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“Like this?” I ask, smoothing my hand over her ass.
“Oh, yes,” she moans and spreads her legs.
Ripping open my pants, I pull her pants down with a jerk and line my cock up with her soaking entrance. I’m teasing her by sliding the head of my cock along her slit.
“Fuck you here?” I circle the head of my cock at her entrance and Ayaka wiggles her ass, trying to make me slip in.
“Yes, Harry. Fuck me deep. Fuck me like I’m yours.”
Chapter 9: Ayaka
It’sChristmasday,andI lay in Ayaka’s bed feeling amazing. A smile pulls at my mouth as I think about how I got to wake up Ayaka this morning by licking her into an orgasm.
Ayaka has since gotten up but I fell asleep last night after she sucked my cock. I wasn’t expecting that, but I enjoyed every second of it.
I look over at the clock and see that it’s nine in the morning. Typically, I’m up by six and Ayaka by five. I managed to convince her to stay in bed for a while longer this morning. My guess is right after I fell asleep again, she got up.
I rub my eyes and head to the bathroom. After doing my business and brushing my teeth, I pick up a pair of gray sweatpants and head out into the living room.
I find Ayaka holding mistletoe over her head and wearing nothing but a pair of red panties and matching red bra.
“Um, what’s this?” I ask, my dick instantly hard.
“Well, I kind of felt bad for crushing the other mistletoe. So, I bought one, hoping for a second chance.”
I rush over to her, lean down, and kiss her. I cup her ass and she grinds against my cock. Before things get out of hand she pulls back and smirks.
“That was your first Christmas gift,” she says and pulls on a red silk robe, tying it around her waist, hiding her delicious body.
“Um, what?” I say, confused.
“Too early, I guess?” she says and gives me a cup of hot coffee. “A kiss under the mistletoe is your first present. If you’re a good boy, maybe Santa will let you kiss me in other places.” She winks.
Fuck, I’m in love.
As soon as I was able to get my dick down long enough to walk to the little dining room we had breakfast.
She made pancakes and eggs. When Ayaka sees me pour maple syrup over both the pancakes and the eggs, she looks at me quizzically.
“What? I’m Canadian. We put it on anything.”
“Yeah, I thought that was a stereotype,” she says.
“To some, maybe. Not to me. I put it on almost everything. It’s like you putting soy sauce over everything.”
“It’s a very versatile condiment,” she pouts.
“So is Maple Syrup. If you like things sweet.”
“And you like things very sweet.” She smirks, and I grin back.
“Yes, super sweet.” I take a fork full of eggs and bring it to Ayakas’ lips.
She takes the bite and covers her mouth while she chews.
Then her eyes light up and she smiles, so much her eyes squint and it looks like her eyes are closed. I always thought it was cute when she smiled like that. I’ve seen it more these last couple of weeks than in the entire time I’ve known her.
“Like it?”
