Page 78 of Sebastian

She picks up the long flat present that Ms. Martha wrapped for me. I stab at my eggs, shove them in my mouth, and try not to gag. They are awful and not the quality of cooking I’m used to at my house. I think I’ll retire my cooking skills after this disastrous meal.

“Open it and see.”

I wash down the bad eggs with some orange juice, hiding my smile behind the glass as she takes her time opening it. When she sees it’s a lone charcoal pencil, she raises an eyebrow.

“What is this?”

She giggles as she mocks to use it as her eyebrow pencil which would be way too dark for her blonde eyebrows.

“It’s what you’ll need for your classes,” I say in a nonchalant manner, popping a piece of bacon in my mouth and knowing full well it’s way beyond her ridiculous price budget.

“Classes?”

She lowers the pencil, confused as she gazes at me. I explain what I mean, the course schedule, and the hours they offer design classes at the art museum. At first, she’s flabbergasted, shocked that I would do such a thing for her. Then her voice lowers and tears well into her eyes as she thanks me for being so thoughtful.

I see the dreamy look she gets on her face when she talks about clothes and stuff. I even caught her sketching something on a napkin at dinner the other night. It’s obviously a passionthat she shoves aside for far too long. If I can afford for her to take some classes with the best instructors in town, then it’s money well spent.

She plops her skinny ass on my lap as she bombards me with question after question. Most I can’t answer. All I don’t care to answer when the only thing separating my bulging dick and her soft warm pussy is two layers of fabric. Before I can make a move on her, she plants a big kiss on my lips and then returns to her seat to finish her breakfast.

I swallow the rest of mine down, knowing Ms. Martha is making a Christmas Eve feast for my friends and us tonight where I’ll also display my rusty piano skills now that Jiles got it tuned and moved downstairs.

I’m about to retrieve my next gift, a key to my place when Chloe darts into the bedroom. She hollers that she needs a minute and slams the bedroom door behind her. Bewildered, I look from the door to Jinkies, hopping up on a table by the window, unfazed, as if her behavior is normal. Without anything to do, I clear the table, clean the kitchen, and start the dishwasher. When she finally opens the door, it’s well worth the wait.

She leans casually against the doorframe, her elbow propped above her head and her hand resting on her hip. Silky strands of hair cascade down her back, and a touch of makeup enhances the natural beauty of her skin. A torrid smirk plays on her red lipstick-stained mouth as my eyes roam over her figure.

A see-through wine-red lacy teddy, with a plunging neckline and heart-shaped cut-out above her waxed mound, molds to her skin. I’m across the room in a flash and running a finger down the delicate fabric. It’s classier than the Mrs. Claus fur trimmed teddy she wore for me the night I built her tree, cried into her hair and asked her to be my girlfriend.

“Goddamn.”

My voice is raspy as I struggle not to fuck her against the very doorframe she’s splayed against. In an instant, my dick is diamond hard and a surge of lust courses through my body, settling deep in my balls that want to be slapping against her taint.

“You like?” she taunts in a sexy little murmur before pushing my hands away to twirl around. Her little butt wiggles with the G-string separating her perfect ass with another cutout across her back. The ribbon holding the whole thing together is tied in a bow at her nape under her hair. Those design classes I gave her needs to go to designing lingerie and nothing else.

“Fuuuck, is this my present?” I groan, shuffling out of my Christmas boxers as fast as I can when she leads me into the bedroom. Her bed covers are thrown back and two large towels cover the white sheets, drawing a raised eyebrow from me. “Does this mean more whipped cream?”

“It’s one of your presents.”

She walks to the opposite side of the bed and crawls to the middle of the towels. I’m dying to know what she has in mind. My dick is so hard it’s getting painful and already leaking pre-cum. Her blue eyes rack over my body, my muscles flexing in response—eager to look good for her as she does to me.

“You have to find the other one.”

Her tone is sultry and teasing as she kneels with her hands roaming over her skin. My body is on fire, my breathing turns shallow as confusion and lust fill my brain.

“Find it?”

My hands clench and unclench, eager to touch her but patiently watching the show she’s putting on when her fingers dip beneath the fabric.

“Yeah, you like to play games, so find it.”

She knows I fucking love to play games with her. It makes me lose my load so fast and allows us to go round after round.I approach the bed, tossing the covers on the floor in search of my present. When I can’t find it, I toss the pillows on the floor in search of my gift. A giggle slips past her lips, drawing my attention back to her and she shakes her head.

“It’s not on the bed. It’s on me.”

There’s absolutely nothing between her and that see-through lingerie, so it can’t be on her. This must be part of the game. Hide and go seek except there’s nothing to find unless she wants me to undress her. When I try to get on the bed with her, her hand pushes against my chest, forcing me to stand at the edge of the bed.

“Chloe,” I whine, itching to rip that lingerie to shreds to find my Christmas present. “How can I get my present if you won’t let me touch you? You said find it.”

I try again, this time she stands, moving closer while her fingertips dust the ceiling. My hands and mouth are immediately on her flesh. She smells so fucking good, and her skin feels soft and silky. I nuzzle my face against the cut-out above her pubic bone, licking and kissing her exposed flesh while kneading her ass cheeks. She’s as excited as me by the dampness darkening the teddy between her legs. A light scent rises from her pussy, swirling into my nostrils and driving me crazy.

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