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“Advent
Calendar” in SHIVERS:
     
    "So, seriously, what's the joke?" I
asked.
    She was hanging her head off the end of my
bed, watching the tail end of A Charlie Brown Christmas Special
upside down.
    "Don't you love the way they talk? Wah,
wahhh wahhhhh. Isn't that totally how you used to hear grown-ups?"
She lolled her head off the corner and put her bare feet up on the
wall, crossing them at the ankles.
    "I still hear grown-ups that way," I
snorted, pulling my t-shirt on. "Come on, Betz, give."
    "Oh, this wasn't enough for you?" She teased
me, opening her thighs and pointing between them. Her pussy lips
were still a little swollen and they glistened. I sat next to her,
my hand inevitably drawn to the wetness, rubbing the moist and
slightly sticky skin with my thumb. God, she's intoxicating.
    "Everything isn't about sex, you know?" I
tried to sound serious, although my fingers betrayed me and slid
through her slit as my cock began to throb against my thigh.
    She laughed--god, I loved her laugh--it
tinkled, like ice crystals forming in midair. Rolling off the bed,
she grabbed for the remote and started to flip channels. "Do you
have CNN? I have to see if they're broadcasting any other signs of
the apocalypse."
    "Ha." I said. "Ha." She grinned up at me,
sprawled naked on my floor, her hair like dark chocolate streams
covering the generous swell of her breasts. "Well, if you're not
gonna tell me what it's all about, I'm not opening any more of
those stupid doors." I grabbed a new pair of briefs out of my top
drawer, shoving the advent calendar aside to do it. It toppled
toward the wall and balanced there, its first five black doors
hanging askew showing five decidedly blank white spaces.
    Every morning I felt like a fool, opening a
new door in the hopes that this time, something would appear. I had
noticed a different odor each day--first the oranges and cloves,
then cinnamon, then something I couldn't identify at all, then
something that smelled faintly like pumpkin pie. I joked with her
on the phone that she had invented the world's first "Scratch 'N
Sniff" advent calendar. She just laughed. There was a different
smell today, like those red and white pinwheel peppermint candies
my grandmother used to keep in her pocket to keep us quiet in
church, but it didn't linger long. I was getting really tired of
whatever game Betsy was playing.
    "Nice ass," she commented softly. I didn't
reply, tugging my jeans on. God, she pissed me off sometimes.
    "Is that all I am to you?" I tossed her
jeans off my bed and into her lap. Her eyes were bright, dancing,
as she looked up at me, incredulous. I stopped, my jaw as slack as
hers. "What the fuck?" I said softly, out loud, rubbing my chin
thoughtfully. What the hell am I saying? What the hell do I
care?
    "I'm gonna go home." She started to get
dressed. I couldn't see her face as she bent to slide her panties
on. I felt bad all of a sudden and then I was pissed that I felt
bad. This wasn't good at all. I watched her slide her jeans on, her
back to me, her panties caught slightly in the crack of her ass. My
cock jerked reactively, just seeing her bent over and sliding denim
up her shapely thighs. I sat on my bed, uncertain.
    "You don't have to keep opening them if you
don't want to." She kissed my cheek and smiled softly before
opening my bedroom door. She must have been chewing gum because she
smelled like peppermint.
    "There's no point!" I called after her.
"It's not funny!" I heard her laugh and gritted my teeth. This
wasn't gonna fly. I was done. I don't care how much she gets my
dick hard, no girl is worth this kind of hassle and
game-playing.
     
     

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