Page 113 of MistleFoe

In an attempt to push him over the edge, I swirled my finger in the mess, then stuck it between my lips, sucking it off. His hips stuttered and then started pounding sloppily, a faraway look in his blue eyes. He threw his head back seconds later, a long, low moan floating above us as his body went rigid and his dick pulsed inside me.

When it was over, he collapsed on top of me, his weight pressing me into the blankets. I sighed, wrapping my arms and legs around him and making him laugh.

“Stay a little longer,” I whispered.

“I’m in no hurry to move.”

A short while later, we cleaned up with the supplies he’d hidden under a pillow and then pulled on our boxers and hoodies.

“How about that movie?” he asked, pulling a bucket of snacks from yet another secret hiding place.

Oooh, Mike and Ike. My favorite.

“Can I sit in your lap while we watch it?” I asked as if I wasn’t going to say yes.

“If you don’t, I’ll be offended.”

A short while later, the movie was rolling, and I was cuddled in his lap with two quilts and a box of my favorite candy. “This is the best date I’ve ever been on,” I confessed.

“Same,” he replied. Then, “It’s just the beginning, Tobes. We might already be together, but I’ll never stop dating you.”

I only had one thought in that moment, and it wasn’t even to wonder what movie he chose.

Thank God for mistletoe.