Christmas bells are ringing…
Okay, not exactly Christmas bells.
We’re calling it “Newmas.” A New Year’s/Christmas blend to make up for the time missed out.
Otto spent Christmas day in surgery. Now he’s laid out on our living room couch, cups of water, Advil, and pill bottles littering the coffee table.
To Otto’s credit, he’s in good spirits. He’s in pj’s and a Santa hat, which is too big on his head and droops to one side.
Naomi spent the night—as she’s done every night since the two of them came back from the city, Otto with a bandage wrapped around his hand. He’s healed since, and now he wears the tattoo of a monkey with a Christmas hat on the back of his hand—a permanent reminder of our night at the holiday concert. This morning, the three of us got up, had coffee and muffins, and opened up presents from under the tree. Now, I’ve got wrapping paper scattered over the floor, coffee rings on my table, and one Otto who can barely keep his eyes open.
I’m on one side of the couch, Otto’s feet in my lap, and Naomi sits on the opposite end, his head on her legs. She rests her arm around him and pets her fingers absently over the scruffy beard that’s begun to sprout up over his jaw.
“What do you think?” Naomi asks. “Successful Newmas?”
“Great Newmas,” Otto murmurs. “We should do this every year.”
He’s not lying. We are spoiled—our opened presents sit under the tree. A blank notebook for Otto to write in. A new sweater for me. A pair of earrings for Naomi, and a cat toy for Milo.
Otto’s eyelids get heavy. He stares at the lights of the Christmas tree, trying to keep his eyes open. Failing.
I give his toes a small squeeze.
“Hey. How are you feeling?”
Those blue eyes open again. “Tired. And in pain.” He yawns and stretches out, his toes briefly digging into my thighs. “And horny.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “You got major surgery…and your first to-do item is to fuck?”
“Always. I’m pent-up. But like…moving hurts.”
“How about jerking off? Can you do that?”
“I think so…”
Otto reaches underneath the band of his sweatpants. I can see the outline of his hand, lazily moving up and down.
He sighs. “Yep. That works.”
Naomi bites her bottom lip. Her eyes twinkle like Christmas lights. “Fuck,” she murmurs. “Do you know how much that turns me on?”
Otto tilts his head back against her thigh, looking up at her face. “Show me.”
Her eyes locked on his, she unbuttons her zipper and then reaches underneath her pants. Her eyes flutter once as she fondles herself. She sighs deeply, contently, and then retracts her hand.
Her fingers are glistening. The sight makes my throat tight with want.
And I’m not the only one. Otto takes her wrist in his hand and guides her fingers into his mouth. He sucks one digit, then the next. “You taste so good,” he murmurs. He’s hoarse with want. “I need more.”
He tugs on her pants. Naomi shifts in her spot, lifting her hips to roll her pants off her legs. She climbs on top of Otto then, straddling his face. Her eyes meet mine, and she takes the back of my head, pulling me into a kiss.
I love her lips. I love her softness. I love the way she gasps into my mouth, and I know Otto’s tongue is inside of her, consuming her.
This is the lazy, Christmas morning sex that the three of us deserve.
I draw my lips down Naomi’s jaw and neck. She whimpers into my kisses as she rocks her hips over Otto’s face. He’s gripping her thighs, drawing her nearer, and I can hear his muffled moan between her legs.
I dip my head down. Otto’s shirt rides up, revealing that fresh scar across his abdomen. The skin around it is red and sensitive, and I avoid that area completely. Instead, I gently pull his sweatpants down, just enough to let his cock spring free.
He wasn’t lying about being pent-up. He’s already so erect, so swollen.
Tenderly, I kiss the tip of him. I draw a line of kisses downward, to the base.
I haven’t done this before. But I want to.
I lick him. Tasting. The skin here is velvet smooth. When I get to the tip of him, I taste the ocean.
Otto groans. He pushes his hips forward, toward my mouth. But I take his thighs in my hands, firmly pinning him down.
“Don’t move,” I tell him, the doctor in me taking over. “Or you’re going to pop a stitch.”
“Uck.” Otto’s swear is muffled, especially when Naomi folds her knees completely so she’s sitting on his chin.
Her dark bush matches the color of his beard. They look like one being.
With Otto’s legs pinned between me, I take his cock into my mouth. I remember how he sucked me—the low, swooping momentum—and I try to mimic it. But when I try to suck him down, he touches the back of my throat, and I gag. Instead, I take his base in my hand and swallow as much of him as I comfortably can, breathing through my nose.
This seems to be a good thing, because the muscles of his abdomen go tight, and he trembles underneath me.
I let myself explore Otto with my tongue and my lips. I suck. I lick. I savor the sweet-salt taste of him.
“Oh god, oh god, oh my god.”
I open my eyes and turn them upward. Naomi is climaxing in front of me. Her thighs shake, lower lip buttoned between her teeth.
She’s watching me as she unravels. It’s intoxicatingly erotic to watch her eyes get wide and her cheeks go red with a blush, as though she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
It makes me throb.
She moans, and the sound is almost pained as her hips give another shuddery thrust.
Naomi’s hair is pulled back. Her hair tie has jingle bells on it, and every time she moves against Otto’s mouth, the little bells chime.
It gives me an idea.
I lift my head, dropping Otto from my mouth. That gets a deep groan from him.
“Jesus…fucking Christ, Diego,” Otto whines as Naomi lifts off him. His Santa hat has fallen from his head, and his lips are glistening and swollen and pink.
His cock pulses in my hand at the absence of my mouth. I didn’t realize how close I’d gotten him.
Uh…whoops.
I feel a tinge of guilt but mostly pride. I did that.
I clear my throat and look at Naomi. “Do you think you can cum again?”
She blinks at me. Her eyes are still half-lidded, but her lips draw into a smile. “Only one way to find out.”
I open my palm out to her. “Can I have your hair tie?”
Her eyebrows quirk upward. But she slides it off her hair, letting the thick strands fall down her back. Then she drops it into my hand.
“Do you want to fuck Naomi?” I ask Otto.
He flashes me a look. “Yeah, but I have an overbearing nurse who keeps complaining about my stitches.”
I chuckle. I take her jingle bell hair tie and fit it around Otto’s wrist. It jingles when he moves.
“Here,” I tell him. “You set the pace. Show me how you want me to fuck her.”
Otto’s eyes light up at that. He grins. “Let the virgin out the bottle and he becomes a kink-fucking-genie.”
I rise from my spot to stand in front of Naomi. I take her face in my hand and stroke my thumb over her cheek. “Is that good for you?”
“Yeah.” She smirks. “Very good.”
She pushes her mouth against mine. I feel her fingers tug the drawstring of my pants. She massages me over them, and the friction draws a sigh from me.
I cradle her body, scoop her up in my arms, and lift her to gently set her down on the carpeted floor. I slot my body on top of hers, kissing her, and fit myself between her thighs.
Here, Otto has a perfect view of us. Already, I can hear the light jangle of the bells as Otto takes himself in his hand.
It’s intimate. The way Naomi pulls my shirt off and rubs her hands up my chest. The way her lips butterfly against my throat. The way she sighs when I ease myself inside of her, already slick from Otto’s tongue.
And it’s erotic. It sends a heat through my blood when I look up and see Otto watching us, those blue eyes hazy with desire.
He strokes himself slowly. From base to tip and back again.
Jingle…jingle…jingle…
I move to his beat. I make love to Naomi as she spreads out onto the white carpet with the softest moan. I clutch her thigh, holding her open. Her Christmas sweater hikes up her chest, revealing the soft underside of her breasts.
All three of us have been tested and cleared. And it’s worth it to feel the wet, naked heat of Naomi’s body as she clings to me.
“Oh, god,” Naomi murmurs. “That feels so good.”
Otto picks up the pace.
Jingle-jingle…jingle-jingle…
I groan. Naomi’s fingers tighten on my shoulders, her nails digging into me.
She’s already orgasmed once, but I can feel it building inside of her again, her body growing tight.
“Fuck,” she swears. She reaches between us, and the back of her hand tickles my abdomen as she flicks her clit rapidly.
My breath is light, and I close my eyes, concentrating, forcing myself to hold back. I bite the inside of my lip.
Jinglejinglejingle!
The beat is too fast for me to pull back now. I’m pounding her to keep pace. I moan loudly as I explode inside of Naomi.
She cries out. Her thighs tremble, and her hips thrust upward a couple of times before I feel her pulse around me, pulling me, drawing my own orgasm out.
Naomi mewls and grabs my face. She kisses me frantically, and I feel myself returning it, sloppily plunging my tongue in her mouth.
Otto swears from his spot on the couch. He stops jingling, and when I open my eyes, I can see him holding his softening cock, lips parted, panting, white glistening across his belly.
“Good god,” Otto pants. “Ho-ho-ho indeed.”
Naomi laughs. She grabs a throw pillow and tosses it at his face. “Dumbass.”
He smirks at her. “Slut.”
There’s love in his eyes, though.
So much love. Love in his gaze. Love in Naomi’s touch. Love in my chest, spilling out over both of them.
Love, love, love.
“I love you,” I blurt out. My gaze goes to Naomi, then Otto, then back. “Both of you.”
Naomi smiles. She gently runs her fingers through my hair and down the back of my neck. “I love you, too.”
“I love you three,” Otto replies. I lift my eyebrows at him. He always has to get a joke in.
But when my eyes meet his, I know he means it.
There’s a boyish grin on his lips but serious intention in his gaze. He holds my gaze, and I need him suddenly. I shift my body to bridge the small gap between us and brush my lips against his. He takes me in a kiss that doesn’t hesitate or waver. This time, he doesn’t pull away from me. There’s confidence in his kiss. Devotion.
He tastes like Naomi, and Otto, and us. I savor it.
“Merry Newmas,” Otto murmurs as we break apart.
I smile. “Merry Newmas.”
