As if his cheeky photos, with the white teeth, mischievous smile and tousled hair weren’t enough, Frankie’s body in the flesh was so perfect it almost pained her to look at it. He had the kind of physique that looked photo shopped, looks that people spent lifetimes trying to achieve and he carried it all with a cavalier nonchalance that blew her away. Did he not know he was gorgeous? That teenage girls would plaster their walls with those pictures he graciously took? That he would ruin fantasies by surpassing the dream guy just by sweeping the floor?
She nearly fainted when he tongue fucked her. When he pushed her around, she swooned so hard so could feel it in her pelvic floor. But when Frankie penetrated her to the hilt, Amber knew she’d be a goner. It wasn’t just because he had an amazing cock or because he looked so perfect. Amber lost herself in Frankie because he was perfect for her.
When he slid in and out of her she vibrated on the inside, her body a tuning fork calibrated to his pleasure alone. A chill swept through her body leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Frankie commanded her hips like he owned her and the gesture made Amber feel innocent, demure, and malleable, all qualities that she wasn’t used to possessing. Yet under his touch, it felt like those were the very thing she was becoming. She let go of pretense and worrying about being right or being perfect or living up to standards that made her feel miserable.
She pressed back into Frankie and met him thrust for thrust. His hips slammed into her ass and the table inched across the floor as they fucked. He wrapped the fingers from one hand around her neck and the nails from the other dug into the flesh at her hip. Amber collapsed her arms and her face fell against the cool acrylic of the table. She closed her eyes slowly and reopened them.
“Security cameras,” she said to Frankie.
“Fuck ‘em,” Frankie replied.
“You could lose your job,” Amber said.
“I already quit,” Frankie told her. He pulled out, flipped her and then yanked Amber to his chest. In her red heels, she was nearly as tall as him. He cupped her breasts and pinched her nipples, devoured her neck where it sloped to her shoulder. Amber looked into his eyes and lost herself in the connection she felt with him. He pushed her back again, this time, ass against the table. His knee kicked hers to spread her legs for him and he penetrated her again. Missionary. Their kisses were ferocious, fiery and still tasting of lingering whiskey and cinnamon.
Amber felt the brush of his fingertips across her stomach, when he flattened his palm she savored the rough contact of his lifting callouses. He applied gentle pressure with the heel of his palm over her clit as he slid in and out of her. That coupled with the thrust and drag of his thick length made Amber start to thrash on the table. She couldn’t contain her orgasm as it raced ahead of her then descended through body pulsing like a strobe light. Frankie started to fall apart at the apex of her crescendo. He thrust into her viciously and she knew her hips would bruise, that she would feel the brand of his passion well into tomorrow. Frankie groaned and cursed when he came, pulled out and shot pearly threads of semen onto her abdomen. He immediately collapsed on top of her and gently bit her shoulder.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked. His voice sounded hoarse, from sex or whiskey or maybe both.
“No,” Amber told him. She slid out from under him as he turned so that they were lying on their sides, face to face. The hunger was gone from his eyes and he looked sated, like a feasted cat. “I hope they never let us out,” she said to him with a grin. There was a red hot stuck to her back. Frankie pulled it off and placed it on his tongue.
“We’ll just subsist off of candy canes and whiskey?” he asked.
“And sex. Plus, there’s a vending machine.”
Frankie kissed her deeply and Amber blushed at his affection. He traced her hairline, the bridge of her nose, her upper lip, before kissing her again.
“How much should we sell our sex tape for?” Frankie asked her. His smile was punchy.
“We should destroy it tonight,” Amber said sitting up.
“Good luck, security is upstairs. We’ll bribe Clyde tomorrow.” He threw an arm behind his head and Amber snuggled into his chest. She still had her red shoes on. Amber, did you ever wear those shoes before, you know-“
“Never,” she responded. “I was waiting for you.”
Frankie pulled his phone out the pocket of his coveralls. He reached his arm far above them and rotated the camera taking a photo of the two of them from the shoulders up.
“They can still tell we’re naked.”
“Happy Holidays from Fit_and_Full_Frankie and Red_Jimmy_Shoes!” Amber watched him caption the photo. He tagged her and Lou and posted it to Instagram.
“Would it freak you out if I told you this is my most favorite Christmas ever?”
Amber propped up her head leaning on her elbow. She took in Frankie, his dazzling good-looks and his striking humility. Amber laced her leg across his body and slid on top of him straddling his hips. His cock was still semi-hard and surged again with her invitation.
“Christmas isn’t over until the next shift has to clock in.”