Melons Under the Mistletoe

Familiar quiet sounds stirred the silent air in my bedroom. My son's Christmas party could have been a thousand miles away, not just downstairs as I listened to this blonde stranger lapping at the cunt I had just filled with seed. Melons' hips were starting to thump up off the mattress and I knew that Goldilocks must be thrusting her clever little tongue in and out of that gash, teasing that throbbing clit.

"Oh, yeah, that's just right," Melons moaned, her body now writhing on the bed.

"Come for me," the blonde begged, pausing in her cunt lapping just enough to raise her semen coated chin and speak, but then lowered her mouth back to her joyful task. Melons ground her fragrant wetness up against Goldilocks' face. Her whole body shivered, the first wave of orgasm coursing through her body.

Then she screamed. If any party goers were asleep in the basement, she likely roused them. Her knees clamped around the blonde's ears, keeping the girl licking and finger fucking, prolonging the climax that was making her body flop around and rise up right off the bed. Goldilocks was making appreciative noises of her own, clearly enjoying licking up as much of the nectar mixed with my seed as possible.

"Merry Christmas," Melons yelled, one last spasm singling the end of her orgasm."The best present of all..."

That was the last thing I remembered before I nodded off. I awoke a few hours later, the morning sunshine flooding my room. The rumpled pile of my discarded clothing still cluttered a corner of my bed, spilling over onto the floor. Neither Melons nor Goldilocks were anywhere to be seen. It might all be a dream, except for the tiny crumpled sprig of mistletoe lying on the sheet. I lifted it to my nose and was sure that I detected the sweet scent of a young woman, or two.

"This is my best Christmas ever," I smiled, and fell back to sleep until mid-afternoon.