Thank you, Christmas

Chapter 2

Jamison

Where the fuck is she? I have been asking this question since I walked in the door today. I look around frantically trying to catch a glimpse of my Christmas Angel. That’s what I call her, the girl I saw when I first began volunteering here two Christmases ago. I have always been the strong silent type. I go to work, pay my bills, mind my business, and don’t do much except for the basketball game with the boys. The guys I work with rag me for being celibate and not chasing ass like them, but that has never been my scene. I have never been even remotely enticed before. Well....until the first time I laid eyes on my Angel.

It was my third year at the soup kitchen volunteering for this foster home. I began coming here helping out a few years prior to that in honor of my mom who was raised here. As a construction worker, my hours were limited and since I have no family left, I work all the hours I can. I used to convince myself it was necessary to save money and put away for my future. You know, save for the family I wanted one day. It didn’t hit me that perhaps it was because I was lonely until I walked in here two years ago and she came through my line. I swear I never believed in snow fairies until the moment she walked in. She was pure perfection. Short, still plush with that baby fat she hadn’t lost yet, and her blonde hair shone like spun gold against the glow of the Christmas lights.

She slid through the line, head down, face like a cherub, the same look of loneliness I saw in the mirror every day. I watched as people around the building called her name, wished her Happy Holidays, and inquired about her health. She would blush, whisper an answer, and put her head back down. My heart immediately panged to be the one on the receiving end of her whisper. To be able to feel her breath against my chest as she exhaled, her body shaking and sweating all over me as I throbbed inside of her. What I wouldn't give to be able to hear her heartbeat on my chest as I held her. To say these thoughts took me by surprise is an understatement. I had never had such a strong feeling for someone before and as hard my heart was beating, I knew it was no coincidence and not fleeting.

When she walked up to me, her plate in front of her, looking so shy and sheepish, her skin pale, yet flushed, I barely stopped myself from reaching out and touching her face. The need to feel her soft skin somehow vital. She looked up at me, her ocean blue eyes, expectant and scared. My throat closed up as she met my gaze. “Mashed potatoes?” I blew out my mouth not able to say much else.

“Yes. Thank you.” and right there, straight through my heart like a pierced bullet her voice went, and I knew she was it. That night, I found out through a bit of subterfuge, that she was a foster kid there, seventeen years old and had no family. I probably should have felt wrong about picturing her seventeen-year-old body riding my dick, but I didn't. She is going to be my wife after all. Jesus, how hard it was to leave her there. Everything in me was screaming to grab her and bring her home with me. Alas, I know that is not how the system works. So, I did the next best thing. I found her caseworker, explained everything as best I could without giving away everything. I mean shit, I didn’t want to look like an asshole, lusting for a teenager. Though to be fair, it was more than lust then and I knew it. I wrote a check every week to be used for anything she wanted and needed, and I received daily updates about any and everything. Her caseworker was reticent and rightfully so. I thought I had hidden my real motive from her, but after about a month, she called me on it. I came clean but promised I wouldn’t come near her until she was nineteen. Now, here I am looking around for my new purpose in life and I am beginning to hyperventilate not seeing her.

“She’s at the pastry table helping the kids make cookies.” a voice whispers in my ear. I turn and see her former caseworker walking past me with a wink. I smile and nod, my pulse slowing down when I turn and spot her across the room. Standing for a second, I take a moment to watch her as she giggles with the little kids, frosting covering her face, everything about her bright and sparkling. I can picture her in our kitchen doing that with our own little brood, a counter covered in cookie dough, dishes all over the sink, with a huge Christmas tree in the living room surrounded by gifts. My hand makes its way back to my chest as my heart begins to react in tandem with my cock that knows tonight, we bring our woman home.