Advent Calendar (An Erotic / Erotica Paranormal Tale) (2 page)

My head came up fast, and
I woke up to find Jay Leno and his butt-chin wagging on the screen.
I looked at him, dazed, as if to ask,
"Did
you see that, man?"
Betsy had been going
down on me right under the table at a McDonalds, in an impossible
dream-squat, topless in a short leather skirt pushed up to her
waist, her legs spread wide and her ass so low her pussy was almost
kissing the greasy, dirty floor. I knew it was greasy because when
my Nikes dug in for purchase they simply slid out from under me
like they were on rails. She was mewling, sucking me like a baby,
and I'd looked across the room to see a little kid with ketchup in
his hair sitting in a high chair, banging fries on his tray and
laughing. It was surreal. I didn't know if I was aroused or
disturbed, but apparently my dick had made up his mind and was
throbbing against the mattress.

"Dude, you gotta quit!" I tried to reason
with him, putting my head back down on the pillow. It was wet from
my drool, and I flipped it over.

Call her.
Feh! Call her, yeah, right, that's just what
I
wasn't
going to
do! Tyler and I had spent the whole day playing NFL on the X-Box,
just like old times. I flipped off the TV and got up to take a
leak. I had to coax my cock a little more towards soft before I
could let go. All the damned beer we drank tonight.
Budweiser in, Budweiser out.
My head could feel it, too, a slight fuzz, good hours ago,
unpleasant now.

Call her.
My cock twitched to life again as I found myself
looking at a tube of Betsy's something-or-other sitting on the
counter. I picked it up. "Cinnamon Swirl." Sniffed.
Yeah, that’s the stuff.
It actually stung a little on the tip of my cock before her
saliva mixed it up enough to mellow it out. Kinda hot, that. I
opened it, noting the glossy ginger color, remembering the shine on
her lips, the contrasting pink of her tongue as she licked my
shaft.

"Damn." I adjusted, and insisted to no one
in particular: "I am not making a midnight booty call to
Betsy!"

Back in my room, I glanced at the clock.
Just after midnight. I was determined to crash and sleep until at
least noon. I was about to flop out on the bed when I noticed the
calendar. It was still against the wall where I'd tossed it
yesterday and, at first, I didn't register what wrong—but then it
hit me. The door to day eight was open.

"Not fucking possible." I
went and stood it up. Still nothing behind it. Just blank white
space and, I thought, maybe, the faint odor of evergreen—but that
could have been a carryover from the awful "pine smell" shit Tyler
was spraying on the artificial tree he and his girlfriend had set
up. I blinked. Several times.
What the
hell?
We'd only smoked a little! Was I
crazy, just being paranoid?

"Tyler!" I didn’t like the alarm in my own
voice. "Hey, Tyler!" I dragged the calendar after me down the
hallway. Tyler's light was still on but his door was closed. I
knocked. "Hey, man! Wake up! Lemme in!"

He staggered the door open, and I could see
a lump in his bed roll over. "Jay?" He was rubbing his eyes. "What
the hell?"

"Did you open day eight?" Suddenly I was
sure that it was Betsy in his bed. I strained to see, and sure
enough, there was a tousled length of dark hair on the pillow, the
creamy skin of an arm. I was immediately seething.

"Are you
on
something?" Tyler
looked bewildered.

"Is that Betsy?" I stepped
past him and swung the door wide. Her head lifted off the pillow
and she looked at me through half-closed eyes.
Not Betsy. Oh, shit.
For a moment I
stood outside of myself and realized what this looked like— Tyler's
crazy roommate standing in the doorway in his underwear with a
raging hard-on, carrying a three-by-five advent calendar from hell
and ranting about the door to day eight.

"Dude, I think you're sleepwalking! You need
to go back to bed." Tyler turned me around and propelled me back
down the hallway.

"Sorry," I apologized meekly. He closed my
door, shaking his head.

I put the calendar back
next to my dresser and sat on the bed staring at it for a long
time. I didn't know how long.
Am I
crazy?
Had I opened it myself and
forgotten? Was Tyler lying? Had Betsy been here? All of these
possibilities seemed implausible. I didn't want to listen to the
voice in my head. It was scaring the fuck out of me.

It didn't open itself, did it?

Did it? I didn't know and decided that I
didn't care, but I was going to throw it out. First thing in the
morning, the stupid calendar and Betsy's phone number, out with the
rest of the damned trash.

CHAPTER FOUR:
Day 9

My life will be a
cheeseburger paradise if I can just get Tyler to stop making that
bimbo-blonde giggle.
It was like nails on
a chalkboard for me every time she flipped her hair over her
shoulder and tittered. Her tits, however, were a great distraction.
I'd missed two bullseyes just watching her dancing out there,
sidling up to the other girls.
Now,
there’s a fantasy.
One of those girls just
happened to be Betsy, who I was definitely ignoring. She'd seen me
and I'd been prepared to rebuff her, but she hadn't approached me.
Which was fine with me. I hadn't called her and didn't intend to.
If I could avoid a scene, it was even better.

Watching the blonde and Betsy on the dance
floor was something, though. My second bullseye had missed by
inches because of the sight of their tits pressed close, their arms
in the air as they writhed together and—holy fuck, were they
kissing?! That's when I lost it. I had to stop just looking
peripherally and turn my head a little more to be sure, and my
premature release of the dart caught up with me. No bullseye—and
another couple moved into my line of vision on the dance floor and
I couldn't see them anymore either, damnit. The blonde came over
after that and kept trying to drag me or Tyler out with her, but I
was soundly kicking his ass at electronic darts, in spite of my
misses, and I wasn't going anywhere until this game was over.

"You're up," I said to Tyler, grabbing my
Heineken just before the blonde put it to her lips. "Hey, hey!
Cooties." I grinned at her, and she stuck her tongue out. Oh, what
a sight—a pink, pointed tease.

"Hey, if I remember right,
you guys live around the corner, don't you?"
Yeah, that’s subtle, sweetheart.
Was
it really going to be this easy? Not that it was ever really hard.
All you had to do was lower your standards, which I'd carelessly
done with this chick one very drunk night near the beginning of the
term. The memory of my puking in our sink afterward overwhelmed
whatever vague recollection I had of fucking her, but she hadn't
let me alone since. Well, if she was in for seconds, why not? I
just nodded, draining the rest of my beer. It was my turn. Ten more
points and I had this game wrapped up. The trick was, it had to be
ten.

Exactly ten.

I aimed carefully. The
blonde watched me from a bar stool, swinging a black heel off her
toe. The truth was she'd been after me for months, but since Betsy
I hadn't had much interest in other girls. Now things were
different. Damn, but her tits were incredible—a mountain of full,
fleshy spillage over a too-tight black laced-up thing. I decided
that if I made this shot, I was going to take her back to our
apartment and fuck her until Mr. Waters upstairs had a coronary or
called the police, whichever came first. It was the perfect way to
celebrate watching that dumb ass calendar swallowed up by the
garbage truck this morning.
No more Betsy,
no more games, back to business as usual.

I let the dart go, and the
board lit up in celebration.
Ten. I
win.
I collected my prize, and wished the
whole walk home that I'd listened to Tyler and taken the car, since
I didn't even get the benefit of looking at her hard nipples in the
cold with her jacket all zipped up and her arms crossed in front of
her chest like that. They sprang free in the apartment, though—no
pretenses or cold drinks, guess we'd had enough of those. She
dropped her coat near the door and pressed herself against me right
there. Her lips were as cold as mine, but inside her mouth was warm
and her tiny tongue probed against my teeth. She squealed when my
cold hands abandoned the laces on her top and just pushed it down,
bra and all, spilling her breasts into them.

God, she smells
incredible!
Whatever the hell perfume she
was wearing was intoxicating, and I dipped my nose into the swell
of her cleavage where it was stronger. "You smell great," I
murmured against her neck. She giggled, and I winced.
Note to self—don't make her giggle!

"Pheromones…" The feel of her breath in my
ear made my cock jump.

"What?" I tilted my head to look at her.

"Never heard of pheromones? Just chemicals
we give off…love scents. It's like an aphrodisiac. Careful, you
could fall in love with me," she teased.

"You've got a love scent, alright," I
agreed, kissing her, harder, digging for that tiny tongue again and
finding it.

She moaned against my mouth, responding to
my thumbs rubbing over her hard nipples. They were pale pink and
puffy. She had a true blonde's coloring, and I judged that Miss
Clairol only gave her natural hues a shine, although I wouldn't
know that for sure until I had her panties down. Her hand went for
my crotch, but I grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm behind her and
kissing her toward my room. Whether it was the beer or the cold, my
dick wasn't responding quite fully yet, and nothing killed things
quicker than a girl who thought you couldn't get it up for her. No
matter what you said, they made it all about them.

Her knees nearly buckled
as I tongue-kissed her with both her hands behind her back, but she
caught the shuffling backwards rhythm until I had her pressed
against my bedroom door. I stopped there to enjoy the exposure of
her breasts, the way her skirt was starting to ride up her thighs
as she tried to press a knee up between my legs.
Girls always forget about the testicles.
I turned slightly, shifting so that my leg was
pressed up towards the heat of her crotch, which is what she really
wanted anyway, from the sound of her gasping as she rode it like
one of the mechanical horses at the Toys R Us entrance, her skirt
getting damper by the minute.
Damn, this
girl is hot!

I turned the doorknob, making sure I had her
by the small of the back so we wouldn't spill onto the floor. We
stumbled anyway, all the way to the bed, the height of the mattress
forcing her to sit. She fumbled at my belt buckle in the dimness,
and I pressed her away, unbuckling and starting to slip my belt out
the loops.

"Mmmm, it smells good in here!"

I cocked my head, my belt
hanging. I did smell something. It was weird how you got used to
your own smells, and you never noticed it until someone else said
something. "Vanilla!" She identified it—
yep, that’s it alright.
I wondered
if Tyler's girlfriend had decided to force him into cookie-making
or something this afternoon. The blonde's hand was tugging on my
belt again, and I let her slip it the rest of the way out while I
unsnapped and unzipped.

She leaned back on her
elbows, watching me, her breasts flattening around the sides a
little the way the larger ones do. She propped her stocking feet up
on the bed—
where the hell are her
shoes?—
and opened her thighs. In the light
from the hallway, I could see the tops of her thigh-high stockings
and, to my surprise, blonde fuzz. No panties in sight.

"You are a very bad girl." I smiled.

"They're in your jacket pocket," she purred,
opening her thighs wider. "I took them off in the bathroom and
thought, if you didn't take me home, at least I'd leave you a
reminder." I realized I was still wearing my jacket. I reached in
and felt dampness. Sure enough, there was a black pair of panties.
I lifted them to my nose. She smelled incredible, strong, the way
girls do when they still have pussy hair.

I had a sudden memory of
Betsy's black panties shoved into her mouth, and my cock
twitched.
Goddamnit, man, you've got a
half naked woman in front of you. Isn't that enough?
I tried again to reason with him. Apparently not,
because it was Betsy's ass I was picturing when I turned the blonde
over and pushed her skirt up. It was Betsy's bald pussy I was
missing when I starting eating her from behind like that, spreading
her lips wide so that all I had in my mouth was smooth flesh. And
it was the memory of Betsy that made my cock so uncomfortably stiff
in my jeans that I had to slide them off.

She moaned and arched her
back, spreading her lips for me herself now. I reached underneath
her for those massive tits, swaying beneath her as she rocked,
fastening my fingers onto her nipples and rolling them. She gasped
and cried out, calling "Yes, ohhhhhhh I love that!"
So I noticed.
Her pussy
was weeping with juice and saliva and the tops of her stockings
were getting soaked with it. My tongue had been lapping long and
strong enough now that I was getting that numb-jawed feeling, the
one past the ache, where I knew however long she took to come, it
didn't matter, because I'd been transformed into the Energizer
bunny.