Mistletoe Kisses

God, I wish my sister would leave.

Maybe I don’t. If I haul Noelle to my bedroom and do even half the shit I want to do to her right now, I won’t be able to stop until I’ve fucked her. If she decides to let me have her virginity, it shouldn’t be like that. It shouldn’t be tonight.

I guess I won’t kick my sister out of my house. Her presence here is literally the only thing keeping me from shoving Noelle to her knees and taking my cock out. I envision her looking up at me with those big green eyes as I grab a fistful of her red hair. Her mouth opening wide for me as I push my cock down her pretty throat, making her take it until she couldn’t take anymore.

I shift again. This time I shift the wrong way and Noelle feels the hard bulge beneath her. I can see it in the way her eyes widen and she steals a glance at me, but she quickly looks away, knowing as well as I do that nothing can be done about it.

It’s hard to focus on anything else when I want to fuck her so badly. Vaguely, I hear Noelle and my sister conversing about Christmas shopping and exchanging ideas about what to get loved ones who are hard

to buy for, but all I can think about is Noelle on the floor between my legs taking my cock. Consequently, the hard-on does not go away, and it takes every shred of decency I have (not something I have a lot of to begin with) not to haul Noelle off the couch and down the hall to my bedroom so I can get some relief.

It’s not long before Noelle says she needs to go home. Carla says goodbye and remains on the couch. I walk Noelle to the door, wondering at the feasibility of following her outside and making her get me off in the dark alcove of my front porch. It’s cold as fuck out there, though. I’m surprised Noelle’s pussy didn’t frost over while I was eating it. But then I’m not; my tongue had her melting hot.

I follow her outside anyway. Noelle backs herself up against the brick wall behind my door and looks up at me, all remorse and innocence. “I’m so sorry, I totally blew it in there. I slipped and then I didn’t know what to say.”

I shake my head dismissively, leaning an arm against the side of the house and moving in close to her. There’s little point in pretending I don’t want her now, so I don’t. Her eyes light up with surprise when I bring a rough hand up to caress her jaw.

“I like this costume, you know?”

Noelle smiles, her green eyes dancing with pleasure. “It’s your Christmas spirit,” she tells me.

I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure it’s the shortness of that skirt.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be wearing candy cane stockings underneath, but I took them off in the car.”

I frown, cocking my head curiously. “Why?”

Now her cheeks flush a pretty pink that isn’t from the cold, and she shoots an almost sheepish look up at me. “I had this fantasy…” Biting down on her bottom lip, she shakes her head and breaks my gaze. “Never mind.”

“Oh no,” I tell her, tipping her chin up so she has to look at me. “You’re finishing that thought. What kind of fantasy?”

She tries to look down again, but I won’t let her lower her chin, so only her eyes can escape me. Keeping them down while she admits her dirty secret, she says, “I… When Percy started talking to me in class, I had a feeling it pissed you off.”

“It did,” I offer dryly.

“And then I had this mental image flash to mind of you bending me over your knee and… spanking me. And it was so hot, and I got really turned on picturing it, but in my fantasy, you pulled up my skirt and spanked my bare ass. So I took off the tights, just in case.”

I blink at her. She half-undressed in the car before she came in… just in case I wanted to spank her naughty little ass.

When I don’t speak, she adds, “So they wouldn’t be in the way.”

The corners of my mouth tug upward. “Yeah, I got it.”

Dropping her gaze again, she says, “That was really embarrassing to admit.”

“Embarrassing is not the word I was thinking,” I tell her, my fingers moving tenderly along her jaw.

Her gaze locking with mine, Noelle lifts her smaller, softer hand and curls it around mine. She doesn’t move my hand away or even press it closer to her face, she simply hangs onto me. For the first time, I really get a glimpse at some of the hopeless infatuation I feel for her reflected back at me.

“I wish I could stay longer,” she says softly.

“It’s probably better that you don’t.”

There’s yearning in her gaze, undiminished by my words, but she nods anyway. “You’re probably right.”

I am right, no probably about it. I know in the depths of my soul I need to get away from her and catch my breath before I see her again, but she sounds so disappointed, before I can stop myself, I’m asking, “Are you free tomorrow?”

Regret touches her delicate features and she shakes her head. “I blew off a lot of homework and studying tonight so I could work on the insane assignment you gave me today. I’ll need to play catch-up tomorrow.”