The Stones of Christmas

She was a joy to eat, sensitive and responsive, her pleasure evident on her face and in her gestures. I pulled a chair over and sat down in it, wanting to get comfortable and enjoy her. I leaned forward, spread her apart and licked and sucked her naked pussy. In all the jewelry she'd become a queen, the center of the world, and I was more than content to sit there and pleasure her and watch the rapture on her face. Occasionally she would tear her eyes from me and extend a hand and admire her rings and bracelets like a child playing dress-up, and for some reason that made me terribly excited

I would have eaten her forever, but as she neared her climax she stopped me, pushing me away.

"I lied when I told you this was all I did on Christmas Eve," she said. "There's more."

I looked at her expectantly. My lips were covered with her excitement.

She reached down a gem-encrusted hand and parted her labia and began to play with herself, her eyes locked on mine to see how I responded.

"I do this in my bedroom," she said. "I set up a mirror so I can see, and then I masturbate. I pretend I'm a queen being serviced by a slave. Is that awful?"

I'd never seen anything so sexy in my life. I shook my head.

"No," I said. "It's perfect. You be a queen and let me be your slave. I want to service you. I want to do whatever you want."

She played with her pussy, rolling her fingers around sensually and dipping them inside until I could see her eyes getting cloudy with impending orgasm. There was no doubt that she liked being watched, that she enjoyed sharing her games. Her breathing was fast and shallow, her hard, erect nipples peaked out from the wreath of chains around her neck.

I pushed my chair away from the table and sat there, my erection pointed straight at the ceiling, and said, "Take me, princess. Take whatever you want from me."

She smiled self-consciously and came over. Her jewelry jangled as she threw her leg over mine, put one ring-covered hand on my shoulder and squatted down, reaching beneath her with other hand and fitting the head of my cock to her opening.

"Oh," she said. "Ohhh…" And she sank down on my prick, taking it inside her.

I felt the shudder in her lean body. She was so tiny compared to me, all arms and legs, but she sank down on my cock till it was all inside her, every bit of it, her thighs trembling with the strain, then she folded me into her arms and kissed me hard.

I let her do everything. I wanted her to use me for her own selfish pleasure and I didn't even care whether I came or not. Just to sit there and feel her fucking me, lifting herself off my cock and then plunging back down, screwing her slim hips around in hungry circles around my cock was heaven. The necklaces swayed and beat against her chest, her earrings gleamed in the dim streetlights coming in the window. I grabbed her ass and to lifted her in time to her thrusts when her legs began to give out.

"Tell me I'm good," she whispered in my ear as she fucked me. "Tell me you love fucking me."

"You're more than good," I answered. "I've never felt anything like you. You're so beautiful you make me weak. I just want to fuck you forever."

She came then, a quick little tremor that made her lean back and bite her lip and dig her nails into my shoulder, then collapse against me so that even through all the chains and necklaces I could feel her heart hammering in her chest.

I held her ass in my hands and she was so small and light that I was able to stand up with my cock still inside her. I turned her around and laid her down on the cheap sofa, never breaking contact. I smoothed her hair back so I could see her face, and then I began to fuck her. She wrapped her legs around me and hung on.

I fucked her hard, on fire for her. I fucked her so hard that the chains rattled on her chest, the stones knocking against each other and falling in a disorganized heap around her neck. Tracy held me tight, digging her nails into my arms and shoulders and biting my mouth whenever I tried to kiss her. We fucked with the fury of two lonely people desperate for each other.

She held me so close that all I could feel was her tight heat gripping me and all I could see was the cold gleam of the jewelry shaking on her body with every thrust. She suddenly arched her back, her nipples poking through the wealth of chain like two little fingers pointing straight at the ceiling. I felt her convulse and heard her cry out and I let myself go, exploding inside her with a release so deep and profound that my whole body snapped and shuddered like a whip. I poured myself into her, giving her everything I had.

* * * * *

In the end she had to let me buy the necklace, because she knew what was up. The earrings too. I paid full price, but I didn't care. In fact I insisted on it. I wouldn't let her wrap them, though: I took them home and wrapped them myself. The phone kept on ringing but I ignored it.

I made her promise to wait till I came back before she went to her parents' house, and she did, letting me in when I knocked at the back door. She'd been waiting.

It was a bright and sunny day, that Christmas, but we didn't notice. We kept the shades down in Tracy's room above the shop, and I watched her face as she opened her gift.