Home for a Holiday Hookup

Finally, she thought. That was painful.

Rita wasn't the type who got hyped over holiday prep. She definitely wasn't the type to savor a visit with the whole extended family. Every minute felt longer than the one before.

She needed to survive another Christmas at the family home but that meant enduring the parade of relatives. She was one of the few in the family who had left this shitty town to make something of herself. She was also possibly the only one who wasn't on her knees for some priest (metaphorically or otherwise) every Sunday.

The room that had been hers throughout her younger years seemed remarkably small now, and it wasn't just because her parents had stashed some boxes in there for storage. The place felt confining no matter where she looked.

Rita dug through her luggage but didn't really know what for. There were elegant dresses she suddenly didn't feel her family deserved to see, gifts for the little shithead nieces and nephews, a vibrator that might get her disowned if her mother saw it. She chuckled at that last thought. She had been on the brink of disownment ever since she'd moved out of town and even more so since cutting her hair short.

"I'll just get some fresh air," she finally said to herself. She was still wearing the conservative winter dress from before. It was probably the only thing she owned that Aunt Martha would deem acceptable -- though it probably rode the line since it had buttons down the front which could open the way for sin or some shit. Rita threw on a coat over the top to ward off the December breeze.

The neighborhood hadn't changed, though it, too, seemed more compact than before. There was the Madsons' ugly yellow house, the Wilsons' place lit up with half a city's worth of Christmas lights, the place where that creepy old Travis Christolm used to live...

The memories were not exactly nostalgic.

Despite the sun still clinging to the horizon there weren't many people out. The biting cold saw to that.

Rita had been so lost in her thoughts she was almost upon him before she realized it. The man was tall, but not remarkably so, bearded but not notable for it, thin but not excessively so. He pulled his snow shovel short so as not to block her path.

"Hello, hello," he said, amiably.

Rita sneered upward, ready to remain peeved. Something relaxed her tension just slightly. "Hi..."

Something about him seemed familiar but she couldn't place it.

"Best watch your step, Rita. The ice don't taste like schnozzberries."

His familiarity with her would have been creepy as fuck if he hadn't given away the game. "Henry? Seriously?" She'd never seen him with a beard before but now his face was obvious. He'd always been one of those oddball side-characters in high school that nobody could figure out.

"At your service," he swept off his beanie and gave a mocking bow. It was a weird thing to say, but then, at least to the extent that she knew him, that's always what Henry had been. His dirty blond hair wagged noncommittally in the breeze. Rita thought she might detect the edge of a tattoo peeking above his collar -- a rarity in this town.

"You still live here?"

He shrugged. "Shit happens. Could be worse."

"You sure about that?"

"Well, I could be wandering through the cold brooding to myself."

Ooh, deep cut. She'd almost forgotten that about him. But the insult also helped cut through her haze. "You haven't gotten wrapped up in the town cult, have you?" She jerked her thumb back toward the church.

"Nah, they can keep their dry crackers and goofy hats. I'll sleep in on the weekend."

"Finally, I found one person in this town who isn't nuts."

He gave her a little mock salute and the smirky smile everyone knew him for.

She wasn't sure why, but a very specific, very devious image appeared in her mind at that moment. Fuck it, why not? Rita thought, He's not wearing a ring and I need something to take my mind off all the bullshit anyway. Why not?

"I've kinda been itching to find someone worth talking to. Even if it's just for the week, a girl needs someone real around."

He looked like he wasn't sure what to make of that and his comeback wasn't as snarky as usual. "Damn, is this place that bad for you?"

"Everybody's a cultist. They see my short hair and tattoos and assume I have orgies with the devil or some shit."

"Orgies with the devil sounds like a rockin' time." He chuckled. "Might keep you warm in winter too!"

She stepped up a little closer to him. "Well, you're right about one thing. It is cold. I could stand to warm up a bit but I don't want to talk to everyone at home."

"There's no cafes or anything in this part of town, if that's what you're after. You should know that."

Wow, he's also still oblivious.

She managed not to roll her eyes, but stepped forward to grab at him. Her fingers slid a few inches into his pants pocket and pulled him in closer. "Not a cafe, dumbass. I want to sit by your fireplace."

It was very direct, even for her, but she had decided she wasn't in the mood for the chase.

His eyebrow went up. Finally, she thought.

"You saying what I think you're saying, Rita?"

"Do I gotta spell it out for you?" Her fingers were tugging at his fly as she spoke.

"When you put it like that..." came his most mischievous tone.

There was still some skepticism in his voice, but he nevertheless guided her to the door, abandoning his snow shovel there as if leaving his sock on the doorknob.

Henry led her through the threshold, but she propelled him more than the other way around.

The house was a classic old midwestern design with exposed brick and a scent that said, "this carpet has been replaced twice to reduce the boomer cigarette stench." The small stack of dishes in the sink and the unruly jumble of junk on the coffee table identified it as a bachelor pad.

To his credit, Henry tried to be serious for a moment. "Ok Rita, seriously, why are you suddenly into me?"

Quickly doffing her jacket, she decided to be very direct. "Honestly, I don't want you, Henry. I just want some dick. Will you fuckin' give it to me?"

She didn't wait for a reply. Instead, she pushed him up against the wall and pulled his belt open. Underneath were briefs which she unceremoniously tugged downward as well, revealing a healthy -- if still mostly soft -- penis and a heavy, hanging pair of balls.

Rita regarded her catch for only a few moments before sliding her lips around it. She allowed herself to relish the sensation of it stiffening in her mouth. Her tongue probed while her hands tugged at the skin of his scrotum.

Henry, for his part, no longer seemed interested in talking. He leaned back against the wall beside his front door, hardly an inch of his skin exposed except for his genitals, and let out long, groaning sighs of satisfaction. For the moment he didn't even bother reveling in his good fortune. His unexpected visitor's talented tongue and fingertips were enough to keep his mind occupied.

The difference between a soft and hard cock seemed to span only the space of a few breaths, and Rita quickly found her nose could no longer reach his abdomen. It didn't matter, though. She gripped his stiff shaft and luxuriated in the musky scent of man. Had it been so long that the smell could command such sway over her?

His fingers laced through her pixie-bob haircut, commanding but not forcing her head forward. She'd have been employing her throat to its fullest anyway, but the barely restrained nature of his animal lust made her all the more eager. The urgency in his groans and his hips sparked her loins and she was surprised to find her hands had already undone half the buttons on her dress.

The moment she was able to shuck the dress, Rita stood and yanked him by the cock toward the couch. He let out a yelp that she would only later realize was probably pain but he didn't let it register on his face.

Rita fell backwards over the sofa's armrest. "Fuckin' eat me!" she cried, sounding as if she might die if he failed to do so.

And again, to Henry's credit, he dove into his assignment. Her thong disappeared in the space of a breath and his tongue replaced it, taking that breath away.

Where he had been calm, moaning his approval of her oral ministrations, she was loud, demanding he "Oh, lick higher," and, "Yeah, I want to feel your tongue inside," and, "Oh fuck yeah, hum right there!"

Henry was clearly not as experienced as some of her previous lovers, but he dove into his assignment with fervor.

Rita's breasts had tumbled free of her bra cups and she kneaded them hungrily as she felt the orgasm approach. Am I really going to cum so soon? she thought. Ten minutes ago, the thought of fucking him hadn't even crossed my mind!

But the building sensation in her belly confirmed it was possible. Her hand shot out to hold Henry's face in place while her pelvis bucked under his tongue. Rita's cries were loud; if she'd had the mind she might have hoped the priest down the street could hear.

She neither knew nor cared how long it took her to come down from that high. When she did, though, she kept hold of his hair. He obediently came up when she pulled.

"That was good." Both her eyes and her voice were bleary. "That was good. I need more." She pulled him closer to her. "Put it inside me."

She was very well lubricated by this point and he slid easily in. The sensation of being spread still made her breath catch, though. Goddamn, that's what I needed. Her legs wrapped around Henry's ass as if to prevent his escape.

For his part, Henry certainly wasn't trying to escape, and the insistent pull of her quads made things all the more exciting.

His angle was great, but Rita needed more. The days filled with awful relatives had left her overflowing with nervous energy and she needed the right pace to expend it.

Her legs snapped open, and she rose up to push him back. Given how fast everything had happened, though, Henry hadn't even gotten his shoes off, much less unshackled his ankles from the pants around them. Rita's small push thus sent him bodily to the floor with a thud.

She felt vaguely sorry, but mostly didn't care. His cock stuck up like a flagpole and she clambered atop it as quickly as possible, groaning again as he slid inside. Henry had at least gotten his jacket off and she now pushed his undershirt up while her hips undulated atop his. She raked fingernails across his chest, feeling bizarre pleasure to see the pink stripes appear on his pale skin.

Rita heard the man's groans as if from a distance, drowned out as they were by her own and by the pleasure spiking through her nervous system. Her tide was rising again, but it only caused her hips' pace to increase. He tried to grab her hips to slow things down, but she shoved his hands away, intent on meeting her clitoris' demands.

Though the pleasure had been building steadily, her climax still hit like a freight train. Her spine arched backwards and her nails dug sharply into the man's thighs. Just as the first of her faculties threatened to return, she felt the eruption within her belly that brought on its own unique sensations.

Rita reveled in the moment. She'd forgotten where she was. All the family feuds were out of the picture. She couldn't even remember the name of the man inside her. All that mattered was the pulsating high that her nerves now rode. Goddamn, I didn't know how much I needed it!

Uncounted minutes passed with nothing but their heaving breaths breaking the silence. Rita was almost startled when the man below her spoke.

"Damn, that was hot."

She looked down at his flushed face. Her vision seemed to swirl a moment before locking back in. Henry, she thought, his name is Henry. And I'm full of his cum.

She let out one last ragged breath. "Yeah. Fuck, I needed that," she began to stand up, dripping white fluid unceremoniously all over his abdomen. "I haven't been laid in weeks."

"Weeks?" Henry propped himself up on his elbows, his half-flaccid cock forming into a shiny wet horseshoe. "Hell, it's probably been almost a year for me."

"Year? Jesus Christ, you need to get out more!"

Henry kicked off his shoes and pants and they made their way toward the bathroom. "Maybe so," he chuckled.

The next few minutes were filled with chit chat and innuendos while they reluctantly dressed. Rita opened the door to leave but paused. "Y'know, I'll be here almost a full another week. Maybe I'll run into you again." She flashed naughty eyes his way and ran her hand again over the front of his pants, feeling a twitch there again.

Rita turned without another word to face the biting cold. Yes, she thought, I think I'll run into him again.