Santa Baby, Dear Santa, Hi Santa,
I can explain. I mean, what had happened was… It’s a misunderstanding really. I swear I’ve been a very good girl. Not the naughty little elf you thought you saw. It was not like that. Believe me. Do you believe me Santa??? Have I told you how sexy your beard is? Are you part of the #beardgang. I know you are, all of that soft white fluffiness. I love running my hands over it, my fingers through it. I can brush it for you before you hit the road to deliver all of those presents. Speaking of presents. I have been a very good girl. Not the naughty elf you thought you saw. All of those things, the “nice girls don’t do that” things. He loves it. It makes him happy. I love keeping him happy. That’s good girl work. He loves when I kiss all over him. I start at his forehead and work my way down. The tip of his nose, his full lips. Oh god those full lips. And the bottom one…” These are a few of my fav-or- it things.” Them delicious lips of his. You have to understand, I really have been a good girl. It just looks like I’m being a bad girl. Am I really being bad if my sir enjoys what I do? … Santaahh! He can’t can’t get enough. Honestly, I can’t get enough either. He takes my legs and pushes them back towards my ears and like the good girl that I am I hold my ankles. Santa, I get the giggles when he’s around. You should see how his face lights up when he sees me Santa. That man wraps his strong arms around me. Keeping me safe, protecting me. So I take care of him. That’s good right? Sometimes we get a little naughty. Ok ok ok… Quite frequently we do naughty things. I love the reaction I get when I wear my sexy little things. My hot stilettos and dresses. The coat. Those red glasses. Red like your hat Santa. Now that I’m thinking about all of my good deeds this year, I remember why I started this
explaination letter to you. The way I see it, you handsome bearded fella you, my gift should reflect my behavior this year. My very very good behavior. I only want one thing. Well, person. I only want to be able to continue to be his good girl. His naughty good girl.
I’ll see you in a few days. There will be cookies and milk; mistletoe and kisses. I have a hat that similar to yours I may or may not have it on.
Your naughty little elf. (Ok, so it’s true, it’s for a good reason. I love him.)
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I wonder if people can smell him on my breath. If all of that protein I got this morning left a scent. I lick my lips to taste him one more time. The citrusy sweet pineapple. A black cherry tartness. Delicious remnants of delightful decadence linger in my mouth. A sweetness like no other. Not wanting to share any bit of him. I nod and smile. Savoring his taste. A whiff is all they will ever get.
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He smells so good. How he wants me. I love how he wants me. Yesterday morning, he woke me up with kisses and licks between my legs. Already somewhat awake, I heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, they stopped at the side of my bed. He pulled the covers back, pushed my legs […]
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I got it. Like, when you were in school and you knew you had mastered the lesson because you can, like second nature, without hesitation answer the professor’s question to his satisfaction. “Thank you Ms. Latimer. Now let’s move on.”
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Licking my lips I grabbed for something that felt towelish. I refused to take my eyes off of him.
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All the MAC makeup in the world could not cover what she thought she was hiding.
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I must admit that lately I have been quite lazy when it came to posting. I ran into writers block. Nothing seemed to fit or make sense. I started looking over other things that I’ve written and began to fine tooth edit those. It was just a distraction from all those words that were […]
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Originally posted on Brian Mooney:
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Most classes start with a “Do Now” or “Warm-Up.” Mine often start with a hip-hop cypher. In a cypher, students stand in a circle, spread at equal distances, and one at a time, contribute a rhyme, line of poetry, thought, idea, or affirmation. This circle is the pedagogical foundation of…
“What you mean it’s yours?” “You didn’t know?” “Naw…I didn’t”. “Well, look. These here.” Running tongue over his lips “these lips. belong to me.” Licking his own lips. “Oh yeah?” “Yep.” Squeezing his bicep. “This too. Matter of fact, both of them.” “Seriously?” “Yes.” Rubbing up and down his arms. “These strong […]
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Glares from the oncoming cars illuminated her smeared handprints on the rear windshield
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