“Annie, in what way did you think this would work?”
She was still nestled in his lap, her red velvet-clad breasts dangerously close to his eye line- and he kept his eyes trained on her face. Pouting, she cocked her head at him and draped an arm over his shoulder.
“You can’t do this tiny favour, for me?” Her eyes are big and wide and for a moment he genuinely considers relenting and joining this bizarre crusade to ‘save’ Christmas. He rallies, though, and shakes his head.
“It’ll take a lot more than a Mrs Claus outfit to get me to humiliate myself that much, Annie.”
She shifts in his lap and for a moment he’s concerned that he won’t be able to control himself. Thankfully his jeans are thick, but still he pushes her back on his thighs a little to keep her from figuring out the effect she’s having on him.
“Maybe, maybe I need to make it worth your while more?” There are goosebumps on his arms when she leans in and hovers with her lips close to his ear. “How often do you think about me?”
“As my friend? All the time…”
“You know what I mean, Jeff.” She shifts forwards again so that her thighs can squeeze his hips and he knows she can feel him, feel how hard he’s straining against his jeans. Her voice is more sultry than he’s ever heard it and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest. “I know you think of me, us. Do you think about what it’d be like to be with me?” She teases his earlobe with her teeth.
“Yes…” he breathes, wrapping his arms around her. He’s not sure what’s going on, but this is beyond even his steadfast refusal to acknowledge how he feels about her.
“What do you think about?” she says coyly. She is still bent over him, lips against his neck, and he breathes in the scent of her; her usual warm vanilla mixed in with the soft spice of Christmas.
“Everything,” his voice cracks as he speaks, strained with the effort of keeping control over himself, “What we’d be like, what you’d… feel like. Looking in to those doe eyes when I’m inside you…”
He trails off as she brushes her lips against his. It’s barely a kiss, more like the ghost of one, and he grips her tighter against him. He could push forward and kiss her properly, but there’s something about the situation that makes him feel like he’s suspended in time and he waits for her next move.
“I have a proposition for you,” she says, voice suddenly matter of fact. Bringing her hands up to his collar, she rubs circles with her thumbs against the hollows of his collarbones. There’s a tingling sensation all over him that’s more than just the usual want he feels when he has a hot girl in his arms. He whimpers when she pulls away and off of his lap, feeling her slip through his fingers, but the brief stab of loss dissipates when she reaches under her dress and shimmies out of her underwear.
“Annie-” he’s cut off by her climbing back on to his lap.
“Join the Glee Club and I’ll let you find out.”
“Find out what?” he murmurs, but his mind is running blank.
“What it’s like to be inside me,” she brushes her lips against his between words, “I’ll let you feel it.”
He’s dangerously close to his heart bursting out of his chest. As far as ways to die go, a heart attack with a semi-clothed Annie in his lap is probably in his top four, but he takes a deep breath to calm himself slightly.
“I mean it,” her voice is still sultry and he can’t bear it, “You want to make those fantasies more realistic? I’ll let you put yourself inside me if you join us. You’ll be able to think about it whenever you want.”
“You really want to have sex with me over the Glee Club?” he quips, but his heart’s not in it.
“That’s not what I said,” she rolls her hips against him. He whimpers again.
It’s easy to nod and agree to anything when she’s offering herself up to him, although the squeal of joy and open-lipped kiss she gives him would probably have been enough to convince him in any case. He kisses her back for a moment, enjoying the feel of her loose-limbed in his arms, until she pulls back. There’s a flicker of nerves on her face.
“Annie, you don’t have-” She silences him with a finger to his lips.
“I want to.” She kisses him again before she shifts up, planting her feet on the ground so that she has access to his zipper. Their hands make quick work of the fastenings on his jeans and then she has him in her hand, her fingers curled around him while she adjusts her position in his lap. Then she’s lowering herself on to him and he watches the way her eyelids flutter and her lips part as he enters her. She feels hot and wet and slick and he can’t help but let out a moan that escapes from deep in his throat. She makes a little plaintive noise when she settles back in his lap, thighs hot against his skin where his shirt has ridden up, and for a moment his breath catches in his throat. But then she’s smiling gently at him again and he relaxes against the backrest. Experimentally, he shifts his hips against her and she gasps.
“Don’t move,” she commands, with more force than he would have ever expected of her. He obeys willingly and wraps his arms around her to hold her steady against him. There’s no more words between them- just the steady beat of hearts against chests- and he breaks his gaze away from her big eyes when he realises he’s been staring at her face. Instead he cups the back of her head and pulls her flush against him, her face pressed in to the curve of his neck.
He’s never felt this perfectly warm.
Not enough time has passed when he feels her pull back and he tries to cling to the smooth fabric of her dress. It’s too tight around her waist to gain any purchase though and he cries out as she slips off of him and pushes herself to her feet.
“Not yet, not yet,” he murmurs incoherently, cut off only by her lips pressing against his. But she’s still straddling him and she makes no protest when he slips his hands up the backs of her thighs to cup her ass. He resists reaching between her legs, although the temptation is there with her legs spread over him.
“I have to go,” she whispers as she pulls back from his lips slightly. It’s painful, but he relents and nods.
“I’ll see you in rehearsals.”