“Actually I have just the thing.” Noelle rises from the couch and I shamelessly watch her ass cheeks shake with every step into the kitchen. “You can take this off my hands.”
I can’t contain the level of excitement I feel when she procures a holiday themed gift basket full of goodies. Cherry cordials, snowballs, Christmas themed candies. And best of all, a kit for making cookies for Santa, complete with frosting supplies.
Looking forlornly at the gift basket, she tells me, “I entered a raffle at work hoping to earn an extra two days of vacation but I won this instead.”
Bypassing the treats altogether, I grab the cookie making kit from the basket and declare, “We’re making these.”
Without invitation, I march into her kitchen, open the fridge, and shout a victorious “A-ha” when I find a carton of eggs and a stick of butter to add to the mix. With all the ingredients accounted for, I start rummaging through her cabinets looking for bowls, spoons, and a baking sheet.
“It was meant to be,” I announce as I set her oven to the correct temperature to preheat. “You can’t be so anti-Christmasthat you’ll turn down fresh baked cookies.”
Rolling her eyes at my holly-jolly spirit, Noelle saunters into the little kitchen and opens the cupboard above the fridge by standing on her tiptoes which reveals a selection of baking sheets, muffin trays, and other baking essentials.
The act of reaching that high just makes the little shorts she’s wearing ride higher to show the curve of her ass. I’ve never been picky when it comes to boobs or ass, but Noelle’s is definitely making me an ass man. I’m so focused on the perfectly round upside down heart shape of her rear end that I don’t notice she’s struggling to reach the baking sheets.
“Can you grab that?” Her request brings me back to reality.
Regretfully, I move my line of sight from her sexy backside to the cabinet and stride forward to assist. “What do you do when you’re home alone and need something from up here?”
With that sass I love so much, she replies, “I have a step ladder. But what’s the point when I have a big strong man here to help me.” There’s fire in her eyes when they meet mine. Since she’s the one who made the first move, I know she wants everything I want to give her. But I’m having too much fun toying with her nerves. Edging her, if you will, at least on a tame level.
I think Noelle can handle everything I have in mind for her, but maybe I should test the waters first.
“Where’s your phone?” I ask as she pours the powdered mix into a bowl. With absolute trust, Noelle hands it over to me unlocked. If things progress the way I want them to, that kind of blind trust will have to change. At least with everyone except me.
Scrolling through her apps, I locate Spotify and pick a generic Christmas playlist that begins with “All I want for Christmas (Is you)” by Mariah Carey to get us in the Christmas spirit.
“Oh god,” my little grinch mutters not-so-subtly.
“I’m determined to change your mind about Christmas,” I declarewith a little too much enthusiasm.
“Good luck.” Another eye roll.
She’ll pay for those later.
The cookie mix is pretty straight forward, just combine the ingredients, roll the dough, and cut the shapes with the molds provided. Once the array of sugary snowflakes, Christmas trees, and Christmas ornaments are laid out on the baking sheet, they’re popped in the oven to bake while we start mixing the frosting mix with water and food coloring.
“Do you mind if I clean my scalpel in your sink?” I retrieve the tool from my backpack without waiting for her response.
Rolling her eyes at me, Noelle replies, “I’ll add that to the list of things I never thought I would be asked.”
We work in comfortable silence to the tune of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” until Noelle says, “Alright, it’s my turn to ask a question.” She speaks while scooping the thick frosting into the piping bag included in the kit. “Why didn’t you just kill me when you realized the apartment wasn’t empty? Aren’t you afraid I’ll turn you in?”
“Not in the slightest.” She pauses her work to look up at me. For someone who claims to hate Christmas, she’s been very meticulous about the cookie making process. Dare I say, she might be having fun. Maybe I can turn this grinch into a Christmas loving freak afterall. Or at the bare minimum, more tolerant. She hasn’t told me to turn the music off yet, which is a good sign.
“What makes you so sure?” As she twists off the last bag of frosting, I slink closer, leering down at the gorgeous woman standing so close I can smell her uniquely feminine scent mixing with the sugary frosting. It’s intoxicating, it alights every desire to claim her and mark her as mine.
I don’t think she’s ready for the answer yet, so I derail her train of thought back to my sole focus. “Do youstill want me to kiss you?” Though I repeat my question from earlier, her response is vastly different. Her eyelids droop with desire, the slanted shape looking from my lips to my eyes again. Her puffy lips part ever so slightly making me want to sink my cock between them. Her breathing is so labored every breath makes her ample chest rise to meet mine, and all I can think about is wrapping my mouth around those peaked nipples while she moans beneath me.
God, I want to know what she sounds like when she comes.
So I think it’s time I find out.
“Yes.” Her breathy confirmation is all the permission I need.
Scooting the icing bags out of the way in a flash, I reach for her ass so fast she barely has time to react before I draw my hands down the backs of her thighs, parting her legs so I can lift her. Her gasp releases just as I plant her on the short part of the L shaped counter.
My voice drops an octave when I say, “Good. Cause I’m dying to taste you.”
