Page 52 of Holly Jolly July

I look up from the thread I’ve been pulling on my sweater to meet Mariah’s gaze, cringing at how pitifully she’s looking at

me. Sitting up taller, I give my head a shake and force a smile to my face. “But, hey, I’m here now! Look at me! I’m a real

actress and I’ve been in several movies and I’m here in Chilliwack working on a new Christmas movie, and I love Christmas

movies, and everything worked out, and—”

Mariah interrupts again, gently squeezing my leg. “You know, it’s okay.”

I hesitate. “What?”

“It’s okay to be... sad?”

I blink several times. “I’m not sad. I’m happy! I wouldn’t change a thing. Butterfly effect and all. If I did, maybe I wouldn’t

be here right now, with you.”

Her frown morphs slowly into a smile. “That’s really sweet.”

I turn a bit on the couch so I can face her, taking her hands in mine, and lower my voice. “I’m serious. I didn’t think I’d

ever make a...” I pause, searching for the right word and coming up empty. “Friend like you.”

“Friend?” Mariah tries to slip her hands out of my grasp, but I tug her closer, bringing her lips to mine. She sighs into the embrace,

her lips and tongue greeting mine in a slow dance. I feel lightheaded as she kisses me, like I’m starved for oxygen and she’s

the source.

The couch is too small, and after a few bumbling moments of trying to make it work, Mariah grabs the throw blanket and pillows

to make a love nest on the floor while I switch off my play, opting for quiet Christmas jazz instrumentals on my phone.

The twinkling red and green lights dance upon her porcelain skin, and the smell of her delicate lotion mixes with the woody

pine, synthesizing into my new favourite aroma. Quiet notes of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” whirl through the

air, perfecting the ambiance. The sight of Mariah waiting for my touch as her doe-eyed gaze beckons me closer is the best

gift I’ve ever seen beneath a tree. I take a slow, deliberate breath of gratitude toward the universe for this moment, for

bringing Mariah into my life.

We take turns between kissing and removing clothes until we’re naked, our legs intertwined, side by side, chests pressed flush,

greedy for more.

Pulling her closer, I let my hands make their way up her arms to her shoulders, caressing the line of her jaw, the hollow

of her throat, down her neck and back to her shoulders again. I linger in all the places I want, in no hurry to move any faster,

enjoying the simple act of her lips on mine. I slowly make my way lower, where I trace circles over her breasts, tantalizing

her nipples, and she arches into me until I give her breasts a gentle squeeze.

Mariah’s hands are exploring me, lingering on so many places I’d never before considered to be erotic: the lobes of my ears, my clavicle, down the centre of my chest. Tingles rush from her touch like sparklers on Canada Day, blazing along my skin and meeting in my centre where they pool, gathering heat.

She’s so fucking beautiful it hurts my heart. Her pale skin is flushed, mouth red and plump from kissing. It makes me ache

deep down in my belly. I roll on top of her, pressing my body to hers, and shift my leg up between her thighs. Rolling my

hips against hers, I watch as her lips part and her head tilts back, gasping at the friction. I feel her against my thigh,

so plump and wet and ready, and am torn between moving down her body to kiss between her legs and staying up here with her,

kissing her mouth.

I moan in slight frustration, wishing I could be both places at once. “You know, I’ve never wanted a cock before now, but

I can see the appeal.”

“Mmmm,” she groans, biting her bottom lip. “You in a strap-on would be so hot.”

I freeze. “We could do that?”

Mariah’s smile grows, and she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Of course. We can do whatever we want. Hang on, let me

get something.” I sit up and watch as she leaves the cocoon of our lovemaking to fetch something from her suitcase. She returns

a moment later with a curved purple vibrator. She hands it to me, then returns to her spot on the floor.

I admire the apparatus, turning it over in my hand. I had a vibrator years ago but gave up on it since my body never seemed

to cooperate and it was more work that it was worth. But now, holding it in my hand with Mariah ready and waiting, I’m eager

to see what one of these can do.

Straddling her thigh, I suck on it, getting it wet.

Mariah’s hips wriggle back and forth slowly and she caresses her breasts as she watches.

I play it up a bit more, seeing how she’s enjoying this, taking more time with the toy in my mouth before popping it out and lowering it down.

I turn it on and it buzzes against my palm.

I circle it around Mariah’s labia, watching her body’s reaction, listening to her sounds for how and when I should go further.

“More,” she urges, tilting her hips toward me.

I swallow nervously and try to give her what she wants, but it’s harder to do than with my fingers and I fumble a bit. I press

it toward her entrance, but it doesn’t budge and I’m not sure what to do about it. My heart beats faster. I continue to struggle

with the toy and how to get it inside Mariah without hurting her. “Um, can you help?” I mumble awkwardly.

Mariah nods, reaching down to assist. Once it’s in I can feel a bit more, but the separation of me from her body makes it

more difficult to manoeuvre than when it was just the two of us. I lie more over top of her and do my best to move the vibrator,

trying to listen and watch for Mariah’s cues, but the harder I try the further we seem to get from our goal.

Finally, she relents. “Here, let me do it. Come, kiss me.”

I gladly hand over control of the device and lie down beside her, nuzzling my face into her neck. Returning to my comfort

zone, I make love to her body with my hands and my mouth, and she continues with the toy, working it expertly, bringing herself

to climax as I listen and watch, fascinated—and a bit envious. After the first time she encourages me to try again, her hand

working with mine to show me the rhythm and the angle she likes, and a few minutes later I’m there with her, helping her come

with my mouth on hers and my hands on her body. It feels so good to bring her so much pleasure.

She comes an incredible two more times before we’re through, and I’m absolutely blown away that such things are possible.

Once we’re finished, we get up to wash and then crawl into bed. Mariah falls asleep quickly, her body curled around mine and

face nestled onto my shoulder as my fingers play deftly with her hair.

My knees and back ache from our time on the floor, but making love under the tree was magical. I wish we could make a tradition out of it. But as beautiful as it was sharing that moment with her, and how patient she was with me, I can’t help the nagging worry deep down in the back of my mind...

I’m too inexperienced for her.

She’ll find someone else who actually knows what they’re doing.

And she’ll choose them over me.