Early Christmas!

Joe’s POV

 

“Jooeee, please, come to help!” I hear you calling me from outside.

And when I reach you I see you opening the trunk.

 

With a big box.

More than one.

 

“Don’t you dare lift weights, especially now that your ankle is still healing!” I rush towards the boxes so much that my knee hits the bumper.

 

“Fuck!” I massage my now aching knee.

 

“One temporary disability is enough for our couple!” You chuckle, limping your way towards me, to hug me and kiss the tip of my nose.

 

Cute.

 

“Don’t you find it funny? I still have some trouble walking, but not driving. By the way, thanks for lending me your car, without even knowing where I was heading to.”

 

“I call it full, unlimited trust.” I reply, as I took the first box from the trunk.

 

The heaviest one, for the record, but I’m a strong man, I can do it.

 

“I gave you my car, my mooney…”

You slap my shoulder, but lucky for me I have already placed the heavy box on the ground.

“Hey! It’s not your money. It’s mine. I’ve honestly earned it and I’m free to spend it the way I prefer!”

“Of course you are, but don’t forget that I’m still your Boss, a.k.a. the one who fills your wage with his money.” I sneer, as I deal with the second box, lighter, but more noisy.

 

“Well, that’s only a pure coincidence. If I had any other job my money wouldn’t come from you.” You retort, pouting. “Anyway, I hate you!”

 

“Hey, that’s not a nice thing to say to your boyfriend… or to your Boss, either.” I grumble, but the truth is that I would just want to burst out laughing.

 

Do you really think I give so much importance to making a difference between my money and yours?

Oh, Bronte, I’ more on the ‘Whatever is mine is yours’ path; the more I get to know you, the stronger the feeling becomes.

 

“Actually, maybe I should quit this job and find another one, so I’d be able to own different money and…”

I make you shut up with a kiss.

“You’re not going anywhere, Bronte.” I murmur, against your soft lips.

 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s inside these boxes?” I ask you as I take down even the last one from the trunk.

 

“Okay, you would find out anyway after all.” You shrug. “There are decorations inside the boxes.”

 

“Decorations for what?” I frown at you.

 

“Well, Christmas!” You reply, as it was the most natural thing.

 

Definitely not for me.

 

“On 10th November?! Where did you manage to find all this stuff already?”

“Already?!” You scoff. “Geez, Joe, where do you live? Do you really want me to give you marketing lessons? Everyone knows that once Halloween is over it’s automatically Christmas, at least in shops!”

 

“And also for you, I see.”

 

“To me Christmas can’t ever come early enough!” You sigh with a dreamy attitude.

 

I get a knot in my stomach to even think about it.

 

“Well, not me. I think it’s already enough the traditional time I spend dealing with that stupid holiday.” I mutter.

 

“From 8th December to 6th January; yeah, many people belong to that school of thought.” You snort.

 

Too bad I’m about to let you down even further, Bronte.

 

“Actually I meant that I barely start on 24th December and end on 26th December.” I clarify.

 

You scoff again.

 

“Excuse me, I didn’t know I fell in love with the Grinch!”

 

“Excuse me, I didn’t know I fell in love with a Santa’s elf!” I strike back.

 

“Seriously, do you celebrate Christmas for such a short time?” You inquire.

You sound and look concerned.

 

“Well, you know, when there was Henry, it was different. When Kate managed to get custody and we spent our first Christmas together, he was beyond himself with joy, so much that he didn’t want even the Christmas tree to be undo and to keep him happy we left it until March.” I recall, amused.

But it also hurts.

“Really?” You chuckle.

 

I nod.

 

“It’s his favorite time of the year, you have something in common with him.” I smile at you.

 

A sad smile.

 

“So yeah, after years, decades, I had every reason to enjoy Christmas time, I even used to dress as Santa, buy every sort of Christmas toy, but now…”

 

And there you go, you hug me tight.

 

“Oh, Joe, I’m so, so sorry.” You murmur. “But you can consider it this way: sharing Christmas love can make you and your son feel connected, even from a distance.”

 

“Oh, c’mon, I know you’re just gaming me to help you take all this stuff into the bookstore.” I make you smile, also to break this too emotional moment.

 

“Of course, this is part of my evil plan to lure you into Christmas cheer!” You admit, with a fake evil laughter. “And I could really use your help, especially with the Christmas tree.”

“Wait, what Christmas tree?” I narrow my eyes.

“What do you think there’s inside the heavier boxes? Of course I would never use a real, poor real tree. And since it’s 12 feet high it’s going to take us some time to assemble it.”

“Couldn’t you at least wait for the weekend? Let me remind you there’s gonna be customers in the shop, once we open.”

“Don’t forget how multitasking I am, honey: I can be a clerk and a stand builder at the same time. Now let’s just finish bringing those boxes inside; saving for these ones.” You say, taking a mysterious box, medium size, apart, along with a smaller one. “I’ll bring these ones in our flat and we’ll reach you inside the Mooney’s in a heartbeat.”

--------------------------------------------------------------- 

 

I have to admit that you kept your word.

You didn’t leave a single customer unattended as you went on with the box unboxing and decorations in your free time.

 

I just helped with the tree assembling, but you did all the rest.

 

And by late afternoon there’s a Christmas tree with snow effect bossily standing in the middle of my bookstore, not even in the middle of fucking November.

 

The most paradoxical things of all? I sort of like it.

 

You know exactly what you’re doing, Bronte.

“Early Christmas!” You cheer in a way that it makes it sound more like ‘Merry’, as you reach me here.

I keep staring at those decorations on the tree; it’s all about books and I love you for that. I don’t even know where you managed to find such stuff, but it’s incredible: instead of the common -pathetic- christmas balls, there are piles of books, or a heart shaped shelf containing many books or several little books hanging here and there with their perfect, detailed covers.
There’s even some little Christmas tree made only of folded pages, not to mention the garlands, dangling from the walls.

 

“Before you start cringing, let me clarify: they are made only with prints from the books, no real book has been maimed to create that.” You make me laugh, as you walk towards me.

 

“A reason more to love you.” I murmur, pulling you closer for a kiss but you dodge me.

 

“Wait, I still have to put mistletoe hanging above our heads!” You protest.

 

I pull you closer to me with even more conviction than before.

“You and I don’t need any stupid mistletoe!” I smash my lips against yours and we both risk losing track of time.

 

“Even judging by the kiss, I guess you like all this a lot!” You smirk, satisfied, once we part.

“I’ll tell you what I don’t like for sure: this!” I comment, grabbing from the counter a stupid ball with snow inside that has a pedestal made with wrought iron.

 

“How can you not love it? It fits so perfectly with the furnishing!” You retort, taking it from my hand.

“I won’t allow that rusty thing to uglify Mooney’s!”

“It’s not rusty, it’s vintage!” You strike back, stubborn, before displaying a cocky smirk. “So, this means you’re totally okay with the Christmas tree and the rest of the decorations.”

“Wait. Do you mean that they’re going to stay? Wasn’t it only a demo, before setting everything up on 24th December?”

“Joe..” You resort to your warning tone.

“Okay, you’re right. From 8th December on…”

“Joe, stop it! There’s no fucking way I ‘m going to undo all this after working so hard. The decorations stay here from today to… my birthday?” You dare to suggest.

I stare at you, very inquiringly.

“Which is in January I hope.”

And you can’t even be mad at me, because it’s not that I don’t recall when your birthday is, Bronte, it’s just that we haven’t ever talked about it yet.

Although our wonderful relationship started for weeks, by then.

“July. 10th. Exactly eight months from now. Funny coincidence, huh?” You try to fool me with your most innocent smile.

But it’s fucking useless.

“WHAT!? You can for-fucking-get it, my darling!” I rest my case, with emphasis.

“Not even if I ask you that as my early birthday gift?” You flutter your long eyelashes, but, again, it’s useless, my dear.

“Well, nine days ago it was my birthday, so as a late gift I ask you to remove everything.”

Take this, Bronte.

“What about each gift annihilates the other?” You beg an armistice.

I smirk.

“Deal. But everything must disappear once the holydays are done’

“I’ll start from the very first minutes of 7th January, you have my word.” You reassure me.

And then you stare at me with sad eyes.

“Joe, why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

“I don’t know, I felt like it wasn’t important.” I shrug.

I said that we hadn’t faced the birthday topic yet.

“But to me it is, this is such a pity!” You pout, as you caress my hair.

“I had you with me, so my birthday has been special anyway.” I murmur.

And I’m not lying.

Then you raise your gaze and there’s a light in your eyes.

A light I got to know well and I love it.

“Well, it’s never too late to celebrate a birthday…”

“Do you have something in mind?” I grow curious.

“You’re going to find out tonight.” You wink at me.

----------------------------------------- 

Once we closed Mooney’s we had dinner at home and now we are about to finish watching a movie.

For the record, a sickening, sappy Christmas movie you managed to find I don’t even know on what far-off streaming platform.

Geez, Bronte, you have a worrying obsession!

The most important thing is that the fucking movie is over.

It’s time to go to bed.

Surely not to sleep; not to mention that you promised to me something intriguing.

I’m just putting your laptop in your rucksack, to make more room in the bed, when you ‘assault’ me from behind.

Armed with something soft, smooth, pleasant.

Silk, maybe?

You wrap it around my eyes, two times for good measure and knot it behind my head, tight enough for me not to see anything anymore.

Speaking of intriguing.

“I’m sorry but now I’m about to resort to some magic and you’re not supposed to see anything…” You murmur, as your hands unbutton my shirt, but you stop just half way. “Uhmm, thinking about it, maybe it will be more fun to save it for later.”

“I like this game.” I chuckle, since, at least, you haven’t gagged me.

“Just wait for me here.” You add as I can hear you leaving the bedroom/living room.

I remain alone, maybe for a quarter of an hour or some minute more, until I hear an approaching noise, like little bells, as some steps grow closer.

Someone walking in heels.

“Hi, Joe, I’m the Elf of Early Christmas and Belated Birthdays!” You cheer with a tone higher than usual.

It seems you really wanna play, so let’s play.
From now on I’m going to pretend you’re not you anymore.

“So, what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“A very nice and pleasant girl summoned me, saying you need my help, so here I am!”

“I guess I know that girl and I love her very much.” I beam.

“Well, she must love you very much as well to summon me, because I always grant remarkable experience.” The elf whispers to my ear, nibbling the tip in the process.

Awww. Nice move.

“And tell me, Elf, do you have a name?”

“Why don’t you pick a name for me?”

“I guess I’m going to call you Desire.” I wink at you, I really do, too bad my eyes are covered.

“And then Desire will be. Now, why don’t you get more comfortable?” Desire suggests, grabbing my hand to lead me to the bed.

That makes me find out Desire is wearing gloves, with fur on the edges.
Gloves that Desire uses to finish the work you have started Bronte, leaving me with my shirt fully open.
It’s pleasant to feel the soft fabric of the gloves on my skin.
But I need more exploration.

That’s why once I lay down on the mattress and Desire straddles me, I use my hands to figure out how she’s dressed.
And it seems she understood what I wanna do and she allows that, getting closer to my hands on purpose.
Starting from above.
Here’s one of those long Christmas hats, I dare to guess, red or green, with a little bell on the pointy end.
Desire's shoulders are naked, most of her decoltè exposed, the edge is a soft, thin line of fur that also coincides with the very short sleeves of the dress, leaving also the arms naked.
The dress is made of some plastic fabric that must give a translucent effect I can’t see but I can imagine it, just like its color: red or green, but Desire strikes me as a green colour lover.
The very tight dress ends with a pointy miniskirt, with a bell hanging from every point; that’s the source of the noise I heard.

Desire’s thighs are bared, until some sexy stay up stockings begin.

This is oooohh so sexy I can already feel my pants getting tighter.

“Am I allowed to ask questions about your outfit?” I break the silence between me and Desire.

“I guess so.”

“What colour are your stockings?”

“Red and white stripes, ending with red decollète stiletto shoes.” She explains as I reach the heel, more and more intrigued.

“Which should make your dress and hat red.”

“Well, also green is a colour that perfectly matches with red and white!”

Ah-ah. I knew it was green.

“Now, if you don’t mind, Joe, it’s my turn to ask you a question.” Desire says as she gets rid of my shirt.
The more naked, the better.


“Ask me anything, Desire.” I arch and reach out to try to kiss her, but she pushes me behind.

“Have you been a good or a bad boy this year?” Desire inquires, trapping me even more between her thighs.

“Hands down, bad.” Is the only answer that makes sense.

“I wished you would say that!” Desire whispers in my ear, right before I hear a clicking sound and I can’t move my left hand anymore.

“Guess who found your pair of handcuffs.” Desire chuckles, grabbing my right hand and repeating the operation. “Guess who bought a new pair.”

Handcuffed and blindfolded.
The ultimate proof of trust.
A few weeks ago, in the Sandbox I did the same with you, Bronte; but I’ve never been on the other side, in such powerless condition.
Maybe the closest time was when Love suggested to do that crazy thing of the exchange of couples, fucking foursome or whatever it was supposed to be, leaving me with that sort of weird Rambo-wannabe neighbour.
And I thank God things ended the way they were meant to.
But now it’s different.
Giving my full trust to you, Desire, Bronte, Louise or whatever you wanna be.

It’s something so erotic I could come right here, right now.
But I’m making any possible effort not to.

“Bad boys don’t get to touch, only to experience.” Desire decides and she sounds so horny.

“Then make me experience, Desire.”

A harsh, slapping sound.
Pain on my right hips that quickly turns into pleasure.
What the fuck?
Was it a whip? A sexy one?

“Hit me again. Just… harder, please?”

Did I really say that?

“Huh? Are you sure?”

I caught you so off guard that you slipped to your Bronte’s tone.

But the game has just started, it would be such a pity to already make it end.

“You heard me, Desire. C’mon, punish me, I deserve it.”

Two lashes.
One for hip.
And definitely harder than before.

I hiss in pain and revel in it at the same time.

Even more when Desire kisses me, although she grabs my hair more violently than I expected.
But I don’t mind, not if she is kissing me like she wants to devour me.
And the way her lips descend on my neck, and collarbone and her teeth softly scratch my sensitive skin.

“Okay, I have to to this without gloves, otherwise it could be dangerous.” Desire mutters.

Do what?

And what’s this sudden heat close to my chest… Is it a candle?

“Wait, Desire, are you really going to…”

Too late.

Some drops of hot wax landed on my left shoulder and it hurts like hell.

“Fuck!”

At first.
Then… it’s something I wouldn’t be so reluctant to try again.

 

You must have read my mind, because a few seconds later you pour hot wax again, this time on my rib, right side.

I arch, tugging my handcuffs.

Pain and bliss mingle again.

I hiss at the freezing touch of icecubes with my shoulder and rib and yet I didn’t imagine it was something I could crave so much.

More kissing from Desire, even a hickey on my right shoulder.

Finally something utterly sweet.

I tense when I feel Desire dealing with my pants, undoing them and taking them off.

“Don’t worry, no whips or wax in that area.” Desire instantly calms me down. “Also because it’s time for the belated birthday celebration.”

Saying so, Desire lowers my boxers down and even without seeing I know she’s welcomed by my fully erected cock.

Desire starts caressing it, tracing all its length.
The gloves are back and I really like the sensation.

Then her hot mouth comes to play and I feel like the luckiest -belated- birthday boy in the world.

When I feel I’m about to come I have to batten down the hatches.

“I’m almost there, Desire… Please, stop it!” I invite her to part from me, not because I think she doesn’t want to taste me.
I’m pretty sure Desire wants to take everything from me.
But it’s me who don’t want to; I need to come just inside her.
What other chance do I have to make love to an Elf, after all?

“Take me, Desire, ride me, enjoy every inch of me…” I urge her, my voice made hoarse by lust.

Once again, the soft fabric of the gloves grabs my length, pointing it at the Heaven’s doors that open up and close around it, treasuring it like something extremely precious.

Desire moves her hips so frantically the bells keep tinkling and it’s the sexiest sound ever.
She’s riding me savagely, grasping my waist.

The rhythm increases, just like our pants and moans.

Desire comes with my name on her lips and such a delicious way to moan that makes me come as well, within her, without interruptions.

Elves don’t need precautions - but mostly I know that you, Bronte, take the pill.

Desire relaxes around me, before parting from me.

“Okay, my job here’s done, it’s time to fade away, back in my joyful world.” She cheers, getting up from the bed.

“Wait, Desire, just one quick question before you leave.”

“What do you wanna know, Joe?”

“What would have been the scenario if I had replied that I was a good boy?”

“Oh well, every sort of yummy thing smeared on your body, edible lingerie, some feather plays… probably stuff that, unlike what happened tonight, you can do with your girlfriend whenever you please.” Desire teases me, not before kissing me one long last time.

After the kiss, she also opens the handcuffs, but the time I take to undo the blindfold is enough for her to disappear, taking all the hot stuff she used with her.

After about a quarter of an hour here you go again, Bronte, trotting towards me, all cheerful.

Not even the slightest sound of a bell.

Quite the contrary, you’re wearing an ugly blue Christmas sweater with a grinning reindeer in the middle.

Your legs are bare, no trace of the stockings.

“So, Joe, did you enjoy your time with the Elf of Early Christmas? She wasn’t easy to summon at all.”

“Actually I loved every single moment with her.” I beam. “Are you sure you’re not jealous?” 

I can’t resist playing with you.

You shrug.

“How am I supposed to be jealous of a Fantasy creature?”

“I’m so relieved you seem to be open-minded about it.” I’ll play your game.

“As long as it doesn't become a rule. You know, I allow you this kind of freedom only with specific Fantasy creatures!”

There you are, my lovely jealous girlfriend.

“So, did you and her do anything related to full, unlimited trust?” You ask me with fake naivety.

And I make an effort not to laugh.

“I guess that it’s better if whatever I did with her remains a secret.” I manage to remain serious enough to answer. “I can’t tell you if she instilled more Christmas cheer in me, but for sure I instilled something in her!”

“Pig!” You laugh, then walk away.

For a moment I think I exaggerated and you are insulted, but then I see you coming back with a package.

“Is it for me?”

“Well, I had already thought about your Christmas gift, but now that I found out it was your birthday, I have more than a month to think of something else.” You hand the gift to me.

“Wait. It’s not an ugly Christmas sweater for me, either?” I narrow my eyes at you, very diffident.

You laugh again.

“It's a way too little box for that. And stop being an asshole or I’ll swear that’s what I’m buying for you at Christmas!”

When I unwrap the package and lift the lid of the box I lose every reason to joke.

“Oh my god, Bronte. It’s beautiful.” I murmur, really touched.

It’s a bronze figurineDon Quixote, so well done in every details, from the hat to the posture. And he’s even reading a book.

“I remember that night when you talked to me about Paco, about how you gave him a Don Quixote book to read, saying it was one of your favorites.” 

As cool as it is, it’s not the gift itself; it’s the fact you paid so much attention that night.

You really care about me, Bronte.

“And of course, I couldn’t buy you a book, you must already have every possible edition of that.”

I nod.

“At least you can put it along with the busts of the classic authors; like one of those you wanted to use to knock me down!” You recall.

“Can’t you think of a more romantic first meeting?” I joke with you.

“It’s only second to the fact it was all planned because I was catfishing you.”

I chuckle.

It’s so good to look at our past with the lightheadedness we’re doing now.

“Happy belated birthday, Joe.” You wrap your arms around my neck and kiss me.

“Early Christmas, Bronte.” I murmur, against your lips.

“What?” You stare at me, astonished.

“You know, this sort of non-holiday you invented… it’s not so awful after all!”

“Early Christmas to you too, Joe!” You kiss the tip of my nose.

I’m really growing fond of such a cute gesture.

“So, I did manage to instill some Christmas cheer in you!” You grin. “I was also thinking, why don’t we put one of those snow machines inside Mooney’s?”

I just glare at you.

“A bit too much?” You come to your own conclusion.

There’s still a question gnawing at me.

“Bronte?”

“Yep?”

“About that edible lingerie…”

 

--

 

THE END