The fifth polite conversation about the weather breaks me. Leaning over my best friend and fuckbuddy Tony to pour him some more tea, I make sure he gets an eyeful of my cleavage as I whisper in his ear, “Kitchen, now!” Just to make sure he gets the point, I jostle him so his tea spills down his shirt. Now we have an excuse to go clean him up.
“What’s so urgent?” he asks, as soon as we’re alone.
“I’m tired of mince pies and trying to remember your cousins’ names and playing charades and wearing a reindeer sweater and being festive. I need you to fuck the Christmas right out of me,” I tell him, pushing him up against the wall and standing on tiptoe to brush my lips against his. I feel his cock stir in his pants immediately. I know he’s feeling just as pent-up and horny as me.
“Or I guess I could just go for a run…” I tease him.
“Not a chance,” he growls, grabbing my ass to pull me tight against him. “Finish what you’ve started.”
We’re at his auntie’s house (I think; we’re spending the holidays in his home town, and we’ve visited so many of his relatives that I’ve lost track) so we have to be quick, and stealthy. Luckily there’s a utility room off the kitchen, so we sneak in there, propping a chair under the door handle just in case someone comes looking for us.
The whole point of quickie sex is that it’s fast and dirty. It takes Tony all of three seconds to pull off his stained shirt, shove his jeans and shorts down to his knees, flip my dress up to my waist and tug my panties aside so he can rub the head of his cock against my pussy. With the help of his spit-lubed fingers easing the way, I’m just about wet enough for him to slide the first inch inside me. It feels way too tight like this; but also amazing.
He spins me around and presses me face first against the wall, my feet as far apart as the panties around my thighs will allow. Now I have something to brace myself against as he slides into me, shallow thrusts at first, going deeper as my pussy gradually opens up to let him in. His hand covers my mouth as I start to moan. His cock feels huge in this position, filling me entirely, setting every nerve alight. When he’s sheathed in me to the hilt, he holds still, face nuzzled into the crook of my neck to muffle his own groans.
It feels so good we’re both afraid to move, frozen in place, the flutters and spasms of my sugar walls around his cock so intense. I can feel every twitch and pulse of his dick like it’s magnified by our silence and stillness. Slowly, so slowly, he slides a hand between my hip and the wall, seeking out my clit. When his finger alights on the perfect spot, the trigger point he knows so well, he tightens his grip on my mouth so I can’t yell.
My world explodes as several things seem to happen simultaneously. He pulls out a little way and slams back in, hard; he bites my neck, just sharply enough to sting; he presses down on my clit; and I feel his cock jerk crazily inside my cunt and start to spurt as the fierce contractions of my orgasm make me clutch tightly around his girth. Each hot gush of his cum sets off another shivering spasm inside me, over and over, until finally we are still.
And sticky.
Clean-up is silent and frantic. I can’t meet his eye, because if I do I know we’ll start giggling, and we won’t be able to stop, and then everyone will know exactly what we’ve been up to.
We go back into the kitchen and rinse the tea off his shirt as best we can, blotting it with paper towels. His auntie comes in just as he’s buttoning it up.
“Shall we have some mince pies while we watch the Strictly Christmas special?” she asks.
“Why not,” I say, biting my lip to distract myself from the hot imprint Tony’s cock has left inside my throbbing pussy. “I’m suddenly feeling quite festive…”
More confessions from me here — if you think you can handle it! Maybe have a cold shower first…
