She moved her pelvis forward as I cupped her cheeks, seeking my member. She broke our kiss. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, pushing me away. �...�What?” I didn’t believe my ears. She was already fumbling with the buttons on her dress. “I told you, I just can’t,” she said. The finality of the statement was clear but I was beside myself. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I knew I was showing my immaturity. I was whining. I was also frustrated and pissed. “It feels cheap, I can’t do it.” I. The anticipation of getting here had been maddening. Frankly, I’d worked even harder than usual in November to feel like I deserved the month of December to myself. But first, the package. Bags on the bed, a tip discreetly given, and finally, I’m alone. Curiosity gets the better of me. I rip open the paper wrapping and gasp. A purple cute little vibrator. What has Michael sent me? I open the box and a note flutters to the floor. Michael’s bold hand-writing is clear. Relax. Unwind. And keep this. More

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