Mistletoe

Nancy caught Jim’s eye from where she stood, pretending to listen to the boasting of the man talking to her. She tried not to roll with her eyes. Jim smiled and just like Nancy, returned his attention to his conversation partner; his boss. Neither of them — Jim or Nancy — liked going to these compulsory Christmas parties, but if Jim wanted to advance his career, he had to show his face for a couple of hours at least.

While they were getting dressed earlier, Jim could barely keep his hands of Nancy. She had put on a tight fitting black dress, the glittery fabric hugging her body and falling to the floor in fluent lines. Jim had watched her while she twisted and turned in front of the mirror, then pulled the dress up and stepped out of her knickers. She had declared that it was better that way, as otherwise lines would have been visible under her dress and she didn’t want to give any of the the other women at the party anything to talk about. That had been the moment that Jim realized two things: first that it would be difficult enough getting through the evening, even more so by knowing his wife wasn’t wearing any knickers, and then secondly he realized that there were no bra lines under the fabric either.

In the car on their way to the party he could barely keep his hands to himself.

All through the evening they watched each other, in such a way that their conversations were not influenced by it. They worked the room, Nancy in a circle against the clock; Jim going with the clock. Both took their time, not wanting to rush anything.

About three hours into the party, and with everyone engaged in conversations, Nancy and Jim met each other at the door of the room. One look at each other and they both knew what the other was thinking: “Let’s go home.”

Jim put his arm around Nancy’s shoulders, ready to sneak off with her, but she distracted him by pressing her body against his. He looked down at her. Her eyes held a sexy message, inviting him to do exactly what he had in mind for when they got home; for what he wanted to do before they came to the party.

Their eyes locked.

Nancy leaned even closer to him, her head tilted up, her lips offered for a kiss. He bent down to kiss her. The moment their lips met, Nancy closed her eyes. Images of them flashed through her mind. Jim tore pushed the straps of her dress down, revealing her breasts, and he pushed it further down over her bottom and allowed the dress to fall to the floor. Nancy was naked, except for the high-heeled shoes she still wore on her feet, and which gave her the length to easily kiss her husband.

Her hands reached for his pants. She unbuckled his belt, zipped him down and pulled his erection from its confines. Nancy lifted her leg, tilted her hips and guided his cock into her. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Jim wanted more. He grabbed her bottom and lifted her from the floor onto his cock. Nancy’s legs hugged around his body as she bobbed up and down on his cock, allowing him to fuck her the way she had wanted from the moment she saw the look on his face earlier that evening when he had realized that she was naked underneath her dress.

It was the moan that escaped Nancy’s mouth that brought them both back to where they were. They broke their kiss off, smiled at the people closest to them who had heard the moan and wished everyone a Merry Christmas before they turned around to get their coats.

It was only when Jim helped Nancy to put her coat on that they saw the mistletoe above the door where moments before they had kissed.

“I guess that mistletoe tried to tell me something,” Nancy said, “I know exactly how I want you to fuck me..”

© Rebel’s Notes

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