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“I’m on my way to do it now, Susie, don’t fret,” Clive answered shaking his head in mock torture.
Trey turned, seeing me in the doorway, while Susan fussed with some of the branches on the tree. He smiled, almost shyly, and came over to where I stood. His suede jacket smelled of pine and evergreen. He wrapped his strong arms around me. I wondered if he and his dad had a man-to-man talk.
“Hey you,” he greeted, “what have you been up to?”
“Just hanging out with your mom, making cookies and learning about your childhood.”
“Did you learn anything interesting?” he smiled sweetly.
“A couple of things maybe,” I answered coyly.
He lowered his head, tilting my chin upward with his fingers, finding my mouth with his. “I love you,” he breathed huskily against my lips.
“I love you, too,” I replied softly.
Trey and I spent the next couple of hours decorating the tree. Susan and Clive brought down all of the lights and ornaments, some of them made by the boys when they were in grade school.
I was particularly fond of an ornament that Trey had made in the second grade, according to Susan. It was a Christmas angel that had a wooden bead for a head and a wired Christmas tree bow was hot glued to the back for the angel’s wings. A metallic pipe cleaner formed the halo; the angel’s gown had gold and silver glitter. It was attached to wire ornament hook with a string knotted around it. I looked at the ornament a little closer. The angel’s white cotton gown flared out into something I recognized.
“Trey, is your Christmas angel made out of a…tampon?”
He looked down from the ladder, the tree-topper in his hand, and studied the angel ornament I held. Recognizing it, he gave me his crooked grin. “Yeah, a tampon,” he replied. “Some people don’t catch that.”
“Uh, it’s kind of hard to miss it,” I replied, wondering what kind of school would have second graders making Christmas angels out of tampons. As we put the finishing touches on the tree, I suggested to Trey that he bring down the presents we wrapped to arrange beneath it.
“Come help me?” he asked, playfully. I rolled my eyes and followed him up the stairs. Trey shut and locked our bedroom door, then turned to me. His expression was clear.
“Trey, your mom and dad are downstairs, the servants are up here getting rooms ready, your brothers will be here soon, and we still have to get ready.”
“I know,” he replied, “this just might be our last opportunity before late tonight. I don’t want to wait.”
“What if I tell you that you’ll have to wait?”
He cocked his head to the side. He wasn’t quite sure where I was heading with this. The truth was I wasn’t sure where I was heading with it either. It was as if something else had taken over thwarting my hormones into an excited frenzy. I wanted him to role-play with me. I was curious to see if he would. I stared at him, my hands on my hips, feigning a rebellious attitude. His eyes traveled over me, a flicker of comprehension passed over his face, his lips showed a trace of a smile.
“Tylar,” he said, his voice suddenly taking on a hard and authoritative edge, “you’re not leaving this room until I've fucked you, do you understand? Now you've 30 seconds to get your ass naked and in that bed, ready to take my cock whatever way I choose.”
I stumbled backward, my hands reaching behind me for the edge of the bed as his eyes burned into me. My fingers pulled my sweater up and over. I sat down on the edge of the bed, taking off my boots and socks. I unfastened my jeans, pulling them down to my ankles, shaking my feet out of them. I was still in my bra and panties.
“I saideverything,Tylar. You’re not naked yet,” his voice was steely.
I reached up, unfastening my bra, letting it fall from me onto the bed. I tossed it off of the bed onto the floor. I lifted my backside up, pulling my panties down to my ankles.
“That’s far enough,” Trey said, sharply. “I want the panties left around your ankles. Lay back,” he ordered.
I did as I was told, my head resting against the double row of pillows. I had view full of Trey and watched him steadily, not sure of his next move. He approached the bed, unbuckling his leather belt and pulled it from the belt loops. He lowered himself down onto the bed on one knee reaching over and wrapping the belt around my ankles. He doubled it over, and then buckled it to keep my ankles together. The silk panties were still around my ankles, protecting my skin from the leather belt. My eyes widened as Trey bound my ankles. He then lifted himself off of the bed and assertively removed his clothes. He eyes were burning with passion and punishment. I tingled with some primal fear as he moved with panther-like grace back to the bed, putting both knees on it and crawling to where I was.
“Now,” he said, firmly, “I’m going to fuck you and I’m going to come. I haven’t decided yet as to whether I’m going to permit you to come. You're not to come unless I give you express verbal permission, is that understood?”
I nodded, afraid to speak.
He reached inside his fly, moving his boxers aside allowing his large, thick erection to spring free. He was on his knees, spreading his muscular thighs wide; he straddled my shoulders, lowering his erection toward my face.
“Put your hands around it, Tylar,” he instructed firmly. I obeyed. “That’s right, now I want you to take it all into your mouth.”
I guided his member into my mouth, flicking my tongue around the crown, swirling it up and down his full length. I sheathed my teeth, and took it fully into my mouth, planting my hands on his jeans covered hips, moving him in and out of me. I sucked and licked him thoroughly, tasting the salty clear pre-orgasmic bead that gathered at the tip.
“Does it taste good, Tylar?”
