I came home to my apartment, mentally prepared to finally set up my Christmas decorations, as I entered it was already transformed into a festive wonderland, and in the centre of it all was Nikki, completely naked, wearing only a Santa hat tipped to the side over her blonde locks.
She leaned against the fireplace, one leg crossed over the other, her bare toes curling into the plush rug beneath her. The dim glow of twinkling fairy lights caught the curve of her hip, casting a warm halo around her body. "Surprise," she murmured, her lips quirking into that smug little smile that always made my stomach tighten.
I was still standing there like an idiot, my keys dangling from frozen fingers, when she lunged forward—quick as a cat—and grabbed my wrist. The suddenness of it sent my pulse skyrocketing. One second I was gaping at her, the next I was stumbling backward, landing hard on the couch with a muffled grunt. The cushions swallowed me up, leaving me half-dazed as she jumped onto my lap, her thighs bracketing mine. The Santa hat slipped further askew, her blonde hair tumbling loose around her shoulders.
“Ready for your early Christmas present?” She said as she started to unbuckle my belt.
Her fingers were deft, practiced—almost too quick—and the leather slid free with a whisper of friction. The belt clinked against itself as she tugged it loose, her breath warm against my throat. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla clung to her skin, mixing with the pine from the tree behind us, and for a dizzying second, I forgot how to speak. Her knee pressed into the couch beside my thigh, shifting her weight just enough that I could feel the heat of her against my jeans.
I fumbled with the button, my knuckles brushing the softness of her stomach, and she laughed—low, throaty—before swatting my hands away. "Hopeless," she teased, but there was no malice in it, just that same playful hunger that had me throbbing against the zipper before she'd even gotten it down. The denim peeled open like a gift, and then—Christ—her fingers curled around me, squeezing just once, testing. My hips jerked without permission, and she bit her lip, watching the way my cock twitched in her grip.
She shifted, rising slightly—just enough—before sinking down onto me in one slow, slick slide that punched the air from my lungs. The stretch made her gasp, her thighs trembling where they cradled my hips, and for a second, we both just...stopped. Her head tipped back, exposing the delicate line of her throat, and I could see the flutter of her pulse beneath her skin. The warmth of her was overwhelming, the way her body clung to me, tight and wet and perfect.
"I missed..." Her breath hitched as she rocked forward, her fingers digging into my shoulders. "Your… thickness babe."
The words sent a jolt through me, and I groaned, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks. The fairy lights blurred above us, streaks of gold against the dark. Every slight movement—the roll of her pelvis, the way her nails scraped down my chest—felt magnified, electric. She grinned down at me, breathless, her cheeks flushed pink like she'd been running in the snow. The Santa hats pompom bounced slightly as she started to move.
Her rhythm was slow at first, deliberate, dragging herself up until only the head of me remained inside before sinking back down with a shuddering sigh. The wet sounds between us were obscenely loud—or maybe that was just the blood roaring in my ears. The tree beside us swayed slightly, ornaments clinking together in time with her movements.
Nikki’s fingers traced idle patterns on my chest, her touch feather-light, but her grip on my shoulder was anything but gentle. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against me, her breath hot against my lips before she kissed me, messy and open. The taste of peppermint lingered on her tongue—had she been sucking on a candy cane earlier?—and it mixed with the salt of sweat along her collarbone when I dragged my mouth down her throat.
Her pace quickened, sharp little gasps escaping her lips as she lifted herself higher, then dropped back down with a force that made the couch groan beneath us. Each thrust sent the Santa hat trembling, the white fur of its pompom bouncing wildly. Something in her movements hitched—urgent, almost clumsy—and I knew she was chasing it, that razor’s edge between control and abandon.
"God, yes—" Nikki’s voice cracked, her fingers knotting in my hair as she ground against me, her hips circling in tight, desperate little motions. The fairy lights overhead flickered, or maybe it was just my vision blurring. Her breath came in ragged bursts against my ear, her teeth scraping my lobe as she whispered, "Oh babe, give it to me, show me your Christmas Spirit!"
A high, broken sound escaped her throat as she came, her back arching like a bowstring drawn too taut, her nails raking down my chest. The sensation dragged me right to the edge with her; I barely had time to choke out her name before I was spilling deep inside her, my vision whiting out for one dizzying second. She collapsed against me, her skin slick with sweat, her breath hot and ragged against my collarbone.
The living room was silent except for the quiet crackle of the fireplace and the soft rustle of the tree’s branches as they settled. The fairy lights cast a warm, uneven glow over Nikki’s flushed skin, catching the sheen of sweat along her spine as she shuddered against me. The Santa hat had finally settled, and her blonde hair stuck to her forehead in damp curls. I traced a lazy circle on her hip, my fingertips sliding through the sticky mess between us, and she made a soft, contented noise against my shoulder.
I couldn’t wait to see her plans for Christmas Day.
