Advent Calendar (An Erotic / Erotica Paranormal Tale) (5 page)

"Betsy." My voice was
hoarse. She was in the distance. I could see her plain as could be
now, standing at the end of...a hallway? I reached my hand just
slightly into, no fucking shit,
into
the door, and felt the cool
surface of brick or cement. I leaned my head in a little. Sure
enough. I could see where the mortar had been laid. It was a wall.
Both sides. I couldn't see a floor, but I was sure there was one,
because Betsy was standing on it way down there in the hallway. She
was holding a candle, her hand cupped around the flame to keep it
from flickering. She was smiling at me, beckoning me, and my cock
jumped when I realized that she was wearing nothing at all.
Fuck Narnia, this is Nirvana!

I couldn't walk through the door, but I
could crawl, and I ducked my head under and edged through, my heart
pounding, my eyes fixed on Betsy in the distance. She was urgent,
calling me, although I couldn't quite hear her.

"Jay?" Wow, Evie's voice sounded very far
away now. I was crawling on a cement floor, my head near the
ceiling. It was dark in here, although there was a slight glow when
I looked back into my room. The sensation made my stomach flip,
looking backward, seeing my bed, my dresser, the phone still open
on it. Ahead of me I could see Betsy, standing still, and I could
hear her very clearly now, calling me to come to her, the
flickering light of the candle warmly illuminating her breasts.

I hesitated, not liking how gray things were
growing behind me. But Betsy was calling, compelling me onward. I
could almost stand now. The further away from the door I got, the
taller the ceiling seemed to get. Perspective, I realized. Betsy
loomed larger now. I judged that I was about halfway to her.

"Jay?" I could barely hear
Evie. My room looked about the size of a television screen from
where I was standing, like I was watching a movie of my room. My
jaw dropped when my bedroom door opened, and Betsy was standing
there.
What the fuck?

She came toward the
calendar, the door I'd crawled through, grabbing my phone off the
dresser as she went, and bent down and looked inside. It was cold
in here, and suddenly it felt colder. Now I could hear Evie more
clearly. "Jay, please! Listen to me!
Whatever you do, don't go through the
door!
"

It was as if it were all happening in some
weird slow motion time-lapse. Betsy was talking on the phone, now,
as I called to her, and I saw her smile. She waved at me, and it
was just my knee-jerk reaction to wave back, totally confused. I
was listening to her talk but my brain wasn't really registering
what she was saying.

"Evie? It's Betz. It's all over... Oh, don't
cry, sweetie, this is what you wanted, remember?... I know, but I
told you about love spells and guys like him… I warned you, Evie!
Guys like Jay just don’t know how to treat a woman, and he deserves
everything he’s getting after what he did to you… Yes, but at least
you and I can start fresh. A new beginning... I'll be over in 10
minutes... Shh, it's all gonna be ok... Love you."

This can't be
happening.
My nut sack shriveled and my
balls felt like they were two tight little stones as I scrambled
toward the only light left—the light coming in from my suddenly
far-off but achingly familiar bedroom.

Then, I had an abrupt, chilling thought.

If that's Betsy... then who...?

I turned around in the darkness, and heard
the door slam behind me.

The End

ABOUT SELENA KITT

Like any feline, Selena Kitt loves the things that
make her purr-and wants nothing more than to make others purr right
along with her! Pleasure is her middle name, whether it's a short
cat nap stretched out in the sun or a long kitty bath. She makes it
a priority to explore all the delightful distractions she can find,
and follow her vivid and often racy imagination wherever it wants
to lead her.

Her writing embodies everything from the spicy to
the scandalous, but watch out-this kitty also has sharp claws and
her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take
readers to new, thought-provoking depths.

When she's not pawing away at her keyboard, Selena
runs an innovative publishing company (www. excessica. com) and in
her spare time, she worships her devoted husband, corrals four kids
and a dozen chickens, all while growing an organic garden. She also
loves bellydancing and photography.

Her book EcoErotica, was a 2009 Eppie Finalist, her
book, The Real Mother Goose, was a 2010 Eppie Finalist, her book
Heidi and the Kaiser was a 2011 Epic Award Finalist as well as her
story, Second Chance. Her story, Connections, was one of the
runners-up for the 2006 Rauxa Prize, given annually to an erotic
short story of "exceptional literary quality," out of over 1,000
nominees, where awards are judged by a select jury and all entries
are read "blind" (without author's name available.)

She can be reached on her website at
www.selenakitt.com

If you liked
ADVENT
CALENDAR
, try:

SHIVERS
H

By Selena Kitt

Eight darkly erotic and horrifically
delicious stories guaranteed to give you shivers, in more ways than
one! Stories include: The Velvet Choker, Pumpkin Eater, The Ride,
Mercy, Advent Calendar, Silent Night, The Laundry Chute and The
Gingerbread Man.

Warning: This title contains
graphic language, sex and erotic horror.

Excerpt From “Advent
Calendar” in
SHIVERS:

"So, seriously, what's the joke?" I
asked.

She was hanging her head off the end of my
bed, watching the tail end of A Charlie Brown Christmas Special
upside down.

"Don't you love the way they talk? Wah,
wahhh wahhhhh. Isn't that totally how you used to hear grown-ups?"
She lolled her head off the corner and put her bare feet up on the
wall, crossing them at the ankles.

"I still hear grown-ups that way," I
snorted, pulling my t-shirt on. "Come on, Betz, give."

"Oh, this wasn't enough for you?" She teased
me, opening her thighs and pointing between them. Her pussy lips
were still a little swollen and they glistened. I sat next to her,
my hand inevitably drawn to the wetness, rubbing the moist and
slightly sticky skin with my thumb. God, she's intoxicating.

"Everything isn't about sex, you know?" I
tried to sound serious, although my fingers betrayed me and slid
through her slit as my cock began to throb against my thigh.

She laughed--god, I loved her laugh--it
tinkled, like ice crystals forming in midair. Rolling off the bed,
she grabbed for the remote and started to flip channels. "Do you
have CNN? I have to see if they're broadcasting any other signs of
the apocalypse."

"Ha." I said. "Ha." She grinned up at me,
sprawled naked on my floor, her hair like dark chocolate streams
covering the generous swell of her breasts. "Well, if you're not
gonna tell me what it's all about, I'm not opening any more of
those stupid doors." I grabbed a new pair of briefs out of my top
drawer, shoving the advent calendar aside to do it. It toppled
toward the wall and balanced there, its first five black doors
hanging askew showing five decidedly blank white spaces.

Every morning I felt like a fool, opening a
new door in the hopes that this time, something would appear. I had
noticed a different odor each day--first the oranges and cloves,
then cinnamon, then something I couldn't identify at all, then
something that smelled faintly like pumpkin pie. I joked with her
on the phone that she had invented the world's first "Scratch 'N
Sniff" advent calendar. She just laughed. There was a different
smell today, like those red and white pinwheel peppermint candies
my grandmother used to keep in her pocket to keep us quiet in
church, but it didn't linger long. I was getting really tired of
whatever game Betsy was playing.

"Nice ass," she commented softly. I didn't
reply, tugging my jeans on. God, she pissed me off sometimes.

"Is that all I am to you?" I tossed her
jeans off my bed and into her lap. Her eyes were bright, dancing,
as she looked up at me, incredulous. I stopped, my jaw as slack as
hers. "What the fuck?" I said softly, out loud, rubbing my chin
thoughtfully. What the hell am I saying? What the hell do I
care?

"I'm gonna go home." She started to get
dressed. I couldn't see her face as she bent to slide her panties
on. I felt bad all of a sudden and then I was pissed that I felt
bad. This wasn't good at all. I watched her slide her jeans on, her
back to me, her panties caught slightly in the crack of her ass. My
cock jerked reactively, just seeing her bent over and sliding denim
up her shapely thighs. I sat on my bed, uncertain.

"You don't have to keep opening them if you
don't want to." She kissed my cheek and smiled softly before
opening my bedroom door. She must have been chewing gum because she
smelled like peppermint.

"There's no point!" I called after her.
"It's not funny!" I heard her laugh and gritted my teeth. This
wasn't gonna fly. I was done. I don't care how much she gets my
dick hard, no girl is worth this kind of hassle and
game-playing.

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