Winter is here...and Holly is coming. Hopefully, you will, too. Enjoy!
SSW
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I was never one to deal with frustration very well. I buried my emotions...or ran from them.
That's how I'd met Chris. I'd been running from the consistent annoyance of my roommate being gaga in love at our shared apartment. Little had I known what had awaited me at the mall. In the bedroom.
We'd come so far in eleven months. I'd learned to let go with Chris. To embrace the pleasures he introduced to me. Which included a lot of time with his hand on my ass.
The irony was, as much as I'd despised the act when I'd read the online list last Christmas, I'd grown to like getting spanked by him. Palms only; not the riding crop or flogger he'd also said he liked on the list. And my hands or arms needed to be restrained in some way. Who'd have thought it?
We'd done lessons on the differences between a blow job versus face fucking. The various sex positions to get the desired internal contact, the most orgasms, and to delay the former the longest. He'd taught me there was an art to eating pussy. How to squirt. The right and wrong way to use my teeth on his cock...to avoid his balls with them. I'd learned he was extremely sensitive when I used my tongue to play with his hardware. That I liked having my hair pulled. And as much as he liked to tease me with his finger at my asshole—and I enjoyed it—I was adamant that it was the only thing inserted there.
For the past few weeks, we'd been concentrating on orgasm control. It had been hard at first because I'd gotten used to only feeling, not concentrating, when we were together like that. As a result, we'd discussed possible punishments for disobedience. He'd wanted to avoid spanking since I liked it and he wasn't into physical harm. We'd eventually settled on standing naked in the corner, bent over with my legs spread and my wrists bound to my ankles, my ass bared to the room. It was uncomfortable and somewhat humiliating, but not painful.
He always started with a quarter of an hour and increased it by five-minute intervals if I made noises—whining, heavy sighs, even giggling—or broke my position in any way. Once, I even came because I could hear him jerking off behind me and I'd let my mind wander. That had cost me another fifteen minutes. There had been many times in the corner at first. Thankfully, he was patient, and I quickly became better at stemming my impulses when our times together grew more intense.
Through it all, he said he had faith in me. I had my doubts that I was too stubborn for him...that he'd give up on me. But he never did. Instead, he continually encouraged me. Reminded me that he would be there for me. And he admitted I'd had his heart from that day in the mall...long before that first night he'd seduced me.
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Thanksgiving had always been my favorite holiday, even before Christmas and my birthday, which was also in December. It kicked off the true holiday season for me. Feasting on turkey, dressing, and mashed potatoes with my parents. Sitting around afterwards watching a movie while we complained that we'd eaten too much but still found room for a slice of warm pecan pie with vanilla ice cream. And I'd been looking forward to having Chris join us this year for it all.
However, my parents informed me they had decided to spend the winter in Florida after last year's accident. They just didn't want to deal with the snow anymore. Knowing they'd miss the two special days next month, I at least tried to convince them to wait to leave until after Thanksgiving. But they needed to be down there before the holiday in order to secure the deal they'd been offered for the condo rental. I reluctantly gave them my blessing and watched them drive off with smiles on their faces. My mom had reassured me both her and my dad felt safe leaving me in Chris's capable hands; that we would make new traditions together.
The problem was, I didn't want new traditions. I wanted the old traditions I'd always known...with Chris added in. But I swallowed my pride and accepted that my life was changing, whether I wanted to admit it or not.
Chris surprised me with his parents' plan to fly us both out west for the week to spend the holiday with them. They had moved closer to one of his sisters last winter, and everyone was gathering in Arizona this year. I was so excited to meet them in person. Yet again, though, our plans were waylaid when my boss asked me to pick up extra shifts due to losing another coworker to early maternity leave. I really could use the money, and Chris said he really wanted to go on the trip since it had been a few years since he'd seen his two sisters. He suggested adjusting the time he'd be gone so he could return in time to celebrate the special day with me. As much as it hurt to know I couldn't go with him, I was okay with the compromise.
Reluctantly, we parted at the airport after a myriad of kisses when he had to board. I spent the weekend sulking and the first part of the week trying not to spend too much time texting him when I was supposed to be manning the front desk at the gym. It amazed me how often people came to work out leading up to the day synonymous with overeating. One would think they'd be gung-ho in December with all the cookies and sweets they were consuming. Or maybe just wait it out another few weeks when they would kick in their New Year's resolutions to lose weight. That was obviously our busiest time of the year. Then it always tapered off by the end of January only to pick back up in May and June to get those bodies ready for summer. Ah, the circle of gym life.
Despite the changes in my expected plans, I still anticipated Thanksgiving Day. Chris would be back. I'd have my favorite meal. This weekend, we'd go get a tree and decorate my apartment. All in keeping the rest of the traditions alive.
Jolie had expressed an interest last week in having dinner with Chris and I. Somehow in the conversation, Dirk got invited, too. She said he was bringing the meat so I didn't have to worry about picking it up. What could I say? Even the smallest bird I'd gotten last year was too much for three of us. If Dirk wanted to go through the trouble of fighting the crowds at the grocery store, so be it. I tried not to imagine the awkward atmosphere at dinner where none of us talked. At all. I reasoned that I'd get over it.
But this morning when I asked her if Dirk was defrosting the turkey at his place because I'd not seen it, she dropped the bomb that he was on a no-poultry diet and had bought a ham for us to bake instead tomorrow. Lots of people had ham instead of turkey. I liked ham, didn't I? Then she rationalized, since there was no bird, there was no need for stuffing. And as neither her nor Dirk were big on mashed potatoes, they would make scalloped potatoes to go with the meat.
Before I could even ask about the pie I always made, she mentioned that as she had cut back on sweets, she hoped I wasn't too upset if we just skipped dessert altogether. I held my tongue when I really wanted to lay into her that with all the sex she was having, she would surely burn off any new calories within minutes.
I wanted to be mad at Jolie, but I knew she was just going along with what her boyfriend wanted. Once again, Dirk was to blame for my sour mood. I'd not yet confronted him about the incident from last Halloween. Each time I psyched myself up, something happened that made me lose my nerve. Maybe I hoped in the back of my mind that Jolie would move out to be with him...or break up, either option solving the problem.
But a year later, here we still were. Him silently rubbing it in my face with his mere presence that he'd gotten one up on me, coming and going as he pleased. Me letting him. And Jolie none the wiser.
I didn't sleep well that night due to the usual, boisterous theatrics of the oblivious couple in the next room. Add to that the absence of my parents, boyfriend, and favorite holiday dinner. All of it culminated in me being a little on the cranky side when I crawled out of bed Thursday morning.
To add insult to injury, I found the kitchen a mess and Jolie and Dirk making out—possibly more—on the couch. My couch. Which had been delivered just two weeks ago. The one I'd gone without spending beyond bills and minimal groceries for six months so I could afford it. And now, their half-naked bodies were rolling all over the plush, suede cushions, the pillows discarded over the back of the couch and scattered on the floor.
There were no words that seemed to satisfy what needed to be said. I was standing in an alternate reality. A dream world. That's what it was. It had to be. Because I felt...nothing.
