The Stocking Was Hung(10)

Noel sighs and rolls her eyes while I stand here wondering what the hell would possibly make her mother think I’m gay. Did she really expect me to maul her daughter right in front of her and stick my tongue down her throat? Not that I’d mind, but I do have some morals and making out with a woman right in front of her family is at the top of my Do Not Do list.

“It’s called a beard, Mom, not a mustache,” Noel corrects her.

“No offense, but that boring kiss says otherwise.” Aunt Bobbie shrugs. “Leon, trade places with me, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

What the f*ck? I am NOT gay!

“It’s okay if you’re gay. We like the gays and we fully support them,” Bev assures me with a kind smile.

“I’m not gay,” I state, finally finding my voice and defending myself.

“Okay, whatever you say,” Bev replies, not believing a word.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I mutter, my hands still on Noel’s hips, wondering if I should just lay one on her to shut everyone up.

“Mom, give it a rest. We’re tired and we’re going to bed.”

I notice Noel doesn’t reiterate that I’m not gay and that doesn’t sit well with me. Sure, that kiss was pretty boring and sad, and you couldn’t even really call it a kiss since it lasted shorter than a blink, but give me a break. We’re standing in her parent’s living room with her mother giving me a pitying look, her ancle staring at me like she wants to eat me whole, and her father cursing under his breath in the kitchen down the hall, the sounds of cartons of milk and containers of sour cream thumping into the bottom of the trash can while he makes sure I stay far away from Noel’s eggnog.

“I’m just saying, a boyfriend should kiss his girlfriend like he means it, not like he’s kissing a dead fish. If it walks like a gay and kisses like a gay…” her mother trails off.

Oh, for f*ck’s sake.

When Noel opens her mouth, probably to tell her mother about how tired we are again instead of defending my heterosexuality, I decide to take matters into my own hands and f*ck the fact that her family is sitting right here looking at us. Letting go of her hips, I quickly move my hands up, grab her face, and turn it toward me, pulling her mouth to mine.

I cut off her words and her breath, sliding my tongue between her surprised, slightly parted lips. A soft moan floats from her mouth into mine when our tongues meet, and I feel her hands against my chest clutch tightly to the front of my shirt when I use my palms to angle her head to the side for better access. I suck her tongue gently, then swirl mine around it, deepening the kiss until I forget where I am and everything around me. She tastes like home cooking and heaven, her mouth hot and wet against mine as our lips move together in perfect sync, like we’ve been kissing for years. There’s no sloppy mess of drool or awkward darting of tongues, there’s just sliding and sucking, tasting and exploring.

My grip on her face tightens just enough so she won’t pull away, and she responds by molding her body to mine until we’re pressed together fully from hip to chest. I can feel the pounding of her heart against mine as our tongues tangle together, the kiss moving well beyond sweet to downright sinful, until my dick is so painfully hard in my jeans that there is no way she can’t feel it between us. She moans softly into my mouth again, and I feel the vibrations on my tongue, turning me on more than anything ever has in my life. With each slide of her perfect, delicious tongue against mine, I feel my balls tighten until they want to explode, wishing we were anywhere but in this living room so I could sink myself inside of her and see if her mouth isn’t the only part of her that’s hot and wet. I’ve lost all sense of time and have no idea how long we’ve been standing here kissing under the marijuana dangling from the ceiling.

Our mouths are molded together until I have no idea where my lips end and hers begin, our tongues battling gently together like they were made to be touching. Our heads move in opposite directions every few seconds to deepen the kiss and I feel Noel’s hands let go of their death grip on my shirt. Her palms flatten again as they skim down my chest and around my body until they are wrapped tightly around my back, holding me as close to her as possible. It’s impossible to stop a moan of my own from releasing into her mouth when the closeness of our bodies makes her hips bump against my dick.

“Definitely not gay.”

The quietly murmured words from across the room break into my horny conscience, and even with Noel’s tongue still in my mouth and her body pressed so tightly up against mine that I can feel every amazing curve, it’s like a bucket of cold water on my libido. With one last thrust of my tongue against hers to make sure she knows this is in no way over, but it has to stop for now since I finally came back down to earth and remembered we have an audience, I slowly pull my mouth away from hers and look down at her face. Her eyes are closed, her lips are wet and plump from the kiss, and they are still parted like she’s just waiting for me to dive back in and keep going.

“I think you’ve had just about enough of my daughter’s cottage cheese.”

Noel’s eyes fly open and I watch her cheeks flush with embarrassment when her dad scolds me, standing right next to us with his foot tapping angrily on the hallway floor.

Dropping my hands from her face, I take a step back from the warmth of her body, hoping the dim lighting in the room hides the massive hard-on I’ve got going on in my jeans.