The conversation was winding down.
“What are you and your friends doing for Christmas? He asked.
“Sherri is throwing a dinner party.”
“Let me guess: you have to make most of the food.”
“Not much.” She said defensively, and he could hear her blush as she moved the phone from one ear to the other. She forestalled the inevitable lecture on being taken advantage of by saying, “I sure wish you could be here to go with me.”
“I know. I feel badly too.”
“I know you can’t; it’s not the end of the world. It won’t kill us. I’m just being a suck.”
“I’d like to ‘suck’ you.” She giggled. He turned serious. “Maybe I can l be there at your party.”
“It’s okay, sweetie, I understand that…”
“I will be there.”
She knew better than to argue with him when he used that tone. No matter how illogical he was, better to just let it go. They said their good nights and hung up.
She pulled into Sherri and Bob’s driveway, missing him terribly. She tried not to complain about the distance; what’s the use when nothing can be done? But she hated it. She hated it especially on nights like tonight, when everyone else had someone else.
Everyone but her.
She greeted friends, hugs and kisses all around, a bottle of wine opened already before dinner. I need to be careful; I have to drive home. Still, a glass this early shouldn’t hurt.
As they sat down for the meal she again was struck at the odd number, her the odd woman. Quit feeling sorry for yourself! She thought furiously. You’re here with friends. If it’s not too much trouble, try to have a good time.
A voice bloomed in her head, interrupting her thoughts, so real she looked around, expecting the others to hear it too. I will be there at your party.
She shuddered slightly. I’m just missing my man. She thought she heard faint laughter, gently mocking her.
Halfway through dinner she felt fingers running through her hair. Jumping half out of her seat she turned around to see who was doing it. No one there.
Strange looks, a few laughs.
“Maybe you better quit drinking.” Bob said with a chuckle. She blushed and sat back down, but a minute later she felt the caress again, this time brushing her neck. She looked around, more furtively this time, for a draft from the vent, an open window, even a bug. Something.
Aware she was still getting some glances she tried to control her features, but it didn’t help. Someone’s hands were on her shoulders, gently massaging tense muscles, made more so by the phantom presence. The hands moved up and down her back, kneading and stroking, rubbing, caressing. In spite of herself she felt a flush of excitement. She wanted to writhe with pleasure, but had to control her features, aware she was already on the hot seat. She schooled her face to stillness, enjoying the sensations with an inner smile.
The hands moved over her shoulders, coming closer and closer to her breasts. She was afraid she would turn red as a lobster. Biting her lip to keep her face straight, she tried to follow the conversation. No luck. Thankfully no one was looking at her to add anything. She felt those unseen hands slide down to the top of her breasts, hesitating, just touching lightly outside the material. They moved down further, and she felt fingers brush across the fabric of her blouse lightly, so lightly she could barely feel it. The feeling was heavenly. After a few brushes she felt those unseen fingers gently squeezing her nipples.
It was all she could do not to scream.
Realizing her control was slipping, she excused herself from the table. She headed down the hall toward the bathroom, but at the last minute veered into Bob and Sherri’s spare bedroom. She closed the door with a soft click and her knees buckled, as she felt those unseen arms wrap around her waist from behind.
The hands slipped up under her blouse, massaging her tummy, moving everywhere. One hand migrated north, back to her breasts, her now aching nipples. The other hand continued right around her belly button, and then hovered right at her skirt line. Unseen fingers slipped inside her skirt and panties, running back and forth along the edge. She started to moan softly.
Moving several feet she collapsed on the bed, totally giving into the sensation. She felt the hand leave her skirt, while the other left her blouse, and for a moment there was nothing. She was half-hopeful (half-afraid) it was all over, when she felt both hands on her calves.
Slowly but surely the hands made their way up her legs, massaging as they went. She felt her calves rubbed sensuously, as the powerful but gentle hands moved up to her thighs. The closer and closer the hands came to her sex the more she could hardly stand it.
She felt her panties soaked, and almost giggled at the idea of being embarrassed that invisible hands should find her in that state. The fingers continued their climb up her thighs, until they were so close she wanted to shift her hips suddenly, in hopes of catching those fingers upon her.
She felt the massage slacken, as the unseen fingers seemed to lift her skirt up a bit. Then, she felt something else on her legs.
It was a tongue.
The tongue worked its way up her legs the same path those invisible hands had taken, kissing, licking, gently biting her calves, now her thighs. They came to her panties and she felt hot breath against her thighs. She looked down and saw her skirt pushed up, strained as if someone’s head was underneath there.
But there was nothing.
The tongue began to lick her soaked panties, and she whimpered softly, unable to stifle the soft moans coming from her own lips. The sensation was incredible. The unseen tongue pressed up against the cotton panties, pressed against her lips, now the mouth sucking on her through the fabric.
In desperation she lifted her skirt high and with strength she didn’t know she had ripped her own panties off. She immediately felt the mouth on her body in full force. The invisible tongue lapped against her pussy, back and forth, up and down. Now it darted in and out, just barely and inch, and then all the way. She writhed and moaned in increasing volume.
She felt the mouth move up a few inches, as her clit went into a wet mouth. Gently it was held in teeth, as that tongue ran back and forth across. She squirmed and moaned, enjoying every second.
When she felt the fingers enter her she almost passed out.
At first it was just one, but almost immediately another joined it, and she felt filled as two very large fingers entered her and began stroking in and out, in and out, in and out, in the same rhythm as that mouth started sucking on her clit.
In very short order she came, but the fingers and mouth didn’t subside for a second, continuing their onslaught as a second, third and fourth orgasm shook her body. As that fourth orgasm subsided she felt the pressure go away as mouth and fingers suddenly disappeared.
She lay there on the guest bed, gasping slightly, sweat on her body, enjoying the aftermath sensations coursing through her body. Whatever it had been—and she felt strongly that she should not question it—the feeling was truly wonderful.
Her arms were at her sides, and they were the first to feel it. The hands were back, gently but firmly grasping her wrists. She realized she couldn’t move her hands. She was trapped.
Before she could comprehend that she felt a body lower upon her. The weight was not unpleasant, but effectively pinned her there, even if she tried to get away.
She didn’t try.
She felt a knee spreading her legs further apart, and she happily complied. A few seconds later she felt the hard unseen shape pressed against her wetness, probing gently, the tip slipping in and out. She tried to force her body down to take more of it, but each time it pulled back. Finally she gave over and waited patiently.
It was worth the wait.
With no warning it entered her fully, and her eyes popped. Almost immediately the thrusting began, and she quickly moved her body to match in speed and direction. The hands moved from her hands and were all over her body; massaging her breasts, her hair, her face. She felt unseen kisses all over her neck, her shoulders, her eyes, cheeks, beasts. She felt that tongue again, licking the sweat from between her breasts.
Her own hands went around an invisible back, and she did her best to dig the greatest invisible furrows you never saw.
Finally she felt that mouth come down on her own, and she kissed back hungrily. Her tongue inside that mouth, that tongue inside hers. Teeth bit lips and tongue in an ever-increasing frenzy of passion. Briefly she worried about how much noise she was making but quickly passed the point of caring about that whatsoever and gave in to the building climax. She felt this invisible body tighten too, and increased her pace ever more to bring release at the same time.
She felt that point of no return in herself and the body on top of her as well, and quickly after two simultaneous orgasms, powerful, almost violent, shaking the entire body as wave after wave of heat spread through out.
Slowly they both calmed, and she felt the presence within her for a few seconds more. She closed both of her eyes in bliss and felt fluttering kisses on her eyelids.
Then, just like that, the presence was gone, and it didn’t return. She lay there awhile longer, collecting her breath, regaining her composure. She was a mess, and snuck across the hall to the bathroom to repair what she could.
It was a futile effort. The panties were ruined, stuffed into the bottom of the wastebasket. Tissue paper aided a little bit, wiping off sweat (and other evidence of what had occurred), but her hair was a mess, her makeup smeared, and nothing could fix that.
She slipped back to Sherri’s bathroom to borrow what makeup she could find and a hairbrush, and that helped a bit, though not much. Briefly she considered swiping a pair of Sherri’s panties before rejecting it. She felt wanton without them, and she liked the feeling.
Finally, having done all she could, she made her way back to the dinner table. Bob made some joke about wondering if “she fell in,” and she laughed even though it wasn’t funny.
Sherri popped. “I’ll go get the dessert. And the presents. It’s not a Christmas party without presents.”
Yes, it’s not a Christmas party without Christmas presents, she thought.
Or Christmas presence.