Holly Dolly Christmas
A couple of years back, I timed Christmas just right. I visited D.C.and had a fantastic visit with some of the most fabulous men I know, all of whom assured me that they’d been good all year and deserved a present from their favorite sexy Mrs. Santa. I love itwhen I get to wear my crimson velvet, white faux fur-trimmed strapless dress, some black thigh-highs, and black patent leather stiletto “I’m going to fuck you in half and suck you so hard and then do it all over again” bad girl heels. I had a great red manicureand pedicure, keeping with the Christmas theme. The city, whichlooks gorgeous at night all year ‘round, had the added appeal ofChristmas lights, Christmas trees, office parties …. I guess that’s why Andy Williams sang about it being the most wonderful time of the year. And he wasn’t even having Dolly Dates with great guys who were treating themselves right for the holidays and who were horny and sweet enough to consider alone-time with me to be their present to themselves. Unlike the crooner, I DO get to have those fun dates. Being the good girl or the naughty sexy girl orwhatever, I love the many intimate fantasies that I can help make cum true. And those wonderful “Christmas present” envelopes from you handsome charming men! So this Christmas-loving lady REALLY loves Christmas! I wonder what ol’ Andy Williams would have sung if I’d had the chance to use my charms on him??
The weather that visit was terrific, the streets were clear, and there was just enough early-season snow on the ground to make it look like Christmas and a few flurries in the air to make it look like a real-life snow globe. It was so very festive. Add red wine, men with skilled tongues, great service, and accommodations at my favorite upscale Washington D.C. hotel. I’ll just say there were some lobbyists and diplomats and a certain Congressman who I made sure would have a holly jolly Christmas.
Now, as much as I love a good Hallelujah Chorus from Handel’s“Messiah” or some slinky jazz from the soundtrack of “A Charlie Brown Christmas,” the flight back to Florida is always exciting,because, hey, I’m a beach girl, and winter wonderlands are placeswhere this sexy elf wants to visit, but not register her car, pay taxes, or have her mail delivered. You know, like when I’m fucking in a hot tub in Vail while the steam rises off my hard nipples into the crisp cold air—sure, it’s fun for a couple days while I play the snow bunny role, but my no-lines tan needs my hot days on the beach after a while.
I was looking forward to showing off my Christmas nails to just one last visitor, a newbie, on my final morning. This was anexception to my preferred early-flight-out-of-town policy, before jetting home and getting hot and sweaty on the beach in a bikini of wreaths and candy canes on a Miami pink background. (You just had to see this cute little thing to understand—but you had to look quickly, because it wasn’t on me for all that long other than to and from the car and then while having some fruit and sparkling water at the beachside café.) I woke up early that last day and saw an overnight email apologizing that a family health emergency hadpopped up last minute and he couldn’t keep our date. Now, I hate to be disappointed, and a late cancellation is usually grounds for summary execution, but I respected the referral source, who told me he was a regular of hers, enough to take the apology and cancellation at face value. In fact, Mr. Cancellation’s referral source had a bangin’ body and could make love to a woman like, well, only a woman who knows what it feels like to have her own pussy pleasured can. I do girl-girl only with real hotties, and,when I touched base with her to let her know about the cancellation, thought maybe she and I would hook up. I was getting wet just at the long-shot idea of that. So, when I checked, I was going to have the rest of the morning to wish she had been available to have the best 69 of my life, but alas, she was already on her own holiday. Hmmm. Dolly without a lover and time reserved for sex on my calendar. How I dislike wasted time. And not just because there are so many men and so little time. Or hot women among the worlds to conquer. I just like to make the most out of life.
So I hit the treadmill downstairs—not the best running method, but I didn’t have warmer stuff to run in for that weather, since I travel pretty light most of the time and I was already toting extra Christmas sweaters as well as the Mrs. Santa outfit. I can be the sexy MILF-type lover who is the perfectly proper lady next door,except that lucky you get to find out I can make Jenna Jamesonseem like a prude behind closed doors. So I’ve got the sweatersand some tight jeans that make my ass look awesome. I do so love starting out dressed like a soccer mom MILF, then having a strong man see my ass and having his wonderful cock invade that same ass once he lures me out of those jeans. Ah, five fast miles,followed by a quick couple of circuits on some machines they had in the hotel gym for toning purposes. After a hot shower, I was revitalized and refreshed … and still sitting around.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear but a “Merry Christmas Baby, so sorry I missed you this visit” text from a special friend who then said, “Just got home this morning on the last red-eye, trip ended early, but I’m coming home to my empty house. I know you said you would miss me but had sold out the tour anyway—still, would have been great to share a stocking stuffer with you” in his next text. My whole body was still feeling alive, stimulated, blood flowing from the workout. I love how it makes my body feel. Gyms should all have private rooms to sneak off to the side while waiting for a machine to open up, so I can give blowjobs or get oral or just get bent over a bench or chair and get some good hard doggy style and then get right back to the workout. Oh, it makes me so horny! And now my fella whom I didn’t get to see is back in town. And I’m NOT booked for the morning anymore. Yessss!
Another text from him—let’s call him Barry, shall we?—“So when will you be here again? After New Years?” I replied, “Now,Barry, its Christmas, have you been naughty or nice?” “I’ve beenkinda bad, Dolly, but not as bad as I’d be if I could be with you—so how about maybe the MLK weekend? Any chance you can visit then? I’ll be home the whole time .… ” I took a minute and double-checked my flight and my watch. It was clear—I did have the time if Barry did. Oh God, Barry, do me, do me so hard with your nice thick cock … Mmmm, I enjoy when I can fill up cancellations and not only get my pleasure but bring pleasure to someone who otherwise wasn’t on my original schedule. A surprise fuck, you know?
I rarely do outcall, but Barry and I had a fun history together, and Ihad been to his place. And he was unattached, the last I knew, with a great view of the Potomac from his bedroom—at least while I was in certain positions. Hey, what a tourism campaign! “See the monuments while riding your afternoon lover in reverse cowgirl style….” What am I supposed to do, miss that fabulous view lying on my back? It felt like my patriotic duty, appreciating the sights of our nation’s capital. While riding the cock of an elected official, my pussy gripping his as I rose and sank, up and down, my ass being tickled by his man bush, his hands reaching around from behind to my front and alternating between tweaking my nipples and twiddling my clit. And it dawned on me how pretty D.C. would look from Barry’s place during Christmas!
“How about you get naughty with me this morning—soon, like, right now?” I texted back. Then a wink. “Holy shit, Baby, did someone cancel on you? Do you have an opening I can fill? <wink>” Oh, I love when I can feel the excitement through the rapid response of a text! Typos all around, he was definitely interested in having a date with me. “You know I’ve got an opening that I love to have filled by you. Other guy’s loss, Dolly’s gain if I can get bare with Barry! Don’t let the sun go down on me. I want you to go down on me …”
Okay, I really wanted to see him. Feel him inside me. That thing he does with his mouth on the back of my neck when I do RCG on him, then his fingers playing my insides like a musical instrument while I savor the taste of his tool. “Are you staying at the usual place?” “Uh huh” “Checked out yet?” “Can do it from the TV screen in 10 seconds.” “I’ll send a car for you. 30 minutes” “Fantastic,” I texted back. What a charmer, sends a car for me. A driver with a uniform, bottled water, comfortable town car (limos draw attention, dear readers, and you know your friend Dolly is discreet!).
When I got to his place, Barry had a fire going, and there was a scent of hot cider when he opened the door for me. So what if Barry’s a little chubby, it makes him look cute in cozy winter clothes that make him look as if he grew up in the L.L. Bean Catalog. He smiled, and I walked in, shut the door, and just kissed him, not saying a word. He sucked my tongue. I made sure my mouth tasted like a candy cane, sucked one all the way over. We moaned into each other’s mouths, and I reached down and felt awonderfully hard cock through corduroy. Unzipping and feeling his cock’s warm flesh in my fingers that had been chilled by thecold air. Oh, the weather outside was frightful, but those soft looking blankets he’d tossed in front of the fire looked so delightful. “Now” was the only word I said when I broke the kiss. I could see a bit of jet lag in the corner of his eyes. And a twinkle in the rest of his eyes; it was such great luck to get to see him after all!
I started pulling his sweater over his head. His hands joined in, freeing me to unbutton his shirt underneath. Ah, yes, a Northernboy, wears a sweater but doesn't think to put on an undershirt below his button-up. Southern men always wear an undershirt. Saves me 30 seconds is the only difference. I love 'em all, so long as they have manners, grooming, a sense of fun, a desire for sex, and a willingness to submit to the concept that if they will pay attention to Dolly's sexual pleasure, it will be paid back to them about ten-fold.
Barry was finishing up getting the cuffs of his shirt unbuttoned about the time I had his corduroys and boxers down to his knees. I can do that with one hand, then it takes both hands to manage the rest of the strip and help a nice grown fella keep his balance. It’ssuch a treat to see a glistening drop of "happy-to-see-Dolly sauce" already smearing out from his six-inch hard-on that was already at attention from the kiss and the grope. Barry’s a great guy with an average-sized cock, which concerns me not one bit, as I can get a full portion of happiness from most cocks that are anywhere in the same time zone as average.
** Okay, sure, when I meet up with Chief Big Cock (wonder if one of you reading this will recognize who I reserve that mental nickname for?), there are some extra sensations to be had that a regulation, standard-issue six-incher might not bring, but generally speaking, so what? This man was sexy, based on what was between his ears, not his legs. Let that be a lesson to you, LOL! Anyway, I was really looking forward to being face-pumped full of this last minute substitute entry in the Christmas Cocks of the District of Columbia Tour. And having other things, not just my face, pumped full, too.
Stretch pants are the best for traveling—comfortable in spite of sitting in an airline seat, standing, sitting, walking. I can get them down and back up in an airport ladies room or even that teeny airplane lavatory. Since I was dressed to travel after learning about the cancellation and thinking that it was too late to book a substitute, I was bare below the waist before even getting his trousers off.
Barry still had those heather-colored warm rag wool socks on, and I left 'em on. It was a fireplace fuck, after all! Then I pulled his happy hands, which were still a little shaky since this entire interlude was unplanned and he hadn’t expected us to get together, onto my breasts. While I did a "look babe, no hands!" licking and sucking introductory tease on his wonderful cockhead, Barry and I both got my pullover top and bra off me. Sometimes, the lustful power-stripping like we'd just done is the hottest; other times, the mood is best set by a slow, seductive, not-so-fast, we're going to take our sweet time and savor this tryst strip-tease.
I love a slow strip tease best when I'm in some sexy lingerie andstockings, creating the sexy secretary, executive lady, or librarian look with heels, tailored skirt, designer blouse, and jacket. Oh hell,who am I kidding? I love the look of amazement and dream cum true on my lovers’ faces when they see me emerge in my birthday suit. It makes me know the time in the gym and out running areworking, and every girl likes to be shown that she still has that effect on a man. Anyway, by this time, I was on my knees, fingers spread, steadying his lovely licking stick, and slowly sucking that shaft into my mouth, then back out, tongue-torturing the underside of his shaft. I massaged the contoured lower tip of the head with my lips and tongue tip, as Barry slid virtually all of the way back out. I was mmmmoaning onto his cock, while his hands buried in my hair, taking over, holding my long, thick silky blonde hair between his fingers and starting to dictate the pace by face-fucking me rather than me bobbing on him.
Dragging my nails slowly along the bottom of Barry’s familiar nut sack was so luscious, as I tasted about a quarter of a spurt. I think he'd have gone ahead and totally blown his wad if I hadn't worked my "not just yet" magic as he turned his head away for a second. Maybe he thought of Phyllis Diller, maybe some Walking Dead zombie instead of me to hold off, but whatever he did to bring himself back from the edge, it worked. Then he moved his hand down from my hair so that he could use it to hold his schlong and rub his cock across my lips. The other hand moved north and started to brush and stroke, then squeeze, my nipples. "I always have such a good time with you, Baby. This is my best Christmas present," I told him. And no offense to any other wonderful guy I met on that trip. I guess the surprise of getting to have sex with a guy I'd hoped to see when I scheduled the trip, then couldn't see, and then, at the last minute, was able to get together with anyway—that was what I meant by best present. I'd reached down to twiddle my own twat, and boys, my fingers do me so well, so yes, I came my first one from my own fingers. Well, first with him, anyway. And damn, I was wet!
I pulled his fingers to my aching-to-be-poked pussy and slid his middle and ring fingers around to feel how slick and sexy I was down there. "I want you in here now, Baby!" I told him. That was a command I almost never have refused. Almost. Preppy Barry, however, has a pretty decent tongue, and he wanted to go down on me. "All good things to those who wait. First, your lover wants to taste how sexy you are, then when your hot sex is all over my face,you've broken out in a sweat, and your body stops trembling from the orgasm you're going to have in just moments, then you can feel me inside you, taking control of you, hard, fast, and deep. Do you submit to all of that, baby?" Hot damn, he was in a dirty-talking mood! "Mmmm, yes Santa. I want to be a good girl especially for you, so you can give Dolly your extra-special present right inside me. You know, I always wanted to be your favorite lover elf." Though, at 5'7", I'm way too tall to be an elf, and, on his worst day,this wonderful kinky gent was more than 100 pounds too light to be mistaken for Santa. On my back I went, Dolly already working on next year's "naughty or nice" determination.
Now ladies, listen up. Unless he's William Masters, any guy can benefit from a little help and direction when he's giving you oral. He wants the power of making you feel good, but his tongue is traveling through a place that will always be a mysterious neighborhood for him. Heck, the majority of women don't even truly understand their way around or know all the back roads and side streets. Have I exhausted the "map" analogies? Just whisper some helpful directions in a sexy voice and you'll enjoy it more, and he'll feel like King of the Jungle being attached to the tongue that was tasting your doo-dah and licking your clit when you came hard. It felt good. My fingers are the most skilled I'll ever feel,but I can't lick myself, so every guy is totally making me happy in a way I can't do for myself. So, yes, I love DATY!!
He slowed only a little when my soft "right there" was followed by an arching of my back, nail digging into his shoulders, and rapidly widening explosion of pleasure from my wet love spot outward, up my spine, down my legs, through to my puckered asshole, then down my arms after it reached my shoulders and filling my tits and hardening my nipples. Oh God, what a holiday treat!
Barry stood for a second, and then I remembered he was getting a condom. When he returned just a minute later, I'd caught my breath, and he was in slight need of a fluffer. I got up on my knees and ran my lips over the bottom skin and Main Street dick vein under his shaft, while he opened the Lifestyles wrapper. I held up a hand, helped placed it in my palm, and used a combination of my “post-coital but do me again” mouth and my fingers to cover and protect the hardware. Yes, it was hard, and I was wet, and hard and wet go together like “Merry” and “Christmas.” I laid back. "Mish?" I asked. Had I paused a second, I wouldn't have had to ask, because he was gleefully grinning as he knelt down between my spread knees and offered his cock to me. I allowed my slender fingers to position and lock onto target with expert aim.
"Really do me, Baby," I told him as I narrowed my eyes to make myself look like a wanton, cock-loving slut—which at that moment, well, yeah, that was how I was feeling. "Take me" was the last thing I said before his mouth was back on mine, only now that mouth tasted like me, like sex with me. He knew that taste was turning me on. Down below, he pushed in one big "Honey,I'm home!" initial thrust to balls deep all at once. I sucked his mouth even harder after I felt Barry’s pubic hair brush against my freshly hairless sweet spot.
I wrapped and locked my powerful legs around the backs of his legs, clutched him tightly, my arms around his shoulders, and rotated my hips. I was grinding my clit into his pubic bone, while he kissed me so deeply. We weren't thrusting yet, just re-acclimatizing our bodies to being linked in the breeding position with each other. It feels so nice when Barry holds me. I love how the passion increases with my regulars, how we get to trust each other, learn each other's rhythms and individual kinks and desires, and the anticipation of looking forward to favorite aspects of our own unique sexual chemistry. It was so wonderful to know this man was going to grow in confidence and assertiveness by being naked and sexual with me.
Barry quickly positioned my arms above my head, bending my arms at the elbow and around so that my left hand was clasped and pressed down to the floor by his left hand. My right hand waspulled around to the small of his back. As he began to rise and sink with his sexual pistoning, I pulled him in to me with that hand as well as my legs, flexing to allow his recoil, curling in to add force to his downstroke.
The tenderness vanished from Barry’s kisses. These were not timid kisses; these were hungry and aggressive, his mouth taking the pleasure it could find and serving its own needs. As his pace picked up, his body became warm. With the heat of the fire on top of that, we were quickly having a hot, sweaty fuck. His teeth started to chew into my neck and my ear. He knew just how hard he could bite without causing pain or damage. Like I said, the benefits of sexual familiarity. He was ravishing me, and he didn't ask or even tell me when he braced himself tightly against me and rotated our bodies to place me on top. He released my hand, but now took a grasp of my hair, and whispered, "Lean forward. I'm going to suck your nipples." I obeyed. He slowed his role in our coupling, deferring to me as the rider to set the pace, especially since I knew he wanted me to ride him hard and fuck him deeply. He slid a finger into the midst of our hot wet penetration and lubed it up. I knew with excitement what I'd experience next, so, when his thick finger briefly circled my bung hole and then nudged its way in while he grunted into my ear, I let go of my last traces of control and gasped and moaned right along with him.
"Take me from behind," I said through my gasps and shrieks. I loved how focused and forceful he became when he was on a Dolly date. Admit it—when you look at the L.L.Bean Catalog, the clothes you see don't suggest that the men who wear them are sexual savages. And again, Barry wasn't some fit specimen, just a regular guy with desire. Plus, when he gets busy with me, and presumably his other lady friends (I’ve read his reviews), this quiet, unassuming guy becomes a really hot lover! Which is why I don't judge men on their naked body appearances. Sexy is as sexy does, and what this man does is oh so sexy. So sexy! Which isexactly what I said when I climaxed ..."Oh God! Oh … so ....sexy...'' He never slowed down, but kept banging into me the entire time. I slumped forward, noticing just how sweaty our bodies were, slick skin on slick skin. His finger was still working my ass. "Now here," he said as he twitched the finger he'd buried in my rectum. "My bag," I said with a nod toward where I'd dropped everything. Dolly doesn't leave home without lube.
Barry handed me the lube and some wipes that I also carry. I slathered on a generous portion of lube, then wiped my hands, and positioned a pillow up under my ass. I wanted to start in mish Greek. Again, it was so hot that he was confident and knew what he was doing. He slowly, at first almost imperceptibly, began to slide into my rectum. Barry had taken me in my ass before. His hands felt strong on my legs when he held the rest of my body still, taking control while he slow-fed his dick up my back private entrance, pausing at the thick, toughened muscle ring. Then he kissed my breast and pushed just enough to start to slide farther, his hands now working my ass cheeks, pulling me open to relieve some of the internal pressure on his cock. Opening my body from the outside as well as the inside. “That’s it, Barry, fuck Santa’s wife in her hot little ass ....”
I felt pressure, full, yes, discomfort and pain, but not bad on that last quality, the “pain.” But I inhaled, and Barry slowed, paused,and let me adjust. Then, with a nod of the head, I continued the onslaught, since he knew I was telling him to keep filling me. Pulling my hair with a free hand. “Take it, Dolly, let my cock invade your sweet ass. I’m going to fuck you so good back there. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yessss … fuck me in the ass, baby. My ass is yours ….”
And soon he was in. Again, as he gave me a minute, I reached down, twiddled my clit, and plugged my own girl place with his wonderful tool. I slid back, held my breath, then exhaled. The back-slide stroke that he did as he pulled out tingled every nerve ending I have. I gritted my teeth. Our eyes were locked onto each other. Our arms and hands were all over each other. He increased his pace, and I squealed, unable to catch my breath as he filled up my senses with his ass-pumping thick cock. “Yes, hammer me, drill my ass!” I sounded like such a wanton woman, but God help me, I do love it so.
And then I was lost in the flurry of ass-fuck thrusting. I pulled my knees open wide. He was a wonderful ass fucker. “Let my ass rideyour cock. I want you to split me open.” And I pushed him up, so that Barry got the hint and laid down himself, pulling me along for the ride, as we never detached. I rode him Greek style, sort of Asian Greek style, as I was on the soles of my feet, in more control now of the up-and-down of his thick, pungent cock he was stuffing me with.
He was too far gone. The look of his face, cringing, eyes watering,as he arched his back and curled his toes. Then, the feel of his cock spasming and spurting into his condom pushed me over the edge. We cried out in unison, our hands somehow having locked and linked fingers while he took my ass and made all of my body his personal playground.
I slumped, he collapsed, and our surprise Christmas present to each other was complete. I kept my ass up in the air after his softening cock slid out, still sheathed in latex smeared with lube. I walked, somewhat awkwardly, to the master bathroom and came back with a box of tissues. I took the condom off him, wrapped it in a tissue, and, with a freshly pained and stretched, but oh so good, anus, I waddled to the bathroom and flushed some evidence. Then, Ifollowed with a quick disposable wipe and flush while running the shower water. “Can I wash your back, Mrs. Santa?” Not so naughty after all! I love when he gets all nice and gentle. “That would be lovely, Barry.”
His cock didn’t get hard enough again to fuck me while we lathered each other up. I stroked the best I could, rinsed the soap,and knelt and bobbed my head on his cock (yes, now I was getting some wet hair, but what the hell, it was going to be a mid-day flight and I would wear a baseball cap for traveling—my Cubs hat, to throw off anyone’s suspicions if they thought they recognized me. But we had fun, kissed some more, and got clean. My ass felt better after his soapy fingers massaged my hole, inside and out, and the tenderness returned to his last kiss before I stepped out of the shower.
Barry has been a great client, a wonderful lover. I honestly was screwing him for my pleasure. A warm, unexpected, spontaneous Christmas fuck in front of the fire. I told him I wanted him to visit me in Florida, and he said something about February. We kissed,and I smacked his ass just before I went back downstairs to where the car service was waiting to take me to Reagan National Airport and a return home for the holidays. It wasn’t until I was getting seated in the plane, a bit gingerly back there in coach since I’d just been ass fucked (wonder how many of my fellow passengers could make the same claim?) that I opened my carry-on to get out some headphones. And only then did I see a red Hallmark envelope. Funny thing is, the envelope didn’t just say “Dolly,” it had my whole P.O. Box address. Barry had slipped it in while I toweled off my hair. Instead of me having enjoyed a freebie with him at my discretion, he’d been really generous with his gift and had written, “I had a Holly Dolly Christmas!”