's lips sealed mine as he wrapped his strong arms around me. His kiss had
more passion than before. I felt his arousal and was glad that he couldn't feel
mine. My panties were damp and clinging, almost irritating my labia. The kiss
lasted a good minute or two; in fact, it was Barbara who pulled us apart. I was
flustered. I usually keep myself intact. This male had me going and I wanted
more kisses. But I hid all this extremely well. Or so I thought until I glanced
at Pete and Polly's knowing smiles.

Barbara went next, informing Nick to get ready. She was to be disappointed,
too. The bottle pointed to a middle-aged co-worker of Pete's who was wearing a
Santa hat to cover up his balding head. She was frustrated as I told him he had
to do better than Nick. A few other people had their turn. I was lucky and
didn't have to kiss anyone. But poor Barbara did. I noticed that Nick didn't
seem to mind Barbara kissing others. Doug's turn came and he whispered some
words over the bottle. "Prayers might help. But I don't think that it will land
on Sherrie." Nick said to Doug. His comment jinxed Doug as the bottle landed on
a cute blonde from Doug's group of friends. She seemed very happy as Doug gave
her a kiss. He lingered for a moment, his lips brushing hers one more time
before he released her. I detected fireworks.

I whispered in his ear, as he sat next to me, " Doug, Looks like you two have
done that before." He tried to feign nonchalance but I saw them exchange
glances.

Thinking to myself that maybe Nick didn't jinx Doug, I rose to get my drink
refreshed. Nick's voice boomed over the noise of the party. "Where are you
going, Miss Sherrie? It's my turn and you are going to be the prize. Hey
Polly," he said, " Do you have some chap stick. Sherrie is going to need some
after I give her this kiss."

Confidently, he spun the bottle. I remained standing, hoping that it would land
on a guy. Honestly though, I wanted it to be me that the bottle chose. It
wasn't. Barbara was the victor. Nick didn't bother to hide his disappointment,
as she snared him within her arms, ready to devour. I watched Nick kiss Barbara
lightly on the lips as if she were a relative. He didn't want her. He wanted
me. The clarity of these thoughts came to me with the confidence of a woman who
has a man's desire at her fingertips. I had Nick's. This thought scared me,
because I wasn't sure if I were ready for such fire, as I imagine his desire
would be like. My wounds from the past were raw, open and burning.

His eyes were on me as he brushed her lips with his. She tried to force another
sloppy kiss from him. When she saw that he wasn't participating, she released
him. Wiping his mouth, he said, "Sherrie, it's your turn. I want a kiss, so
spin." "You don't have to win to kiss me, Nick. Ask Santa for my kisses. You
might get what you want if you're a good boy." I said. Angrily turning to
Polly, Barbara said, " I think this is a silly game." She huffed off towards
the bathroom.

I smiled at Polly, "Need some help in the kitchen?" She nodded, wanting as much
as I, to gossip about what had transpired so far this evening. I wanted to know
more about Nick. I wanted to kiss him again, and it didn't matter if he had
such amazing endowment as Polly insinuated. His kisses alone set me on fire.

On the way to the kitchen, I saw that Doug was involved in a conversation with
the cute blond. I was glad to see that they were hitting it off. I liked Doug
but not like he wanted. Polly poured us a shot of peppermint schnapps. She
said, "Girl, Nick is taken with you. Barbara is just too pushy. I heard her
tell Nick that she wished he lived around here so that he could move in with
her. She just met him, and hasn't been away from her husband that long. Talk
about scaring off a man!" As the warmth of the peppermint liquor, coursed
through my body, I reflected on what Polly said. Moving too fast can scare
anyone off, especially gun-shy people like myself.

I could feel the effects of the alcohol. Polly poured me another shot. "I don't
need any more. I won't be able to drive home," I told Polly.

"You're staying here. We have three spare rooms. No, make that two! Nick is
staying for a few days. He needed a mental break from Atlanta and his ex. She
used to be so nice and sweet. I think that money turned her into a bitch. Greed
does that, doesn't it, Sherrie?" Not waiting for an answer, she went on, "How
are you doing? Not missing David too much are you? I know it's hard on you. You
dated him for over five years. But I think that you're doing well. You seem to
be having fun. I can tell that you like Nick. He really is a very decent man
underneath all that he-man bullshit. When he and Peter get together, it drives
me crazy. I swear that they regress back to grade school mentality."

I didn't reply to anything she said about David. I was very lonely without him.
Missing the familiarly and comfort of the relationship more than I missed him.
His excessive drinking was the reason behind our breakup. David needed the
bottle to get through life. Nothing was ever his fault. Everyone was out to get
him. When I walked out, I became one of them.

Polly saw the sadness in my face. She hugged me, whispering, "You deserve the
best. I am proud of the way you are handling things." Pulling away, we wiped
the tears from our eyes.

I raised my shot glass in a toast to her. "Polly, since you have pull with
Santa, and I want him to visit this year, I will stay tonight. I salute you on
a great party that has been very entertaining and so far fight free."

Polly clinked my glass with hers, saying, and "I hope it isn't fuck free. Peter
better not get too drunk on me!"

We drank our second shot, as Nick stuck his head in the door way, asking, "Hey
you with the funny shoes, where do you keep your pen and paper?" Polly asked
why. He retorted, "I didn't ask why. I asked where!"

Peter's voice called to him, "Nicky, I found something..." the rest of his
sentence was muffled by the party noise vibrating through the house.

Nick smiled, "Never mind." He caught my eye and winked at me before leaving us.
To my surprise, I blushed.

I had better see what those two are up to," Polly said. "I will go and check on
the guests for you." I said.

Feeling quite giddy, I returned to the party. Doug was getting his and the
blonde's coats out of the closet. I hugged him goodnight, telling him to be
safe. I smiled at the blonde and was relieved to see that she didn't see me as
competition over Doug. I saw them out the door, promising to tell Polly that
they had fun. The party was beginning to thin out. The light weights were
heading home to their beds and sugar plums dancing in their heads, while the
die hards were just getting wound up in full party mode. I spied the cider
bowl. "What the heck!" I thought. I'm going have a headache anyway." So I
poured myself some cider. Standing there, ease dropping on conversations, I
noticed that some mistletoe was on the floor. I might need this later I thought
to myself. I quickly stuffed it in my cleavage.

Polly, Peter and Nick came over to where I was standing at the cider table.
Peter said, beginning a spiel that I was at once suspicious of. "Sherrie, as
Santa's surrogate for this party, I have to take care of any business that
comes along. Nicholas here had been an exceptionally good boy. He has worked
hard, donated time to charities, remembered important dates, eaten his broccoli
and has supported his favorite sports teams even though they are losers. This
makes him a very good boy. I have in my hand a letter from him, his wish list."
Nick stood watching my face with a noncommittal look.

I raised an eyebrow, saying, "He can write. Add that to his list of wonderful
accomplishments. Why are you telling me this? I'm not your helper, Santa.
That's Polly's job."

"Because, Sherrie berry, " Peter said, "Nicky's Christmas list consists of
you!" He handed me the paper.

Written in blue crayon on a piece of Peter's company stationary, it read:

Dear Santa Claus,
I have been a very good boy this year. I ate all my veggies, did what my
parents told me to do, paid my taxes, etc...you get the ideal. I will leave you
a year's supply of cookies if you give me what I want, which is all of Sherry's
kisses.
Thank you, Santa.

Love Nicky.

Peter pointed to the round brown circles with red and green dots scattered on
the page, saying, "Those are cookies with M&M's cooked in them. I love those."

I handed him the letter, retorting, "You boys did really good, but you spelled
my name wrong. This Sherry isn't me! Did you check to see if they drew on the
walls, Polly? With all this creative ability, they are armed and dangerous!"

Nick stood close to be. I could feel the heat radiating from his lean body, as
his cologne tantalized my nose with its woodsy scent. He began, "Sherrie..."
The sound of breaking glass interrupted him.

Two men were punching each other. Barbara with her hands on her hips had a very
smug look on her face. Nick muttered under his breath, "I knew this was going
to happen." He and Peter jumped right into the thick of things, trying to
restore order while not getting the daylights slugged out of them. The 7-foot
Xmas tree and its wonderful and beautiful wrapped presents were getting the
worst of the beating. Polly, bells jingling, came running from the pantry with
a broom. In her slightly intoxicated state, she hit them all. The whole scene
was a slapstick comedy, like an Abbott and Costello movie. Uncertain as to what
role I should play, I stood back. "I should get the mop and mop them all up," I
thought, since Polly's ideal to sweep them away wasn't working.

The fight ended rather abruptly. Polly, swinging her broom at on of the
brawlers, missed and side swiped Barbara, knocking her backwards over the
coffee table into a rather compromising position. She was caught between the
coffee table and the sofa. The sight before us was rather exposing. Her dress
had ridden up over her hips, showing us that she had forgotten her panties and
what a sight! She was wearing a worn garter belt and stockings. Her pussy hair
was very thick, bushy and black, looking like a birds nest between her legs.
Ah, she was not a nature blonde. Her legs were wide open, causing her pussy
lips to gape and pulse. I was horrified, as I looked away, knowing that I would
spent some time in front of a mirror, making sure mine didn't look as gross as
hers did in this position.

Apologizing, Polly tried to help her to her feet as the men stared. Barbara's
face was red hot, as she angrily brushed Polly's hand away. Spiting out
profanities, she declared she was never returning. She exited in a huff with
her would be suitors in pursuit. The party broke up at this point. Not one of
the remaining guests offered to help clean up. Polly saw everyone off with her
usual kind-heartedness in spite of chaos surrounding her Xmas tree.

I spied Nick, fighting to get the tree back to its upright stance. I hurried to
help. We silently started the cleanup process with Peter and Polly joining once
the last of the guests had gone home. With order was restored, we fell on the
couch. Peter, removing his beard, said, "Nicky, I am going to have to slaughter
a hog to get the imagine of Barbara's twat erased from my memory!" He shuddered
as if cold.

"Peter!" Polly said in a shocked tone.

Nick laughed, " Man, you should have felt it! She had my hand up her skirt
once, trying to get me to touch her privates. Let me do the seducing. Then to
top it all, she asked me to move in with her! Peter, do you think I am that
desperate?"

Peter shook his head, "Nick, after that experience you need a stiff drink. I
know I would!"

Polly stood up. Looking at Peter, she said, "Santa, I think we need to retire
to go over our game plan on Xmas eve. I think I have had enough for one night.
Sherrie, pick whichever room you want to sleep in. I'll put a nightgown in the
spare bath for you to wear, along with a toothbrush and paste. You make
yourself at home, dear. We are going to retire. 'Night, Nicky." She gave him a
brotherly peck on the cheek. She extended her hand for Peter to grasp. "Let's
go, Santa." Now Nick and I were alone for the first time all evening.

We sat in silence. Nick stretched. Looking at me, he said, "Sherrie, I am not
as young as I used to be. Those good ol' boys just about got the best of me. I
used to love to brawl in my college days, now I like to watch it on TV. Polly
was kicking everyone's ass with that broom."

I laughed, "Yes, the whole fight was funny. The poor Xmas tree! I am amazed it
survived."

He raised an eyebrow, as he said, "What! No sympathy and tea for Barbara?" That
question deserved no answer. He laughed, "You got a kick out of her getting
sacked by Polly. It made your night, didn't it?"

I quietly said, "No, that wasn't the highlight of my night, Nick."

My tone was smooth and sensual, as I thought about the actual highlight of my
evening. His kisses were so delightful. Remembering brought a small smile to my
lips, as I glanced at him, saying, "But it was funny when Polly whacked her.
She tumbled right over the coffee table..."

He interrupted, "Sherrie, lovely Sherrie, be honest and tell me the highlight
of the evening." His tone had undercurrents. Goose bumps covered my arms, as
all the alcohol I consumed that evening evaporated from my body. I was no
longer tipsy on cider and peppermint schnapps, but drunk on desire for his
kisses.

"The truth?" I asked.

I noticed that his eyes were glued to my cleavage. I glanced down to see that
the mistletoe that I had stuffed inside between my fine breasts was peeping out
at him. I started to pull it out, but Nick stopped me. "Sherrie, how did
mistletoe get into your dress? You know what you're supposed to do under
mistletoe, don't you. Love?" I didn't say anything as he kissed the swelling at
the top of my cleavage with butterfly kisses that sent shivers through my body.
"Your scent, Sherrie, what is it?" he asked.

Breathlessly, I whispered, "Opium."

"No wonder that I crave your lips. You have made me an addict. Kiss me, I need
a fix," he said. He pulled me into his strong arms. As his lips touched mine, I
shivered. Nick pulled away, "Cold, Sherrie?"

"Yes," I said, "keep me warm." He pulled me into the heat of his arms.

I didn't think about what ramifications I might face in the morning. Nor did I
let moral values or that little voice that is always there in the back of my
head stop me on this path to pleasure. I went with it as eagerly as a child
goes to its loving parent. I felt at home in this man's arms. Maybe the effects
of the holiday spirit of giving were the reason that I was throwing caution to
the wind, something I never did.

He pushed me back amongst the couch cushions, kissing the swell of my breasts
before covering my body with his lean one. With lips lightly, touching mine, he
stoked my soft hair. "I have wanted to do that all night, Sherrie. You are such
an exquisite woman." I smiled, my eyes shining 'I know'. I touched his chin
with the tips of my fingers, feeling the beginning of stubble. This added a
masculine sensual effect to his face. He rubbed his face, asking, "I am
bristly. Do I need to shave?" My answer was to kiss his chin, sucking it into
my mouth.

I could feel his manhood harden as I sucked on his chin. When I released it,
his mouth captured mine, giving me the kiss of the millennium. Our tongues
fenced with each other, our hands tugging at clothing. When his hand slid up my
skirt, I didn't try to resist. He gave my leg a long stroke, starting at the
knee on the inside, running up my stocking and over the edge, to stop at the
bare flesh exposed above the stocking's lacey top. He maneuvered his fingers
over the fabric of my satin panties, pausing at the damp spot in the hot
center. He pulled away from my mouth, kissing my hair he whispered, "Why are
you wet, Sherrie?"

I placed both of my hands on his face, turning his head back to mine so that I
could kiss him again while throwing caution to the wind and pushing my mound of
Venus against his hand. He cupped the fullness of my pussy with his palm as he
slid the cumbersome fabric to the side to allow his fingers access to my labia
and clit. He paused for a moment over my shaved lips, enjoying the smoothness,
I imagine. The instant he touched my clit, I came. It surprised both of us. I
soaked his fingers and my panty. He pulled hard at the fabric, which resisted
at first, before surrendering to his strength. I barely felt the sting it made
against my flesh as the cool night air embraced me. My wetness was now soaking
my thighs, as it had no other place to go. He sat up, holding my torn panty in
his hand, saying to me, "Sherrie, I am claiming these as mine." He inhaled the
fragrance they held, saying, "You smell so delicious." He caressed his face
with the panty.

His next action was a much-welcomed one. He moved between my legs, pushing my
thighs apart. He said nothing as he kissed my thighs for ages. I tried not to
show my eagerness but couldn't help it. He had me wringing and slowly grinding
my body. Tracing the top of my upper thigh with his tongue, he paused, "What's
wrong? Do you have a need? Tell me..." I arched my hips as an answer. But he
needed words. "Tell me, Sherrie. What do you need?"

Brokenly, I whispered in a tortured state, "Nick...please...I want...oh,
God...I want you to..." His mouth on my labia stopped my torture. This man
played havoc with my pussy. He would run his lips along the bare strip on my
pussy lips, then dart his tongue over my swollen clit. He licked and teased me
for a long time, bringing me close to the edge and then stopping just short of
an orgasm. I had my hands in his soft dark hair, grinding his face with wild
abandonment, feeling like a wild animal lost in the needs of the flesh. It had
been ages since I had experienced this kind of raw sexuality.

His tongue steadily stroking my clit sent me over the edge again. I came,
wetness flowing over the blossom of my womanhood. He didn't stop but continued
to play with my throbbing clit as he slid a finger inside. "Come again,
Sherrie," he commanded. I did. My pussy walls gripped his finger as I shuddered
out an orgasm. I felt him slid his finger deeper as he found my g-spot. "Here's
that knob. Found it. Feel good, Baby?" He steadily rubbed it, dancing his
fingertips over it. I felt the tension building in my body. I was coming at his
demand, this time spraying him with a small amount of dew much to my surprise.
Never had that happened before. I was a little embarrassed by it. But his
kisses on my upper thigh comforted me, as did his words. "That's a good girl. I
need you as wet as you can get."

He stood above, undressing for my viewing pleasure. Off came his sweater,
showing me his tanned muscular hairy chest. I brushed my fingers over his flat
tummy. He pushed my hands away, laughing. "Now Sherrie, patience is a virtue."
He fumbled with his belt. I knew he did this on purpose to tease me. I yawned.
Two can play. "Bored, again?" he asked. "Well, we can't have this. Not while I
am attempting to make incredible love to you." He pressed his body over mine.
My arms encircled him, enjoying the feel of his muscular back. We kissed again
for ages. I could feel his hard cock on the top of my thigh. I tried to touch
him but he moved my hand, saying, no, commanding, "What do you want now,
Sherrie? My cock...do you need me?"

Once again he stood before, his hardness monstrous. It looked like his pants
were going to split open down the front. With wide-eyed wonder, I watched him
unzip his pants to release his torrid cock. " Oh my God," I thought, "I can't
handle that!" His cock was close to ten inches and very thick. Perfectly
chiseled in design, I saw every pore and vein on it. It's purple velvet head,
glistened from his pre-come. I wanted to taste it. Now I commanded, "Come
here." He did. I placed a manicured finger at the tip, slowly circling it, then
sliding it down the back of his tool to the hairy sacs at its base. He moaned,
as my hand travel upwards to the tip. I sat up, pulling him between my legs. I
rubbed my face up and down his cock. It's satin smooth skin, alive and hot,
pulsing with a mind of its own. He groaned my name. I asked, "What is it, Nick?
What do you need?" His own question now haunting him, "Do you need this?" I
flicked the tip of my mouth over his glistening cap, licking up his juices. I
got several inches in my mouth, holding them there and sucking. He purred as my
mouth engulfed more of his cock. I tried not to choke but I did anyway, as he
was so big.

His hands were in my hair urging me on. Instead of trying to swallow him whole,
I nibbled on the sides and head, while stroking his balls and inner thighs. He
pulled away from me, fastening the button on his fly. "Sherrie, I am not
fucking you on this couch like some teenager in heat," he said as he lifted me
into his arms. Trying to be quiet but not succeeding he carried me upstairs to
the bedroom he was using. "Polly's night gown will not be used tonight, unless
you want it, Sherrie." He was asking me if I wanted our foreplay to become love
play. As a true Southern Gentle he was giving me the chance to decide if I
wanted this to happen.

"The gown be damned!" I said, sounding like a dime store romance novel. He
laughed.

"I will be right back," he said. He left the room in a run, quite comical with
his cock sticking out of his trousers. I lay there debating if I should
undress. I was still thinking when he returned with my torn panties, his
sweater and our shoes. He locked the door behind him. "Can't have anyone
popping in on us unannounced."

I smiled, thinking that if Polly and Pete knew what was happening that they
wouldn't be too shocked. I think they knew that Nick and I had been on a
collision course down the highway to lust all night long. He stood in front of
me, this man who was the object of more desire and need than I have felt in
years. He undid his pants and slid them down. Stepping out of them with his
eyes on me, he posed flexing his muscles as if he were a bodybuilder, causing
me to laugh. Still in his underwear and socks, he climbed on the bed beside me.
I smiled, saying, "Nick, love your under-roos. So...should we play cards or
maybe play a game of "I spy!" I was teasing him, unsure of how I should behave.
Should I be naughty or nice?

Nick said, "Sherrie, I don't have any cards. I want to play find the
mistletoe." He stood up, pulling me off the bed. Seriously, he said, "I have
not had the pleasure of enjoying a lady like you in a very long time, Sherrie.
My life lacks the thrill and luster that a woman such as you generates in every
pore of her being. I asked Santa for you and for once in my life he has
actually come through. Now, Woman of Wonder, show me what my eyes yearn to
behold and my mouth longs to taste!" He reclined across the bed with his eyes
roaming over my body, as if it were already unclothed. I slowly, unzipped the
back of my dress, slipping it off my shoulders and letting it fall to the
floor. In just my black sheer bra with the mistletoe sticking out and my black
thigh highs, I joined him on the bed.

"I think that Santa would want you to unwrap the rest of your present, Nicky,"
I said in a very low sensual voice.

Magnetically, our bodies melted together. We kissed for ages and ages with one
kiss ending and another starting. I felt his hands at the back of my bra,
unhooking it. My breasts were happy when he placed his strong hands on their
bare skin. Lying on my back with him crouched above me: he ran his fingertips
over my nipples. The mistletoe still clung the valley of my cleavage, begging
for use. Pulling my right nipple taut, the mistletoe, to kiss me there.
"Careful," I said, "Mistletoe can be deadly."

He pulled harder on my nipple, "Your breasts are deadlier." He leaned down to
take the hard nipple in his mouth, suckling it like a child would for milk. I
felt the sensations all the way to my clit, and I got wetter.

His fingers moved down my stomach, dancing over my pubic mound until they found
my wet nether lips. "Sherrie, never have I seen any woman get as wet as you
do!" he said.

"Is that bad?" I asked.

"Hell, no. Baby, it's great. The wetter you get, the easier it will be for me
to get this big cock inside." I wondered to myself if that would be possible.
He was so huge and I had never tried one so large. My thoughts must have been
transparent, because he suddenly had me in his arms, holding me tightly,
saying, "My sweet wonderful sexy lady, I would never hurt you. If it doesn't
work, holding you all night and bringing you pleasure with my mouth and hands
will be enough for me." I wanted to give him as much pleasure.

I removed myself from his arms, kissing his chest. I hooked my fingers under
the band of his underwear, tugging them down. I slid them off, along with his
socks. He was now totally naked before me. I gazed at his body for a moment,
drinking in the sight of his torrid massive cock. I started my voyage of kisses
at his ankles; soft warm wet pecks, traveling at a mile over the speed limit,
until they stopped at his inner thighs. I nestled between his legs, kissing and
licking around his inner and outer thighs, once and a while flicking across his
balls. I used one hand to massage his pubic bone and lower stomach. The other
hand traced the length of his beautiful cock while kissing his thighs.

My fingers encountered wetness at the tip of his throbbing cock. I raised my
fingers to my lips, tasting the nectar while looking at him. I had him
hypnotized. I worshipped his manhood with my mouth, sucking all the pre-cum off
its head. I would slide my mouth down the shaft, let the head pop out to suck
only it, and then back down again. My hand became an extension of my mouth, as
it covered what areas my mouth didn't. They sang a duo for his cock's pleasure.
He squirmed, as his body manifested a huge orgasm just for me. He cried out as
he came; more in dismay that in pleasure. As his cock jettisoned its steamy
load into my mouth, on my face, hair and hands, I watched his face. Our eyes
locked. When his shuddering subsided, I removed my mouth from his still hard
cock. I couldn't believe the amount of come. It was everywhere. "Should I go
clean up?" I thought to myself. Instead, I licked some of it off my hand, while
he watched.

He reached for some tissue that was on the bedside table. He cleaned me up as
if I were a child who had chocolate everywhere. "I made a mess, didn't I? It's
your fault. You made me come before I wanted to. You knew what you were doing,
didn't you? You had me at your mercy, something you fancied doing all night,"
he laughed. "Don't know of anyone who has your oral talents. You drive me
crazy. Now guess what, Sherrie? It's my turn." He pushed me back amongst the
pillows, bypassing my mouth and breasts, going straight for my soaking wet
pussy. Once again he made magic on my hot wet center, fucking with his mouth,
tongue and fingers, making me come over and over. I lost count of my climaxes.
When he tired, I was a contented limp noodle.

He covered me with his body, kissing me, letting me taste my juices on his
mouth. I felt his hard rigid cock, twitching at the top of my thigh. "Sherrie,
let's try. I ache for you." I wrapped my legs around his urging him within. I
was on fire; wanting, needing, craving, and not caring about anything except
his manhood inside me. He placed the bulbous head at my wet tender entrance. I
trembled as he slid in the huge cap. "Are you okay? You feel good." My answer
was to arch my hips upward and grip him with my pussy muscles. I succeeded into
getting another couple of inches inside my hot tunnel.

"I want all of you inside me, Nick."

He pushed into me, his rod of steel almost splitting me open. I cried out in a
mixture of pain and pleasure. He muffled my mouth with his, kissing me,
whispering, "Sherrie, I haven't been this deep inside a woman in years. Take
me, baby." His stroke was steady and purposeful, as I got wetter and wetter. I
felt his cock's head rubbing over my g-spot. The pressure applied was perfect,
as my body tensed for an earth shattering orgasm. With my nails digging into
his back, I cried out again, as my body racked in spasms with my pussy
vibrating over and over.

He took my stockinged legs in his hand, placing them over his shoulder. Next he
placed his strong talented hands under my hips, bringing me off the bed. I met
him thrust for thrust, his cock so perfect in my wet tunnel. My body tensed as
he stroked faster and faster, pumping his tool into my welcoming pussy,
stretching it to the limit, piercing me with it. And I was taking it. And it
felt good. This amazed me as much as it did him. His breathing became shallow
and rapid; I knew that he would soon come, as I was on the edge again.

He moved his hand from my hips to squeeze my breasts and tug on the nipples. I
came hard, my body lost in tremors, while my pussy clenched tightly around his
cock, milking it. He couldn't take it and once again I got the pleasure of
watching his animated face as he came, squirting his hot come load into me. My
pussy cried when he slid his throbbing spent cock out. He rolled over beside
me, pulling me into the haven of his strong arms, placing the comforter over
us. My body still quaked with aftershocks. He kissed my forehead, whispering
sweet nothings. I would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it to experience the
wonder of his lovemaking. Part of me was in a state of shock, not believing
that I took all of his cock like I did. If I had not desired him so, it
wouldn't have made it into me at all.

Nick whispered in my ear, just before drifting off, "Sherrie, that was heaven."
Listening to his light snore, I thought of how he got his Christmas wish and
how content he was, so peaceful and glowing with satisfaction. Knowing that if
I looked into the mirror, I would see the identical look on my face, I nestled
down into the comfort of his arms. Just before I, too, drifted off into
slumber, I thought that maybe I should write a letter to Santa.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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