Page 11 of All the Way
“I understand that my pussy is yours.” She looks down at me as my tongue descends on her clit. I push her legs open wide and hold her down by her thighs. I cannot get enough of her. Her scent is intoxicating. The curve of her legs and hips is making my cock press so fucking hard against my jeans. But if she says she isn’t ready for my cock yet, I’ll let her feel something good anyway. I’ll let her know that she’s mine only.
Her breathings picks up and I swirl my tongue against her clit, my lips wrapped tight around it. Fucking her hard with my fingers, I squeeze her ass as she lets out a series of sweet little moans into the air.
“Come all over my tongue baby. That’s it.” I pull her orgasm out from deep inside her as she struggles to be silent. I love the way her body moves and writhes and as she comes all over my face, but I crave more. I need her to scream my name as I bury myself deep inside her, making her come with my cock.
But this is pretty fucking good for the time being.
Chapter Five - Jess
My body wakes up before my mind does. I’m in bed, warm and cozy under all of my blankets, and it’s almost as though I can feel Chris next to me. But slowly I start to remember what happened last night, and I feel a wash of relief that he’s not beside me this morning.
I can still feel his fingers inside, pushing deep down and making me crave more. I can still feel the goosebumps plump up over in the insides of my thighs as his breath moved up toward my pussy.
I sit up in my bed and rub my eyes with the heels of my palms. It’s Christmas morning, and all I can think of is him between my legs.
Swinging my feet off the bed, I get up and pad over to the window. The snow has let up, leaving a cloudless sky in its wake with the sun just starting to come up over the hills in the East. I know a sky like this means it’s cold out, but inside my room, I’m warm. It feel so good to know that everything out there is a mess, but inside my home, I’m alright.
I just have to keep telling myself that, and pretend last night never happened.
That was the closest I’d ever gotten. Chris has done things to me before. Amazing, toe-curling, remember-the-feeling-the-next-day things. But I was so close this time to begging him to just take me right then and there.
Now I’m just glad I didn’t. And I hope he and I can pretend nothing happened.
I grab my phone and check the time. It’s a little too early for anyone to be up yet, so I go downstairs, planning to start making breakfast. We have all the things we need for chocolate chip pancakes, and I know once I start cooking, the smell of sizzling, buttery pancakes will tempt my family out of their beds.
Without turning on any lights in the hallway, I make my way quietly toward the stairs. The sun is starting to bleed into the hallway and cast a warm glow over everything. I’m extra careful to avoid the spots on the stairs that I know make a squeaking noise when you step on them. I turn the corner, expecting Chris to still be sleeping on the couch with that silly pink blanket my dad gave him, but when I get to the living room, he’s gone. The blanket is folded up neatly and placed on the back of the couch, and that’s the only trace that Chris was here. I even go into the hallway at the front door to check to see if his boots are still there, and there’s nothing. The blanket is the only evidence that he was ever here.
A numb feeling washes over me as I make my way back into the living room. The tree’s still lit up, and without thinking, I whisper a swear word under my breath and wonder why Chris even bothered to come over last night. Why he bothered to bring the tree inside, when I would have been perfectly capable of doing it myself. Why he sat down with my family and ate dinner and dessert and agreed to stay the night. Why he squeezed my hand and reassured me and helped me have the courage to do everything I did last night, for my family and for me.
Why he pushed me down and kissed me and made me come like I never have before.
Even though it’s Christmas and it’s uncharitable to say bad things about anyone, let alone your ex, even if it’s just under your breath, I let out another little swear and slink into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and start making breakfast.
My mind runs cold as I start pulling down bowls and measuring cups from the cabinets and retrieving the wet and dry ingredients from the fridge and pantry. I stare blankly at the tree, and I’m more relieved now than I was before that I woke up alone. I made the right decision. Good job, me.
And if I wasn’t able to listen to Christmas music last night, then damn it, I’m going to listen to it now. Instead of putting it on the stereo and risk jolting everyone awake, I grab my earbuds from the pocket of my coat in the hallway and fire up my personal radio app on my phone and get to work on the pancakes.
I quickly start to take out my anger on the poor eggs and milk. I know the recipe by heart, and I crack two eggs and measure out the correct amount of milk into one of my mom’s old glazed ceramic bowls from the 70s, beating everything into a frothy mixture to the tempo of an instrumental version of Carol of the Bells for way longer than necessary.
That fucking guy. I was so right to do what I did. Now I can go back to California with the confidence I lacked when I left here a year ago.
I catch my brother come into the living room from the corner of my eye. I don’t feel like talking to him, and I put my head down and turn around to grab some half and half from the fridge for the coffee that’s finally ready. He’s saying something behind me, but I can’t make it out over the music.
“Jess!” My earbuds pop out of my ears and I swing around to see Chris standing in front of me. He’s traded in his rugged red button-down and dark jeans for a white button-down and a skinny black tie and slacks, but all I can focus on is his gorgeous smile and the light in his eyes.
I’m taken aback, and my heart leaps into my stomach, sending butterflies through my body.
“What are you doing here?” I ask. My brother is behind him, laughing.
“We were standing here for a good minute before I finally had to take matters into my own hands,” Chris says, pulling my phone out of the front pocket of my pajama pants and setting it down on the counter. “Everything okay?”
“I thought you were gone,” I say, turning my attention to the coffee, pouring myself a big cup and sloshing some milk into my mug.
“Merry Christmas to you too, sis,” Paul says, smiling. “Did someone piss in your corn flakes this morning?”
“Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting anyone to be up.” I turn back to the boys, sipping my coffee. “You guys want pancakes?”
“Make mine with extra love,” Chris says, wrapping his arms around me and planting a kiss on the top of my head.
