Advent Calendar (An Erotic / Erotica Paranormal Tale) Read Free Page A

and
puffy. She had a true blonde's coloring, and I judged that Miss
Clairol only gave her natural hues a shine, although I wouldn't
know that for sure until I had her panties down. Her hand went for
my crotch, but I grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm behind her and
kissing her toward my room. Whether it was the beer or the cold, my
dick wasn't responding quite fully yet, and nothing killed things
quicker than a girl who thought you couldn't get it up for her. No
matter what you said, they made it all about them.
    Her knees nearly buckled
as I tongue-kissed her with both her hands behind her back, but she
caught the shuffling backwards rhythm until I had her pressed
against my bedroom door. I stopped there to enjoy the exposure of
her breasts, the way her skirt was starting to ride up her thighs
as she tried to press a knee up between my legs. Girls always forget about the testicles. I turned slightly, shifting so that my leg was
pressed up towards the heat of her crotch, which is what she really
wanted anyway, from the sound of her gasping as she rode it like
one of the mechanical horses at the Toys R Us entrance, her skirt
getting damper by the minute. Damn, this
girl is hot!
    I turned the doorknob, making sure I had her
by the small of the back so we wouldn't spill onto the floor. We
stumbled anyway, all the way to the bed, the height of the mattress
forcing her to sit. She fumbled at my belt buckle in the dimness,
and I pressed her away, unbuckling and starting to slip my belt out
the loops.
    "Mmmm, it smells good in here!"
    I cocked my head, my belt
hanging. I did smell something. It was weird how you got used to
your own smells, and you never noticed it until someone else said
something. "Vanilla!" She identified it— yep, that’s it alright. I wondered
if Tyler's girlfriend had decided to force him into cookie-making
or something this afternoon. The blonde's hand was tugging on my
belt again, and I let her slip it the rest of the way out while I
unsnapped and unzipped.
    She leaned back on her
elbows, watching me, her breasts flattening around the sides a
little the way the larger ones do. She propped her stocking feet up
on the bed— where the hell are her
shoes?— and opened her thighs. In the light
from the hallway, I could see the tops of her thigh-high stockings
and, to my surprise, blonde fuzz. No panties in sight.
    "You are a very bad girl." I smiled.
    "They're in your jacket pocket," she purred,
opening her thighs wider. "I took them off in the bathroom and
thought, if you didn't take me home, at least I'd leave you a
reminder." I realized I was still wearing my jacket. I reached in
and felt dampness. Sure enough, there was a black pair of panties.
I lifted them to my nose. She smelled incredible, strong, the way
girls do when they still have pussy hair.
    I had a sudden memory of
Betsy's black panties shoved into her mouth, and my cock
twitched. Goddamnit, man, you've got a
half naked woman in front of you. Isn't that enough? I tried again to reason with him. Apparently not,
because it was Betsy's ass I was picturing when I turned the blonde
over and pushed her skirt up. It was Betsy's bald pussy I was
missing when I starting eating her from behind like that, spreading
her lips wide so that all I had in my mouth was smooth flesh. And
it was the memory of Betsy that made my cock so uncomfortably stiff
in my jeans that I had to slide them off.
    She moaned and arched her
back, spreading her lips for me herself now. I reached underneath
her for those massive tits, swaying beneath her as she rocked,
fastening my fingers onto her nipples and rolling them. She gasped
and cried out, calling "Yes, ohhhhhhh I love that!" So I noticed. Her pussy
was weeping with juice and saliva and the tops of her stockings
were getting soaked with it. My tongue had been lapping long and
strong enough now that I was getting that numb-jawed feeling, the
one past the ache, where I knew however long she took to come, it
didn't matter,