All I Want for Christmas is Her

And as I once again find myself fantasizing about all that could be happening with us, especially if I were to peel off her pajamas, and get her naked on the couch... Suddenly feeling like my cock is ready to burst out my jeans, I jump up and tell her, "Be right back."

I do this a lot, head into the kitchen just to catch my breath when things get too intense. And then I hear her call out, "You need any help in there, Evan?"

I mutter under my breath, "Fuck, if you only knew." Grasping the kitchen counter in a death grip, shaking my head, what I wouldn't give to have her out of those sexy little P.J.'s and on her back moaning as I fill her pussy till she's screaming my name, especially considering the throbbing erection I've got going on that just won't quit. But since I know that's never going to happen, I wait a while and do my best to just try and catch my breath, and concentrate on something other than her, like how freaking cold it's going to be by Christmas, and that I need to get out and find myself a new winter coat, and maybe even a girlfriend who doesn't think I'm gay.

Eventually I re-join her on the couch, with a plate of fruit I've cut up, and a bottle of water. Figured at least it gives me a reason for being in the kitchen almost long enough to jack off and get some relief.

And as often happens, by the end of the movie, my little own princess has fallen asleep on the couch, with her lips parted and her eyelashes resting on her cheeks, asleep, she's as pretty as an angel. Sometimes, I just cover her with a blanket, and let her sleep. Unless I know she's got somewhere to be in the morning, then I might wake her up and tell the movie's over, and smile as I watch her lashes flutter open, waiting for her to smile into my eyes. But tonight, unable to resist, since she's really out, I move a little closer to her on the couch and finger a lock of her silky hair, and I'm tempted to run a finger along her jaw, just to enjoy the softness of her skin. But what I'd love even more is to brush my lips over hers, and place a kiss on her pretty mouth.

But then I'd wake her, and she'd probably freak, wondering what the hell I was up to. So, heaving a sigh, I go find a blanket and get her comfortable on the couch for the night. And the moment I've tucked it up to her chin to be sure she's nice and warm, her eyes open a little and her face breaks into a gorgeous smile. Then she's reaching for me, and pressing her lips to mine, but only for a second, which of course isn't nearly long enough. Then her eyes fall shut again, and she's out, fast asleep, looking like the angel she is. And I'm off to bed, alone again. And so fucking frustrated I could howl.

Saturday, the night of her company Christmas party, finally rolls around. And after I've knocked on Bridget's door, the second she opens up to let me in, I swear I almost swallow my tongue. With her long, shimmering golden brown hair curling around her shoulders, tight curvy little body clad in that insanely sexy dress, that I can tell is all she's wearing, except for those shiny, sky high come-fuck-me heels -- that make me want to do just that -- I don't think she's ever looked more beautiful or more tempting. Her toned legs look so incredibly long in her tiny little thigh-high dress, all I can think of is wrapping them around my waist, as I plow into her deep. And when I finally lift my gaze, and see her nipples poking enticingly against the shimmery black fabric, my dick's getting so hard, I just hope she can't tell how aroused I am, especially since we haven't even left her place yet. Jesus, some night this is going to be, already wondering if I might have to excuse myself to jack off at her company party.

After smiling into my eyes, she gives me a very appreciative once over. Then after sensually sauntering her sweet little ass over to me, she takes hold of my chin and presses, a too-quick kiss to my lips, muttering, "Mmm, somebody's looking delicious." And feeling my blood firing in my veins, with her so close, looking like sex on legs, I couldn't agree more, since all I can think of is stripping her bare and having a good long taste of her.

Swallowing hard, I look down at my fitted black suit, and silver tie, and mutter, "Thanks." Hoping like hell she hasn't picked up on my erection, because that would be pretty hard to explain.

Reaching out to fiddle with my tie, she shakes her head and says, "Damn, Evan, how is it you don't have a man in your life? I swear I would eat you alive, if I were your lover."

I blink and blink again. She did not just say that, did she?

While trying to calm my racing heart, I just give her a shrug, because I'm not too sure I can actually form words anymore, after she put that visual in my head. Then damn, if my head doesn't fill with an image of her on her knees, nearly swallowing my cock whole, as I take hold of her by the hair and desperately fuck her pretty mouth. So, I decide on the spot, we should head out, before I do something stupid like take her in my arms, bend her over and kiss her till she knows from how hard she's gotten me, just how straight I am, and how fucking much I want her. Once I've cleared my throat, I finally manage to say, "Guess we should head out, huh?" After helping her with her coat and pulling open the door, I let her go ahead of me, mostly so I can leer at her luscious ass. God, she's turned me into such a perv since she decided that I bat for the other team.

Smiling into my eyes as we walk together down the hallway, she reaches for my hand and gives it an affectionate squeeze. "Thanks again for doing this for me, Evan. I'm sure you've probably got better places to be tonight than coming to my company party and playacting as my boyfriend."

Little does she know, there's nowhere on earth I'd rather be than with her, tonight or any other night, she's got me so deep under her spell.

Once we make our way across town and get to the party, I notice the buzz around the room seems to increase as we walk through the doors of the hotel ballroom. All eyes seem to be on us, as we walk in arm in arm. No doubt, everyone's wondering who this guy is, on lovely Bridget's arm. Then I notice her smile politely as a slightly portly, middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair approaches, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, and saying, "Good to see you, Bridget," as he gives her a very slow appreciative once over.

Unphased, probably accustomed to be ogled, Bridget just smiles and makes the introductions. "Robert, this is my boyfriend, Evan Kane, and Evan, this is Robert Simpson, our company President."

As I reach out and shake his hand, I also slip my arm around Bridget, so anyone watching can see she's taken, which is why I'm here after all -- to get all the other horny bastards off her ass -- which believe me, is no hardship.

As we look for our table, a few women she works with come over to say hello. At first I'm just in the background as they all gush over each other's dresses, at least until they look over at me, and then they all stop talking and their eyes go big and round. And one of them, practically eating me up with her eyes, murmurs in a throaty purr, "And who is this gorgeous hunk of man you've brought with you tonight, Bridget?"

Smiling coyly into my eyes, since she thinks we're sharing my little secret about who she really thinks I am, Bridget steps close and slips her arms around my waist and hugs me to her side, presses a possessive kiss to my cheek, and tells them, "This is my boyfriend, Evan." And once she's made the round of introductions, I just shake hands and smile, wishing like hell it were true.

Milling around the room, being introduced to everyone as her boyfriend gets old pretty fast, especially since I can see from the leers she's getting that a lot of these guys are seriously interested in Bridget, and aren't exactly happy to discover she's in a relationship, even if it's fake. And a few of them even glare me down. But, if I can help her out, I know it shouldn't bother me that it's all for show and later we'll go home to our separate beds, and that'll be it, until movie night rolls around again. Or, until we head out to get some groceries together, or stop in at that terrific little Thai food place around the corner that we both like so much. So, I know I should be happy to at least have her for a friend, and maybe quit hoping for anything more. But sometimes it just feels like it's not enough, especially tonight when she's literally looking good enough to eat.

Thankfully dinner is good, and we make small talk with the others at our table, as we enjoy a few glasses of wine. But when the meal's over and the dancing begins, I'm happy for an excuse to have her in my arms, even if I know she's not feeling what I am. So, once we get up on the dancefloor, circling an arm around her waist, with her hand in mine, I pull her close till she's tight against me. Smiling into her eyes, I imagine if we really were a couple, I'd be holding her like this all the time, chest to chest, so close I can feel her heart beating against mine. And as gaze into her expressive blue eyes, I want so much to tell her how I feel, and who I really am, a guy who's been nuts about her pretty much since day one, who's never hooked up with another man in his life.

Smiling up warmly into my eyes, she pushes up on her toes, and whispers, "Damn, you look hot tonight, Evan. I'm sure every woman in the room would love to be where I am right now." Then before I can even appreciate what she's said, she looks over my shoulder, frowns, and mutters, "Oh, shit."

I turn my head trying to see what she's seeing, but not really sure what's upset her, I ask, "What's wrong?"

"It's Armando freaking Perez, and, god, he's looking right at me. Guy's got the worst reputation in or out of the office, and he thinks he's so hot, he doesn't understand why I can't resist him. But I've heard all about him. He's one of those love and leave 'em types. And I wouldn't be caught dead with him, he's such an obvious player."

Finally, I see the sleazy looking creep walking a slow circle around the periphery of the dance floor, watching Bridget like he can hardly wait to pounce, and now I can see why she wants me here. He's a good looking guy, but he looks like a cocky bastard, too. The kind that thinks he can have any woman he wants. But I've got news for him, he's not going anywhere near my Bridget.

I can actually feel her tensing, as he stalks around us, his gaze riveted to her like a laser beam zoomed in on its target. And then she looks up at me, and anxiously whispers, "Evan, I don't want to put you on the spot, but do you think you could kiss me? And I mean, really lay one on me. I need that jerk to think I'm taken."

Oh, damn. Is she kidding? I'd be happy to kiss her, ecstatic even, just as long as I don't get carried away. Finally, realizing this is really going to happen, heaving a deep steadying breath, I cup her face in my hands, tip her head up so her lips are just a hairs breadth from mine, and after just a brief touch of her soft lush lips to mine, I run my tongue along the seam of her mouth, till she opens for me. Slanting my mouth over hers, I slide my tongue into the warmth of her mouth, like I've dreamed of doing so many times before, and as I begin to stroke her tongue in a slow, sensuous mating, I'm amazed when she softly moans, and begins stroking mine right back. And I swear I can actually feel her melting in my arms as we get deeper into the kiss.

Cupping the back of her head in one hand, and her sweet, sweet ass in the other, I quickly lose myself in the addictive taste of her. And I soon forget this is only meant to be an act, and before I know it, I'm hard against her belly, and my chest is heaving every bit as hard as hers as I worship her mouth, pretty much mating with her tongue as she taunts me right back. And damn, I can actually feel the blood heating in my veins it just feels so amazing to actually be savoring her like this. It has to be a million times better than I've ever dreamed it would be, and now I just can't get enough of her. Squeezing her tightly against me, I don't think I could stop even if I wanted to, it just feels so good to finally be with her like this, utterly blown away by the taste of her as we lose ourselves in the deepest hungriest kiss I've ever experienced.

As I feel her arms snaking around my neck, thankfully, I remember to protect her modesty. Slipping my hand under her bare bottom, I make sure I can feel the edge of her dress is still covering her bare ass. But I'm so lost in the feel of her, without even thinking, I start kneading her silken flesh, wishing I could go even further, even as I literally feast on the taste of her, groaning as she grinds her body against mine, as our tongues continue the most erotic dance imaginable. With both our upper and lower halves practically mating through our clothes, she finally breaks the kiss, pulls back, eyes wide, gasping, and says, "Holy shit, Evan, that was some kiss." Then she narrows her eyes on me suspiciously, as though it finally dawns on her that somethings off. "Wait. You're not bi, are you?"

Mentally throwing my hands up in the air, I give up. I just can't do this anymore. I can't lie to her, pretending to be someone I'm not, especially after sharing a kiss like that, that nearly set us both on fire. So, looking her right in the eye, I tell her, "No I'm not bi, and I'm not even gay. I'm straight as an arrow, and always have been."

Gasping out loud, her eyes go big as moons, as she pushes on my chest, looking like I've slapped her. And watching the look of shock register in her eyes, I can almost see her mind going back through all the things we've said and done together. Then she gasps again before she leans in and furiously whispers, "But you've seen me almost naked when I tried on this dress." Then her eyes go even bigger as she clutches at her chest and mutters, "Oh, god, I really did get naked in front of you didn't I? And I've crawled into your bed with you to watch TV when you were sick. And oh dear lord, the things I've told you..." Then she narrows her eyes on me, and pushes even harder on my chest with a thrust of an accusatory finger. "Why the hell didn't you tell me you were straight, and why did you let me go on thinking you were gay? God, you're just as big an asshole as the rest of them, aren't you? And here I thought you were my friend." Her voice cracks, as she sadly blinks up at me as her eyes begin filling with tears. Doing her damndest to keep it together, she sniffles. "You were the best friend I ever had. And now I can't even look at you."

Before I can stop her, to even try to explain, she's spun on her heel, striding out of the room so fast, I have to jog to catch up with her. Doing my best not to cause I scene, I walk as fast as I can, trying to chase after her, then sag when I see her retreating into the ladies room, before I can get to her.

Fuck! Slamming my hand against the doorframe, I should have known this was a bad idea. There was just no way I could ever hold her in my arms and kiss her without her realizing how I felt about her, I'm just not that good an actor. Now how am I going to tell her that I still want to be her friend, but I also want to be so much more?

It feels like forever before she comes out of the bathroom, though it's probably only been about ten minutes. Her eyes are puffy and her nose is red, and I feel like shit. I've hurt her. And now I don't even know if she'll talk to me.

Still sniffing, she stands in front of me, her eyes looking so sad as she gazes up into mine. "Why did you do it, Evan? Why did you lie to me like that?"

Wiping away a tear from her cheek with my thumb, I tell her, "I never lied to you, Bridget. Somehow you got it in your head that I was gay, and I just never found a way to tell you that I wasn't. And since you seemed to like the relationship we had, I was afraid to lose you as a friend if you knew I was straight. You mean a lot to me, and I don't want to lose our friendship, which is partly why I was afraid to tell you the truth."

I watch her begin to nod, mulling over what I've said, but she still looks so hurt, it kills me. Finally, she looks past me, heaves a shaky breath and says, "I think I just want to go home now."

"Sure." And as we walk out together, I notice that she's keeping her distance from me, which really hurts. We were so close and now I don't know what we have anymore. Seeing as I'm both an English major and teacher, Walter Scott's, "Oh! What a tangled web we weave, when we first practice to deceive," rings in my head. All I know is that I just fucked up the best thing I ever had, and don't have a clue how to fix it, and I'm pretty sure there's no more eloquent way of putting it than that.

We sit silent in the cab on the way back to our apartment building, with about a foot of space between us, that feels more like a mile as she keeps her gaze fixed out the window. And maybe it's just as well she doesn't want to talk, since anything I say now is probably only going to piss her off more. And she's just mad enough to tell me she never wants to see me again. So I'll take the silent treatment for now, since we both probably need to chill and think this thing through. I can actually understand her being upset. I must seem like an entirely different person to her now that she knows who I really am, especially since I just couldn't hide how I feel about her when we were kissing -- especially like that. And I'm sure I've never kissed a woman that way before in my life, or ever wanted to.

But then it occurs to me as we travel along the expressway, that she'd kissed me back -- really kissed me.

Huh.

Once we get to our place, when I go to pay the driver she bats my hand out of the way and pays him herself, but I still reach into the car to take her hand to help her out, as I normally would. But I notice how she lets go of me the moment she sets foot on the sidewalk and doesn't take my arm. Following behind her, I just wish I knew what to say to make this better. I just can't stand to see her pull away.

Our trip up in the elevator is as deathly quiet as the cab ride, so I know she's got to be really pissed. Bridget's usually so animated and such chatter box, and if I'd just been able to resist the urge to slip my tongue in her mouth, and stopped myself from groping her ass when I kissed her, right now she'd be happily yacking up a storm about the party. So I know giving me the silent treatment has to be hard for her. Finally, when the doors open and she goes to rush ahead of me down the hallway to her apartment, I reach for her arm and stop her. And when she looks up at me and her eyes fill with tears again, I do what comes naturally, and pull her into my arms and run my hand along her back to try and soothe her, and gently cupping her head in my hand, I massage her scalp, which I know she likes. I just hate to see her this upset, especially with me.

A long while later, I pull back and look at her when she finally seems to be just hiccupping and the waterworks have pretty much subsided. Tipping up her chin, and looking into her puffy red eyes, I tell her, "I'm so sorry if I hurt you, Bridget. I honestly never meant to."

She nods and, licks her lips and says with a tiny smile, "So, I guess that's why you never had a boyfriend, huh?"

I chuckle, and hug her to my chest again, relieved when she doesn't try to pull away, telling her, "Yeah, that's why."

Then, with her fingers toying with my neck tie, she says against my chest, "But then how come I've never seen you with a woman, either."

Oh, damn. Good question. But it's probably not the perfect time to tell her that she's been the only woman in my life for about a year, though she didn't even know it. So, I just kiss the top of her head and tell her, "How about we talk some more tomorrow, and I'll make us some pancakes." Since we often have brunch together on Sundays, I figure if she says no, I'll have my answer, and she doesn't even want me for a friend anymore.