And now for a little bit of Blisse. I’ve got LOTS of Christmas stories, here’s a snippet from a brand new story of mine, written for this latesst House of Erotica collection.
Inside you will find a collection of ten Christmas-themed erotic stories. From dressing up to light BDSM and even carol singing, there’s a story to give everyone that warm, fuzzy feeling during the cold winter months. Authors included are: Annabeth Leong, Nicole Gestalt, Maxine Hooper, Angela R Sargenti, Jamie Rose, Nicky Raven, Victoria Blisse, Gemma Parkes, Tilly Hunter and Jade Taylor.
I reach up to the Christmas tree and grab one of the labelled boxes there. The bottom to it is missing and I slip it over my head. There are a few small air holes to make sure I can breathe but they can’t really be seen from a distance. I slide my hand into the wrapping paper glove and lie back to wait.
My breath rattles against the cardboard, I’m warming up the air around me with my expirations. The woody paper scent tickles my nostrils as I strain to hear my husband’s steps on the stairs. I’m aroused. It isn’t the rough touch of the wrinkling wrap that’s turning me on, it’s wondering what will happen after Grant finds me and unwraps me. My nipples strain and rub against the slick layer covering them. I wonder if the moisture between my thighs has transferred itself to my covering where it rests beneath my bum.
Confined and constrained I wait. The clock ticks away the time , each second ticking away so slowly but then I hear the creak of a floorboard and my stomach clenches. There’s no more sounds from upstairs and I think that maybe it was a false alarm-the house settling as my Nan would have said-but just as I’m giving up and resigning myself to some more time restricted and stretched out on the floor I hear the pad, pad, pad of Grant coming down the stairs.
My mouth dries, I gulp. Blood thumps round in my veins, I’m very aware of my heart pumping the lust around my body. The living room door clicks open and I hold my breath in anticipation.
“Hmmm, what’s this,” he drawls, the cocoon of sleep clinging to him still. I feel the vibration more than hear his steps approaching my head. He reaches down and flips open the gift tag, held on with a bright red bow.
“Oh, it’s for me, I wonder what it could possibly be?” He runs a hand across the top of me, from my breasts to my stomach, I nigh on bite through my lip attempting to hold back a moan.
“Maybe I should wait for Claire before I start opening my presents.”
He’s teasing me now, the sod. I have to hold still and be quite or I’ll spoil the surprise. It’s a strange kind of bondage, BDSM with holly patterns and sticky tape.