A naughty Christ­mas

The Star (St. Lucia) - Life Begins 2 Nite - - CONTENTS - By Sadie Love

Let’s face it; no one wants to be alone for the hol­i­days. For rea­sons un­known, how­ever, I’ve al­ways found my­self sin­gle at Christ­mas time. Ex­cept for sweet 2015! I had no idea where it would lead when I ac­cepted an in­vi­ta­tion from a ro­man­tic prospect to holiday with him in Que­bec City. I was over the moon ex­cited! There was noth­ing I wanted more than to spend Christ­mas in the com­pany of a man who sent shiv­ers down my spine. A man, with whom I shared a burn­ing, yet un­ex­plored sex­ual chem­istry!

Two weeks af­ter he is­sued the in­vite, we were off to a new city. My friend, I’ll call him Ju­lian for the purposes of this ar­ti­cle, seemed to go out of his way to shed his toughguy per­sona and was the perfect gen­tle­man all the way to our ho­tel. We drove a to­tal of eight hours on Christ­mas Day to get there, with just one pit stop at his house where we overnighted be­fore con­tin­u­ing on our way to Que­bec City. Be­lieve it or not, we were both too tired to think of any­thing to do other than din­ner. The next morn­ing I was up at the first glim­mer of light. Fight­ing the urge to climb on top of him for an early morn­ing romp, I picked up a pil­low and whacked him with it in the head.

“This is no time to sleep!” I an­nounced mat­ter-of-factly. “This is our Christ­mas road trip va­ca­tion . . . our first va­ca­tion to­gether!”

Truth be told, trav­el­ling to a place even colder than the North Amer­i­can city we were used to didn’t sound like much of a va­ca­tion, but thoughts of the fire­works in our im­me­di­ate fu­ture had me rear­ing to go. I knew ex­actly how I wanted our weekend to un­fold, the things I wanted to do to him, and him to me . . . I wanted to sa­vor those thoughts, not rush things.

The morn­ing of our trip I let him go back to sleep twice while I sipped on Cam­pari and or­ange juice for break­fast. I had him his own glass the minute he was fi­nally awake.

“You’re not playing any games with this va­ca­tion,” he laughed ten­ta­tively tak­ing his first sip. “What is this stuff?”

“Cam­pari,” I smiled, bounc­ing up and down on our bed like some tod­dler gone wild. “A Looshan tra­di­tion.” Min­utes later, I said “Ok, now let’s get this party on the road!”

My ex­cite­ment did not fade once we got to our des­ti­na­tion. For the three days and two nights we ex­plored the city to­gether, went out to din­ner, and found our way to the ho­tel’s pri­vate Jacuzzi. There we made out to the point of no re­turn. On our sec­ond night he pulled out all the stops. Bub­bly in a bub­bly bath (I re­mem­ber think­ing), an in­ti­mate Christ­mas gift ex­change, and then the most sen­sual back mas­sage imag­in­able. Af­ter that he lit some can­dles, re­filled my cham­pagne glass, and got his playlist go­ing. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to know where we were headed next.

What a time to take my foot off the gas pedal. We’d waited for­ever for this mo­ment of alone time, and now it was here . . . Sud­denly ques­tions were som­er­sault­ing in­side my head, one on top of the other: What if all the wait­ing proved fruit­less? What if my ex­pec­ta­tions proved too high? What if he turned out to be lousy in bed? As if he’d read my thoughts and didn’t want to hear them ex­pressed, he gen­tly placed a fore­fin­ger on my lips, while his other hand con­tin­ued to ex­plore my body.

For a change my story has a happy end­ing. Suf­fice it to say that night he owned me un­der the sheets. It was un­like any­thing I’d ever ex­pe­ri­enced! De­spite my worst fears, he was ev­ery­thing I dreamed a man might be. I learned there was no need to be in con­trol with a man who knew just what it took to take a woman, men­tally and phys­i­cally, to places she never knew ex­isted. I knew at last what it re­ally meant to let go. Small won­der that I’m pray­ing that line about light­ning never strik­ing twice in the same place is a bunch of baloney. What’s more I take this op­por­tu­nity to wish you this Christ­mas the same as I wish my­self!

Happy Hol­i­days!

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Saint Lucia

© PressReader. All rights reserved.