A Very Nellie Christmas

I was barely aware of my surroundings when J.P.'s hands moved to my hips. He grabbed them and guided my body up and down, his eyes glazed with longing when I finally reopened mine and looked into them.

"Let me suck your cock again," I said.

"Oh fuck yes," he gasped.

I moved off his lap unsteadily, wedging myself between the bench and the front of the sleigh. As soon as I had, I took his cock back in my mouth, tasting the slickness of my own juices as I began to bob my head.

The bells jingled and J.P. grabbed my head, guiding it faster on his lap as he took his turn to be selfish. My eyes watered as he shoved his cock in my throat, grinding his body against my face.

"Coming," he grunted after a few more thrusts, and then he was panting as his cock swelled against my tongue.

I barely tasted him, his cock was buried so far in my mouth. I felt each spasm of his cock as he finished, heard each soft, satisfied moan as he flooded my throat with cum. As soon as he was done, he let go of my head, his hand finding my cheek and guiding my chin up as I wiped the saliva from around my mouth.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"How many times do we have to do this before you stop apologizing?" I replied, laughing.

"All of them," he said. "I love how it feels but—"

"So do I," I said frankly. "Feeling you lose your mind like that is fucking hot, J.P. Get over it."

He laughed, startled, and pulled me onto the soft bench beside him.

We sat there for just long enough to catch our breaths before getting out of the sleigh. J.P. changed back into his suit and I sadly took my elf costume off.

"We should probably take these home to wash," I said thoughtfully as I folded it.

"I guess that would make sense," he replied.

"I mean, it seems unfair that someone has to clean all your sweaty B.O. out of it." I crossed the room, taking the jacket from him.

"Yeah, and the pants might be a little sticky because this chick I know couldn't wait until I got home to rock around my Christmas tree."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"

He grinned, grabbing me by the waist and kissing me heatedly.

"Never, babe."

**

J.P. yawned as we walked into my apartment.

"Maybe it's too late for gifts," he said, stretching as the door closed behind him. "We could wait until you get back from your mom's."

I didn't say anything, just turned to him with an expression of astounded betrayal on my face. He started laughing.

"I'm kidding, babe."

"You would make me wait to open presents?" I said.

"Now that I know it means so much to you..." He reached for me but I pulled myself away from his grasp.

"I can't believe you. And you say I'm on the naughty list."

"You are on the naughty list. You just gave Santa a blowjob in his sleigh at an office Christmas party. It doesn't get much naughtier."

"You're right," I said. "I'll never do it again."

"Well, wait a second, that might be overreacting..."

I stuck my tongue out at him and he grabbed at me again. That was all it took to become a game. I wasn't exactly sure why I was trying to dodge him, and I don't think he was sure why he was trying to catch me, but it didn't matter. He was smirking when he caught me in the kitchen, cornering me against the counter and wrapping his arms around me.

"Got you," he said, pressing his lips to mine. "You naughty thing."

"Let me open my present and I'll show you just how naughty I can be," I murmured.

I felt that telltale smirk against my mouth. "I don't have to get you a present to see how naughty you can be. I just have to do this—" his hand moved to the side of my face and traced his fingers down my neck, making me shiver "—and you'll be begging me to—"

"No, I won't," I grumbled. "I don't beg."

His head was tilted down to look at me, his body pressed tight to mine as his fingers tickled along my collarbone and to the center of my neck. I swallowed involuntarily and he smiled as the muscles in my throat flexed.

"I think I can make you beg," he said.

"For what?"

"For your present," he said simply.

"But—"

"But I'm not going to." He kissed me again, making my breath hitch as his teeth grazed my bottom lip. "I'm just going to give it to you."

"Wow, I'm honoured by your kindness and generosity," I said sarcastically.

"Don't be. It's only because, for some ridiculous reason, I'm completely in love with you and want you to be happy."

His lips found mine again and his arms loosened, embracing me rather than pinning me to the counter. I couldn't keep myself from kissing him back and relaxing against his body. The hand that had been lightly teasing my neck moved to my head and he brushed his fingers through my hair as he slipped his tongue into my mouth.

When he pulled back, leaving me breathless, his eyes were sparkling.

"Here's what's going to happen," he murmured. "I'm going to make us hot chocolate."

I laughed, startled at the clash between his tone and his words. "What?"

"I'm going to make hot chocolate," he repeated. "You're going to go to your room, open the box that's sitting on your bed, and put on what's inside. When you come back out here, we're going to go to your living room to find the presents Santa left under your tree while you were in the bathroom before we left for the Christmas party."

My throat was dry and my heart was hammering in my chest. All I could do was nod as he let go of me, the corners of his lips twisting up in a mischievous smile. He waited a moment before lifting an eyebrow and nudging me towards my bedroom.

The box sitting on my bed was white and flat with a gold ribbon wrapped around it. I twisted my lips to the side, wondering what kind of ridiculousness was inside. J.P. had never been the type to ask me to wear sexy lingerie or anything, though maybe it just hadn't felt right for him to ask before we were officially a couple. It wasn't like my bras and panties were particularly frumpy, but I'd never purposely dressed up in anything lacy or sheer for him.

Or maybe there was nothing inside. I wouldn't put it past him to put an empty box on my bed and lose his mind laughing when I came out wearing what was in it.

Or maybe it was rigged with a confetti cannon. Or a glitter bomb. Or one of those butterfly spinners that jumps out of cards. I wouldn't put any of those things past J.P.

I was almost nervous as I stepped forward, swallowing hard as my fingers met the glittery edge of the ribbon. I pulled it, unravelling the bow, and let it fall to the side. Heart racing, I gently worked the lid of the box off.

Nothing jumped out at me or exploded, and the box wasn't empty. It didn't hold anything lacy or gauzy, either. I laughed softly as I put the lid of the box down, reaching in and pulling out pyjamas.

Just pyjamas.

They weren't silky or satiny and there was nothing particularly sexy about them. They were soft and cozy, the fabric warm beneath my fingers. I giggled as I pulled the shirt out: white, with long sleeves striped red and green, and the words "Santa's Favourite Elf" scrawled across the front. The pants were striped too and even had pockets.

I undressed quickly, throwing the dress I'd barely worn onto the floor of my closet and taking off my bra and panties before pulling my new pyjamas on. They fit perfectly and I grinned at myself in the mirror before quickly washing my makeup off and brushing my hair. Once I was done, I rushed to my bedroom door excitedly.

J.P. was in the kitchen, hovering over mugs of hot chocolate on the counter. He turned towards me just in time to see my mouth drop open.

"What?" he asked innocently.

He was wearing the same pyjamas. The exact same pyjamas, save for the shirt, which had the word "Santa" scrawled across the front instead of "Santa's Favourite Elf."

The bastard got us matching pyjamas.

I knew what he was expecting. I could see it in his eyes, the way they shone with excitement and anticipation. I could almost see the reflection of myself reacting in them, doing exactly what he expected me to do. He was waiting for me to fold my arms and pout, to declare I was breaking up with him or to tell him he was a complete and total bastard.

Which, of course, he was.

I hesitated, though. I stared at his pyjamas that matched mine so perfectly, wondering what exactly he'd been thinking when he bought them. He looked like an idiot, dressed in those striped pyjamas like some kind of complete dork. I looked cute in mine, but the matchy-matchy thing? It wasn't just about embarrassing me or making me roll my eyes.

He was expecting me to do that because part of him loved teasing me and adored seeing me flustered. And I wasn't going to do that because I loved catching him off guard and shocking him, which was much harder to do than it seemed.

I let my eyes trail down his body, taking in every inch of those pyjamas before I looked back up at him. Steadily, I crossed the kitchen, holding his gaze with each step. One of his eyebrows cocked just slightly, just enough that I knew he wasn't sure what I was doing.

When I reached him, I looked up and down at him again before reaching behind him and grabbing one of the mugs of hot chocolate.

"They look better on me," I said, turning and striding to the living room.

I didn't have to look at him to know he was startled. He laughed, bringing his own mug of hot chocolate to the living room.

"I thought you were going to break up with me again," he said.

"I will after you give me my present," I replied.

The gifts were waiting under the tree like he'd said. The one with his name on it had been tucked under there since I'd bought it and was now joined by a wide, flat package wrapped in red and white paper. I took a sip of the steaming hot chocolate, letting the rich scent fill my nose before I set it on the coffee table and plunked myself down on the floor by the tree.

"C'mon," I said, looking up at J.P. impatiently. "Let's open gifts."

He looked amused as he sat beside me on the floor rather than on the couch or chair. Once he had, I crawled forward, ducking beneath the tree to grab my present for him. He smiled, pulling the flat package out and holding it towards me.

"This is for you," he said unnecessarily. "You go first."

"What if I don't want to?" I asked.

His usual smirk was replaced by an almost-nervous smile. "I know you want to. More importantly, I've been waiting all night to give this to you and I can't wait any longer."

Oh, God.

My mouth was dry as I took the package from him. I had no idea what it could be; it wasn't overly heavy but wasn't light. Whatever it was, it was in a box, so I had no clues there. It could have been any number of things. My heart fluttered with a strange mix of anticipation and dread, wanting to know what J.P. could have possibly gotten that was making him look at me so restlessly.

"It better not be something cheesy," I said, my voice wavering.

"Open it and find out."

I looked at him. "Is it cheese? Because that's the only acceptable cheesy thing."

He snorted softly. "Now you tell me."

I bit my lip, staring down at the package.

"Just open it, Nell," he urged. "It's something I know you love. You've told me you do."

Nodding, I slipped a finger beneath the wrapping paper. The only noise in my apartment was the sound of tearing and crinkling as I unwrapped the gift. Beneath the paper was another plain white box, and I tried to take an unnoticeable breath as I lifted the lid trepidatiously.

J.P.'s face was stoic and thoughtful, the light catching his eyes in a way that made the blue irises seem immeasurably deep. He looked so good, so unfairly good, his thick blond hair brushing against his forehead and his skin smooth and tanned. It was disgusting how attractive he was, and even more disgusting that he had scrawled his name in black Sharpie across the picture.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said without thinking, lifting the silver frame out of the box.

"You don't like it?" he asked, the tiniest modicum of hurt in his voice.

I looked up, not sure if I was more shocked that he actually gave me a signed photo of himself or that he was completely serious about it. His eyebrows were furrowed together comically, and it was only the fact that a muscle in his cheek was twitching uncontrollably that tipped me off.

"Bastard," I muttered as he burst out laughing.

"It's so you have something to remember me by when you inevitably break up with me again," he said, his voice choked.

"You couldn't even keep a straight face," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, but for a second, you were seriously concerned that you'd hurt my feelings."

"No, I was seriously concerned that you'd had a stroke or something that made you think this was a good idea."

It took a while before J.P. could stop laughing.

"I'm glad one of us thinks you're funny," I said as he tried to catch his breath.

"I know, right?" He sniffed, wiping his face. "Worth it."

There was an awkward moment where he looked at me and I looked at him, wondering if that was it, if he'd really just gotten me a picture of himself. It lasted so long that I cleared my throat.

"Um, I guess you can open—"

"You don't want your actual gift?" he asked.

"Of course I want my actual gift!" I snapped. "I just didn't want to assume you were smart enough to get me something other than a signed picture of your stupid face."

"Jeez, fine." He chuckled as he reached back under the tree to grab a box I hadn't noticed tucked near the back. "Here. For real this time, this is your gift."

It was also wrapped, but I could tell what it was through the paper. The size, the shape, the weight... that was a jewellery box.

"You didn't," I whispered.

"Just open it," he said for the second time.

I didn't know what I was going to do once I did open it. I didn't want jewellery. I liked jewellery, but I didn't like that it had to mean something. What if he got me something I didn't want to wear every day? Would he be offended? And what... it was going to mean something. Whatever was in that box, he was giving it to me because he wanted to tell me something. One month or six months, it didn't matter; this was one of those relationship things, one of those things that didn't make my stomach flutter with happy little butterflies but with the slimy dread of commitment. People would see me wearing whatever it was and they'd know; I was taken. I belonged to someone.

My palms started sweating and my fingers slipped on the paper as I tried to unwrap it. I could feel J.P.'s eyes on me as the wrapping started to tear, almost like it was in slow motion. When the corner of the black box beneath it peeked out, I swallowed hard and took a shallow breath.

Would it be so bad, though? I mean, people might see me wear whatever piece of jewellery J.P. had picked out and think whatever they wanted, but it was like Louie had said: it didn't matter what anyone else thought. I knew I didn't belong to J.P. just as much as I knew he didn't want to own me because we'd talked about it. We knew what we wanted out of a relationship with each other, and being controlled by the other person was something we both agreed we hated. Why did a piece of jewellery have to signify anything other than thoughtfulness? Whatever he'd bought, it was because he thought whenever I wore it, I'd think of him.

Wasn't that what gifts were really about? Was that so bad?

The paper was drifting to the floor as I decided it wasn't, that whatever he'd gotten me, I would love because I loved him. Maybe the true gift he'd given me was a moment of personal growth and reflection.

My heart lightened and my dread turned to excitement as I found the front of the box. It was cool and hard beneath my fingers and I lifted the lid delicately.

The item inside was jewelled, all right. It had four lavender coloured gemstones shaped like diamonds set into a stainless steel base. I stared at it, trying to reconcile my feelings

"I know you said you didn't want jewellery, but I figured this didn't, um, count," he said immediately. "It's not really jewellery."

"It's a butt plug, J.P.," I said. "Just because it has jewels on it doesn't make it jewellery."

I lifted the butt plug out of the box, the metal smooth beneath my fingers. J.P. watched as I examined it, my lips pressed together until I looked up at him and broke into a full smile.

"You like it?" he asked, grinning.

"It's perfect," I giggled.

He leaned forward and kissed me heatedly, pulling my face to his.

"You are the easiest person to shop for," he murmured. "The problem was that I had too many options, you know?"

"You picked well," I said, nipping at his lip. "I can't wait to try this out."

"I get to be there when you do, right?"

"Maybe. We'll see."

It took us a while to stop kissing, and a while after that to stop laughing, and it was only when we did that my stomach fluttered nervously again.

"Is it my turn now?" J.P. asked.

I looked at the still-wrapped gift sitting beside me.

"Um," I said. "Maybe, um... maybe I should get you something else."

He looked incredulously amused. "Did you get me a butt plug too?"

"No!" I said, blushing. "It's just... it's stupid. I didn't... it was a bad idea."

He reached for the gift anyway and I snatched it away.

"I'll get you something else." I scooted backwards on the carpet away from him. "Tomorrow, before I leave. Please?"

"Not a chance." He had a predatory grin on his face as he crawled forward. "I have to see what's in this now."

"It's a bad gift."

"Even better."

"J.P., don't," I pleaded as he reached me. "It's embarrassing."

"I live for embarrassing you."

I fell silent, letting him take the wrapped gift from me. A lopsided smile grew on his face, likely because he could see my skin turning pink. I could feel it, a rush of blood that was crawling up my neck.

"Please, babe?"

"Fine," I said, my voice wavering as my stomach turned. "You're never going to stop making fun of me anyway."

As much as he tried to hold my gaze, I couldn't watch him unwrap it. I listened as he tore the paper, bunching it up in his hand before letting it drop to the ground.

The lid to the box opened and he went quiet for a moment. Then, he chuckled.

"Nell, this is—"

"Shut up. I know. It's dumb. I shouldn't have listened to your stupid sister and stupid Sydney and just got you the case of beer I was going to get you in the first place."

"Babe, I love it."

My face burned as I stared firmly at the wall on the other side of the room. It wasn't until he moved beside me and touched my cheek, his fingers almost frozen compared to the heat of my skin, that I looked at him.

"I love it," he repeated. "It's perfect."

"It" was exactly what Anne-Marie and Sydney said a present needed to be; not too serious, but sentimental because they were absolutely certain that's what he would get me. He didn't. He got me a butt plug, and I got him a tie clip with his initials monogrammed on the front.

Well, and a special message engraved on it.

"Thanks for putting 'bastard' on the back instead of the front," he said. "I mean, I still would have worn it, but I won't have to explain it to as many clients this way."

I didn't say anything and he put the box down before pulling me onto his lap.

"Will it make things better if I promise I'll only tell you how sweet and thoughtful it was once, and just wear it every day without saying anything because it's one of the best gifts I've ever gotten?"

"Yeah, probably," I said quietly.

He hugged me tight to his chest. "Okay. I'm going to wear it every day and laugh every time I look at it because it's amazing and thoughtful. I love it."

"I love you," I whispered, not looking at him. "You probably want me to say it more or something but I just—"