Okay, I admit it- I am a big kid and I LOVE CHRISTMAS!! Therefore I was delighted to be invited by the smashing Smut UK team, to take part in this years Blissemas – and what better way to kick off, that to be join in the Blissemas Sunday Snog.
Don’t miss a single stop of this seasonal Sunday Snog sponsored by mimideluxe.com All the participants to today’s event, sponsored by links can be found HERE.
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So – to my blog!!!
I’ve written a lot of Christmas erotica over the years- from the short stories that appear in various anthologies, including Christmas Kink, to the seasonal chapter in my extremely kinky novella, Not Her Type…
Jenny and John, the mismatched couple that are living out all their fantasies in Not Her Type, have been on a very long erotic journey before they share Christmas Eve together, from a spontaneous romp on Jenny’s living room floor, to a gorgeously delicious van journey, the world’s fasted fuck, and a very wet bathroom adventure!!!
There is something about Christmas that gives a kinky story that extra hint of spice (cinnamon and nutmeg of course!) All those extra items to throw into the mix-including wrapping paper…
…As Jenny wrapped the Christmas gifts, she mulled over her relationship with John. It hadn’t taken long for the old pattern to return. John turned up every Tuesday, they had fantastic, quickie sex, and then he disappeared back to work, just as he always did, and Jenny would get on with her accounts. He hadn’t told her what he’d been up to during those missing weeks, and she had given up asking. In fact, the only real change was that Jenny had finally relaxed. She no longer worried about whether John would turn up or not. Tuesday would come, and he would appear.
Occasionally, John would send her a sexually charged text, like, “I want to see you with a woman again” or, “How about a foursome?”
Every time they were due to see each other, Jenny decided that that would be the day she would tell him that he was the first man who she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about—in her whole life. She vowed to tell him that she feared the lust factor had been joined by another, far more frightening, L-word. But the second they caught sight of each other, something took over. Passion, greed, desire—they all combined, and they’d fuck. Just fuck. “I mean,” Jenny addressed the sticky tape as she attempted to find the beginning of the roll, “why chat to your DVD delivery man over coffee when he could be tipping you upside down over the side of the armchair and giving your backside a proper seeing to?”
Reigning in her increasingly lurid imagination, Jenny looked down at the few remaining presents she had to wrap for the following day. She tried to divert her attention from all the things she’d rather be doing on a Tuesday afternoon by humming Christmas carols along to the radio.
The knock at her door made her jump, and Jenny physically had to restrain herself from running to see who the caller was. So what if it’s one o’clock? It’s Christmas Eve, he isn’t working, and he won’t come. It’ll be my next door neighbor with some mince pies or something. Her pulse thudded violently in her chest as Jenny moved to the door, convinced that the hope she couldn’t prevent from rising in her chest was about to leave her disappointed.
The silhouette through the glass panel in her front door was unmistakeable.
“I was just passing.” The shine in John’s deep brown eyes told her this was a blatant lie.
A wide smile crossed her face as Jenny let him in, “I thought you might be away for Christmas or something.”
“I thought you might be too.”
A feeling of awkwardness came over Jenny. Despite everything they had done together, there was nevertheless so much they didn’t know about each other. She felt almost shy as she spoke, “I was going to text, but I didn’t want to get in the way of your life or anything.”
“Same here. I thought you might be with family.” A large, rough hand raked through the back of her hair, easing out the knots, sending little currents of craving down Jenny’s neck and into her chest. Then, slipping a hand into hers, John steered Jenny toward the living room, swiftly banishing any uncertainty.
Gesturing to the middle of the floor, he said, “Last minute wrapping?”
“A few bits for the neighbour’s kids.” She could feel her pulse accelerating as he looked at her, “My family all live abroad, it’s just me in the UK.”
“That’s a big roll of paper for those little gifts.”
She wasn’t sure if it was the way he spoke or the look on his face that gave him away, but Jenny knew what was going to happen before he moved. In seconds, John had stripped her naked, and Jenny was being enveloped in large swathes of jolly, silver-star covered gift-wrap.
“Don’t move, and don’t speak, okay?”
Nodding, she tried not to laugh as John wrestled with the dispenser, before he cut off length after length of sticky tape, which he used to secure the paper tighter and tighter around her. Jenny’s arms became pinned to her sides, and her legs were clamped together as if she was some sort of bizarrely festive Egyptian mummy.
Stepping back to admire his work, John’s face creased with hunger, and Jenny’s urge to giggle dissolved. She could feel her breasts chafing against the smooth, figure hugging covering, and suddenly she realized how desperately she wanted them to be free so that John could hold them, suck them, hit them…do whatever he wanted with them.
John began hunting around the room for something. Jenny however, could only wonder how long it would be before she could suck his shaft, or feel him slide between her legs. She wanted to speak, to ask him to kiss her, but she’d promised not to talk, and didn’t want to distract him from whatever he was going to do next.
He stood so close to Jenny that his dark eyes tunnelled into hers. He peeled his clothes off at a speed that made the lightning disposal of Jenny’s garments seem positively drawn out.
Attempting to distract herself from the need to speak, Jenny traced her eyes over the line of his chest, the hairs so soft and inviting, his tattoos just begging for fresh examination, and his cock, hard and firm, pointed at Jenny accusingly, as if making its owner as horny as hell was a crime.
Shuffling her feet unsteadily on the carpet, she watched as he began to unwind the satin purple ribbon she’d spent ages draping around her Christmas tree. Her throat turned the texture of sandpaper as she comprehended the meaning behind the devious expression in John’s eyes. He brought the two-meter garland toward her.
Naked and emanating power, John began to wind the ribbon around her neck in a large bow. Picking up a pair of scissors from the floor, he cut off the remaining strip of fabric, “I started thinking about doing this last night. I even have some rolls of gift-wrap in the van. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw this lot waiting for me.”
Wide eyed, Jenny saw her film courier twist part of the ribbon around his arm, before approaching her. Again, she guessed what he was about to do, and she tensed as the first bind of the silky material went over her eyes and around the back of her neck, trapping her hair.
Mewling into the purple darkness, and deprived of the sight of his gorgeous body, Jenny felt John’s fingers fiddling with the knot behind her head. Then his hands came to her elbows. “You look incredible. Are you okay?”
She nodded awkwardly; glad he was holding her, afraid she would topple over at any moment.
“Good girl. You remembered not to talk,” John’s breath tickled her neck as he said, “You are, without doubt, the most tempting Christmas present I’ve ever seen.”
As he spoke, her breasts, already swollen with their need to be touched, became taut and hot, and pussy juice began to leak along her inner thighs.
The pressure of his palm as he pushed it against her wrapped-up mound made Jenny stagger so much that John had to steady her with this free arm. Moaning as his fingers encased and probed her enclosed clit, Jenny’s liquid flowed freer, soaking the paper, turning the crackling sound it had initially made into a wet, squelchy rustle.
“What a hot, little bad girl you are.”
Jenny felt the layers of wrapping paper between her legs start to mulch as John kneaded and pinched her flesh. Then, with a grunt of frustration, he lifted her off her feet and laid her on the floor. An urgent hand came to her right breast, kneading her tit, creasing and crumpling the gift-wrap.
Abruptly John stopped, his weight lifted from her, and a sense of bereavement consumed her body. She had no idea how she managed not to plead for more.
The purple ribbon over her eyes became darker, and Jenny realized he must have turned the lights off. Then the chirpy Christmas tunes that had been playing in the background disappeared as the radio was clicked off. Silence filled the room. Uncertainty crept through Jenny’s mind, and a drizzle of perspiration trickled between the packaging and the back of her neck. Her ears strained to pick up a sound, but she couldn’t hear anything, not even her man’s breathing.
Time seemed to pass slowly as Jenny lay like a fallen statue, painfully aware of the friction of the saturated paper as it clung to her pussy. Every part of her body ached for a continuation of the attention it had been receiving. The ribbon against her eyes felt tighter than ever, but Jenny began to wish it was between her teeth, gagging as well as blinding her, for there was no way she could stay quiet for much longer. Clamping her jaw, Jenny was determined not to break the rules, but the more she thought, the more her resolve began to crack.
“John?”…
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Well, I’d better let you go now- you are probably in a hurry to go and buy a few rolls of extra long gift wrap…
If you’d like to read about Jenny and John’s courier kink, or see what happened next on Christmas Eve, then you can buy Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man from-
Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184
Amazon.com- http://www.amazon.com/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184
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I hope you enjoy all the other Blissemas Sunday Snog blogs!
Many Christmas and happy reading!
Kay xx
Jenny, the customer who becomes the centre of every sexual fantasy her courier, John has, in Not Her Type, discovers very early on that no matter how much she looks forward to her lusty encounters with her fuck-me handsome lover- it’s rarely going to last more than five minutes!
