While one fist gathers the discarded fabric, I use the other to grasp my cock in a punishing chokehold. Air hisses from behind my clenched teeth. There’s already a throb pulsing through my shaft, demanding more. The intensity of my arousal is almost concerning. I’ve been depriving myself. That won’t be a problem anymore. The box is open and my thoughts run wild.
As I blindly reach for the lube in the nightstand drawer, I’m picturing Frankie astride her beloved mount. Only a black lace bra and matching thong conceal her. The bombshell’s thighs are straddled wide over the saddle. It’s obscene how far her legs are stretched apart. She moans and tosses her head, spilling silky hair down her delicate curves. A cluck of her tongue instructs the beast beneath her to move.
“That’s it, menace. Go faster,” I command.
With a squirt of lube in my palm, I grip my cock at the base. The first stroke is an electric spark zapping through my veins. I bow forward from the force while spots dance in my vision.
“Shit,” I curse. “Gonna make me blow in three pumps.”
Frankie smirks from the depravity of my imagination. My hand slides along my dick as I picture her beginning to trot. Her breasts sway from the jerky motion, spurring me to jerk faster. I’m thrusting into my fist while she turns to give me a peek at herass. The supple flesh jiggles as if I’m spanking her. That sends a fresh wave of heat to fondle me.
“Such a tease,” I croak and beat myself harder.
That’s another lie. I have no doubt that Frankie would be on the bed with her legs splayed if I allowed it. But I won’t be an empty fuck for her. If we cross that boundary, she’ll be mine whether her commitment issues can handle it immediately or not.
“If I can’t have you, nobody else can.”
The threat spews from me while I tighten my grip. My muscles contract from the slick friction. An ache expands from my groin, demanding more. My palm glides up and down as I envision Frankie bouncing on my lap. Fuck the saddle. She’s riding me from now on.
“Yes,” I whimper.
The sound is embarrassing, even in the privacy of my own bedroom. It doesn’t stop me. Pressure builds and spreads until it’s shooting out. I barely manage to get the crumpled boxers over my tip before I’m erupting.
The pleasure is blinding to the point where I lose my footing and stagger. I’m suspended in its clutches while the lust pours out of me. My hips buck along to the spurts of release. On the fourth, I’m drained dry. Relief expels from me in a labored breath.
And then I’m collapsing onto the mattress. A lazy smirk displays the contentment thrumming through me. It takes less than five seconds for me to pass out, fading into a warped Christmas miracle where Frankie could actually be mine.
“Gonna fight these gumdrops,” I mutter under my breath. To further antagonize me, one of the sugary blobs slides off the gingerbread roof. It takes several marshmallows along for the fall. “Icing is a poor substitute for glue. It’s not like I’m going to eat this. Just getting sticky for nothing.”
Gruff laughter mocks my frustration. “What’s got your tit in a twist, menace?”
I widen my eyes at the usually G-rated father, but then realize Ronnie is missing in action. That allows me to slouch in my chair for a quick reprieve. “Hush over there. You’re not even trying.”
“Creativity is your wheelhouse.” He nods in the direction of his boots in the entryway.
“Never gonna live that down.”
He shakes his head. “Which is why I’m allowing you to put in enough effort for both of us.”
“Jeez, that’s almost considerate. Excuse me for caring.”
“Ronnie will appreciate it.” That’s his trusty escape clause.
“This is my first gingerbread house. It needs to be perfect.” The pressure is on, blazing a path between my shoulder blades.
“That’s a mansion,” he corrects.
“Thanks for noticing.”
“You didn’t have to make it so big.”
“Is someone jealous?” I stick out my bottom lip, deciding to use this opportunity to secure my position on the naughty list. “Does it bother you that I’m erecting such a large structure in your presence?”
Byron scrubs a palm over his mouth. “Brat.”
“Mhmm,” I purr. “These piles of candy get me hot. Whoops, what happened here?”
The grump watches in rapt fascination as I pick up a piece of licorice. I pinch it between two fingers, inspecting the shape closely. It flops like a limp dick when I give it a wiggle.