December 16th, 2016

Advent Calendar for Grown-ups by Alexandra Iffpair of pumps

“More Than Just a Pair of Pumps”

My kitchen slash living room is one open space and so I walk to the far end of my kitchen area, leaving him standing by the large windows.

“You are not having one, are you?”

“I am,” I open the cupboard and take out a glass. Then I reach for the fridge door to open it.

“Miss Parker, I want you sober.”

His voice is all of sudden deeper, and darker. It takes me a few moments before I reply.

“Why is that?”

Acting nonchalant, the butterflies in my belly flutter around like crazy but nevertheless, I pull the bottle of white wine from the fridge and slowly I pour myself a glass, steadying my hand.

In an instant he’s next to me; he takes the glass from my hand and places it on the kitchen top.

“You tell me.”

I remain still, as if I expected all of this, afraid to move or to resist him. Placing his hands on my shoulders, he gently turns me around, away from him. I’m staring at my fridge right now and, knowing he can’t see me, I close my eyes, fully surrendering to the moment.

“Do you think you’re sober enough?”

I nod but I’m sure he hasn’t seen me. His hands slide down the sides of my body, delectably tracing my curves.

Then he reaches for the hem of my dress and he starts tugging it gently up. His palms, now gliding up my body, feel warm and smooth on my skin.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt anyone’s hands on me. Wanton, and impatient, I turn around, searching for his lips; I want him, I want whatever he has planned for me. I’ve never had anyone watching me with such a debauched promise in his eyes. I want some of that!

He smirks at my frustration and continues, reaching my waist; his thumbs entering my red zone. Slowly he grazes the sides of my breasts as carnal need whirls in my head. Again, impatiently I lift my arms and allow my dress to be lifted over my head, and dropped down on the floor.

He’s watching my every move like a hawk; his eyes never leave mine, even though I’m standing naked in front of him bar my white panties. Then he takes a step back and takes his t-shirt off; the lean, perfect ridges of his stomach muscles suddenly are all I see.

“Kiss me,” I plead, I’m not used to standing naked in front of anyone, but he just reaches out with his hand and runs his thumb over my lips; he glides it across, slowly wetting it with my saliva and then inserts it in my mouth. I’ve never pleased anyone orally before and I’m not sure what he wants but with my insides on fire, my body is my beacon, it walks the path that he’s crafting. How he does it I cannot comprehend.


He takes his wet thumb out of my mouth and, glides it from my shoulder down to and over my left breast, softly touching my skin but skipping past my pebbled nipple deliberately. He does the same with my other breast and by now, fuck, I’ve arched my back so much it hurts.

I can’t take this anymore; I take his hand and guide it to my breast.

“Touch me.”

He faintly smiles.

“Nobody has ever had to say that to me.”

I take his other hand and place it on my other breast.

“I am sober. Don’t you want me?”

“You have no idea how much.”

“Then why…”

“What’s the rush?” he whispers.

With his hands on my breasts, he starts kneading them gently; my hardened nipples rub against his palms, but they need more. I close my eyes and tilt my head sideways, accentuating my neck, hoping he’ll get the message. I smile when I feel his hot lips on my skin. Each little kiss feel like a winter flower coming in bloom under his touch. Last thing I sense with my eyes closed are his fingers, tangling in my hair as he pulls my head toward him. The moment our eyes meet and I start drowning inside them again, a sharp slap over my breast, followed by a tug wakes me up, rouses me; I clench my teeth and moan.

Breathing rapidly, I’m not sure what just happened but the foreign flash burn that ensues inside my body is something I want more of.

Another slap over my other breast, followed by a long tug makes me lose my mind even more.

“Hi,” he says darkly.


Everything slows down again. He hovers over my lips, inhaling the air I breathe, waiting for me to part my mouth, and he kisses me, our tongues entwining into an unhurried dance.

He holds my body with his kiss, and guides me backwards into my bedroom. In one hand he cups my breast and kneads it tenderly. Then he squeezes my nipple again, tug it until I moan in pain before letting it go.

Wh-what is happening? I feel as if he fucked me already, but he only just touched me. I know I’m behind on everything, but how the fuck did the foreplay get so…so….good?

Having stopped by the bed, he tosses the pillows on the floor.

“Come here, Miss Parker,” he takes my hand. “Lie next to me.”

“Please, it’s Trinity.”

“Trinity,” he smirks. “It’s time we get to know each other better.”