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Sold on Christmas Eve: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance by Juliana Conners (1)

 

December 23

 

Should I study or should I sleep? Or maybe I should masturbate.

Isn’t this the eternal dilemma of every 19 year old nerdy, overweight college virgin? Or, no. Maybe it’s just the eternal dilemma of this 19 year old nerdy, overweight college virgin.

Not by choice, mind you. The “virgin” part is not by choice but more due to circumstance. The “nerdy” part— and probably most of the “overweight” part— is from having to study so damn much. Which I really should be doing right now.

I wrap the warm woolly blanket around me tighter, hating how cozy the damn thing is. Between its comforting weight and the easy give of the couch, I know I’m fighting a losing battle. In the battle between studying or sleeping, sleeping will win out. And I’m too tired to even get turned on enough to masturbate.

The fact that I can see snow falling outside only makes me fall more in love with the plush cushions underneath me. I snuggle deeper into myself-made cocoon, adoring the way the fluffy drifts of snow kiss the window.

A little ways away from the window, I have my TV on, enjoying the soft murmurs and colors that the screen emits. Much like a digital cup of hot cocoa, there’s something about having the TV on during a dark and cold night that just makes it all the more warm and fuzzy.

I know I should be studying, I murmur to myself, bringing the blanket up to my nose, and my feet up on to the cushions more. I know I should be getting ahead in my reading for next semester, but I don’t want to!

There’s a whine to my voice. Like I’m nine, instead of 19.

But if I don’t, I think, feeling my breath on my cheeks, the quality of my work might suffer. My grades may drop, and if they drop I might lose my scholarship!

From under the blanket, I’ve started to chew my nails. A bad habit. One Mom would get after me about, but she doesn’t know how hard it’s about to get for me.

Can’t have that. School’s expensive as it is, even with the help my scholarship provides. And still I’m going to have to start working to afford everything on my own next semester.

I bring the blanket down off my face, feeling overheated and a bit irritated at myself.

And I’m not even sure if I can work and go to school at the same time and maintain my flawless academic reputation. Which is why I need to be studying, even if it is winter break, I grumble, deciding there will be no more breaks for me. Not this winter.

Until I see his face on my TV screen — the face belonging to one of my most favorite actors. In that moment, every other thought flies out of my head. Studying. Grades. None of it matters, in the face of such rugged beauty.

He’s an older actor. I can’t remember his name, but I’d know his wrinkles anywhere. The sexy smile lines around his eyes. The way his lips curl just that way, when a reporter asks him a personal question. Oh, that’s the thing that always melts me. Combine that with his cool amber eyes (I always think of a Jaguar when I see them), and you have me completely distracted.

Which I am. As I hear him murmur something about how he likes his women smart and driven, I imagine that he’s talking to me. Mariah, he says, leaning close to me, you’re a smart and driven young woman. You work hard for what you want, don’t you? As he leans in further, I imagine I’m smelling his cologne. Like bourbon and marshmallows blended together, but sharper. The collar on his dress shirt caresses my cheek, just before his hand does. I bet you’d like it if you had a man who worked hard for you, wouldn’t you?

On “hard” I realize my hand is down the front of my pajamas, and already buried deep in my pussy. My clit is already rock-hard, and licking at my finger like a lollipop. A light touch sends a shiver through me, despite the layer of blanket. “Yes,” I murmur.

Oops. Guess masturbation is the option that’s going to win out. Thanks, famous actor.

In my head, said famous actor has taken off his suit jacket, and tossed it nonchalantly to the side. On his chest, he wears a trio of gold necklaces — the perfect addition to his dark silk shirt. He closes the distance between us again, beginning to pull away the neckline of the shirt I imagine I’m wearing with just his touch.

In my mind, his rough-around-the edges fingers begin to eagerly seek out my bra, and the nipples underneath. All your other boyfriends have been just that, haven’t they? Boys. As I imagine him saying this, I feel part of a bra melt away. Bend away, as his fingers caress a full, plump nipple, rising to meet him. They’ve been too interested in playing their little video games, haven’t they, Mariah?

At these words, I imagine he’s the one who pinches my naughty fat nipple, not me. I pinch it again, imagining he chuckles at the squeal I give. Oh, you’re so much more fun to play with, Mariah! Such a thirsty girl!

I rub my fingers in and around my clit, with more attention. More deliberate strokes. I keep to one side of my clit, knowing it’s more sensitive than the other. Already, even after just a few stronger rubs, and a bit of tapping near the head, I’m feeling that delicious itch. That hot, almost rashy sensation I get when my clit gets bigger, and my pussy lips fatten.

They didn’t want to play with me, sir, I say, enjoying how my pussy is sucking on me. Holding onto my fingers, the way I wanted to hold onto my boyfriends’ cocks. But we never got that far. They were all good boys who thought I was too “forward.” After a while, I gave up on trying. But you want to, don’t you?

I dig my fingers deeper into my wet, drooling hole, and up the tempo on my penetration. My acrylic nails give me an extra bit of smoothness and texture, and I lean into it. I let it stimulate individual ridges and places along my lips.

You’d like to fuck my virgin pussy, right? I flick my hot and heavy clit, crying out at the surge of pleasure that goes up through my belly. It’s nice and tight for you, sir. I increase the speed of my finger movements, adding another finger this time.

Three fingers. What I imagine my favorite actor’s cock size might be.

Oh, yes, Mariah! says the man of my dreams, in my mind, sucking on both of my nipples that he’s freed from the shirt and bra. I’d love to play with your hungry, young pussy. He’s unzipped the fly on his fancy slacks, and reveals a long, straight cock. The ridges and veins in it are as exciting as they are unnerving. I press my thumb into the body of my clit, rubbing furiously.

Almost immediately, I feel my toes beginning to curl. My back beginning to arch against the couch.

I’ll be happy to give it some experience points. It all plays out so wonderfully in my fantasy. As he speaks, I watch him stroke his long, muscled member. He bends it a bit while stroking. More ridges and veins appear, and his balls suck in seductively. Just turn around, Mariah, and leave the driving to me.

Obediently, I present myself to him. I don’t see what I’ve leaned against, but it doesn’t matter. I shove a fourth finger in my already-stuffed pussy, imagining it’s his large stiff cock. I rock into my fingers, imagining he’s pulled me into his hips, slapping my ass.

With this thought, and an extra finger in me, I feel the tremors starting. I feel my lips and hips shaking, and I imagine he does too. I imagine he feels it and says, Good girl, Mariah. Take it all in.

In my head, I imagine that my fingers, make up the ridges in his shaft. I ride them, feeling every change. Every contour. Every inch, he says, filling me with his full-length. He presses into my womb, making my belly ache.

Oh, good girl! Gently, slowly, I imagine he pulls back some, letting my pussy enjoy everything all over again. Good girl, Mariah. I imagine my movie-star boyfriend pumping me vigorously. I imagine him moaning. Groaning. Oh, such a lusty pussy, he says, I don’t know how your boyfriends passed this up!

Fuck my lusty pussy, I whine, feeling my body twist and tremble. Like a slingshot, a last bit of tension builds up before releasing. Like a cork from a wine bottle, my pussy contracts, forcing my fingers out.

The moment my acrylic nails leave my lips, I cum. It’s hard and spasmodic. I squeal, imagining his thick cock unloading a white Christmas on my ass cheeks. He lets it run in and over my asshole, bragging about how he’s just taken my virginity and is seeing the proof right in front of his eyes. 

I cum a second time, feeling my bladder and tummy tuck in and then jolt out. As they do, I feel a glob of something wet and warm slide into my pajama bottoms.

I let it sit there, feeling delirious. Satisfied.

As I come down off my buzz with a few deep, happy breaths, one thing has become clear to me. I need an older man than those I’ve been half-heartedly trying to date. Someone with more skills in the bedroom than high scores in his video games.

I’ll get on OkCupid, I think, pulling my soaking wet hands out of my pants and out from under my shirt. I’m gonna do that tomorrow, and find a man who’s worthy of me. I grin, still smelling cologne. After I’m done studying, of course.

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