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(This is an entry in the Christmas stories contest. If you enjoy the story, please vote and comment.)
Santa must love me because I’ve never had such a young, nubile present in all my life.
It was the day before Christmas and the sky hung over my house as black as cast iron. A bitter mix of snow and sleet hissed through the leafless trees in my front yard. A foot and a half of snow covered the ground; not much for some parts of the country but here in Olympia, Washington it was quite a shock. Power was out in parts of town, though not at my house, and the schools and many businesses had been closed for several days. Temperatures dipped into the single digits at night. Just getting out of my car and crunching across the snow through the arctic air was enough for me.
I’ve lived alone since my divorce a year ago. Now in my mid-forties, I found myself on this frozen night with only a crackling wood stove and a plate of plum-sauce chicken and fresh-baked garlic bread. I was just about to dish it up when I heard a tapping at the front door.
Who could possibly be here in this god-awful weather?
Walking to the door, I peered through the peephole and clicked on the porch light. The figure was so short I saw only the top of a camouflage hood.
I cracked the door and looked out. “Yes?”
A high, squeaky voice replied, “I…I’m really sorry to bother you, mister….”
In a camo jacket, baggy pants, and battered backpack, the kid looked like a street urchin from a Charles Dickens novel. Large eyes stared back at me, barely visible between a knit cap and threadbare scarf.
I squinted back, trying to get a read. “What do you want? You’re letting all my warm air out.”
“I know, it’s just…well it’s really cold out here….”
“No kidding. Why aren’t you at home?”
A gloved hand tugged the scarf down, revealing luminous hazel eyes, button nose, and cupid mouth. I suddenly realized this was a girl. Those eyes pleaded with me. Almost comically oversized, they seemed to reach out, begging for help yet somehow unwilling to compromise. Lashes from a mascara commercial guarded sparkling copper retinas that pulled me closer.
“I don’t have a home,” she said, voice shaking. “I…I’ve got nowhere to go and it’s f-f-freezing out here. Do you think I could…you know…sleep in your garage or something?”
“The garage? Don’t you have friends? Or a shelter?” I asked. I felt bad for her but I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of letting a total stranger into my house. Maybe she was a decoy and her buddies were going to come in the back any minute, or maybe she’d pull a gun. Couldn’t be too careful these days.
“N-no, I’ve got nobody. My step-dad kicked me out last week. We’re pretty new to town and the shelter’s all full. I’m just….” She didn’t finish, just stood there shivering, her breath coming in sharp, icy puffs as she wobbled from side to side like a drunk.
Aw, crap, she’s going to pass out on my front porch. I glanced at the snow-covered yard. The only tracks were mine coming from my car and her’s from the street. The wind picked up and frosty air whistled past the door.
Against my better judgment I said, “Okay, come in.” I gave her a squint. “And don’t try anything funny.”
“T-thank you,” she replied, stepping inside.
As I closed and locked the door, an unsettling idea hit me.
“How old are you, kid?”
“Turned eighteen t-t-two months ago,” she chattered.
“Don’t bullshit me. You can’t be more than thirteen or fourteen,” I said, scanning her diminutive body. “I don’t want some minor in my house. Looks bad.”
In response she dug into a pocket and pulled out a cheap nylon wallet. With a rip of Velcro she tugged out an ID and handed it to me. She pushed her hood back, unwrapped the scarf from around her neck, and tugged off the knit cap. She gazed up at me hopefully. Her pillowy lips seemed too small and her cheekbones too high to be real. Golden hair spilled over her shoulders, long and fine and shiny. Her skin was pale and I saw a faint dusting of freckles across her cheeks and upturned nose.
I glanced at the license.
“Jessica, huh?” I asked.
She nodded, waiting for my decision. Her hair and eye color matched the license. Height said five foot even. Weight 105 pounds. I think she was fudging a bit, but no doubt this was her. I did the math and sure enough, she was two months past eighteen.
“I-I’ve got nowhere to go,” she said, still shivering. “I really don’t want to be a bother, but if I sleep in this again….”
“You slept outside last night?”
“It was what? Eight degrees?”
“The shelters are all f-full. Only room for families and single moms. I stayed there a few times but last night…no luck.”
I felt sorry for her. The weather was truly wretched. But the fact that she was a girl, and a very pretty one, tipped the scales. Maybe it was sexist but I didn’t feel threatened, which was my top concern about having a stranger in my house. I had no delusions that we’d hook up though; I was twice her escort bursa age, and it would be boorish to put the moves on this poor, stranded kid. I figured I’d do my good deed and that would be the end of it.
I said, “Look, you can stay here tonight. But tomorrow you need to go.”
“I really appreciate it, mister,” she replied. “It’s really awful out there.”
“I’m David,” I said, sticking out my hand. We shook. I gestured to the coat rack. “You can hang your stuff up there.”
She shucked her pack onto the floor and hung her camo jacket on a hook. Wet, snowy boots plopped beside the door and she wriggled out of her soggy pants. Now in a gray hoodie and jeans, she seemed even smaller than before. I looked at her more closely. If I hadn’t seen her ID I would have sworn she was barely out of junior high. The oversize eyes, tiny mouth, and pointy chin reminded me of an anime chick come to life. My cock began to swell.
I saw her glance around the room, pausing at the small potted pine hung with the few decorations left over from my divorce. A single string of lights draped it and a handful of presents from my family and friends huddled at its base. It seemed like a pathetic excuse for a Christmas tree, but compared to what I imagined her life to be like, it suddenly seemed like a royal spread. The scent of the fire, and the tree, and my plum-sauce chicken hit me all at once. I thought I heard her stomach rumbling. Poor kid must be starving.
“You hungry?” I asked.
Yeah right, I thought. Aloud I said, “Look, I’ve got some chicken. I probably won’t be able to finish it all.”
“It smells delicious.”
Pointing to a giant fake bearskin rug in front of the roaring fire, I said, “Sit down. Get warm.”
“Thanks mister. I really appreciate it.”
I brought two plates and we ate together, basking in the heat of the wood stove. I glanced at her stunning profile and tried to ignore my swelling dick.
“My step-dad kicked me out,” she explained between mouthfuls. “I’m starting at the community college in two weeks. Got a full scholarship, dorm room, and everything.”
“That’s pretty impressive,” I offered.
We chatted about her plans for a while, and I told of my life as a self-employed electrician. It seemed we were warmed as much by each other’s company as by the stove.
“I haven’t eaten in a day and a half,” she said, devouring the last of the meal. “I was just wandering around. No place to go with the library closed and the shelters all full.”
Wind rattled the trees and sleet sandblasted the windows. The lights flickered.
“Might lose power,” I said, getting up to add more wood to the fire. “I’ve got candles in all the rooms in case it does.”
“Don’t use up your firewood on my account,” she said.
“I’ve got plenty,” I replied, sitting back down.
“Okay, but I’m plenty warm already.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” I replied, trying to sound disinterested.
In response she tugged off the hoodie and jeans and tossed them aside. She wiggled into a cross-legged position, our knees brushing. Tight, sky-blue long underwear hugged her curves like a second skin. The areola of her bra-less breasts made tantalizing mounds in the sheer fabric. The contours of her pussy were just as clearly outlined. I drank in every inch of her, not caring if she knew I was looking. She seemed quite relaxed around me, and certainly aware that I found her attractive. My cock throbbed and I felt a slick of pre-cum soaking my underwear. Still the age difference made me uncomfortable.
“You are really beautiful,” I said sincerely.
“My boobies are too little,” she replied, cupping her small breasts, “The boys make fun of me.”
“You look great, Jessica. Don’t believe anyone who says different.”
“You mean it?” she asked.
“Mm hmm.” I said. “Absolutely.”
She gazed at me like a child looking for guidance, but also as a young woman who knew what she wanted but didn’t know how to get it. Firelight flickered on her sculpted cheekbones and gleamed from her plump, undersized lips. Her hazel eyes stirred like pools of molten bronze.
Without meaning to, I found my fingertips tracing her shoulder. Sliding my fingers through her golden hair and gently over the back of her neck, I pulled her to me. She fell toward me without resistance.
What am I doing? She’s half my age.
A tingle coursed through me. I hadn’t planned it, but her mouth hovered inches away from mine. Her doe eyes drooped nearly closed and her breasts heaved too fast for just sitting beside a fire. I felt her breath on my face.
Unable to resist, I pressed my lips against hers.
Her lips parted eagerly and her tongue snaked out, encircling mine, probing and testing. Pulling her closer I felt the soft warmth of her lips as her tongue explored my mouth. Her fingers stroked my thigh. My cock ached.
As I held her neck with one hand, keeping her lips against mine, my other hand mapped the contours of her petite breasts. Jessica made wonderful moaning sounds into bursa otele gelen escort my mouth. Her tits felt like small mounds tipped with oversized areola. Beneath my caresses her nipples swelled into firm gumdrops. I massaged one breast and then the other, reveling in the sensation of her ripe, young flesh.
“Oh David,” she gasped, but said nothing more as I kissed her with renewed vigor.
Her hand moved up to stroke my bulging crotch. It was my turn to groan.
“That’s nice,” I whispered.
She mumbled back, “Mm hmm,” as she rubbed my crotch, stroking my rock-hard shaft and cupping my balls.
My fingers drifted south, over her flat belly. down to her crotch. Between her wide-spread legs I felt the shape of her womanhood: the hard ledge of her pubic bone, the yielding mounds of her labia, and the space in the middle where her softness offered both mystery and promise.
She caressed me harder and I did the same for her.
Rubbing her crotch made her groan louder. Throwing caution to the wind, I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of her long underwear, under her panties, and over her sparse pubes. My finger caressed her moist slit and she moaned again. I pressed the tip gently into her. Suddenly she tensed up. I thought it might be the beginnings of an orgasm but she pushed me away. Her expression seemed more embarrassed than passionate.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling my hand from her panties.
Jessica glanced away.
I said, “Look, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to….”
“It’s not that.”
Still not meeting my eyes, said, “I’m kind of dirty. You know…down there.”
“Ahhh,” I said, understanding now. “We need to get you cleaned up, then.”
“Oh yeah. I’ve got a rule in this house.”
“No stinky girls.”
She giggled, relaxing again. “It’s been four days since I had a shower. I spend most of my time hanging at the library. It’s warm but you can’t really wash off in the sink.”
I leaned toward her and wrinkled my nose. “You are kind of ripe.”
“You’re mean,” she said, slapping me on the shoulder.
“Shower’s down there,” I said, pointing to the hallway. “You jump in, I’ll bring new towels in a few minutes.”
She scrambled to her feet and proceeded to strip. I couldn’t help gawking as she peeled off the long underwear and tossed it with her other clothes. In only white cotton panties, she stood for a few moments, letting my eyes explore her exquisite body. Flawless pale skin, slender hips, tiny waist, and what couldn’t be more than B-cup breasts. A stunning example of young womanhood.
“Get on in there,” I said, cracking an imaginary whip.
Jessica squealed, rubbed her bottom, and trotted down the hall. Wanting to give her some time alone, I rinsed the dishes and put away the leftover food. The pre-cum felt slick against my aching shaft. I had certainly not anticipated my bland, snowbound evening taking a turn like this. Outside the wind picked up. I heard sleet attacking the metal gutters and bare tree branches clashing against each other. I couldn’t be happier.
After ten minutes I rapped at the bathroom door.
“Come iiiiiin,” she said in a sing-song voice.
I cracked the door and a wall of steam wafted out. Stepping inside, I shut the door behind me and set a few towels on the closed toilet seat. I could see her shadowy form moving behind the shower curtain, steam pouring over the top.
“Geez, hot enough for you?” I asked.
“It feels so nice.”
I peeked around the shower curtain. She stood there in all her young, dripping glory.
Smiling like she held a royal flush in a million-dollar poker hand, she said, “You’re kind of dirty yourself.”
“Now that you mention it….”
I yanked the curtain closed again. Tying to appear calm, I stripped off my clothes. My bobbing erection was sure to give me away. Biting my lip and thinking of disgusting things, I managed to get my cock to wilt to about half size. I stepped into the steam-filled shower.
She moved close to me, her fingers stroking my hairy chest. Her hair lay dark and plastered down her back. Enormous eyes stared up at me with longing and trepidation. Her budding breasts jutted from her narrow ribcage like newly sprouted flowers. Proud, half-dome areolas tipped her up-thrust mounds. In the heat her nipples had retracted, leaving only creases on the puffy mounds.
Steam swirled around us. My cock throbbed, fully erect again. I was past caring if she noticed.
I crushed her against me. Since she was so much shorter than me I had to crouch so our lips could meet. I kissed her with a passion that made my head swim and my knees buckle. My hands cupped her firm buttocks. I moved my thigh between her legs. She rubbed her pussy against me as her kisses grew more passionate. Then I felt her hand grab my cock. Squeezing hard, her tiny hand was barely able to encircle my dick. She began to jack me. It felt so good I had to stop her.
“Am bursa sınırsız escort I doing it wrong?” Jessica asked, gazing up at me with concern.
“You’re doing great, honey,” I said, stroking her wet hair. “If you keep it up you’re going to make me cum.”
“Cum?” she asked. “Is that, like, ejaculate?”
Just hearing her say it almost made me do it.
“That’s right, sweetheart. I just don’t want to…ejaculate yet.”
She stared up at me, a look of confusion on her innocent face.
“It’s bad manners for me to cum before you do,” I explained as I slipped my hand between her legs and gently probed her hole. “Ladies first.”
“You want me to climax?”
Is she really this innocent? “Yes honey, that’s what I want.”
I managed to get the first joint of my finger into her tight, moist hole. She moaned and spread her legs a little wider. When I got in to the second knuckle she started to tense up and rose onto her tip-toes as if trying to escape.
I pulled back a little and asked “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just…I mean, I’ve never…” she said, looking embarrassed. “Just go slow and you’ll see.”
Easing my finger back in, I soon encountered a taut membrane stretching across her warm tunnel. Holy shit, she’s a virgin!
“It’s okay,” I said as I withdrew my finger. “Like I said, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…well, I’m saving myself. You know…for the right guy?”
“I understand, honey,” I said, even though my cock was practically bursting at the thought of fucking her untouched pussy.
“You do? People make fun of me ’cause I won’t do it.”
“No, I think it’s admirable. Your first time should be special.”
“You’re sweet,” she said, then kissed me again. “I’m glad you’re not trying to force me.”
“I’ve never done that before,” I assured her, “and I never will.”
She paused, gave me a shy smile, and said, “I don’t know if you want to, but you can do me…you know…in the butt.”
“You like it back there?” I asked, unable to hide my astonishment. Convincing most chicks to try anal usually took a lot of work and large amounts of alcohol.
“I can…climax that way. I can’t get pregnant and I keep my virginity too.”
“I like the way you think,” I said, already rubbing her ass in anticipation. “I suppose we should get you all clean first.”
“Okay,” she replied, wiggling her butt in agreement.
Reaching up, I took the hand-held showerhead from the bracket and adjusted the water from a spray to a single pulsating stream. In a stern cop voice I told her, “Up against the wall and spread ’em.”
Giggling, Jessica turned and clutched the sill of the small window just above her head. Steam filled the shower. She bent over at the waist and moved her feet so they were almost a yard apart. I ogled her magnificent ass. Her long hair clung to her back and she peered over a shoulder at me.
I directed the stream down her lower back and then into the crack of her firm, young bottom. Soon it shot directly against her puckered butthole. I moved it closer. Water sprayed everywhere.
“Here we go,” I warned her, then pressed the nozzle directly against her anus.
“Oooh!” she exclaimed as the water disappeared inside her. “Oh wow, I can feel it filling me up….”
I held the showerhead firmly against her and the pulsing stream of water filled her rectum. “Tell me when.”
“Oh…mmmmm…okay, that’s enough.”
I removed the nozzle and her butthole clamped shut.
“Let it go now, honey,” I told her.
“But what if it’s…messy?”
“We’re in the shower. Don’t worry about it.”
“Wellllll, okay,” she said, but nothing happened.
“Just push like you’re pooping.”
She grunted and I saw her anus flexing. Then water began trickling out. Suddenly, like a dam breaking, a torrent of water blasted out.
“Uh!” she cried. “Oooh, yeah….”
Water flooded out, splashing all over the bottom of the tub. Other than a few bits of dark material it was remarkably clear. Not surprising if she hadn’t eaten in a day and a half. After a few seconds the flow stopped.
“Good girl,” I said. “Here we go again.”
I repeated the process a couple of times to make sure she was properly flushed, then set the showerhead back to spray and returned it to its holder. Hot water pelted Jessica from the knees down. Picking up a bottle of liquid body wash, I sat down cross-legged beneath her. I squirted a puddle at the top of her ass crack and then stroked it down between her cheeks with the middle finger of my left hand. Dripping with soap, my finger paused at her hole.
“Have to make sure you’re nice and clean,” I said as I slowly inserted my finger.
After a minute or two of increasingly deep pushes I buried every inch in her rectum. Jessica groaned. In and out I thrust, feeling the hot, slippery inside of her ass.
“Ah, ah…” she said. “Oh yeah. Oh wow, that’s good.”
Her anus began to clench and release, rhythmically squeezing my finger. Her small breasts rose and fell more rapidly. Can she really get off from butt play alone? I’ve heard about women who could but I’ve never met one. I decided I would give her a bit more help. Licking a huge streak of spit onto my right thumb, I began gently stroking her clit.
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