“Be creative,” he said. She was pouting when he’d left. She certainly wasn’t pouting when he got home. She desperately wanted a Christmas tree. He told her there wasn’t room for one in their dinky little apartment. “Be creative.”
A smile curled his lips the way those white twinkling lights curled around her perfect, pale ass, twined around her waist and trailed down her thigh. She turned her head when she heard him enter the room, but not enough that he could see her beautiful face. It was hidden behind waves of chocolate brown hair, but he could hear her smile when she spoke. “Merry Christmas.
His eyes dropped lower. He could see her perfectly pink pussy between her spread thighs. He stepped to the edge of the bed, already hard, and unbuckled his pants. He watched her hand move as she leaned forward, heard her gasp as her fingers slid over her swollen clit.
“Our tree looks bare,” he said.
“Decorate it,” she replied.
His hand stroked slowly over his cock, tightening as he slid over the head. He groaned, remembering how she’d felt this morning before he’d left for work, before their silly argument when she’d rode him until he came so hard he’d forgotten where he was. He watched her hips roll, the lights flickering against her ivory skin like fireflies, her hair slipping over her shoulder as she whispered his name. Finally, her perfect face. His hand moved faster, harder tighter as he chased her orgasm. Her head fell back as she came and he followed, streams of pearly white cum decorating her ass like tinsel.
