Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Glancing over the list, I tick off the few things we just accomplished on my coffee table.
May - A perfect mold of my veiny dick, preferably in bright Christmas red. Don’t forget the veins! Batteries not included.
August - Bend her over and take her from behind, hand in her hair, and don’t dare hold back. Be rough with her. Then let her ride the replica cock while I fuck her mouth.
September - Claim that sweet ass if she’s up for it. Take it slow. She’s new at this.
October - Surprise her. Give her something she’s not expecting. One pearl necklace coming right up.
“You really didn’t hold back with that pearl necklace, huh?”
“No, I can’t say that I did, but you asked for a surprise, and I figured what better surprise than a pearl necklace?”
“Good point,” I say, before pausing, my hand hovering over the list. “Wait. I ticked August’s wish for bending me over and doing me from behind, but like . . . what just happened on the coffee table still counts, right? Even though I was intending on that being a pussy taking and not an ass claiming?”
“Uhhhh, I think it still counts,” he says, glancing over the list again. “I mean, I still bent you over and took you from behind, and there was nothing in the wish that specified which hole that was intended for.”
“Ahh, perfect.”
Don’t get me wrong, if it didn’t count, I’m more than happy to do it again until we can mark it off properly, but I simply don’t have enough energy right now. Especially considering there’s still one more ride for me to take.
“So, in July when you wished to get to know me better, what kind of things were you wanting to know?”
“Oh, ummm . . . wow. Talk about pressure, huh? I feel like there’s so much I want to know about you, but not enough time to cover everything.”
“What do you feel is most important to you?”
“I want to know your heart,” I tell him. “What kind of man are you? What was your childhood like? Do the people back home actually like you or do they tolerate you just because you’re the big man in red? What are your parents like? Oh, and how do you know how to fuck so well? Have you been doing all the little elves because that’s kinda weird, right?”
“Woah,” he laughs. “Slow down.”
I can’t help but laugh too, and I find myself sitting up beside him, just like I did last year, eager to know everything about him.
“I don’t really know where to start with all of that, but I suppose as for the kind of man I am. I guess only you can answer that. You’re the only one I’ve ever allowed to get close enough.”
My brows furrow, surprised by that considering how little I already know of him, which speaks volumes about the relationships he has with other people. “What about your parents?”
“They see me as the fuck-up child I always was, and to be honest, I was only that way because I was angry with the world. I wanted to be here with you. Being isolated sent me down a dark spiral. I was an asshole for a long time and a real dick to those who didn’t deserve it. So yeah, I suppose that answers your other question. Most people just tolerate me because they’re scared I’m going to be an asshole, which is fair, but over these past twelve months, I’d dare say things have gotten better.”
“So your parents only tolerate you.”
“No. Mom and Dad have always been great. Mom sees the best in people and is pretty much exactly who all those bullshit Christmas movies make her out to be. She’s a sweet old lady who just wants to bake shortbread.”
“And your dad?”
“He’s a little more complicated. He sees me as the black sheep of the family and has trouble trusting me not to fuck things up. But I’ve more than proven to him that I can still do my job and have you too.”
“Oh, so he knows you’ve been coming here?”
Nick nods. “He doesn’t just know that I’m here, he’s read through your list of wishes.”
My eyes bulge out of my head. I know he mentioned that his father saw my wish last year, but that doesn’t seem as horrifying as the detailed wishes I made this year. “Oh my god,” I say, squishing my hands over my face as my cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment. “He must think I’m a skank trying to corrupt his son.”
“No,” Nick laughs. “If anything, he thinks I’m the big asshole who’s corrupted this sweet little girl he used to gift dolls to.”
“Holy shit.”
I collapse into the sheets beside him, burying my face into the pillows as he laughs. “It’s fine, he really doesn’t care that much. He knows we have an . . . odd relationship, and he’s okay with it. As long as I don’t fall behind in my duties, then we’re all good.”