All I Want for Christmas is Her

This is a holiday romance I wrote for the Winter Holidays Contest. So, if you'd be kind enough to vote, I'd really appreciate it. Hope you enjoy it, and the holidays, too.

Nobody has to tell me this is crazy. Believe me, I know.

Right now I'm sitting in a chair in a ladies fitting room of one the bigger department stores, crouched over with my elbows on my knees, praying like hell that my the best female friend I have, Bridget, can't tell how hard she's getting me. She may not know it, but stripping out of yet another fancy outfit, down to her panties and bra again, taunting me with that crazy hot body of hers, is only getting me harder.

As she slips into one holiday dress after another, right in front of me, I can barely wrap my head around how hot she looks in just a black lace thong, and push-up bra. Never mind the sky high come-fuck-me heels she's rocking. So, no big surprise, after almost an hour of this gruelling little fashion show, my dick is practically screaming in my jeans to get out and get at her, she's got me so painfully hard. Watching her turn this way and that in one sexy little outfit after another, I know for a fact that no woman has ever looked as hot or as gorgeous as she does right now, with all that long, golden brown hair curling down her back, big blue eyes bright with amusement as she smiles at me, playfully batting her big long eyelashes. And did I mention she has to have the best smile in the entire world? And don't even get me started on her body. Perfect round, pale breasts, every inch of her sleek and toned, with the most insanely long, smooth legs I've ever seen, and the narrowest little waste, and a gorgeous ripe round ass that I'd love nothing better than to sink my teeth into.

You might wonder, if we're just friends, why she'd strip off and change her clothes right in front of me. Well, the explanation is simple, it's because she's got in her head that I'm gay. I overheard her telling one of our neighbors once, who assumed we were romantically involved, that it could never happen because I was her gay friend, Evan. So naturally, everyone now thinks I'm gay. The only good thing about that was, she also told her that I was her rock and that she loves me like a brother. I decided right then and there, that I'd happily take any kind of love I could get from her, she's just so important to me and so special. Though, if she ever wanted to get naked with me that would obviously make what we've got even better. So much better.

So, let's face it, with the sweet set-up I have with her, with how affectionate she is with me, kissing and hugging me all the time, and how open she is, like right now, practically stripping off right in front of me, you think I'd want to risk it all by telling her the truth? The truth being, if I ever had a chance with her, I'd love nothing more than to strip her naked and make love to her till we both could barely see straight, with how hard I'd go at her, both of us probably nearly go blind from coming so hard, so many times.

No damn way was I going to ruin what we have even if it is a little underhanded to let her go on thinking that we're just pals, and she's got nothing to fear from me.

Which is why I'm sitting here with a boner that won't quit, watching her tease the hell out of me, slipping off one sparkly dress and then slipping her sweet little body into yet another, like I'm made of stone, and could care less that she's practically naked and really starting to make my balls sweat.

Nodding appreciatively and thoughtfully tipping my head, as she asks me what I think of each one, I know what made her think I was gay. I had a cousin staying with me for a few months, when he first moved to the city. And Leo comes from a family of huggers, so I never thought anything of him hugging me when he'd come and go, since he always had, ever since I could remember. But your neighbors see you hugging the guy you live with, and the first thought that pops into their heads is not that you're just hugging your cousin, but that behind closed doors you're mostly likely boning each other every chance you get. And if I were gay, of course I'd be cool with everyone thinking I was. But since I wake up hard as a brick every morning lusting after my sweet little Bridget, and wondering how I can fix this crazy mess I've gotten myself into, I'm definitely into women, well, one in particular -- her.

And the real kicker? She's also roped me into going to her company Christmas party next Saturday to act as her fake boyfriend, to make a few of the office leches think she's taken. So at least I'll have an excuse to hold her and dance with her, and kiss her silly with everyone looking on. Too bad I can't let her know that it won't be an act, since all can think of is getting close to her any way I can.

As the parade of fancy dresses finally comes to an end, with lovely Bridge just down to her bra and panties, my mouth goes dry as I watch her waltz over to me, her sweet little body quivering she's so giddy about trying on all the fancy party clothes. God, she's just so much fun, she lights up any room she's in, like this little fitting room we're in now, which is practically glowing just because she's here. Then she leans close and cups my chin in her hand, tips my face up and presses a sweet little kiss to my lips, and murmurs, "Thanks for your help, Evan." And suddenly I've forgotten how to breathe.

When we finally leave the store, once she's done shopping, I decide I'll probably have a stiff drink when I get back to my place, before I get into a cold shower and take care of yet another hard on that just won't quit. I don't think I ever jacked off as much when I was in my early teens, when I first discovered how incredible it felt to stare at a center fold and get my rocks off with the help of my clenched fist, imagining the women spread naked in the magazines were smiling and spread open wide, just for me.

But let me tell you, having Bridget as my straight friend is sure as fuck playing havoc with my body. And I know damn well what I really need is to get it on with a real live woman, and to stop making love with my hand. Trouble is, and this may sound really crazy, but I'd feel like I was cheating on her if I hooked up with anyone else, even though right now, there's nothing going on between us except for the fact we're friends. Although, more times than I care to remember, I've let her cry on my shoulder, stroked her hair and hugged her close when she's told me about her latest bad dating experience. If only I could find a way to tell her to give me a try. But if I ever let her know the truth, I'm pretty sure she'd want to strangle me, since she's probably shared more with me than she has with her own sister, with me being her sensitive gay friend and all.

"So..." she says, snapping me out of it, with her hands on her hips, eyebrow cocked. "You never said which one you liked best."

I try to avoid looking right at her, standing in just her crazy sexy bra and barely there little thong, afraid to give my poor aching dick even more reason to swell. So, keeping my gaze fixed on the rack of fancy dresses, I tell her, "Well, it's hard to say, since you looked fantastic in all of them. But if I had to choose, I think it's got to be the last one. That short, sparkly skin tight black number was really hot."

She picks it up the tiny scrap of fabric, and holds it against her, looking down at herself, and nods. "You know, I like it too, but it's just so clingy and tight. Maybe I should try it on without my bra and panties."

And before I realize what she's said, my eyes almost pop out of my head, as she tells me "Okay, close your eyes and no peeking." Then she unclips her bra, clasping a hand over her boobs as she tosses it aside and then slides her thong down over her legs, giving me one hell of an eye full, even though I've only got my lids open a crack. It's like the most amazing wet dream come true, as she performs a private little strip tease just for me, though she doesn't know it. Now if only I could get my mouth on those perfect pale breasts while sliding my cock into her gorgeous nearly bare pussy, with just that alluring little blonde curl on top, my life would feel complete.

I can actually feel my cock lunging in my pants as she lifts her arms over her head to try on the dress, with her pretty breasts shifting and bouncing. And though I barely get a glimpse of her little pink pussy lips, that seem to be not only peeking back at me, but taunting me to have a lick, I swear I can feel my heart stop beating in my chest as I nearly go into shock.

Fuck, this is crazy. By now, I can feel both my eyes and my nostrils flaring, once she tells me I can open my eyes again since she's got the dress on. This has to be the hottest experience of my entire freaking life, considering I'm still fully clothed, with my dick in my pants. An insanely hard, aching dick that thankfully hasn't busted past my fly yet, though if she keeps up the sexy naked moves, there's no guarantee it won't. My eyes are literally burning for her, as I rake her over. Clenching and unclenching my hands at my sides, I know for a fact that I've never wanted a woman more than her right now. Only thing is, since she trusts me to sit here like some kind of eunuch, or even worse, just another of her girlfriends, who would never get aroused by the sight of her naked, there's just no way I can fess up and tell her I've been desperate for her pretty much since the moment I first set eyes on her, and that right now she's making me lose my mind.

Finally, smoothing her hands down over the dress, she looks up at me expectantly. "So, how does it look with nothing underneath?"

Fucking amazing, is the first thought that pops into my head, since I can see her slightly erect nipples, and can just make out the crack of her ass as she does a sexy little pirouette. But after clearing my throat, I tell her, "I think it's a perfect fit, and you look incredible." So fucking incredible, that I want to reach out and grab her and do everything I've always imagined with her.

Then if that's not enough, she turns and bends, giving me a flash of her perfect, round bare ass cheeks, and another tantalizing, if all too-brief glimpse of her tight little pussy, as she asks, "Not too much butt showing is there? I'd hate to have a wardrobe malfunction at my company Christmas party."

First of all, what she doesn't understand, is that there's no such thing as too much ass showing -- ever, especially when we're talking about a sweet tight ass like hers. Secondly, I'd love nothing better than to be ring side for any malfunction involving her clothes. Swallowing hard, clenching my hands at my sides, so I'm not tempted to reach out and give that sweet ass of hers a squeeze, or even worse, pull her into my lap and let her feel what she's doing to me, I tell her, "No, I think it looks perfect, and I wouldn't say you're showing too much."

Selfish bastard that I am, I want her in that dress the night I finally get to act out a few of my deepest darkest fantasies with her. And of course the best part of all, it'll be with her blessing, since she wants her co-workers to think we're actually involved. Well, at least I know I'm deeply involved with her, since she's the only woman in my life, though she doesn't have a clue how much I want her. And not just as a friend, though I keep my secret to myself mostly to secure our friendship, since I couldn't imagine losing what we have together, since she's always been there for me, too. She's just so selfless.

Finally, once the show is over, I do my best to close my eyes again, but in reality, I just sit and covertly watch her pull on her body hugging jeans, and pretty white fuzzy sweater that really shows off the fullness of her beautiful perky breasts. But my dick is still throbbing like a bitch to get at her, since even fully clothed she's got to be the sexiest woman alive.

As we walk out of the fitting room together, arm in arm, Bridget hugs me to her side planting a loud smacking kiss on my cheek, and says, "Thank you so much, Evan. I don't know what I'd do without you."

And I just hope she never has to find out. Because if she had even the slightest inkling that nailing her sweet ass is pretty much all I ever think of morning, noon and night, our friendship would be over, since she'd probably never be able to forgive me for living such a lie.

As Bridget hands over her credit card to pay for the dress, I catch the sales girl coyly smiling into my eyes. I've been told I'm a fairly good looking guy, standing a little over six feet tall, I've got a body I take care of, and a face women seem to like. And I keep my dark hair nicely styled, and the ladies seem to enjoy smiling into my long-lashed green eyes, like this one's playfully doing right now. But I just wish Bridget could see me like this woman does, as more than just buddy material, but someone she might like to get to know better, especially out of our clothes. And I'm sure we'd be amazing together, so damn amazing, if only...

But I just shake my head. And no surprise, after this little excursion, I know once I get home I'll be spending some time with my old friend Five Finger Mary. Seeing as she's the only thing that's going to give me any relief from this aching need nearly driving me out of my freaking mind, especially after the torture I've just endured in that change room.

Once she's got her new dress all bagged up, turning and taking my arm to leave, Bridget grins and tips her head at me. "Jeez you're just so cute, Evan. Sometimes, I swear I could eat you up with a spoon. And I just can't understand why you don't have a man in your life." Playfully reaching around and cupping my butt, she gives me a playful squeeze as she says in a whisper close to my ear, "I know I'd sure as hell want to tap this sweet ass, if I were gay and on the market."

Great, now I'll have visions of my dream woman with a strap on, happily plowing my ass. Like I don't have enough to torment me now.

After going home and jacking myself nearly raw in the shower, I wonder, not for the first time, if I actually am crazy. As I throw my head back and groan as the incredible sensation of draining my balls washes through me, I shake my head, as annoyed as I am disgusted with myself. Especially since I know damn well all I'd have to do is hit any bar in the area tonight and I'd have some pretty young thing happy to come back to my place and take care of me, since before I moved in here and became Bridget's neighbor, and frustrated platonic friend, I'd never had a problem picking up a woman -- or even two, back in the days when I'd enjoyed a little variety.

But, next weekend, at least I know, even if it's all for show, I'll be able to hold her in my arms, gaze into her eyes and kiss her pretty face off, since that's exactly what she's asked me to do. Desperate to make the creeps at work who keep hitting on her think that she's got a serious boyfriend, she's asked me to act like I'm really into her, and can't get enough. As if I need to pretend.

So, after drying myself off, I look at myself in the mirror and roll my eyes. God, what a putz, to think I could be getting ready to go out and get myself some pussy, and instead I'm going to order a pizza and ask Bridget, as so I often do on a Saturday night, if she hasn't got any plans would she like to share a slice and watch a movie with me. And after seeing her today out of her clothes, though I know nothing's going to happen, I really hope she'll say yes. Just having her sitting on the couch next to me, listening to her infectious laugh, and breathing her in, not just the sight, but the intoxicating scent of her, is too tempting to resist.

As I tidy up my living room, since I'm aware that most of us gays are neat as a pin, after tossing out a few newspapers and straightening some pillows on the couch, I toy with the idea of finally confessing -- looking her right in the eye, and telling her that not only am I straight as they come, but that I've had a thing for her from the moment I first saw her. But I can already imagine how disappointed she'd be in me once she's realizes that I've led her to believe I was just her friend and nothing more, living this lie for longer than I care to remember. And knowing she might be upset enough to never speak to me again, there's no way I can risk it. Because I just can't imagine losing her. She's become such a big part of my life, that she almost is my life.

As I dump the papers in the recycling bin out on my balcony and notice the approaching signs of winter, with the dusting of snow on the grass, and the wintry chill in the air, it quickly sends me shivering back inside. Could be one day, when I've finally had enough of just being her pal and neighbor, I'll move out and move on, and hopefully find a woman who I can care about as much as I care about her. But with how deeply I'm into Bridget, it's doubtful. She has to be the nicest person I know, looks aside, she's just so incredibly kind and generous and caring. I know she'd give me her last dime if I asked her. But not just me, she'd do anything for anyone in need. It's just the kind of person she is. And unlike a lot of people, she's not all talk, but walks the walk, too, doing more than her fair share of volunteering, helping out wherever she can. I know this because I've gone and helped her at soup kitchens and homeless shelters, and seen her at work, and damn she really does light up a room wherever she goes. So, no small wonder I'm crazy about her, and can't find it in me to move on. Although there are times I wonder how long I can keep this up.

After I phone her, and she tells me, that no, she doesn't have any plans and yes, she'd love to come over and have movie night with me tonight, I order our usual half Hawaiian, and half veggie pizza, since she can't quite commit to going vegetarian, though her conscience tells her she should -- which I also think is pretty cute. And when she comes over and throws her arms around my neck and gives me a big playful smacking kiss on the lips, my back goes stiff as a board, and I barely even dare to touch her, afraid if I pulled her in for a hug, that I might never let go.

Once we've settled on the couch with an excellent bottle of red wine she's brought over and start digging into the pizza, she grins and suggests, "Princess Bride?" Of course I just laugh, reach for the remote, and put it on for her, since I've already got it programmed. Though we've seen it way too many times to count, and I can almost recite the dialogue by heart, since it's her favorite movie of all time, how could I ever disappoint her and say no?

So, since as I'm not really into watching the movie, I spend most of the night watching her instead, of course really liking what I'm seeing. Since she knows she's safe with me, she's come over clad in just a sexy pair of silky P.J.'s, with her feet tucked in some pretty adorable fuzzy pink bunny slippers.

I know I should probably be upset that she thinks of me as so asexual, that I couldn't possibly get aroused at the sight of her in a pair of slinky pajamas, and nothing else. But I've gotten used to forcing my libido to take a hike around her -- well mostly -- so that she's never suspected how much she turns me on. But when she turns and looks at me, flashing that sexy smile of hers, no matter how hard I try not to be turned on by her, my dick still twitches in my jeans. And how could it not, when she just looks so freaking sexy right now, with her hair up in a messy bun, and her chest heaving, as she watches a fight seen unfold. And since I can even make out her nipples straining against the sheer fabric, I swear I can almost taste them on my tongue. And I'm sure she has no clue how hot she is. It's just who she is -- adorable, sweet, kind, funny and sexy as hell, Bridget.