Merry Christmas Eve.
I toasted myself by the roaring fire as I hoisted my glass of merlot in a solo tribute to holiday cheer.
I glanced at the clock on the mantle. 6:19 PM. My two-year-old black lab, Colby, nestled himself further into my lap, forgetting as always that he weighed ninety-nine pounds and was far from a cuddle dog.
My teenage son was at his mom's house in Virginia for the next week, and it was just me and Colby until New Year's Day.
This is precisely why adult dating sites were invented, for times like these.
I clicked on the laptop and began to click on the menu choices. Let's see...ages 45 to 54, within a twenty-five mile radius of my zip code. Oh, and only those profiles that are currently online, of course. That was my favorite feature of this particular web site. You could see which curious women were simultaneously online with you.
And on Christmas Eve, let's face it, the chances were fairly good that those peeking back at me were similarly alone and, if the fates allow, horny.
I was on my third page of profiles when the first instant message came across the screen. That didn't take long, I mused, glancing at my watch. Less than ten minutes for the first communication. This was the best $39.99 per month I ever invested, I thought to myself for the umpteenth time.
The profile name, which shall remain anonymous for purposes of this saga, was enticing enough in and of itself itself. I recognized it from one of the profiles I had just perused.
A light-skinned, green-eyed African-American nurse from Norristown whose prose said something about knowing just how to prescribe treatments. She certainly had the brick house body to back up that pseudo-medical pronouncement, especially a set of tits that she wasn't shy to emphasize on her photos.
I confess to having closely scrutinized her assets on my initial browsing, but declined to say hello under the premise that half of the brothers in Montgomery County had probably sniffed after this mocha MILF. Besides, I had a time-tested theory, which albeit was a little short-sighted at times, that the best way of enhancing your chances for a "match" (i.e. 'spontaneous fuck') was letting the woman initiate the contact.
That was my second favorite feature of this gold mine of a mating site. You could instantly see who had viewed your own profile. It was simplistically genius cyber voyeurism, early twenty-first century style.
And so I read her IM, a happy holiday greeting if ever there was one.
"Merry Christmas Eve, handsome. I saw you peeking at me, naughty boy."
There IS a Santa Claus, I thought, as Colby nestled his nose under my arm, vying for my attention. I typed my reply.
"Guilty as charged, gorgeous. And we're practically neighbors, too. We should go caroling together. Or something." Her address was the next town down, no more than ten minutes away.
She got right to the heart of the matter in her next message. Anyone who tells you that race isn't a deal-breaking topic to most is either naive or lives in Iowa. Which is sort of redundant.
"And here I thought you passed me by because I'm black. If so, your loss, sugar."
I took the bait and decided to raise the ante. If you've read some of my other stories, you'd know that race wasn't an issue for me when it comes to good-lookin' women. As a wise man once said, "They're all pink in there somewhere." Not exactly classy, yet not inaccurate, either.
I hit the keyboard. "Wait. You're black!?!? I hadn't even gotten above those beautiful tits yet to notice. Wow, you're right, you ARE black! Even better!"
I held my breath as I waited for her response, hoping that my brazenness didn't scare her away already. If I learned one thing about these electronic back-and-forth banters, it's better to find out right away if you're dealing with a player.
She was a player.
"LOL! Handsome and witty. And you have good taste, too. My name is Evette, by the way. Friends call me Eve. Let's chat."
And so we did, carrying on a prolonged IM that escalated in flirtatiousness with every blip on the screen. Eve was an empty-nester, having two daughters. One was twenty-five and had just had Eve's first grandchild, and the other in college who was spending Christmas Eve at her boyfriend's family's house. So, Eve let it be known that she had no plans for this frigid holy night until around 10 AM the next morning, when her daughters would come to visit on Christmas morning.
That sounded like an invitation of sorts to me, as well as an opportunity. So, I asked. What the hell? That's what Internet sites were for on Christmas Eve, right?
"Well, Eve, since you're so close, why don't you come over and we can give each other a present or two?"
"Well, Johnnie, what did you have in mind? Do you have any stocking stuffers for me?"
"I think I can scrape up something that will fit just right, Eve. Depends what type of stockings you have. Do tell."
There was a delay that was longer than usual. Eve typed a lot faster than I did, so I was a bit apprehensive when I didn't get a reply for about two long minutes. Every other response came almost instantaneously.
"Sorry, I had to go look at the selection. Since 'tis the season, how about red fishnet with lacy garters?"
As if I wasn't hard enough already conversing with this sexy chocolate vixen, my dick took on the texture of an oversized candy cane. Just craving to be licked.
"That's a very festive color, Eve. And since 'tis this is also the season for giving, I think I'd place the mistletoe in all the right places. See, I have sort of an oral fetish, if you're into that. Waddya say? Coming over for a holiday party?"
Her reply sort of startled me, I admit. It sounded ominous for my chances of holiday pussy cheer tonight. Had I fucked it up again, unwittingly?
"Is that all you want, Johnnie? Just a one-night fuck and suck session? Is that what you're looking for?"
Again, Eve typed much faster than I did. Before I could reply, she added (thank goodness), "Because that sounds just about perfect. I'm not into anything beyond the morning, but I am incredibly horny tonight. Give me your address. I'm going to shower, accessorize appropriately, and I'll be there in an hour."
********************
Colby barked when the doorbell rang at precisely eight o'clock, his canine instincts telling him that his cozy evening plan as a lapdog with daddy was a moot point. We had company, pup. Less than two hours from logging on, there was an order of steaming hot caramel pussy delivered right to the door.
(By the way, in the electronic 'dating' world, yes, sometimes "it" really does happen as easily as this. Not always mind you, not by any means. But if you don't mind being rejected many more times than not, well, you never know until you ask, thanks to the wonders of the web, a gift that must have been arranged through Santa's network. He IS connected, ya know.)
Eve was as advertised, a bit thicker than anticipated perhaps, but not heavy, not by a long shot. She was all woman, a mature hard-body, adorned in a candy-apple-red low-cut button down silk blouse that peered out between the open leather overcoat she was wearing and accentuated a pair of tits that looked like they were footballs smuggled in two of Santa's extra-large sacks.
Her light greenish brown eyes twinkled in the darkness, her dark curly hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, and her smile was as bright as the Northern Lights. It was the smile of a woman who wasn't disappointed at the sight of the man greeting her in his doorway. The man with the appreciative bulge in his pocket. Me.
"Merry Christmas, baby," she said, adjusting the straps of her pearls that hung between her ample cleavage. "Are you going to be a wise man and invite me in, or should I just go look for room at another inn?"
I took her by the hand, closed the door behind us, and gently pinned her torso against the door, pulling the coat from her shoulders as I did so. Our lips locked in a gentle, soft kiss at first, exploring tentatively. Her full lips were soft and coated with almost a cinnamon-flavored lip gloss. I opened my eyes as our tongues danced to see the small glitter of sparkles on her sepia-hued cheeks, now flushed with desire as she pressed her firm, full tits into my chest as our kiss escalated in intensity.
Eve grabbed the back of my head with her hand as my one hand climbed up to her chest and began to softly touch the mound between her orbs. My other darted down to her waist, which I noticed for the first time was covered in a tight black mini skirt. I caressed her lower thigh below the skirt and felt the unmistakable texture of silky lace. Yes, those were fishnet stockings, all right.
I lifted her skirt so that it was inching up towards her navel and began to knead my hand along her bare buttocks. She groaned into my ear as I felt her hand release from my skull and lower down my own body, separating it from her own for just a few seconds, until she found her target.