Page 2 of Christmas Sunrise
"Please, Jenna, let me feast on you. It will be the perfect way to start the day. I'll be thinking about it all day. Walking the dogs, pushing a trolley around the supermarket, and doing the inventory at work. Let me have the taste of you in my mouth for the rest of the day."
"Fuck, Marty," she whispers, and the way it sounds more like a gasp than anything else has me sliding down her body and lifting the T-shirt she's wearing. When her legs fall open for me, I know I've won this battle and I smile to myself before taking my prize.
Tonguing her open, I kiss her all over her pussy until her hands are in my hair and she's the one thrusting into my mouth. Her moans deepen when I stroke her clit with the flat of my tongue. I stay there, locked in a perfect rhythm as she grips me harder and grinds up into my face.
"God, Marty, you're too good at this," she says and I can't deny how praise works for me too when I feel blood warm my dick again. I take her praise and use it to spur me on, keeping my strokes even and slow and only coming off to kiss the inside of her thigh the way I know she loves.
Over the last half a year, I've come to know when Jenna is getting close to orgasm and I notice all the tell-tale signs now. She's holding her breath. She's digging her nails into my scalp. She's playing with her nipples, pulling at the points through the cotton of the T-shirt.
"Please," she pants. "Stay there. Right there. Please don't fucking stop."
And then there's the begging. That neediness in her, that desire for me and my tongue or my dick or whatever part of my body is bringing her pleasure. That has become one of my favourite things about Jenna. She doesn't withhold anything with me in the bedroom, or in any part of our lives, in fact, and I fucken love it. I'm addicted to it, which probably explains why I'm as hard as a rock again and tilting my hips into the mattress as she comes, flooding my mouth and beard. She breathes out my name like it's the only word she knows.
"That's my good girl," I say, lacing kisses up her inner thigh as I come up to take more of her in. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness now and I see her faint smile and a halo of her hair on the pillow surrounding her beautiful face.
"Happy now?" she asks provocatively but I don't miss how she shivers at the good girl comment. She may be thirteen years older than me and turning forty-four in the spring but she will always be my good girl.
"Not really," I say, palming my erection as I come to kneel between her legs. Jenna pushes up on her elbows and looks down at my hand.
"No, Marty, we need to get up. AJ and Rocky will scratch down our door any minute now," she says with a slow shake of her head.
"Is that a definite no?" I check because, as much as I want to play this game, it has to be a game she wants to play too.
Jenna throws her head back and laughs. "Fuck you, Aiden O'Martin."
"Oh, you're full-naming me. Now, I know exactly how much you want my dick inside you."
As if to confirm, Jenna brings her knees up. "Only because I might be ovulating."
I move up her body and then line us up so I can enter her hard and swift, but I wait a moment before I do. Jenna has taught me well that a little anticipation can go a long, long way in sex.
"You can tell yourself that, cupcake, but we both know the truth."
"You shouldn't be this hard again so quickly," she says as she brings a hand down to stroke me and place my head against her slickness. "You're not twenty-four anymore."
I almost tell her that a part of me will always be the twenty-four year old who fell in love with her on a Greek island, but I don't know for sure if it sounds like madness. Instead, I push down and up into her, letting her feel exactly how hard I am.
"God, I fucking love you," she moans as I stay seated deep inside her.
"No, you just love my cock," I say with my first thrust.
Her hand comes to the back of my neck again and she pulls my hair, hard.
"I fucking love your cock, and I fucking love you," she says looking straight into my eyes. "Now fuck me, Marty. Fuck me and make me come and give me something to think about all day long too."
"I don't need telling twice," I say before riding her into the mattress.
Chapter Two
Jenna
I'm still thinking about Marty fucking me this morning as I drive over to his parent’s house, the smile on my face impossible to shift. I dropped him off at work nearly an hour ago and I’ll return later this afternoon to pick him up before we get my brother from the airport. The dogs are napping at home after the long walk I gave them while Marty braved the supermarket earlier, and now with him safely at the restaurant, it's the perfect time to go and get his present. I hid it at his parent’s place rather than risk him finding it at ours.
We did say we wouldn't do presents. We don't really need anything and we're both eager to put money aside for when the baby hopefully, maybe comes, so not giving each other Christmas gifts seemed like a good idea. But I couldn't resist. I know Marty's been saving up for these knives for months and I also know how much he'll enjoy using them at work, or maybe he'll choose to just keep them at home. Either way, Marty deserves it.
When we finally moved in together last year, I had all the hope that life with Marty would be fun, fulfilling and fantastically filthy, but it has exceeded all those expectations. Life with Marty is a dream. And that's because he makes it his priority to make it so. He supports everything I do from my work as a sex and relationships columnist, to the amateur weight-lifting competitions I do, and the second book I have been slowly working on for the last few years. I never want him to think I take it for granted or don't appreciate it. That's what this Christmas gift represents: my love and my gratitude.
Using the spare key I have to his parents' house - something that delights and jars me in equal measure whenever I use it - I call out as I walk in.
