Libby was in the back of the Main Street Pub--in the bathroom--trying to decide whether to leave or stay.
Nick was in the front--on a bar stool--reading her lusty invitational.
She was horny out of her mind, but too scared to do anything about it.
Seeing him after all these years flooded her senses with how it was for a short time between them. How he'd groaned like a man in the throes of climax, whenever she spoke his name, how she'd get aroused by every word he uttered.
Pressing her legs together, she shifted uncomfortably as arousal hummed through her veins.
"I'm ready to give him anything he wants," she muttered, "however he wants it."
After two beers, Libby was tipsy and feeling vulnerable. Normally she'd hate that, but somehow tonight she welcomed it, liked being at his mercy--one thing for sure--she was too turned on to analyze it.
For the first time in her life, she wanted to be washed away in the rush of an overwhelming, all consuming passion.
* * *
Seized with visions of his mouth on hers, his hands exploring her body, him kissing her from head to toe, she pictured him moaning and groaning with pleasure as she loved on him. She was sure he could more than satisfy her and he had the right equipment to do it with, that much she knew for sure.
One time by accident, she'd spotted his beautiful package. It was at her youth groups beach party just before he left for the United States Navy.
At the last minute, she'd shown up with the class nerd just to be close to Nick who'd dumped her saying she was jailbait, far too young.
He along with a few other boys had snuck in cans of beer they passed off as soda pop--they were feeling pretty frisky for church boys.
It was getting late, but no one wanted to leave. Everyone one was having fun and one of the kids kept playing his guitar while the others sat around the bon-fire half asleep.
Some were holding hands and sneaking kisses whenever they could get away with it under the director's watchful eyes.
Nick was sitting cross-legged in his loose swim trunks and Libby laid on the sand across from him--totally mesmerized.
Unbeknownst to him, his package was hanging out of the leg of his wide legged swimsuit.
Catching her looking at him, he followed her gaze downward until he saw where she was looking, but instead of covering up, he instead smiled at her.
Taking a swig of beer, he put his hand discretely inside his suit and began fondling himself as he stared backed and winked.
His towel made it impossible for others to see, but Libby had a clear view.
Dropping one hand inside her shorts--she followed his example and stroked her own stuff--openly stared as his erection grew bigger.
Before they left the beach and headed back on the bus to Harbor Cove High, Nick came up and whispered in her ear,
"We'll do each other for real someday, when I get back from the service."
* * *
Now standing in the bathroom of the Main Street Pub, she found herself touching her breasts and imagining him above her, coaxing a response out of her and giving of himself in return, making her body cum alive with desire.
She went in the farthest stall and dropped panties, lifted her skirt and put her index finger on her clit and her fourth finger in her slit--moved them back and forth seeking
comfort--release from the intense aching in her groin.
Soon juicy little climaxes began pulsing through her mound begging for what she'd seen on that beach so many years before.
Knowing Nick was only about forty feet away, she knew what she needed to do. Get brave! At least make an attempt. Not let this opportunity to re-connect pass her by.
She pulled her panties up, dropped her skirt, washed
her hands, combed her hair, touched up her lipstick, squirted a bit of perfume on her wrists and dabbed Binaca
on her tongue.
Just in case she'd make it all the way down to where he sat, she wanted to feel confident, not self-conscious about the small stuff.
As she left the the restroom, she bumped into a man by the piano with a microphone in his hand--a black top hat and tails.
He looked for all the world as if he'd stepped out of a Charles Dickens movie.
Getting closer to him she saw it was her old high school art teacher.
The kids called him Mr. Ebenezer to his face and Scrooge behind his back.
He sang "Blue Christmas" and rather well too. When he was done he turned and nodded towards her.
"How nice to see you again. I remember you well from school. How have you been?"
"Well, Mr. Ebenezer, and you?"
"Fine, Libby. Nick is here--at the end of the bar--I know he'd be happy if you stop and say hello before you leave."
Seeing Scrooge, brought back a flood of memories--his unforgettable teaching style
-- the letter Ebenezer had written to her five years ago on behalf of Nick.
She'd never answered it.
"Mr. Ebenezer, I got your letter. I kept waiting for the right words to come, but they never did, I plan to do it after the holiday."
"That would be wonderful Libby, now go say hello to Nick."
* * *
Marching up to the bar stool, like woman on a mission, she tapped him on the shoulder.
Overjoyed to see her, he threw his arms around her and they talked non-stop until 10:30 P.M. until they left the pub, arm in arm, and walked into a winter wonderland where soft snow flakes fell all around them.
Half way down the block, in the rapidly descending night of a perfect Christmas Eve, he pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth in a powerful kiss.
It was a good kiss, warm and deep and long. From then on he couldn't keep their hands off of each other.
Down by J.C. Penney's he kissed her again, this time he slipped his hand up under her coat, around her side and up under the softness of her cashmere sweater.
She withdrew, pushed him away.
"Hold on there Santa, you've got a long night ahead of you."
"Sorry," he said. "I've been looking for you so long, I'm a little crazy, you know . . . "
"Well, look no more, you've found me. Take me with you on your sleigh, I want to help."
* * *
They crossed the street and walked through Central Park towards the municipal parking lot directly next to the police station.
Nick's huge snowmobile that had been customized to like like an old fashioned cutter sleigh, was parked directly in line with the windows underneath the sheriff's office and the garage where patrol cars entered.
"Hey, it won't take us long. I've got helpers this year. It makes it much easier but I miss delivering all the packages myself."
"Not mine I hope," she said pinching his butt.
"Baby, when our work is done, Santa will give you his package."
TO BE CONTINUED:
HITTING ON SANTA (PART 4)
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Submitted by:
Madison
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