Unedited
The moment she walked in the room he swore he inhaled her scent. Each inhale brought the flavor of spiced cinnamon, as if he could taste Christmas cider on the back of his tongue.
He was fixated then. His eyes tracking her around the boring ass party that had suddenly gotten exciting with her arrival.
When she was close enough to truly admire the press of her breasts in her ugly Christmas sweater, he decided to be brave. Trying to be subtle, he snagged a cup of nog and turned just as she was making a move to pass him. Egg nog spilled like gingerbread icing down the front of her sweater.
“Oh shit!” He grabbed napkins to dab at the mess, aiming for her middle instead of where he wanted to rub. “I’m sorry about that.”
Her dark eyes sparkled as she laughed. “Nothing a washer can’t fix. I got this monster from Godwill so it’ll go in the back of my closet after tonight anyway.”
“Well, at least let me help find some thing to dry you off.” He inhaled deep, drawing her delicious smell in.
Her eyes turned knowing then. Something else swam in the depths of her gaze, mesmerizing him. For a moment he could see nothing except her naked skin pressed against his. Her scent would change with the shedding of her clothes. He imagined tasting every Christmas flavor on her body as he explored her. He’d lap the cocoa flavor from her dark skin, suck the raspberry taste from nipples he knew had to be dark, then he’d sink to his knees between her thighs and lick the sugar cookies and cream taste off the loveliest pussy ever. He’d nibble at her neck as he sank into her heaven.
“No need.” He blinked, the imaginary taste of her still lingering on his tongue. “It’s already starting to dry.”
He was as hard and bent in his slacks as a fresh made candy cane. She smiled up at him as though she knew exactly where his mind had wandered off to.
“Uh… Good.” He adjusted his stance and tried to shake off his stupor. “Sorry again.”
She laughed softly, the sound rocking through him. “No harm done. Merry Christmas.”
He stared after her for a long time, too shook up to do anything else.