A Christmas Affair

He surged forward.

“Ahh.” I tore my lips away just as quickly and sank my nails deep into his shoulder blades.

Lyfe hissed in his own shock and froze. “Did I do something wrong?” For a few seconds, he remained completely and utterly still, except for his throbbing cock pulsing inside of me.

I wasn’t sure if I was okay or not. I was halfway embarrassed and halfway scared that I needed a doctor. I thought he might’ve broken something.

At long last, he pulled his head up to search my face. “Are you all right? Do you want to stop?”

If I said yes, I knew that he would be in an iced shower for at least a week. He continued to hold his breath until I mustered up my courage. “N-no. I’m okay,” I panted.

“Are you sure?” The minute the question was out, I could tell that he wanted to smack himself over the head. Why keep looking a gift horse in the mouth?

I eased on a soft smile and then slid my hands down to his strong, muscled ass. “I’m absolutely positive,” I whispered. Clearly, it was my turn to take charge. I dipped and rolled my hips, easing him in deeper.

Lyfe struggled to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head again. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on mine as he started to move inside of me again. Somehow, in some unexplainable way, my body heat penetrated his soul. At least it felt that way as wave after wave of pleasure washed over us. Our hips moved in sync and, within a few glorious strokes, we were filling the living room with soft sighs and moans. We’d done it. We’d officially made the leap from mere high school boyfriend and girlfriend to full-fledged lovers, and it was clear that neither one of us was sorry.

While we rode high, I knew that this was a moment to be savored and forever etched into our memories. I watched as the flittering light from the fireplace danced across his dewy skin, and gloated while his lower lip quivered between strokes and low baritone moans.

“Ohh, Lyfe,” I panted. I was more in love with him at that moment than I’ve ever been. Our pants and moans blended together like a beautiful duet.

Soon after, he swept more kisses down the column of my neck while whispering, “I love you so much, Corona Mae. I’m yours forever. I’m here, baby. Tell me what you want—what you need.”

Hell, all I needed was for him to keep doing what he was doing.

I rolled my hips a third and then a fourth time. I was getting warmer and wetter with each stroke. It seemed like a whole new world was opening up to me and I was greedy to see and feel more. Is this how it always is with sex? Or am I feeling these things because I’m in love with Lyfe?

“Whoa … whoa … wait … wait … “ Lyfe gasped and then bit his lower lip. I could tell that it was just an attempt to regain control of his deteriorating willpower. Mercifully, I eased up and gave him all of fifteen seconds to try to regroup. As he opened his eyes, I was once again overwhelmed not only by the passion flickering in them but by the intensity of love that danced there as well.

With renewed confidence, Lyfe surged his hips forward and watched my expressions with fascination. His strokes were gentle, but he made sure that they grew longer and deeper.

“How does it feel, baby?” Lyfe asked. His lips stretched wide as he watched me struggle to answer. After a few more strokes, his cockiness evaporated and his toes curled tight. “Oh, God,” he groaned and then dropped his head against the crook of my neck where he breathed in my scent and lazily dusted more kisses across my collar bone and then down the valley between my breasts.

“Mmm. You smell and taste like honey and cinnamon.”

“Oh, Lyfe,” I moaned, digging my nails into the tender flesh of his muscled shoulders. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I have no intentions of ever stopping. You’re mine now.”

Diary, I felt like I was really losing my mind. But through the fuzzy mesh of my eyelashes I could see that in his quest to give me pleasure, he was steadily marching himself right over a cliff. Things started tingling in places that I can’t even risk writing to you. But just know that it was all so wonderful.

Lyfe’s breath came in short, choppy puffs. Before long, he was completely and utterly lost.

I started slipping into a vortex of pleasure. It became increasingly hard to keep air in my lungs while my body was being assaulted with all these wonderful sensations. Our moans grew into a crescendo that drowned out Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” playing on the radio.

I cried out and then started trembling violently. Above me, Lyfe unleashed a growl that sounded like something out of the jungles of Africa. A half a second later there was a bright light and then we were floating in a galaxy of stars. It was the most beautiful thing ever.

Collapsing in a heap, he locked his arms around me while I rolled over and peppered kisses across his sweat-slicked forehead. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He fluttered his eyes open. “That’s kind of an odd thing to thank me for, don’t you think?”

I blushed and then was rewarded with more kisses. “Thank you,” I repeated.

He just stamped on a silly smile and said, “You’re welcome. Feel free to ask me to do this with you again any time. Your wishes are my command.”

I giggled. “How about now?”

He blinked. “Now, now?”

“Yeah.” I smirked. “That is … if you’re UP for it.”

We both looked down at his growing cock.

“I don’t think that is going to be a problem,” he said. The front door banged open.

From the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of skinny legs racing up the stairs. (Tess! She probably saw the whole thing!) But that wasn’t our main problem. Mom and Dad came back home early.

“Damn it, Adele! It’s colder than a witch’s titties out here,” my father declared, swiping off his hat.

“Just be glad that we were able to get back before they closed the roads, Rufus,” Momma said. “Just get yourself on in by the fire and I’ll fix you some … “ They froze as their eyes finally landed on the scene before the fireplace.

Lyfe and I were equally frozen.

Then, finally, Daddy thundered, “WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE?”

“Uh … evening, Mr. and Mrs. Banks,” Lyfe fumbled out. Hell. I don’t think he could think of anything else to say.

But Daddy brought us back to reality real quick.

“Adele, where’s my damn gun?”

That was cue enough for Lyfe to jump his butt up and make a grab for his clothes. The rest of the sleeve of condoms sliding across the floor didn’t make things any better. Momma looked faint.

Daddy pulled out his shotgun from his gun cabinet next to the grandfather clock.

“Wait, Daddy no!” I yelled, jumping up—naked as the day I came into the world.

“Father in heaven,” Daddy roared and then took aim.

“Rufus, baby, wait!”

Lyfe tried to cram one leg through his boxers but ended up tipping over too much and tripping over the head of the bearskin rug. It was a good thing too because Daddy got off his first shot.

POW!

The buckshot grazed Lyfe’s ass cheeks. “Oww!”

“Rufus, honey, don’t kill the boy!”