Advent Calendar (An Erotic / Erotica Paranormal Tale) (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX:
Day 20

It was driving me crazy!
I'd been smelling them all day—those candies that the old guy on TV
always keeps in his pocket for his grandkid, those Werther's ones,
butter rum or whatever they were. I'd actually checked my damned
pockets while I was taking my history final (
who the hell knew the five major causes of the second world
war, I mean really, could we narrow it down some
more?
) because the smell was so strong, I
was sure there were some in there.

I forgot about it when
Betsy finally answered her cell. I just kept hitting redial on the
walk home from class. She agreed to meet after she was off work at
the book store. I couldn't get enough of her. Smelling those
candies had made me hungry, and I grabbed four slices of bologna
and two slices of cheese out of the fridge. Line of mustard down
the middle, fold, gone in three bites.
Yum.

The smell hit me as soon
as I opened the door.
Werther's
again!
Wow, it was strong! It seemed like
the smells got stronger with every passing day. I hadn't noticed it
this morning before I left, but day twenty was open. She was right.
I didn't have to open them. They just opened all by themselves. I
stripped down to my jeans and flipped on the TV. QVC.
Flip.
Animal
Planet.
Flip.
Discovery Channel.
Hey, dung
beetles! Cool! Flip.
TNT.
Reruns of Dark Angel. Now we're talking!
Jessica Alba was hot—those full lips and dark
eyes—and her genuine smile was so like Betsy's.

I liked watching her mouth
move.
Whew, she’s got a hot little
body.
Had to love goth girls, all dressed
in black. My cock, no longer my mortal enemy, was pressing against
the seam, asking for release. I unzipped, relieving a little
pressure.
Better.
I hadn't intended to jerk off, but when I muted the TV and
just watched her, she reminded me even more of Betsy, and the more
I imagined Betsy, the harder I got. Vicious circle. I eased my cock
out of my underwear, nudging my jeans down a little.
A few strokes to warm him up before Betsy gets
here won't hurt.

Somehow I got lost in a fantasy of Betsy
bent over our living room couch in some dark goth-girl outfit. I
was fucking her standing up, bending at my knees to get some good,
deep thrust action. The best part was the black or purple lipstick
she was wearing. I'd never seen her wear it, but my imagination
seemed to know just what she'd look like in it, and my cock really
seemed to respond to it. I had to squeeze tight at the tip a few
times to slow myself down. Damn, why was it so hard to stop once
you got started?

The fantasy shifted, and now she was sucking
me with that dark-rimmed mouth—oh fuck, that was too hot. I heard
myself whispering, "Yeah, baby, that's fucking good, suck it,"
thrusting up in my hand/her mouth, watching her dark lipstick smear
down my shaft. Hand in her hair, fucking her throat now, "Take it,
Betsy, take it you little cockwhore!" Lost in the fantasy, my voice
grew louder.

"Cockwhore, am I?" Betsy's voice from the
doorway made me jump and, I am ashamed to say, I'm pretty sure I
screamed like a girl, instinctively grabbing for something to cover
myself, my heart hammering.

"Jesus!" I was panting, both from my wank
and from the scare. "Could you knock?"

"Was I sucking you?" she murmured. It was
the first time I noticed that she had her hand stuck down her under
her skirt. My erection, beginning to wane, returned with a
vengeance when I saw her hand moving between her legs.

"Yeah," I admitted, grinning sheepishly.
"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough." She came over to the bed,
pulling her skirt up to her waist. Red panties, and I could see a
damp spot on them, right where her fingers were moving underneath.
"Keep going," she encouraged, nodding toward my stiffening cock. I
did, grabbing and stroking, watching her hand move faster in her
panties. She pulled her turtleneck up above her breasts, and pulled
down one bra cup so she could tweak her nipple.

"I want to see your pussy."

She smiled, pushing her panties down, the
crotch catching between her lips as she tugged. I was jerking with
my left, but my right hand went immediately for her pussy, my
fingers finding her hole and pressing up into her. She sighed,
still concentrating on her clit, her other hand, palm flat, rubbing
against her nipple. My fingers slipping in and out of her reminded
my cock what he was missing. Pre-cum was making it a slicker,
sticky affair.

"Take your clothes off.”

She did, quickly pulling off her shirt, her
bra. She hesitated a moment at her skirt and panties. She gave me a
mischievous little smile and turned around, bending over and
lifting her skirt, giving me full view of her smooth little
clamshell. She was glistening wet. She must have been watching me
for a while. She slid her panties the rest of the way off, and
spread her legs further, opening her pussy with her fingers,
showing me.

My hand was like lightning on my dick now,
nothing but a slippery, slapping blur. "Don't stop," she whispered.
"I love watching you do that." I groaned, seeing her finger herself
and lick her lips as she watched me over her shoulder. She was
fucking herself with three fingers now, and she slowly backed
toward the bed. As soon as she was in reach, my hand was on her,
roaming over her smooth, round ass, spreading her wetness over her
thighs.

"Hold still." She slipped her fingers out of
her pussy and moved to sit on the bed. Or, at least, that's what I
thought she was doing. But as she backed up and positioned herself
directly over me, I realized what she meant to do, and I held my
cock steady, breathless. I was still stretched out on the bed, and
she was hovering over me at a direct perpendicular, lifting her
skirt and bending like she was about to take a pee. She sighed when
she felt the tip of my cock touch her lips, and she sat fully down
onto me, glancing over her shoulder to look into my eyes. Her
skirt, a sleek, black, shiny thing, brushed against my belly and
thighs. She wiggled on me and I groaned, feeling my cock shift
inside of her.

"You have to help me a little." She leaned
up slightly, balancing herself with her hands on the edge of the
bed. I nodded, turning toward her as she slid up my shaft and back
down again. The position alone was enough to push me more than
halfway there. Couple that with the fact that I'd already been
jerking for half an hour before she showed up, and I knew I wasn't
going to last very long. I was going to try to hold out long
enough. We caught a quick rhythm, her fucking back on me like that
as fast as she could. I lifted her skirt to her waist, holding it
there, watching her ass slam into me and her thighs work. The
muscles were long and tight, and they flexed like she was running
as she rode me. She was working hard, her body starting to
accumulate a fine sheen of sweat. I could feel it on her ass and
the backs of her thighs as she fucked me.

The best part was watching her face in the
mirror over the dresser. Her eyes were closed, her expression a
cross between pleasure and determination as she vaulted up and down
on my cock. I slid my hand up her back, grabbing a handful of that
long, dark hair, and pulling her head back slightly. She gasped and
growled as I used the leverage to thrust up harder into her,
feeling myself nearing my breaking point. Her head back, her throat
exposed like that, her mouth slightly open, she was the most
beautiful thing I'd ever seen. She whispered something
unintelligible, almost like chanting, and the breathy sound and
cadence of it coupled with the heat and squeeze of her on my cock
was more than enough. That was the image I came to—Betsy completely
abandoned and writhing against my crotch, murmuring over and over
something I couldn't even understand. I don't think I'd ever come
so hard, and with every wave, just as I thought it was over, her
pussy would squeeze me, pulling me deeper, and I would give her
more of me. It went on and on, as if I could give her all of
me.

When she curled up beside me and feathered
kisses on my lips, I swore she tasted like Werther's candy. I found
myself asking her, impossibly, "Do you want to come to my family's
for Christmas?" and she smiled dreamily and said, "Maybe. We'll
see."

CHAPTER SEVEN:
Day 25

There was nothing but lame
ass Hallmark shit on TV. I was tempted to go play the X-Box but
most of our games weren't much fun without two players and Tyler
had left yesterday to spend the week with his family. I stopped
flipping channels to check my watch. Betsy was supposed to pick me
up. Dinner and presents at my mom's started at two.
Oh great, a Very Fucking Brady Christmas.
Perfect holiday fare. Ok, so Marsha was hot, but
she was blonde, and I wasn't into blondes anymore.

My cell vibrated in my pocket, sending a
jolt straight to my balls. I grinned. It had to be Betsy. I flipped
it open without looking and said, "Hey sexy, you coming?"

"Oh... uh... Jay?"

"Yeah...?" I sat up, not
recognizing the voice.
Oh shit, did I just
call my Aunt Sylvia sexy?

"Hi, Jay. I was just calling to wish you a
Merry Christmas." I couldn't place the voice, but it wasn't Aunt
Sylvia. This girl was young.

"Well, thanks..." My mind was racing. "You,
too."

"You don't know who this
is, do you?" she asked.
Fuck.
Was I going to have to admit it? Wow, she sounded
really disappointed. I felt bad, but I didn't say anything. "It's
Evie. You know, from the bar."
The blonde.
That night, oh my god, she left crying and I let her walk home in
the cold.

"Yeah... listen... hey...
about that night... I wasn't... did you... make it home ok?"
Christ, that was pathetic.
I cringed.

"Oh, it was fine. My girlfriend was still at
the bar, remember?”

Betsy?
I remembered them dancing together.

“
Anyway, I just wanted to
call and say Merry Christmas."

"Well, thanks." I muted the TV, watching Jan
talk to Cindy—who couldn't possibly be the same chick, but she was
pretty hot, so who cared? "So what are you up to today?"

"Oh, nothing, really. My family isn't in
state, and I couldn't afford to fly home. I'm just hanging around
in the dorms." God, she sounded sad.

"That sucks.”

"Yeah, well... I'm used to it. So what about
you?"

"Oh, my mom always has dinner for me and my
brother." I didn't want to tell her I was taking Betsy. Why add
insult to injury?

"Jay?" Her voice was so small.

"Yeah?"

"That night..." she began.
I cringed.
Oh, great...here it
comes.
"It was really something. I like
you... I wanted to you to know that. I really like you a
lot."

I sat there, stunned. Ok. Not what I was
expecting at all. Funny, but I liked her, too, now, all of a
sudden—a girl all alone on Christmas day.

"Well... I like you, too." I hit the power
button on the remote and watched the TV go black. I glanced at the
calendar underneath. I could still smell the cranberries. I'd been
smelling them all night long.

"You do?" Wow, she sounded happy. Really
happy. I felt suddenly guilty for no reason whatsoever.

"Yeah." I glanced at the
calendar again, and noticed it looked askew. As if it had moved, or
been moved. No, not exactly. The right side of it
looked...
what the hell? Weird!
I approached it carefully, giving it a wide
berth. Evie was talking about something—ordering pizza on
Christmas. I was tempted to ask her to my mom's. I leaned against
my dresser, and realized that the side of the calendar was
open.
Or opening.

"Listen, I wanted to tell you something
else, Jay... it's very important..."

"Hey, Evie, can you hold on a minute?" I set
the phone on the dresser and knelt near the calendar although I
could still hear her talking about something. There was a
separation between the cardboard back, and the doors on the front.
It should have been white underneath, considering it was white
behind the black doors, but it wasn't. It was black. I flicked the
edge with my finger, and it moved a little toward me, like it was
on hinges.

My heart was beating fast,
but my curiosity got the best of me. No wonder it had to be so
damned big—the whole thing was a door! I couldn't resist seeing
what was behind it. Maybe this was my payoff. This was what I'd
been waiting for as doors popped open, counting down to today. I
swung the calendar door open quickly and stepped back. Nothing.
Just blackness. It just looked like cardboard.
So much for Narnia.

"Jay?" I heard Evie's
voice on my cell. I grabbed for the phone, laughing out loud a
little nervously, but I stopped when I saw something. It was a
glimmer at first, in the middle of the calendar, like some muted
light from the inside. I reached my finger out for it, hesitated,
and then touched it. It was warm.
Whoa!
My throat felt suddenly very
dry. I looked around the room, as if to ask someone if they were
seeing what I was seeing.

"Jay?" Evie's voice again, louder. The light
grew brighter, moving from a dull gray in the center toward the
edges, like the way old TVs used to fade out when you turned them
off, only backwards, in gradual shades. I sat transfixed, like I
was seeing a painting revealed a layer at a time. I realized,
suddenly, that I knew that image, and knew it well.