I groaned loudly and reached down to cup my own nuts. “That won’t be all I’m licking when I get the chance.”
“Will you suck my cock?” Felix asked, swallowing audibly after he spoke.
“Like it’s a fucking lollipop.”
“Th-this is better than last time,” he managed to say.
Imagine that—when we’re both being who we really are.
I gave my cock a long, slow tug. It jutted up straight, head smearing precum into the blankets. I let myself briefly fantasize about getting to fuck Felix. I wasn’t so sure how cool he was going to be about me seeing him naked, but with the desperate little mewls of pleasure he was making over the phone, I couldn’t imagine that after… what, at least seven years of riding solo, the man had much patience left to care.
“You know what I’m gonna do to you?” I asked. “First chance I get. Watch you take my entire cock down your throat. I bet you can do it, too. Say ‘yes, I want to choke on your cock.’”
“Bo—” Felix cried out.
“Say it,” I instructed.
“God, yes!Yes, I want to suck your cock! I want it down my throat!”
Listening to Felix unravel, reciting filthy words with absolute desperation, made my balls draw up and my hips thrust upward.
“Grab your cock.”
“Yes,” Felix moaned.
“Beat yourself off. Think about me shoving every inch of myself into your tight, tight ass.”
And he fucking lost it.
Unfortunately, I only got a bit of a scream out of Felix before he clamped a hand over his mouth. But it was enough to get me to my own orgasm. I came hard, splattering my stomach and blankets.
“That was amazing,” Felix whispered after so long, I thought he might have just fallen asleep.
“You’reamazing.” I pulled my hand free. “And I’m gross now.”
Felix chuckled, sounding ready to indeed pass out. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good night, darling.”
Chapter Eight
16 Days Until Christmas
SATURDAY WASa blue-sky, sun-shining, picture-perfect day.
It was also five degrees.
Typical.
I shoved my inhaler into my coat pocket, pulled a black beanie down over my head, and finally forced my skinny ass out of the car. Despite the inhuman temperature, there were a fair number of cars parked in the cozy lot outside of Snowy Ridge’s café and gift shop, with people coming and going in all directions. I hurried up the steps and went into the storefront.
The place was bustling with a combination of winter tourists and locals. The cash register dinged with sale after sale, the café had full tables and bar, with more people waiting to make a purchase, and folks chatted with employees over the play of holiday tunes.
“Back again, are we?”
I spun to the right, and there was Auntie Dolly and her poofy white head, smiling up at me. “Hello again.”
“My name’s Phyllis,” she said, offering a tiny hand.
