12 Days of BDSM Christmas 2017 – #7: O Holy Night

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The words caught in my throat as you began to slide the strap of your simple yet elegant black dress down your lightly tanned shoulder. We should not be doing this, I thought, standing in the hallway, but your eyes looked to mine in defiance. Something about them said I would do what I want.

 

I was hesitant though. For both of us. After all, we were both guests at your parents’ place and you…your boyfriend was below the bathroom window, sharing a cigar with your father. How could I betray your family? Your boyfriend?

 

We had heard the rumours. All of us had. The stories about him, the way he’d flirt with other women. Had he cheated yet? Did you know? Is that why you’re here before me, one strap hanging on the curve of your shoulder?

 

Two wrongs don’t make a right. Who taught us that? Parents? Teachers? In what circumstance does that saying come up? Probably more often than not.

 

Yet you stood in the bathroom doorway, the stripe of your dyed-pink hair covering your right eye – your ice blue eyes, which looked to me with a glint of playfulness.

 

I shouldn’t have stepped through that door. I should’ve smiled, thought up a polite response, but something pulled me into the bathroom, something that felt beyond my control.

 

You backed up, eyes still focused on me, hands focused on your dress. Your right hand curled under the strap still on your shoulder and slid it down, while you wriggled a little to let the dress fall down. You laughed as you did so. Hell, we both laughed softly in that moment. It was such a cute moment that came out of nowhere, how could you not?

 

When you stood before me in your black strapless bra and black lacy panties, the words caught in my throat again. I had to catch myself from falling to my knees. An absurd image of a man falling to his knees and praying, worshipping came to me in that moment, and being no stranger to absurd images – this seemingly dream-like one being one of them – I let it go.

 

I cannot recall the exact moment I knew I had feelings for you. I suppose it wasn’t something that struck me waking up, it was a gradual thing, something that came to me the more we spoke, the more we reconnected after our lives took a detour from each other.

 

Had you not been leaving the bathroom while I was entering to wash my hands from Christmas dinner – and to check my phone, of course – guilty as charged, maybe we might never had stood there, facing each other as we did now.

 

Were you as nervous as I was to stand there? If you were, I couldn’t see it on your face. You hid it well as you slid your bra off, letting it topple to the floor. As I saw it there, resting in a heap, I felt a stab of panic. What if someone comes here, what if our absence is noted, and you have to dress suddenly?

 

You must’ve seen the panic in my eyes then, for you stepped forward. When you did, I refocused, anxiety leaving my body. I saw you, shirtless. The idea seemed abstract. How was this even possible, I thought, after all these years? Why? How? Is this a cruel prank?

 

When I lost my footing and fell to my knees, you giggled softly. Suddenly I was face to face with your breasts. You were smaller than me, I remembered. 5 foot 3. Of course.

 

I wish I could describe the feelings I had seeing you, not just your breasts you understand, but you. Hopefully this little note to you helps. I’m not sure how much help it will be, but it’s got to be worth something right?

 

I hope I didn’t stare too long. Watching you, I felt like time disappeared, as if the space of the bathroom was outside time and everything stopped as I looked upon you, upon your lightly pink areola and hardening nipples.

 

Your eyes never left mine, even when I knelt. I looked up as you pulled me in, your soft hands tugging at the back of my head gently, and felt dizzy, as if I was on the outside of my body looking at the two of us in that quiet bathroom.

 

I would’ve stood but my legs were weak, I felt frozen in place, in awe as I looked upon you. You just stood watching me as you wriggled again, your hands moving away from my head and seeing to something out of my view.

 

A moment later, you raised your left hand, your crumpled panties in your index finger. With the realisation you were now nude, it’s as if my senses kicked in, absolute. My cock, which couldn’t possibly grow harder, seemed to strain, seemed to ache, with its length. It needed to be free, but that would come later. I had to look upon you.

 

You were trimmed, I had noticed. I thumbed my way across your skin, lightly touching out to your dark pubic hair. You giggled shyly.

 

I didn’t plan what happened next. Yet I found myself lowering my mouth across your bare skin, planting soft and gentle wet kisses, leaving behind a trail of kisses as I moved down to between your legs.

 

I worshipped you then, as I had wanted to for quite some time. Hungrily, tenderly. Savouring every moment, every taste, and every soft sigh from your lips above.

The lips of my goddess.

3 thoughts on “12 Days of BDSM Christmas 2017 – #7: O Holy Night

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