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I smile as he rolls back and moves off the bed. He gives me a look I’ve never seen before. Filson can smirk, scoff, shirk. But smile sheepishly?
“I like it when you smile,” I tell him as he unhooks his belt, sliding it from his jeans with excruciating slowness.
“Yeah?” He shakes his head, blushing. Another thing I didn’t know he could do.
“Yeah,” I answer, getting off the bed. “And I think I like it when you blush even more.”
“You can see me blushing through the beard?”
“There’s a hint of pink on the top of your cheeks.” I lick my lips. “I wonder if I can make you blush even more.”
He clenches his jaw. “What did you have in mind, Maple?”
I pull off my graphic tee-shirt. I’m wearing a bra that pushes my breasts high and together. Then, without looking his way, I slip off my leggings.
He groans, stepping toward me. I search his eyes. He seems to love what he sees. “Of course, your bra and panties are red and white striped. A goddamn candy cane.”
“Wanna lick, Filson Barre?”
He laughs then, giving me a full-on grin that warms my heart and wets my pussy. Twenty-five days ’til Christmas and I already have my present right in front of me.
“I want more than a lick,” he tells me, leaning down and kissing the tops of my breasts. The feeling is euphoric, and he teases down the cup of the bra, my nipple exposed, hard and his. His tongue swirls around it, sending a fresh wave of desire through me.
“Now I need to see your skin, Filson.”
He nods, tugging off his shirt, his ladder of abs so delicious I find myself licking my lips. He takes off his pants; his erection is obvious and thrilling. He is that hard for me. Me. A girl who has always played it safe, always done the right thing, the expected thing — and now I am doing the thing that feels good too.
“You’re so handsome, Filson,” I tell him, my hands running over his chest. “I can’t believe you’re actually in my room.”
“You have no idea, Maple,” he says. The snow is swirling outside the window, while the afternoon sky is turning gray, the light hidden. In the growing darkness, our need overtakes our words. We’ve both waited for this for so many years, unknowingly saving ourselves for this moment. And now it’s here.
I’m ready.
Filson is too. He slides my panties past my hips and I ease his boxers down. Unclasping my bra, I toss it aside. We’re both naked, vulnerable, and fully aware of how very real this is.
Wordlessly, he draws me back to my bed, lowering me against the pillows. I look him over; his cock at attention, thick and hard and so much bigger than I imagined. My core warms at the thought of him filling me, opening me up and making me his.
Turned on barely captures it. I want him so badly that I feel like I could burst before any penetration has even begun.
His hands move over me, gently caressing my breasts as his mouth finds mine. Our lips savoring the kiss, our bodies pushing closer together as we lie on our sides. We’re wrapped up in one another, literally. My legs tighten around him and my pussy is ready to be touched.
His cock is ready too. I feel it against my belly, and I run my hand over the thick, velvety length. He groans as I do and it makes me want him more, faster, everything.
Twenty-five years is a long time to wait. But we aren’t waiting anymore.
He begins to touch me with more fervor, and I match his movements, wanting him so badly. I kiss him more firmly and his hand is between my legs making my pussy so wet. I know he loves it because as he begins to run his finger over my slit, warm air hits my ear, sending a thousand bursts of desire through my body. “God, you’re so tight, Maple.”
I’m sure he has played this out in his mind — the night he loses his virginity — and a swell of pride fills me as I consider being his first. The only person to ever touch Filson like this.
I want to be the last.
I spread my knees as his mouth lowers to my pussy, and I moan as his beard tickles my inner thighs while his tongue runs over my wet folds. I run my hands through his hair, relishing this, wanting it to last all day and all night. He kisses me gently, his tongue exposing all the parts of me I tried to take care of with a vibrator. I constantly failed. Because getting off to the idea of Filson is so different than being taken care of by the man in the flesh.
