Mistletoe Mistress

Greetings, Readers! I'm back with a series I've been working on since last Christmas. Have a happy new year! These chapters will be released with less time, now that I'm writing more than I ever have. I owe it all to you! All characters are the consenting age of eighteen or older. Dialogue may not be grammatical, because it's based on the character's region. Enjoy!

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I've been a latchkey kid for years, and I am grateful that my best friend's family treats me like their own daughter. My best friend Allison lives two houses down from me in the cul-de-sac that was three blocks from our high school. We walked to school together every day, and were inseparable since freshman year.

The gratitude for her family happened shortly after I turned eighteen and my parents started their retirement. They explained that, now that I was an adult, they were going to enjoy their time as a couple and travel. They would leave me an allowance for every week they were going to be gone, and they would maintain the utilities, insurance, and my car payments. They asked me to keep up with the house maintenance, with the exception of needing to hire services for serious issues. I had my own car and could get around just fine. I remembered the first weekend that my parents went away. A single party burned through my entire week's allowance.

That was a hard lesson. If I planned to make this privilege work, I had to be frugal. My parents were proud that I kept up my end of the bargain. As a result, they stretched their traveling time more and more. At Thanksgiving of this year, they mentioned they were planning another long vacation to Paris, France for Christmas and New Year's. They asked if I wanted to come along. I didn't like the idea of going to a largely romantic location being a third wheel to my parents. I told them I'd prefer to spend Christmas with Allison's family.

Grateful that they could enjoy the city to themselves, they threw in a cash bonus on my allowance for that month, and we celebrated the holiday together the week prior to Christmas. I largely spent my time at Allison's for dinner, which let me bank-roll my allowance for frivolous purchases.

I grew close to her parents, but especially Allison's father. He enjoyed watching the same television shows that I did, which meant that we talked plenty during the times we were left alone in the living room to enjoy the shows. There was a friendliness that seemed to grow each time we talked, but I could feel a spark from my end.

Tonight, I went straight home to clean the house thoroughly, rather than joining Allison and her family. Since I was going to be with them for Christmas eve and day, I wanted the house spotless the night before. I told Allison about it, but I guess she didn't tell her parents at all. Around seven o'clock, there was a loud pounding at the front door while I was cleaning the living room. I turned down the music on my boom box and walked toward the foyer.

I was wearing a pair of knee high toe socks, striped like candy canes, a pair of high cut Christmas green pajama shorts, and a Candy Cane striped tank top. My long, brunette hair was swept up into a messy bun, and I wasn't wearing any makeup. I answered the door to see Mr. Richards in a black winter coat, thick-cut jeans, and a pair of black working boots.

"Hi, Mr. Richards. Is everything okay?" I asked. The cold Chicago wind slapped the front of my chest. My nipples poked through my tight-fitting tank top. He concerningly swept his gaze over me, and I side-stepped so that he could come in.

"I came over to make sure you were alright. You didn't come home with Allison and we thought something was wrong," he explained, "is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah! I'm fine!" I exclaimed, shaking my head and chuckling, "I guess Allison didn't tell you that I was gonna stay home tonight and make sure the house was clean."

We smiled at each other and I closed the door behind him. The smell of Lysol lemon lingered in the air, and I probably looked like a hot mess at this moment. Mr. Richards was much taller than me, standing at about 6'2" compared to my height of 5'5". Unlike a lot of the men that were fathers in the cul-de-sac, Mr. Richards was the youngest in his late thirties. He and Mrs. Richards were very young when they had Allison.

His hair was short, silver-blonde, and cut in a pompadour style. His face was easy to look at, having a younger appearance compared to the other fathers. He had a little more wear around his eyes from the hours he spent grinding away at his job as a furnace repairman. Even when he had time off, Mr. Richards spent a lot of it in the basement of his house where he had his den. We weren't allowed down there, but I was curious as to what it looked like.

Having seen him relaxing at home, he was lean-muscled, which led me to believe he may have had a Bowflex in his den. Allison and I were close as best friends because I never openly admitted to her that her dad was hot like our other friends have in the past. Some of them went so far as to call him fuckable, which often grated on her nerves. It made her wonder how many were trying to get close to her dad with her friendship. I valued her over my feelings, but even I couldn't deny the excitement building in my tummy that I was alone with him.

"Good. We're about to have dinner, so are you gonna stay here tonight, then?" He asked, sliding back his coat sleeve to check his watch for the time.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. I already had dinner tonight and once the dishes soak, I'm just gonna watch TV and crash after that." I assured him. He nodded gently and passed a precursory glance over the house, making sure nothing was out of place before returning to me.

"I wish you could tell Allison to do more around the house. Feels like pulling teeth to ask her to clean anything." He said with a chuckle. I laughed softly.

"I doubt I could. I know she can get pretty lazy." I joked.

"I'm gonna tell her you called her lazy." he teased, opening the door. I laughed and quickly rushed the door, slamming it closed and putting my back against it.

"No! I take it back! Don't tell her!" I said, full blush and smiling as Mr. Richards kept his hand on the door knob. The energy between us stirred excitement in my veins. I bit my lower lip, my eyes holding with his and he laughed at me. He rested his other hand on the door to box me in. Perhaps the spark wasn't only on my end.

"So, you want me to keep a secret from your best friend, hm?" he asked playfully. My heart was racing. Color and heat filled my cheeks as Mr. Richards leaned into my personal space. My thoughts derailed. I couldn't stop looking between his piercing eyes and his strong lips, wishing that I could kiss them.

"Maybe," I spoke softly, "are you gonna get me in trouble?" Parroting his playful tone. I slid along the side of the door to try and escape, and he maneuvered to press his front against mine. I squealed a girlish giggle from my soft pout, and my amber eyes widened with excitement. Now he was glancing between my lips and eyes.

"Oh, you're already in trouble, Madison," his husky voice swept shivers down my spine. I raised up onto my tiptoes as he leaned in. I was certain that my lower lip was turning a darker shade since I couldn't stop biting it. Mr. Richards had never done this with me before, and having known him for so many years, this flirty side of him was exciting.

"Mm, well if I'm already in trouble, then I guess I can't talk my way out of it, hm?" I teased. I could feel the warm breath from his nose tickling against my neck. I held still when it was clear that he wasn't going to stop leaning in.

"Who said you should talk your way out of it?" He whispered softly, closing the inches between our countenance. I felt the warmth of his lips touch over mine and I closed my eyes.

My eyes opened when he pulled away, and there was a pause to see each other's reaction. slowly, I raised my hands to his coat and pulled the large buttons apart until it was opened. I took my time moving my hands to close around his back to let him pull away. He leaned in once more without hesitation. My eyes closed when my mouth cupped against his.

Our breathing was deep and I clutched my hands over his back. My nipples firmly pressed against his warm chest. He dropped his hands to slide under my heart-shaped ass and clutched the thick meat of my glutes into his palms. I moaned against his mouth, and he lifted me off the floor. Wedging me against the front door, I bound my legs around Mr. Richards' waist, letting him grind against me.

"Mmm.." I sighed and closed my arms around his shoulders while we made out. I could feel the outline of his jeans tenting, his hard rod stiffened and pressed against my dampening center within seconds of our rubbing. God, this was a dream come true. I often though about the kind of lover Mr. Richards would be. Even at slumber parties in our earlier years, Allison's friends would talk about the things they wanted to do with him once she fell asleep. I never admitted to anyone that I wished for this, but that didn't stop me from fantasizing. As far as our friend circle was concerned, I never had any feelings for Mr. Richards.

The music that was playing on the radio changed, and I drew away from the kiss, panting heavily. He peppered kisses along my neck and I tilted my head back, not wanting to unclamp my legs from around his stirring hips. I sighed fanatically to every touch on my skin. My arousal was like liquid fire inside of my groin and I couldn't hide it from him.

He moved us away from the door, carrying me over to the couch that faced the large bay windows looking into the living room. Lowering me down, he kissed me again and bore his full weight against my wanton heat.

'Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas' played on the radio station as we sunk into our passion, following the rhythm of the song. Every time he rolled his stiff groin against my sex, my moans echoed against the high ceiling. He stared down into my eyes, kissing at my cheek, lips, and neck while he was rubbing off his frustration between my spread thighs.

Mr. Richards steadied his weight on his right arm, then used his left hand to lift up the bottom of my tank top. He tucked the bunched fabric above my breasts, then leaned down to snag my right nipple between his lips.

"Oh!" My nipple was cold and hard, like a frosted icicle. His warm tongue rolled and waggled across my poking puff. I panted and raised my arms up over my head, clutching the back of the couch. He gradually clamped his teeth down.

"Aaow!" I cried out. It hurt, and he hummed in his throat, pulling away with a hard pop.

"Mmm," he was unmoved by my sounds of discomfort. He slowed his rushed mounting, and his hand spread across the swell of my other breast. Sawing the nipple between two knuckles, he'd pinch tight and tug until my nipple freed from the tight vice. Then he swiftly dropped his hand down to slap my breast with his palm.

"Nnh! God!" He roughly fondled my breast, digging his trimmed nails into the thick fat and clutching so hard that my breaths were sharp, short, and frustrated. I hated the feeling of pain, but was too aroused to say so. Each time I wanted to protest, he bore his weight down on my sex.

Mr. Richards chuckled and let go of my breast. He pressed his full weight into my body, sinking me into the couch. With another French kiss, he resumed his fervent humping between my thighs.

God, I felt so frustrated. I wanted to tear off our clothes and have him right here on the couch. I didn't care if anyone watched from the windows. Now my hips were rolling into his, and the pressure felt like lightning pulse through my groin when my clit was rubbed. I sought that spreading sensation, eager to feel it after every hard thrust of his clothed hips. The heat and smell of arousal grew as did the sound of the creaking couch beneath our rutting.

Our actions were rushed, the friction started to burn and yet I didn't want to stop. His panting was deep, the lust in his eyes was growing. Mr. Richards cupped my face and stared into his eyes as he was rutting in a rushed pace. The motions were painful, with clothing obstructing what could have been true pleasure. I could see the same discomfort that he was fighting the more he was rushing this.

Reluctantly, Mr. Richards slowed his motions down to a full stop. We breathed heavily, his body was dead weight against my tiny figure. He seemed defeated, but kissed my bottom lip one more time before touching our foreheads together.

"Your secret's safe with me." He whispered in his husky tone, sliding away and gathering himself. The front of his jeans were tented. Fuck, Mr. Richards was so hot. I hoped my best friend would forgive me if she ever found out about this.

"I'll see you tomorrow." I uttered with a drunk smile, sitting up on the couch. Leaving my tank top lifted over my chest, he smiled at me with a wink. Fuck, he was so sexy. He buttoned up his coat, and all told, he was only here for a few minutes once he left. A trace of his Tommy Hilfiger cologne lingered on my tank top. My nipples were redder than usual from what he did to them.

I got up and locked the door, straightened my top, then turned around to look at the house that was already clean. God, I couldn't concentrate on finishing up, but I didn't want to go over there, since it was obvious that I was sexually frustrated. I didn't know if I could stop looking at Mr. Richards or acting normal around him if I was at the dinner table with them tonight.

Keeping my distance for now, I retreated to the kitchen and approached the filled double-wide sink. As every dish was scrubbed, I couldn't stop smiling, and I didn't have any music in the kitchen to distract my thoughts away from Mr. Richards. I set soapy plates under the water to rinse, and my nipples were so sensitive to my tank top. What a bastard. My labia was so slick that I could feel the sensual friction when I was moving around the kitchen to put things away.

How was I going to handle tomorrow evening and Christmas over at their house? I would have to exercise willpower and probably pretend like none of it ever happened. That was the only way I was going to make it through the holiday with all of them as a family. A feeling of guilt surged within me, thinking about being discovered by Allison and Mrs. Richards. They had been like a sister and mother to me and to have these heated thoughts about her father filled me with shame. Why didn't I just push him away? How could I let one playful act become a moment of betrayal?

I was overwhelmed and felt my thighs turn cold. Things like this never go unpunished, according to my Catholic upbringing. I know that I wasn't going to say anything, and I know that Mr. Richards wouldn't give away his indiscretion. Despite the shame over being attracted to him, having the opportunity to make-out wasn't a regret. That made me feel worse if I thought about it for too long.

After the dishes were washed, I was watching the movie Disclosure on television, which reminded me of my interlude with Mr. Richards. I couldn't help feeling aroused, and again wanting more from my best friend's father. If it was in my ability to have him alone again, I would seize that opportunity to do more. How would we accomplish that? I couldn't just ask him to come over without raising suspicion. Checking in on me tonight was the perfect opportunity, but that was so brief, and our enjoyment was cut incredibly short. We had fire between us and I wanted to keep stroking it to see how far it would go.

Ha! Puns in my head.

I knew that I was risking the loss of my best friend and being outed as a homewrecker. Those fears alone made it difficult to want to follow through if an opportunity raised itself again.

Eventually, I got tired of thinking about it all and resumed watching Michael Douglas get his revenge on Demi Moore with full attention. As the next movie cut in after a brief commercial break, I was nodding off to the opening credits of The Fifth Element.

By late morning, I was waking up. I stretched my sore limbs from the discomfort of our stiff couch. I hopped into the shower straight away, then went downstairs wrapped in my towel to ready the coffee. I went to my room where I got dressed in a matching bra and underwear set of navy blue with cream white lace and light blue, sparkling snowflakes on it. I wore a long sleeve evergreen stretch shirt with a v-neck, my Nine Inch Nails hoodie, and flare bottom denim jeans. Toe socks that matched my underwear in blue snowy winter colors were stretched up over my calves. I carried a bag of extra clothes for the following day, then headed back downstairs.

I started thinking about Mr. Richards right away and my stomach fluttered. I forced myself to eat two pieces of buttered cinnamon toast and drink my cup of coffee. Once I did, I washed the plate and mug, turned off the coffee maker, then put on my fur lined boots. Sliding into my black puffer jacket, I put the hood up, then grabbed a few wrapped gifts sitting next to the door before I headed out. The air was chilly and the sky was clear on this wintry day in Evanston. I locked the deadbolt behind me and started down the sidewalk, carrying the presents I had bought for each family member of Allison's.

I unlocked the door to her house with my extra key and stepped inside. I tried to be as quiet as possible in case someone was on the phone. Allison entered the room from the left where the dining room and kitchen were and I smiled.

"Hey! Good afternoon!" Ally said, excitedly. I smiled back at her, and gave a half-hug since my arm was full of presents.

"Hey, Ally. I gotta put these presents under the tree." I said, walking toward the right and into their grand living room that was separated by a small landing that contained the stairs leading to the second floor. The living room archway was lined with green pine garland and white Christmas lights.

Every room in the house was painted with white trim and eggshell cream on the walls. Pictures of their three-person family were all over the place, with a lot of the photos being of Allison. Her senior pictures were in a collage that her mother made into a centerpiece in the living room over the fireplace. Some of the photo slots were blank, since her mother planned to place her graduation pictures in them.

Every corner of the room had been vacuumed and the smell of warm sugar cookies bloomed from scented candles in the living room. The faint sound of Christmas music was playing on their old phonograph and 8 track cabinet that was across from the live Christmas tree. Both were sitting on either side of the fireplace in the living room.

The three-seat tan, suede couch faced the 64-inch heavy flat screen television that was next to the phonograph with a wood and glass coffee table in the center of it all. The four foot single panel windows in the living room were always closed up with blinds to avoid the glare on the television. The matching suede loveseat faced the fireplace, which had an open space in front of it, covered by a plush holiday rug. The fireplace was propane to prevent stray embers and provide heat.

Removing my coat, I kneeled down in front of the tree. The pine was decorated with red garland, gold and silver ornaments and green lights. The top of the tree, at about nine feet tall, was a gold star. Her parents liked to keep their decorations simple. The floor was protected by a velvet tree skirt of holiday red that came out just to my knees. I was placing my presents with the others when I saw Mr. Richard's name on a present and thought about him.

I throbbed between my thighs and the heat surged through my body beneath my clothes. I drew in a deep breath and meditated to keep myself under control. There wasn't any way that I could think of us being alone without appearing suspicious, and I really wanted us to pick up where we left off last night.