It Didn’t Feel Like Christmas

The conference had been long in a hotel with the air conditioner wars in each room.  Then the drive home was in a car without air condition at all.  Rolling the windows down brought swirling hot air that did little to help.  It didn’t feel like Christmas.  It was hot and humid and sticky.  She normally liked the heat but it was December.  She was use to it being cold and windy.  She hated cold and windy.  She couldn’t make up her mind what to like and what not to like.  She just wanted to get in the shower and wash the day off of her.  The conference was stale and as usual, the same old topics.  They always promise new subjects and new material but they never come through.  Her certification needs CEU’s so she went.  She had doodled the whole time and wrote outlines of the stories in her head.   At least she could be productive in some ways if not for the reason she was there.

The hotel was decorated for the holidays.  It was December 3rd and she had already tired of the Christmas Carols that played on repeat in the hotel’s muzak system.  She noticed that each religion and its coinciding decoration was represented.  She knew it was the PC thing to do but she liked that each had representation.  It still didn’t feel like Christmas.  She trudged onto the elevator with her briefcase and handbag.  Surrounded by vacationers and the smell of coconut oil and sand.  She found herself wishing she wasn’t so tired or she would make her way to the beach.  After she ate something she would try and take a walk by the ocean.  As she stepped off the elevator she felt something land on her head.  She jumped to the side and thoughtfully limited her kung fu motions to get whatever it was off of her.  In seconds, her brain ran through the creepy crawler things it could have been.  Top of the list was those large bugs that looked like roaches on steroids.  She was happy to realize that what had accosted her was a small twig of mistletoe that had fallen from the ceiling.  She managed to calm the panic and laugh at herself.  At least there would be comic relief on the video cam for the hotel.  It didn’t feel like Christmas, and Christmas was now attacking her for her feelings.

She inserted the card into the slot in the door.  She had left the AC on high this morning and was thankful for the slap of cool air on her skin as she walked in the room.  Dropping everything on the floor she checked her cell phone for messages.  Nothing.  Normally this was upsetting but she was happy to not have to answer any texts or phone calls.  First things first.  She was hungry but she needed a shower more.  She walked into the bathroom, removing her clothes and jewelry.  The hotel had left the usual sundries, but she noticed there was one of those bath bomb things.  She had never tried one and decided, why not.  A bath will do just as well.  It had been months since she had taken a long bath and she smiled at the thought of it.  She ran the water, warmer then she thought she wanted due to the heat but she felt the heat would help her aching muscles.  Dropping the bomb in the water watching it fizz and bubble filling the bathroom with a wintergreen scent.  Of course.  She rolled her eyes but decided it didn’t matter.

Climbing in the water she felt herself immediately relax.  Her skin was pinking up from the heated water and she liked the color.  The heat was helping.  She closed her eyes and let the heat and the smell swallow her.  She reached up to turn off the water.  Something caught her eye.  Green, red and white, almost crystallized glitter on the floor.  It was in stark contrast to the white hotel bathroom.  The fucking mistletoe.  What is it with this little twig of fake leaves and berries.  She reached down and grabbed it.  Laying back she rolled the twig in her fingers.  It was cheap, plastic, waxy.  She realized she had never seen real mistletoe.  The twig has hard and prickly.  The fake holly-like leaves and berries had sharp points.  That didn’t seem very Christmas like at all.  She dropped the twig in the water.  It sank to the bottom.  Damn it.  The water was oily from the bath bomb.  She moved to locate the twig and felt it scrape against her leg.  It felt good.  That sharp scratch of plastic against her wet skin.  She reached for it but the movement of the water shifted it over to the other leg.  She felt it scrape again.  She liked it.  It had been a while since pain had brought her pleasure.  She caught the twig in her fingers.  She moved the twig back and forth on her skin.  Her legs.  Her arms.  Around her belly button.  Between her breast.  She watched the thin dark red lines appear on her skin, leaving a trail of where the sticky pointed edges had touched her.  She felt her internal heat match the external heat.   She rubbed the twig on her skin over and over again.  It was getting a little sore but she didn’t care.  The heat, the water, the smell of wintergreen, and the twig.  She was lost in it all.  She wanted the scratchy pain and she wanted something more.   One hand held the twig and moved over her body with the sharp stinging lines.  Her other hand followed the stinging trail with soft gentle fingers, trailing the red lines and soothing the sting.  She moved the twig down between her legs.  She rubbed it on the outside lips of her pussy.  The sting was exhilarating.  She heard her breath catch before she felt it.  The heat was really getting her, making everything fuzzy.   Her other hand followed the trail, soft after the sting, soft after the sting.  She drew circles and lines around her clit, careful not to scrape it.  Her soft hand, the one easing the sting brushed her clit with a finger.  Again, her breath catches and she moaned at the feel of it.  She was ready.  She let her hand linger there.  Her finger drawing soft circles around and over her clit, soft at first.  The twig was still circling her legs and pussy.  She loved the feeling of both the sting and the soothing touches.  Her fingers found her clit again.  She pressed down on it.  She felt the tingling flow from her clit through her body and back to her clit again.  Circles.  Like the circles she had drawn all over her body, her internal pleasure followed suit.   She pressed again and felt the tingling again.  She tried hard to keep the sting and the smooth happening simultaneously.  Her mind was clear of everything except the sensations she was feeling on her skin and on her clit.  Her fingers taking turns circling her clit.  She caught it between the two fingers and squeezed hard.  She pulled and squeezed until she felt the swelling between her fingers.  She pulled harder with her finger and thumb.  The other hand was still dragging the twig in circles all over her body.  She felt her pussy clench and she raised her knees and braced her feet against the side of the tub.  She drew the twig between her legs to rest so it touched the inside of her thighs.  As her body braced for her orgasm, hips raising, fingers pulling, pressing and circling, her legs came closer and she felt the sting of the twig scraping her inside thighs.  The sting and the smooth still working simultaneously as she felt the pleasure and pain surge through her body.  She braced harder against the sides of the tub.  The oily wintergreen water moving with her body and fingers, circling her.  Her clit was slippery from the oily water but she held on tight and continued to pull and press and circle.  She felt the heat inside her raise and she started moving her hips to match the muscles clenching from her orgasm.  She came hard at first and she moaned aloud.  She was braced and stiff as the orgasm wracked her body.  She was still and let the orgasm run through her.  Still feeling the orgasm she relaxed her hips back into the warm slick water.  Her fingers still rubbing her clit to maintain the orgasm as long as she could.  As her muscles relaxed and she felt the last or her orgasm leave her.  Somewhere during the orgasm, the twig dropped back onto the floor.  She waited for her breath to return to normal.

The bathroom was hot and steamy.  The water had stilled  She heard nothing but the bubbles from the bath bomb bursting in quiet rhythm.  It still didn’t feel like Christmas but she cared a lot less about that right now.

Mollysdailykiss

Masturbation Monday

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