Page 58 of Wine & Dine

“Like a Christmas party?” Her voice lowers as if she has forgotten we are upon the season.

“It’s a fundraiser for charity with a Christmas theme.”

“A Christmas theme,” she scoffs as she stares at me. “So a Christmas party. Do I need to get dressed up?” Her wardrobe isn’t always her top concern, and from the purchases she’s made, it’s clear most of her clothing is casual and practical. The dress for our dance lessons won’t be enough this time. She’s going to need something a bit fancier for the party.

“Why don’t you let me take care of it?” I suggest. She needs something elegant and long and black to set off her eyes and her hair. Her head tilts, questioning me.

“You aren’t going to make me wear an elf costume or anything ridiculous like that, are you?”

I chuckle. The pain in my head has subsided considerably. Instead, my thoughts fill with her wearing a naughty elf outfit and me playing sexy Santa. She could sit on my lap and tell me all the ways she’s been a bad girl this year.

“Actually, it’s a bit more formal than a costume party.”

Her eyes narrow, suspicious once again. “How formal?”

“Can you just trust me?” I tease, suddenly wanting to surprise her with a beautiful dress and a fancy night out. It’s the perfect evening to tell her everything.

“I do trust you.” The way she says it sounds like something more, something deeper, and suddenly, my chest pinches again. An echo, like a singular drum, thumps behind my ribs. I sit up and lean toward her, kiss her like I should have done last night, and this morning, and when I came home. I missed her mouth all day.

“How is your headache?” she asks after a long latching to one another. Our bodies shift closer and begin to entwine.

“You cured me,” I tease.

“I’m not a doctor.” She giggles under the kisses I place on her neck.

“No, but I think you’re a miracle worker.” She’s definitely more powerful than a cardiologist if she’s resuscitating my heart.

“You’re sweet,” she murmurs, returning to my lips. Her mouth moves tenderly over mine, drawing my lower lip between hers. Then she nips me.

“And you’re naughty,” I tell her while her eyes gleam in the dim light of my room. My headache forgotten, I press my back to the headboard while Dolores’s eyes track my bare chest, fully on display for her. I push down the sheet to reveal red boxer briefs and pat my lap. “You’ve been very naughty, and Santa wants to hear all about it.”

She laughs outright until I reach around her back and awkwardly drag her over me.

“I’m going to crush your legs,” she jokes, but I’ll have no body shaming here. I set her fine ass up close to the firm bulge straining behind the cotton material. With her back to my chest, I force her legs to straddle mine as she faces away from me. She’s wearing a T-shirt of mine, and my hands work up her inner thighs as I speak.

“Now, tell Santa all the ways you’ve been a bad girl.”

“I think I’m supposed to tell Santa how I’ve been a good girl,” she corrects me until I reach the cotton over her sex. My fingers rest against the damp heat.

“Such a good girl,” I moan and then dip a finger under the seam and into her. She bucks back, her hands flailing for purchase somewhere. “Lean forward.” With her thighs splayed open, her hands fall to my knees, which I bend to force her legs to spread even wider. We’re a mix of angled legs as I add another finger to her center.

“On second thought, lean back,” I mutter, wanting the weight of her body against my chest. With my free hand, I move her hair over one shoulder and nibble at her neck while I tease her sex. “Good girl.”

She purrs, and the sound spurs me to add a third finger. Dolores stretches and draws me into her, and a drop of moisture gathers on my briefs. I work her with three digits before my dick gets his turn. Releasing her, I hold my fingers up, and Dolores reaches for my wrist. She tugs my fingers to her mouth and opens to suck them.

“Sweet fuck,” I mutter, pressing at her back to shift her forward. I wrestle with my briefs until Dolores releases my fingers and adjusts herself to tug the material down the remainder of my legs. She shifts herself to remove her underwear. The separation between us is brief, and I quickly scoop her under her armpits again, dragging her back to reposition her how she sat before. The seam of her ass splits and surrounds my dick.

“Fuck,” I hiss. This woman. What is she doing to me? We need lube for her to slip up and down my length in this position, and while I’d love to experiment with her ass and some play, I want my Santa fantasy. I tip her hips, and she leans forward, bracing her hands between my thighs, which are holding hers open wide once again. She reaches under her and guides me to slick folds and then falls back to draw me into her.

A string of fucks murmurs from my lips. She’s in the reverse cowgirl position, taking the lead to ride me, and my eyes might cross with the pleasure this angle gives.

“So naughty. So stunning,” I gasp through ragged breaths as she bounces up and down my dick. With her ass between us, I watch it lift and lower while she swallows me into her. My hand slides down her spine until my palm flattens at the base. I stretch my thumb to rest at another entrance. She stiffens but continues to rock over me. “Ever have anyone back here?”

“Not my thing,” she stutters as she draws up and then plunges back down. Her pace increases. I won’t push her, but my thumb applies pressure to the puckered opening. Her breath hitches before she speaks in a strangled tone. “What are you doing?”

“Do you like this?” My voice lowers, watching her ass move and clench as her body jostles up and over me.

“I…I don’t know.”