Selfish Love

Then he was moving, leaning forward and pressing a sudden--but not at all unwelcome--kiss against my ass before he positioned himself behind me. His hands travelled along my body again, touching my hips, my sides, and my lower back before lingering on my ass for a long, deliciously expectant moment.

When he was done caressing every inch of my ass, I felt him shift, then the heat of his hard cock pressed against me. One hand was on my hip and the other was, I'm sure, wrapped around his cock so he could guide it into me, but I was so fucking ready for him that I doubted he needed it. His thick tip pushed inside of me, forcing my pussy to stretch around him. My juices allowed him to move smoothly, though he took it slow, letting me feel it as he filled me up inch by glorious inch until he was stuffed inside of me with his hips pressed against my ass.

"Jesus," he breathed when I moaned. Then, when he still hadn't started fucking me and I pushed back so his hips pressed against me harder: "Holy fuck."

He let me do that a few times, gliding forward before fucking myself back on his cock, before he moved both hands to my hips and thrust forward. I bit my lip, curling my fingers around the sheets beneath me as he did it again, and then a bit harder, as if he was testing to find out my limit. He was waiting, I think, for me to whimper or cry out or tell him to slow down or even stop.

But I had no intention of doing anything of the sort.

Slowly, his confidence grew, and those slow little thrusts came faster and harder until he was plunging himself into me. I could barely stifle my noises as he pounded me, my ass bouncing as his body slapped against mine. Biting my lip, I lowered myself, bowing my head and pressing my face against the mattress so I could moan a little louder without worrying that anyone would hear me.

Aside from Jimmy, of course, who heard me, then promptly made the fact that I was trying to muffle my cries completely irrelevant when he made a groaning sound of his own. Not that I cared because honestly, the sound of him was just...

It was so hot.

I knew I was going to come again. I mean, there was no question about that. I was balancing on that line of desperate and overstimulated, my heart as full as my pussy was, my body greedy for the pleasure I knew he could give me. I braced myself against the mattress with one hand so I could slip the other down between my legs.

I fingered my clit for maybe ten seconds before Jimmy realized what I was doing and decided he was having none of that. Instead, he paused with his cock buried completely inside of me, leaned forward, and used one hand to shove mine out of the way so he could replace it with his. The other hand slipped around my body and up to my breast so he could pull me back up, strong arms supporting me as he began to ravish my pussy again.

There was no staying silent for me at that point.

His lips were on the back of my neck. He kissed me there, then moved his mouth to where my neck met my shoulder. Another kiss, then the slight pressure of his teeth as he bit down gently. And I have no idea why that was so hot, but apparently I was super into him biting me because without warning, I came again.

Hard.

Almost screaming hard.

Hard enough that Jimmy hurriedly moved his hand to my mouth, stifling my cries as he kept moving inside of me, and I was impressed that he managed to have the presence of mind to do that because even before I was done coming, he was shooting his load inside of me, flooding my pussy walls with spurt after spurt of cum.

My arms shook as I tried to hold myself up, my body heavy as those blissful spasms faded. Carefully, Jimmy lowered me to my stomach, still inside of me as I found my place on the bed. He kissed my shoulder again, then my neck, his breath hot even against my scorching skin. His hands moved to my back, caressing and massaging lightly before he finally, reluctantly, pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside me.

"Jimbo?" I murmured.

"Hmm?"

"That was fucking fantastic."

He snorted back a laugh, drawing me into his arms. "Tell me about it."

"Well, first you seemed terrified to ask if you could fuck me doggy-style, then--"

"Ha, ha." He groaned, shifting again as I curled up against him.

"But seriously," I said. "Why were you so concerned?"

He didn't respond right away, which was strange. I frowned, glancing up at him as best I could considering he was holding me against his chest.

"Jimbo?" I asked.

His mouth twitched. "What's that rule about not talking about, like, previous partners in bed?"

I rolled my eyes and nudged him. "Rules are stupid. Tell me."

He sighed. "Does it sound like a humble brag if I say I've wanted to fuck someone like that for... like, way too long, obviously, but every time I tried it was... I felt bad?"

"Felt bad for what?"

"My, uh... I... Girls said it hurt," he finally said.

"Oh."

A beat went by, then vulnerability took over.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked. "'Cause if I did then, like, I don't want you to think you have to do it again."

"Not even a little bit." I pressed a kiss against his chest. "I appreciate your concern, but if you never fuck me like that again, I will be very, very bummed out."

He laughed, startled, but I felt him relax a bit as he nuzzled against me.

We stayed like that for too long, holding each other in the dimly lit guest room with the occasional murmured question and tender, honest answer. A while later, Jimmy untangled his arms from me, whispering some bullshit about how he should get dressed and go home.

I mean, it was accurate bullshit, but it was still bullshit.

"But I want you to stay," I said drowsily.

"I wanna stay," he replied, tugging his jeans on, then going to the bag I'd left on the dresser, digging out the pajamas I'd brought, and bringing them to me. "But this isn't how I want Baylee to find out."

I took my pajamas from him. "Yeah, but..."

He smirked as I trailed off. "But I'm right?"

I swallowed, then put my pajama top on.

"Stay and hold me for a bit, then," I asked. "Till I fall asleep. I sleep better when you're here."

And he almost questioned it, but he heard something in my voice that made him stop. Instead, he put his shirt on the dresser and climbed back into bed in just his jeans. I finished putting my pajamas on and curled up next to him as his arms settled against my body.

He was right. That much was true.

He was right, but that wasn't what had made me stop.

It was that he said 'I.'

I knew Jimmy cared about me and Baylee, even before "we" had become a thing. It was irrefutable, the way he looked out for both her and me. But that moment, hearing him say what he did--'This isn't how I want Baylee to find out'--said more than anything.

He was serious about this.

He wanted to make sure my daughter was okay.

He didn't want her to find out by walking in and discovering us together in a way that might upset her.

So that had touched my heart, which made it even harder for me to let Jimmy go home, which meant I pleaded with him to stay with me until I fell asleep even though I knew he was incredibly tired given the way he'd come inside me a short while earlier, meaning that it was entirely my fault that he also fell asleep and Baylee one hundred percent found out he and I were fucking by walking in and discovering us together.

I woke up disoriented, words in my mind that I had heard in my sleep, echoing and reverberating until I understood what they meant:

"Mom! Mom! Santa came while we were sleeping and--"

And.

And what?

And there were arms around me. I liked that there were arms around me.

There was a warm, sleepy body pressed against me. And I liked that, too.

Except that warm, sleepy body jolted upright, jostling my head uncomfortably.

"Shit," said Baylee, except she said it in a manly voice, which was weird because last time I had checked, my daughter did not have a manly voice.

And then I realized I was a drowsy moron and Jimmy was still beside me.

"Mom?"

I opened my eyes, my heart racing as I sat up to see my daughter standing at the foot of the bed, blonde hair flat on one side and tousled on the other, eyes as big as saucers as she stared. Beside me, Jimmy was frozen, though his heart was thudding so hard I could feel it.

At least he had his pants on. Thank God he'd insisted we get dressed.

"Bay," I said weakly. "I--Merry Christmas?"

"Merry Christmas," she repeated, still not blinking as she stared at the two of us.

I cleared my throat, trying to shake the sleep out of my voice. "I know you probably have questions right now and--"

"Is Jimmy your boyfriend?" she asked.

I looked at him helplessly. "I, um. I was going to tell you, sweetie, but yes, I--"

And then she shrieked, spun in a circle, and bolted from the room.

"Leia!" I heard her yell. "Leia, it worked!"

"What worked?" Jimmy asked.

Before I could tell him I had no idea what my daughter was talking about, a stampede of eight-year-old footsteps thundered down the stairs and burst back into the room. Jimmy inhaled sharply as Leia rounded the corner, trailing Baylee by mere inches.

"Uncle Jimmy!" she shouted.

"Oh, shit," floated an adult voice from somewhere above us.

Baylee crawled onto the bed and threw her arms around my neck, practically vibrating and speaking so fast I could barely keep up.

"Me and Leia both asked Santa if you and Jimmy could be boyfriend and girlfriend and he said he would see what he could do but that his magic powers didn't make people fall in love but Leia said that Santa could do anything so we used all our Christmas wishes and that's why I couldn't tell you 'cause if I had it wouldn't come true but I didn't say anything this whole time and it worked because now it came true!"

Somewhere in that string of gibberish, Em had raced down the stairs and joined us in the increasingly crowded guest room. Leia was doing a strange sort of jumping dance and grabbed her mom's forearm as soon as she entered.

"Mom, Uncle Jimmy and Kelsie are boyfriend and girlfriend now! Santa brought us Baylee's Christmas wish!"

I could have cried.

Scratch that.

I did cry.

I tried very hard not to cry, but it was a lot, you know? The intense fear that I'd scarred my daughter for life followed by the confusion as she celebrated something I hadn't even been aware of followed by the realization that my daughter and her best friend had given up their Christmas wishes--which yes, I know that Christmas wishes aren't real but they didn't--so that Jimmy and I could be together.

I don't know where my squalling turd of a daughter got her selflessness from, but it wasn't from me.

I did manage to hold the tears back for a bit. I didn't cry as I hugged my daughter, sharing a grateful look with Jimmy as we both let out relieved breaths. And I was particularly proud of the fact that I didn't cry when Baylee let go of me and jumped on Jimmy, barely giving him time to put his arms out to catch her before she hugged him.

And keeping my eyes dry when she failed to use her indoor voice to tell him she wanted him to make her mom happy and to take good care of her? That deserved a gold medal, especially when Jimmy solemnly promised her that he would.

I didn't cry when Em and Alex promised they'd never let me or Jimmy live this down. And I didn't cry when Jimmy looked at me nervously, apologized, and handed Baylee a long, thin package that contained a set of drumsticks with a picture of the drum kit he'd bought her wrapped around them.

Even though no one would have blamed me for wailing, I just laughed and kissed him, which made Baylee squeal and tap the drumsticks rapidly against the coffee table.

I still kept it together when Em did cry, right after Leia opened some weird recording equipment thing from Alex that he explained was for her and Baylee so they could play music together if they wanted to, just the two of them with a "band" backing them up, and when she asked about performing, he shook his head.

"It's just for you to have fun together," he said.

Leia looked at the gift, then carefully set it down beside her. She stood, ran up to Alex, and hugged him tightly.

"Thanks, Dad."

Em had to leave the room for a minute, and I didn't cry while she was gone and Alex slipped me an envelope that he explained was a gift from him--just him.

"You do so much for me and Em without ever asking for anything back," he said quietly as Jimmy showed the girls how to work the recording thingie. "Consider this a small token of my gratitude."

My mouth dropped as I opened the envelope. "Alex, this is too much."

"It's not even close to enough. You're so damn thoughtful about everything that I didn't even realize how much harder I was making things for you."

"I... I just want you and her to be happy," I said. "She's my best friend."

"You know damn well you're more than her friend." He smiled, glancing at the girls and Jimmy before looking back at me. "You're family."

It took some effort, but I managed to keep my eyes dry as I flipped through the brochure he'd included in the envelope detailing all the amenities and packages available at the luxury spa he was sending me and Em to for a weekend away, just the two of us. I maintained my cool as he handed me another envelope, awkwardly explaining that this one was from Mike, then watched nervously as I opened it to see a donation in my name to the women's shelter in the exact amount of the Taylor Swift tickets.

And that was really something since it... well. It said a lot. It said that Mike had never intended to make me pay for the tickets, but that he understood--that he knew giving me my check back would have been insulting and humiliating and frustrating for me. So he cashed it, that check I'd written using funds my ex-husband had tried to buy my daughter with, and then turned around and sent it back into the world to help the next woman who ended up with a man like Daniel. He let me have my pride in a way that let him keep his pride, and that... well.

I understood Mike a little bit better now.

I didn't cry when we got Baylee and Leia to sit next to each other so Jimmy could surreptitiously hit record on his phone as they both had huge paper-wrapped boxes placed in front of them. I almost cried laughing when the girls realized that there was a smaller paper-wrapped box in the big one, and another one, and six more before they finally got to a small, flat box right in the middle.

And it was a close fucking call when Baylee opened that small, flat box, saw the words "Taylor Swift concert," and burst into tears that overwhelmed her so much, it took nearly ten minutes before we could resume opening presents. It was even closer when I held her as she cried, listening to her whimper that she was so excited, she was just so excited, and sorry, she needed a minute because she never in a hundred million thousand trillion years thought she'd get to see a Taylor Swift concert and I realized that everything horrible, awful, horrendous thing that I'd had to go through to get those tickets was worth it.

I was fine right up until Baylee handed me a messily wrapped gift and said that she had made it herself while she was at her dad's and he said she had to have quiet time.

It was a picture frame, like one of those cheap wood ones you can get at any craft store, but it had two openings on it. She'd painted it and bedazzled it with every colour of rhinestone in the universe, glued pompoms across one edge and ribbon across another, and there had clearly been an incident with glitter that had been hastily covered up with construction paper.

On one side, a picture she had to have gotten from Em: me and her at the concert after she'd finished playing tambourine with the Poplins and I'd lifted her into the air to tell her how proud I was of her.

On the other, a drawing with careful lettering done in marker:

Home Is Where My Mom Is

Love, Baylee

"Mom, it's supposed to show I love you," she said.

"I know, sweetie."

"And you're s'posed to be happy," she said. "You have a boyfriend now and we're going to see Taylor Swift together and it's Christmas! Why are you crying?"

I sniffled and looked up.

In that room was my boyfriend, a man who had chosen me and my daughter above any level of normalcy.

In that room was my family; aside from Baylee, not by blood, but the family I'd chosen and that had chosen me.

In that room was my daughter, my sweet, smart, selfless girl. I sniffled again, then hugged her tightly.

"'Cause I'm happy, Bay. I'm really fucking happy."

"You shouldn't swear," she giggled. "Dad says it's ungracious."

"Fuck that. It's a good day for swearing."

**

I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

Make my wish come true

All I want for Christmas is you, baby

--All I Want For Christmas Is You, as performed by Heavy Metal Heroes

**

A huge amount of thanks to Bebop3 for building these characters with me and helping this story along the way. Thank you to chasten and Nora Fares for proofreading and to Sister Jezabel for beta reading. Paul M, Kevin Matheny, centralsquareguy, KW, AG, PM, N, ED, KJ, MidNyt, RP, and Christian Sonberg - thank you all for your support.

And, of course, a huge amount of thanks to everyone who has read, voted, favourited, commented, and messaged over the course of the first 50 postings I've made here on Literotica. Hearing your feedback makes my day and I hope you enjoyed the story! Whatever you celebrate at this time of year, I hope it is merry, joyful, and as wonderful as you are.

Xoxo, Cheryl