For the Love of Holly: Part

3

Holiday with Holly.

on a post  by want some fun .

Listen to the Podcast at Steamy

Stories.

on a post  by want some fun .

Listen to the Podcast at Steamy

Stories.

When we got out to my car, I said, "What just happened in there?"

"I think Santa is coming early to South Street," Holly said.

"That guy was a little over the top, wasn't he?" I laughed.

"Yeah, but I think it's great."

"So do I," I said.

We were quiet during most of the drive back to Holly's apartment. When I parked

the car and walked her to her door, she asked, "Will you stay with me

tonight?"

"We both have classes tomorrow, Holly, so maybe I should just go

home."

"What about breakfast?"

"I could pick you up and we could go somewhere before we have to be at

school."

"James, please stay with me tonight."

"I don't think my back can take another night on your couch."

"Who said anything about the couch?"

I couldn't believe she had said that. "I don't know, Holly."

"Don't you like me?" she asked, with a little bit of a pout.

"It's not that at all, believe me. I'm starting to like you a whole lot.

But I don't want to hurt you."

"James, I'm not that fragile. I don't hurt easily."

"Okay then, I don't want to hurt myself. I told you, I promised myself,

after Marcy, that I wasn't going to rush into anything. I'm being honest here.

I think I could fall for you, hard, but I'm just not sure I'm ready."

"Here's an idea," Holly said. "I have a big bed. I'll sleep

under the sheet, and you can sleep on top of the sheet. We'll share the

blankets, but that's it. What do you normally wear to bed?"

"Usually, I just take off my shoes, socks, and jeans and sleep in my

t-shirt and boxers."

"Okay, I sleep in a big t-shirt or one of my football jerseys. I'll change

in the bathroom and get in bed, then you can undress in the bathroom. I'll turn

the bedroom light off so we won't be able to see each other when you come to

bed. It'll be completely innocent."

I remembered how innocent I definitely did not feel when I woke up with her tit

in my hand and my cock poking her ass the other morning.

Holly wasn't giving up easily. "I make a mean blueberry waffle. I have a

new toothbrush you can have. I washed your shirt from the other night, so

you'll have a clean shirt for school. And I just want to be near you. Please,

James?"

"The waffle did it," I laughed. "Come on, girl, let's go

inside."

Holly got us some sodas, and then sat down at her computer. "I want to see

what's going on with those websites," she said.

She keyed in an address, and a picture of the outside of the kitchen came on

screen, with a large group of our customers milling around outside. The shot

must have been taken just before we had opened for Thanksgiving dinner. There

were tabs that led to pages about the foundation, a brief profile of Ma, our

mission statement, the annual reports from the last five fiscal years, and a

projection of the expenses for the coming year, along with our projection of

the number of meals which would need to be served, showing a severe shortage in

funds. There was also a link to the Culinary Arts school's fundraiser website.

At the bottom of each page on the website was the phone number for pledges.

Holly clicked on the link to the fundraiser. Of course, there was a link to the

Technical Institute's main website, but the primary thrust of the site was our

class' fundraiser. The first page included a video file of the 11 o'clock news

feature story we had watched. There were tabs that showed pictures of the

treats we were preparing, along with a description of each item, a downloadable

order form, a price list, a "contact us" tab which allowed the reader

to e-mail the school for more information, an on-line contribution pledge page,

and, of course, the main toll-free number for making pledges.

"Let's call the pledge line," I said.

"Good idea," Holly said. "We can pledge the money we were going

to spend on decorations."

rang, and a very professional female voice recording told us a little about the

kitchen and the fundraising campaign, with Christmas carols playing softly in

the background. Eventually, a live male voice came on the line. "Hello,

thank you for calling the South Street Community Kitchen donation line. I'm

Mike Samuels. How can I help you?"

"Mike Samuels?" I said. "Aren't you the TV guy who was at the

kitchen on Thanksgiving?"

"Yes, I am. How can I help you?"

"I'm James Summers. I work at the kitchen. You interviewed me."

"Oh yes, James, I remember you."

"Why are you answering this phone?"

"Hah! This pledge line has gotten so busy that station management asked

staff to donate some time to help out. I was there at the kitchen, James. How

could I refuse? Some of our radio deejay's are here, along with some staffers

from the paper. Right now, there are about ten of us taking calls. Now, I don't

want to seem rude, but we have some callers on hold, so is there anything I can

do for you?"

"I'd like to make a donation. It's not much, but it's all I can

afford."

"You probably know better than I do that every penny helps," Mike

said. "We've had everything from pledges of $5000 and more from local

businessmen down to a three-year old kid who emptied her piggy bank on the

receptionist's desk at the studio. That little girl gave $1.87. It was

everything she had. Her picture will be on page one of the morning paper."

I quickly made my donation pledge, Mike thanked me, and I hung up the phone.

Holly said, "Was that supposed to include my money too?"

"No," I said, "I kind of forgot you wanted to give too. I guess

you'll have to call back."

"But James, that was twice the amount you said you were going to spend on

decorations."

"I know, but I guess I just got carried away. It's Okay, the kitchen needs

it."

"You're such a sweet guy," Holly said. "I'll call in my pledge

tomorrow. It's late. Let's go to bed."

We went into Holly's room, and she pulled a well-worn football jersey out of

her bureau. "Be right back," she said, heading to the bathroom. I

could hear her in there, and my mind was picturing what she might look like as

she undressed. In a few minutes, she came out. The jersey was short, and I

could see all of her smooth, beautifully shaped legs. It was obvious that she

wasn't wearing a bra, since I could see her pointy nipples poking against the

fabric. When she got in bed, I got a glimpse of a pair of tiny pink panties

which did a poor job of covering her luscious-looking ass. I swallowed hard.

"Are you just going to stand there, silly, or are you going to get ready

for bed?" she teased. "If you're too shy, I'll turn the light off

when you come out of the bathroom."

"Okay, yes, I want you to turn the light off," I said as I closed the

bathroom door behind me.

I quickly stripped down to my boxers and t-shirt, brushed my teeth, and then

came out. True to her word, Holly had the light off. There was a small

nightlight on the one wall that helped me navigate to the bed. I pulled back

the covers and climbed in next to her.

"I thought you were sleeping on top of the sheet," Holly giggled as

she snuggled in against me.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" I started to get out of bed, but Holly grabbed

my arm.

"It's Okay, I trust you. I know what your feelings are, and I respect

them. But please, James, will you hold me until I fall asleep?"

I looked at her. In the dim light, I could make out all the lovely features of

her face. I began to lightly stroke her hair with my fingers, and then to

caress her face. "You're beautiful, Holly."

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself," Holly said as she smiled.

Her dimples always became very pronounced when she smiled.

I leaned in to kiss her mouth. It wasn't long until our kisses changed from

warm to hot. God, I wanted this girl. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to

be in love with her, all of her; mind, body, and soul. But I just couldn't let

myself.

Without even realizing it, I had moved my one hand down to Holly's tit. Her

nipple was hard, straining against her thin shirt. I felt her legs part, and my

one thigh went between hers. Her hand was stroking my back, then my hip, and

then began to work its way forward toward my very erect cock that was

threatening to pop out of my boxers.

I forced myself to regain control of my feelings. "Holly, I can't do this.

I'm just not ready. If I make love to you, I want it to be because I love you,

not just because I want you. Can you understand that?"

"I understand, James. You're special. You're not like some of the guys

I've gone out with, who want the physical part first, and wait to see if an

emotional bond can develop. I like you the way you are, and I respect

that." She kissed me again, passionately, and then more gently. Finally,

she said, "May I go to sleep with my head on your chest?"

"I wish you would," I whispered.

Nothing more really happened that night. I woke up a few times as we shifted

our positions in our sleep. One time, I found myself spooned tightly against

Holly, my hand over her tit, and her hand holding it in place. Another time, I

felt her spooning against my back. I think the thing that woke me was her hand

against my cock, although I could tell by her breathing that she was asleep.

In the morning, Holly kissed me awake. "Breakfast is almost ready,"

she said. I opened my eyes to the wonderful sight of Holly leaning over me. I

doubt she realized it, but I could see down the neck of her jersey, with a good

shot of her tits. If the neck opening had been just the slightest bit looser, I

would have been able to see her nipples. I quickly rolled on my side, hoping

she didn't notice how my body reacted to the view.

"I have to get back in the kitchen before things start burning," she

said. "Get up, sleepy-head."

God, what was I going to do? Should I just give in to temptation, throw caution

to the wind, and let myself go with this girl?

"James, get up! I'm serving your food," Holly called from her

kitchen.

I quickly stuffed my hard-on into my jeans, attempted to adjust myself to not

be conspicuous, and went to the kitchen.

Holly was already seated. There was a plate of steaming blueberry waffles in

front of both of us, along with grapefruit halves and mugs of coffee. In the

center of her small table between us, there was a plate of nicely browned

sausage links.

"You make a hell of a breakfast," I said.

"I believe that breakfast is the most important meal of the day,"

Holly said, "so I like to have a good one."

As we ate, we talked about what the coming week was going to bring. I knew it

was going to be busy, with less than two weeks until the fundraiser and less

than four weeks until Christmas. I wondered how much time I would get to spend

with Holly away from the kitchen.

When we were done eating, Holly said, "You go and shower while I do the

dishes. You have a longer trip to school than I do. If I catch the 7:40 bus at

the corner, I'll make it to class on time."

I went in the bathroom, and got in the shower. When I got out, I found my clean

shirt folded on the vanity. I knew it hadn't been there when I had gotten in

the shower, which meant Holly must have come into the room while I bathed.

I was standing in front of the mirror, dressed only in my boxers, drying my

hair, when Holly came in.

"I heard the water shut off, and I figured you'd be decent by now. I'm

sorry, but I have to get my ass in gear."

When I realized she was going to strip right there, I turned away. That meant I

was looking in the mirror, which was really no better. I stood mesmerized,

watching Holly pull her jersey over her head. Her belly was flat, smooth, and

beautiful. Next I saw her tits, perky, medium-sized, perfectly shaped, with

small pink areola and erect, pencil-eraser nipples. As if that wasn't enough,

she then slipped off her little pink panties. Her puffy little mound sported a

tiny triangle of close-cropped blond hair, but the rest of her sex appeared to

be clean-shaven. Oh God, how I fought for control!

I don't know if Holly caught me looking. She quickly got in the shower and

pulled the curtain, which I now realized was translucent. I shook my head to

clear it, and finished getting dressed. "Holly, I've got to go," I

said.

James!" she cried. She leaned her wet head out of the shower, holding the

curtain against her body in a poor attempt to hide herself. "Can I have a

kiss goodbye?"

Resisting the urge to tear my clothes off and jump in the shower with her was

one of the most difficult things I've ever done. But I did resist. I gave Holly

a nice, warm kiss and then fled the apartment.

I was in a trance when I got to class. All I could think about was Holly. I'm sure

I looked like a complete idiot when Mr. Fredricks had to say, loudly, "Mr.

Summers, it was good of you to bring your body to class today, but I was hoping

that you would have brought your brain, too! Would you be kind enough to pay

attention to what's going on in here?"

I snapped myself out of it, and did manage to pay attention. The gist of what

Mr. Summers was saying was that our fundraiser had the potential to be the

biggest thing the school had ever done. Although there would normally be both a

written and a performance exam at the end of the semester which would count as

half of our grade, he had decided to eliminate the formal exam and to grade us

solely on our performance in relation to the fundraiser. That was good to hear.

Between my job, my work at the kitchen, the fundraiser, and my new

preoccupation with Holly, I couldn't imagine how I would have found time to

cram for a written final exam.

Every waking moment that week that I did not spend at my job was devoted to

preparing for the fundraiser. I did manage to call Holly a few times, but she

was busy, too, since she was going to have to endure the horrors of finals in

her courses.

Saturday dawned cold and wet, with a forecast of freezing rain and snow late in

the day, so I knew the kitchen was going to be packed. JZ was the first one I

saw when I got to the kitchen. "My man," he said with a huge grin,

"get your white ass into the dining room!"

I was amazed. Chris K. and his "elves" had transformed our plain,

somewhat dingy mess hall into a bright, cheerful Christmas wonderland. Tiny

colored lights sparkled everywhere, the windows (which the elves had washed)

were festooned with candy canes, sugarplums, wreaths, and snowflakes, and the

tree was magnificent.

"Damn, boy, your Santa wannabe buddy did a hell of a job on this place,

didn't he?" JZ said. "Holly come in all excited on Monday and told me

about it, but man, you should a seen the look on her face the first time she

seen it. I was with her, and I thought she was 'bout ready to pass out! Ma sure

was happy, too. Wait till she sees you. She gonna crush you with one of them

big hugs."

"Yeah," Yolanda said as she came into the room, "I gotta give

the new Saint of South Street a big hug myself before Ma squeezes the life

outta you. James, I knew you could do big things!"

Holly came in shortly afterward. "Ma wants to talk to us. Come on,"

she said with a grin.

When we found Ma, she said, "Come here, you two. I don't know what all

you've been up to, but I'm at a complete loss for words! Kids, I'm so happy.

The dining room looks so wonderful. A lot of our regulars have sought me out to

tell us how happy they are to see the place all fixed up for Christmas. Their

kids are happy, because a lot of them have never had Christmas with a tree and

lights before. Good lord, I bet some of them have never had Christmas indoors!

This was the best surprise ever!

"And there's more. James, I guess you didn't know about this, since I

think you would have told me, but the construction trades classes at your school

are going to start work after the holidays on a project here. There's a lot of

un-improved vacant space in this old factory building. They're going to expand

our kitchen and dining area and then renovate the existing part. All the

materials and equipment are being donated by local companies, and most of the

work will be done at night after the dining room closes. They've even gotten

grant money to hire and pay some of the neighborhood people for general labor

help. This is a dream come true! Now come here and let your old Ma give you a

big hug."

When I was able to breathe again after Ma's bear hug, I said, "I talked to

my probation officer. He's given me permission to leave right after lunch next

Saturday so I can be at our fundraiser, if that's Okay with you."

"Of course it is, James. He already called me. I told him we needed your

help here, of course, but I also told him that the help you were giving us with

the fundraiser was even more important. Plus, I understand from your Mr.

Fredricks that you're sort of required to be there," Ma said.

"I could have worked it out with Mr. Fredricks so I would have still

gotten credit for the fundraiser if my P.O. and you wouldn't have agreed, but

thank you. I guess the fundraiser should be my first priority next weekend,"

I said.

The day went by quickly. At the end of the day, I took Holly home, went home

and got cleaned up, and then went back to her place to take her out for a late

dinner.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" Holly asked.

"I have to be up at dawn to go over to school to do some prep work for the

fundraiser. Hell, it seems that's all I've done all week. After the fundraiser

is over, my life should return to normal. I'll make it up to you, I swear. It's

killing me not to be able to spend time with you. Can you forgive me?"

"Oh James, don't be silly, of course I forgive you. This is very important

to you, and it's something you have to do for school. These courses are for

your future. Just know that I'll be thinking of you," Holly said,

"and if there's anything I can do to help, I will."

The following week was completely crazy. I went to school early every morning,

stayed as late as I dared without making myself late for my job, and then went

home and collapsed. By Saturday, I was actually dreading the fundraiser.

Saturday at the kitchen, the fundraiser was all anyone could talk about.

Everyone on staff wished me luck, and some of our customers spoke to me to

offer their best wishes and their thanks, too. As soon as I could, I left the

kitchen, rushed home, showered, dressed in my freshly pressed white pants,

shirt with the school logo, and toque (the floppy white headpiece traditional

chefs wear). And then I raced to school.

The place was a madhouse of activity. The local TV station was doing a live feed

from the school, as was the AM radio station and one of the FM stations. All of

my classmates were psyched, and Mr. Fredricks was beaming. I got to work.

Just before the opening time, Mr. Fredricks pulled me away from the others.

"James, I want to talk to you."

"What is it, Mr. Fredricks?"

"Have you seen the final guest list?" he asked.

"No. I know it was being circulated in class yesterday, but I was too busy

to look at it."

"James, every major restaurant in this city is going to have at least one

person here, either the master chef or the owner. Several luxury resorts are

sending people to sample our wares. The food critics from our own paper, and

from several out of town papers are going to be here. Every member of the

school's board of directors is coming. The mayor and his wife are going to be

here, along with several state legislators, and the governor's office bought

four tickets. I just thought you should know what you started. And by the way,

you've got an A+ for the semester. Now, let's see what job offers you

get."

"Thanks, Mr. Fredricks. But let's not count this as a success until it's

over," I said.

"I guess you're right, James, but I hope you realize that none of this

would have happened if it weren't for you," he said. Then Mr. Fredricks

clapped his hands loudly. "Okay, people. This is it. The doors open in

five minutes. It's show time!"

The crowd was impressive. Men in suits or evening clothes and women in elegant

gowns sampled our wares. The people manning the tables where orders were being

taken had to make several trips to the copier for more forms. Credit cards were

being processed as quickly as possible, and our till filled rapidly with checks

and cash. There was an additional table, which we only thought to set up at the

last minute, which actually had a line of people making donations, above and

beyond what they were spending at our little "bake sale."

About an hour before our 9pm closing time, one of my classmates poked me in the

ribs. "Isn't that the woman from the kitchen and that girl she brought

along to our meetings at Mr. Fredricks' house?"

I looked where he was pointing. There was Ma, in an ivory floor-length evening

dress. Even though it probably used enough fabric to make dresses for three

normal-sized women, the dress looked wonderful on her. Next to her stood JZ. He

was wearing a purple crushed velvet tuxedo, with matching purple do-rag. On his

arm was Yolanda, who actually looked classy for once. And then I saw Holly. She

had her hair up in an elegant, formal style, and was wearing the classic

"little black dress," black stiletto heels, and an onyx choker

necklace.

"My God," my classmate said, "that chick is gorgeous! You work

with her at the kitchen, right? You gotta introduce me."

"Don't count on it," I said.

When they made it over to my table, Ma crushed me in one of her massive hugs.

"Jimmy-boy," she said, "you've made a fat old woman very

happy."

JZ slapped me five. "My man, this be the finest thing I ever did see. I

can't hardly wait to be a part of this next year!"

do you mean, JZ?" I asked.

"I just got accepted to this school for the fall. You gonna be outta here

this spring. Someone has to take over the work you did for this fundraiser. I

figured, who better than me, a black recovering crack addict from the streets

who knows that kitchen inside and out? So, I'm gonna be a chef in two years,

just like you. And I'm coming' to you looking' for work. You gonna own your own

successful restaurant by then, I bet, and you gonna be looking' for help. That's

me."

Yolanda said, "JZ's been released from the half-way house. He needed a

place to live, so he's rooming with me. Sorry, James, but I like dark chocolate

a whole lot more than vanilla. Besides, I'd get in the way of a very special

young lady." Yolanda then surprised me by kissing me on the lips. "I

love you, boy. You are now officially the Saint of South Street. I told Ma, if

there was enough money, we should put up a statue of you in the dining

room."

Holly then came to me. Right in front of everyone, she drew me against her and

kissed me. It was not a sexual kiss, but it certainly spoke volumes to anyone

who saw it. I thought I had died and gone to Heaven.

Soon after that, Mike Samuels, the TV guy, came over to me. "James, he

said, I wish I could tell you how much money your group has raised, but the

donation lines are still open at the studio. I can tell you that this

fundraiser is going to be the lead story on the 11 o'clock news again, and the

newspaper has already told me that their article is going to be on the front

page of the Sunday paper. Our media company is footing the bill to keep the

websites up and running all through next year, and the donation line will stay

operational as long as donations keep coming in. James, this is huge."

I didn't even get to say goodnight to Holly before she, Ma, Yolanda, and JZ

left, and it took us until almost midnight to get everything cleaned up and put

away. When I got home, there was a note taped to my door. It simply said,

"I'm sure you're exhausted. You helped to make a lot of people happy

tonight. Call me when you can. Love, Holly."

I unlocked my door, stripped off my clothes, and slept ten hours.

I wasn't scheduled to work at the kitchen on Sunday, which was a good thing. I

was too drained to even think about working there. But I did go in to have

lunch with Holly.

When I got there, Ma greeted me. She was smiling the biggest smile I'd ever

seen. "Jimmy-boy, you are my hero. I don't have final numbers yet, but

we've already covered our budget for the next year and a half. And the pledges

are still coming in. You earned us far more money than I thought possible, even

in my wildest dreams. You not only provided the first real Christmas dinner a

lot of our people have had for years, you've made it possible for us to feed

all of them, and more, for a long time to come. I guess I can't call you

Jimmy-boy anymore. You're now James. And we all love you."

Yolanda and JZ had come in while Ma was talking. "All hail St. James of

South Street," they yelled. The staff started to applaud and cheer. I

wanted to crawl under the nearest stove and hide.

"You here for lunch, James?" Yolanda said.

"Yeah, I thought I'd like to have lunch with Holly," I said.

"Where is she?"

"Out in the dining room. She hoped you'd come by. I'll let you two

love-birds alone," Yolanda said with a wink.

When I walked into the dining room, Holly looked up, and came running over to

me. "James, I'm so glad you're here. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you last

night."

"How did you embarrass me?" I asked.

"By kissing you the way I did. Can you forgive me?"

"On one condition," I said. "Kiss me that way again."

"I think I can manage that." She melted into my arms.

Before I knew it, it was time for Holly to get back to work. "Can I see

you this week?" I asked.

"I want to James, but I have a paper to finish and a couple of exams at

school."

"I'll call you every night on my lunch break at work. I'm going to be real

busy during the day, helping to prepare all the food we sold at the fundraiser.

But starting Saturday, I'll be here every day through Christmas. Mr. Fredricks

excused me from delivery duty with the food sales, so I can spend all my time

here."

"James, how many more hours do you have to spend on your community

service?" Holly asked.

"I don't really know. I guess I should be done by late winter. I lost

count. But I don't care. I can't see myself ever leaving here."

"I was afraid I was going to have to say goodbye to you," Holly said

softly.

"Not until you're sick of me," I answered.

"I can't see that happening," Holly said, and then she kissed me

again.

Holly and I spoke on the phone every night the following week, but I didn't get

to see her until Saturday, the last Saturday before Christmas. The work that

day was like any other Saturday, but we were all excited about the plans for

Friday, Christmas day.

Ma came to our work area as we were putting the finishing touches on the first

three kettles of lunch soup. "Kids, you're going to love this. We're

serving our usual breakfast on Christmas, but there will be no soup preparation

on Christmas day. Three local restaurants have formed a committee that is doing

all our food prep for the main meal. The menu for Christmas dinner is turkey,

ham, all the traditional fixings like candied yams, cranberry sauce, mince pie

and pumpkin pie, the works. They're donating and preparing all the food in

their kitchens and trucking it here. All we have to do is keep it warm and

serve it. And they're making enough food for five hundred people! We're opening

the dining room at noon and staying open until 4pm, or until no one can eat any

more. And that's it. Everyone has Christmas night off!"

Ma quickly wiped a tear from her eye and turned and walked away, a spring in

her step I had never seen before.

Yolanda broke the silence that followed. "Ma said to me when I came in

that she had something big to tell us. I'm surprised she didn't tell you two

that the kitchen now has the budget to run on a bigger scale for over two

years. I ain't never seen Ma cry before. James, you did it!" She hugged me

and kissed me on both cheeks.

When we broke apart, I saw Holly standing there. "I thought you two were

never going to give me my turn," she said as she put her arms around me.

"James, thank you. This has been a dream for a lot of people, and you've

made it come true."

We sailed through the rest of the day. When we closed up for the night, I

dropped Holly off at her apartment and went home to clean up for a celebration

dinner I was going to take her to. We had a wonderful evening, but I went home

to my own place after our date.

Every day that week was the same at the kitchen; our usual breakfast, lunch,

and dinner fare. We had to work extra hard to provide more servings, since our

crowd was growing every day. Apparently the street people had heard all about

our Christmas dinner, and were intent on sampling our wares. After work, Holly

and I would have dinner, sometimes out, sometimes at her place, and once at

mine. That night we spent several hours working on my resume, since I had

gotten a number of requests for it from restaurant owners who had been at our

fundraiser. We were always exhausted, so we would say goodnight at a decent

hour and go our separate ways.

I was at the kitchen by 4am on Christmas day. I was too excited to sleep.

Breakfast was the usual fare, served to an exceptionally large crowd. By 10:30

am, there was already a line at the door, waiting for Christmas dinner. The

restaurant trucks began showing up a little after 11, and the excitement in our

kitchen was almost overwhelming.

Christmas dinner was everything anyone could have hoped for. I spent the day in

the kitchen, helping to warm the food, carve the turkeys and hams, and keep the

servers supplied. Holly worked the serving line. Every time she came back to

the kitchen for more food, we took a half-minute kiss break. And everyone saw

it. I couldn't have cared less.

Ma called me into her office when the serving line closed. "I don't have

anything wrapped to give you for Christmas, but I do have a gift. A dear friend

of mine owns a very exclusive restaurant downtown. He's ill, James. With any

luck, he'll live about three more years. He is his own executive chef, but he

needs a bright young man to learn his recipes and take over for him. The job's

yours if you want it."

"Ma, I don't know what to say," I managed to say.

"You could say, 'Thank you,' or 'Merry Christmas,' but before you say

anything, I need to tell you the rest. Listen carefully. My friend, the

restaurant owner, has no heirs, so he was looking for a buyer for his business.

I've seen his books. He's shown a nice profit every month for over twenty

years. Even now, in this economy, the place makes money. The problem is, when

he is no longer able to cook, he doesn't know what will happen, which is one

reason he wants to sell.

"The foundation has repaid the entire loan I had given them, the one from

me mortgaging my house. I used that money, and some other investments I had,

and bought controlling interest in the place. He will stay on as long as he can.

Our deal is that I can pay off the balance from the profits my shares in the

place generate, which will support him when he can no longer work. When he

dies, the remaining shares will be divided among several key employees,

including the man who replaces him as executive chef. That man, I hope will be

you."

"Ma, I...," I began.

"There's more James, so hear me out," Ma said. "I also have no

heirs. The foundation that runs our kitchen will receive a portion of my

estate, but I am prepared to bequeath my shares in the restaurant to you,

James, if you can run the place and keep it profitable. You've become like a

son to me, and I want you to have this."

I sat in dumbfounded silence for a moment. Then I said, "Why, Ma? Why

me?"

"Let's just say that it seems fitting that the man who saved my dream,

this kitchen, should have a chance at his own dream, owning a fine restaurant.

Think it over if you want to. You probably should go and meet the owner before

you say anything at all. Wait until after the holidays, and then make an

appointment to see him. Now, go home, James. And Merry Christmas." 

By this time, the dining room was dark and the kitchen was spotless. It was

time to go home.

"James, you're spending tonight with me."

"Yes, Holly, I want to," I said.

We drove to Holly's apartment and went inside. Her little Christmas tree

sparkled merrily in the corner of the living room. "I'm so upset,"

Holly said. "With finals, and the kitchen, and all the craziness, I didn't

buy you a Christmas gift."

I felt relieved. "I didn't get you anything either."

"That's Okay. Good, in fact. Because I do have one thing I want to give

you, and there's something I want you to give me," Holly said. "Wait

here."

She went into her room and closed the door. I sat on the sofa, not knowing what

was going on. In a few minutes, her bedroom door opened. "Come here,

James," she said.

I walked into the room. Scented candles were the only light, and they filled

the air with the smell of holiday spices. Then I saw Holly. She was wearing a

green satin dressing gown, tied with a red sash.

"I want to give myself to you, and I want you to give yourself to me. I

love you," she said.

I took her in my arms. I kissed her, and she kissed me back. We crushed

ourselves against each other. With each kiss, our passion grew. I knew that she

was what I had wanted for a long time.

We broke our embrace and gazed into each other’s eyes. "I love you too,

Holly. I guess I've loved you for a long time, but I was never able to say it

until now. But, Holly, I do love you."

I untied the sash holding her gown together, and slowly slipped the garment off

her shoulders. This was the first time I had seen her body clearly, and I was

intoxicated by her. Her skin was perfect, pale and glowing in the candle light.

Her blond hair framed her beautiful face perfectly. Her ripe lips smiled at me,

and her dimples drew me in. Her tits stood proudly on her chest, her beautiful

nipples erect. Her slender torso called to me with its perfection. A small

blond triangle of carefully trimmed hair topped her mound, and the lips of her

sex glistened with moisture, promising the thrill that awaited me.

"Let me unwrap my gift now, my darling," Holly said.

Slowly, carefully, tenderly, she undressed me. As every area of my body was exposed,

she caressed it, first with her delicate warm fingers, and then with her lips.

Finally, there was only one piece of clothing to go; my boxers. She struggled

for a second with them, the waistband being hung up on my straining erection.

When my shorts were finally at my feet, Holly began to fondle my cock gently

with her fingertips. She then kissed the tip, letting her tongue dart out

briefly to lick away the thick, clear fluid that had appeared there.

"I want you James," she whispered.

"I want you too, Holly," I breathed as she took my manhood into her

mouth.

With her tongue, she bathed my entire length. She stroked my scrotum with her

nails. I don't think I had ever been so hard, and I know I had never

experienced such joy from the ministrations of a woman to my sex.

After a few minutes, Holly stood and pressed her body to mine. "Make love

to me, James. I want you inside me."

We went to her bed. She lay down on her back, her arms outstretched to hold me.

I lay down with her, and began to worship her body. My hands stroked every inch

of her. My mouth enveloped first one of her tits, then the other. As I licked

and suckled her nipples, she moaned her delight.

I could smell the sweet, musky aroma of her sex, and my mouth was soon drawn to

it. She trembled with anticipation as I kissed and nibbled on her thighs, and

she spread her legs in invitation. Moving slowly, I made my way to her center.

When I first ran the tip of my tongue over her lips, she gasped. I hardened my

tongue to probe inside her, and she whimpered. And when I finally began to suck

on her engorged clit, she cried out her orgasm and said, "James, please,

baby, I need you to take me."

I moistened the head of my cock by stroking it over her shiny, wet  cunt.

Slowly, I began to ease my way inside. She was as tight as I had dreamed she

would be. Using short, slow strokes, I advanced. When I was all the way inside,

I leaned down to kiss her. We stayed like that for a while, our loins joined

but still, enjoying the love we shared, expressing it only with our lips and

tongues.

"I love you, Holly," I said. Very slowly, I withdrew about half way,

and then, just as slowly, pushed myself inside her again. We had all the time

in the world, and we both wanted this, our first lovemaking, to last. We moved

together, my slow thrusts answered by the luxurious movement of her hips to

meet me. It was a long time before she wrapped her legs around me, but after

she did, our pace increased. Her breaths became more rapid, and her pussy

muscles began to pulse around me. But we never hurried. We had too great a need

to express our love.

I had never made love quite this way before. It may be that I never had sex

with a woman I loved like I loved Holly. It took some time for her to cum, but

when she did, the wave-like clamping of her muscles around me brought me to the

end.

As we cuddled after our lovemaking, Holly said, "That was the best

Christmas gift I ever had."

I kissed her and held her tight against me. "Holly, I love you. I hope we

can spend many more Christmas nights together."

"Do you plan to have your restaurant open on Christmas Day?" Holly

said.

"My restaurant. God, how I love the sound of that! But no, I think my

assistant chef, JZ, and my hostess, Yolanda, will want Christmas Day off so we

can work at South Street. But, of course, I'll have to consult with my wife and

business manager about that. Assuming you'll take both those assignments."

"Are you asking me to marry you, James?"

"More like begging you," I said.

She kissed me and then laid her head on my chest. "I'll say yes, to both

offers. I love you. Merry Christmas, James."

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Summers," I said.

for Sex Stories.

And a happy holiday to all of you, dear readers. If you've read this far, I'm

sure you understand my intention with this story; to describe the growth of

love and the spirit of selfless giving. Isn't that what the holidays are

supposed to be about?