Housewarming Gifts (GSA-Dylemma)

Housewarming Gifts

It was sunset by the time she and Dylan had unloaded the last of the moving boxes, carrying them into her new house in a gentle hillside overlooking the Willamette River. New to her, anyway. The white clapboard house was a couple of decades old, with upgrades, though not as old as the Bates house. Dylan found it a bit ironic they were walking up and down another set of stairs, these attached to a redwood front deck. Not nearly as steep or long though. It was only a fleeting thought as her perfect, graceful movements kept pulling his gaze. In old blue jeans, a red-and-black plaid shirt, and black combat boots, his aunt was beyond gorgeous. Now she was living only an hour away, having moved 3,000 miles to be close to the family.

Emma Spoole set down the last box on the floor near the sofa. She stretched her tired back, her arms reaching over her head. The bottom of her shirt pulled up and he caught a look at a black camisole trimmed with lace stretched over her lean midsection. He tore his eyes away quick before she could catch him staring.

“Thank you for helping me with all this. I know it was a big job.” She turned to him and moved closer, smiling.

“Of course, Aunt Emma. It’s, pleasure.” That word made the room feel even warmer, all of a sudden. Her moving in close and clasping his hand wasn’t helping anything. “After all, you’ve helped me with plenty of dirty work Norma’s made me do around the motel and their house. This is the least I could do.”

That smile playing across her lips and the glint in her eyes was not exactly innocent or familial. He held both of his hands in hers, her thumbs stroking the backs of them. “I can think of more you could do,” Her throaty voice sounded even deeper than normal, thickening along with the tension that was growing impossible to ignore.

“Just let me know,” he murmured. “I know this is a big change for you, but I’m so happy you’re here.”

Her hands were sliding over his shoulders, then she was in his arms before Dylan could draw a full breath. His arms had wrapped around her slender waist and her body was molded to his. “Me too.” The breath from her words brushed into his ear. Emma’s smooth cheek rubbed across his as she slowly drew back. A few loose stands of her hair caught on his stubble for a second. Then her lips were on his, kissing with all the pent-up need that neither wanted to fight anymore. Her mouth parted and her tongue found his, caressing and exploring as her fingers ran into the sandy-blonde hair at the back of his head. She gave a soft moan as their embrace tightened even more.

Both their chests were heaving as their lips finally parted. Her forehead stayed dropped against his. What could she say? What the hell could either of them say?

“It’s getting kind of late.” she finally breathed. It was not even six, but who cared?


“You can sleep here tonight. Instead of driving all the way back. If you want.”

“More than anything in the world. Um, I’m pretty dusty.”

“So am I.”

“I should take a shower.”

“Okay. Then I will, after.” With that, they reluctantly parted. Emma dug through a couple of boxes until she found bath towels, then led the way up to the master bathroom attached to her bedroom. After she watched him close the bathroom door and heard him turn on the water, she rummaged around in another box until she found sheets, hastily put them on the bed. In the same box, her hand brushed against a purple-and-gold box that housed something she’d nearly forgotten ordering online before the move. She opened it and pulled out the deep purple rabbit-style vibrator. The damn thing had cost a pretty penny, and it sure better be the gift that kept on giving. Emma tossed it onto the bed, then stole downstairs to where she knew she’d put the bottle of Jack D. She took a swallow, then took it back upstairs, setting it on the nightstand.

She sat on the bed and unlaced her boots, kicking them off as her socks and jeans followed. Emma untied the waist tie of her hipster flannel shirt, then unbuttoned it and threw it aside. She was wearing a lacy black push-up bra and barely-there black lacy panties, with a camisole over. Wearing that sexy lingerie under those clothes had gotten her burning for him, as she figured he had no idea.

Emma-Christine lay back on the unmade bed and slid two fingers over her lace-covered mound, then lower. She was soaked, which was no surprise. The water was still pounding in the shower, and she lay back. Closed her eyes and pictured his firm sculpted arms that had wrapped so tightly around her. Then her fantasies wandered to his flat abs and built chest. What she wouldn’t do to see want he looked like without those clothes. She pressed one of the buttons that sent the clit vibe buzzing, pulled her panties off. There was enough time. She could finish herself off before he was done. Waves of pleasure were coursing through her within seconds. Emma arched as her legs spread, her engorged pinkness evident as she started to slip the eight inches inside her.

“Ohh! Fuuuck!!” Her hips started to thrust and she clenched around the toy inside her. “Dylan..” escaped from her lips in a breathy whisper. The bathroom door opened and her head whipped to face him. He was wearing only a towel around his hips, and the sight of his half-naked body sent her into a frenzy. Only seconds passed before she came, arching into it and letting out a long scream that sounded nearly inhuman.

Dylan was quivering, his hardness straining under the towel. He’d never seen anything that hot in his life. Before he could move or speak or react, Emma withdrew the toy, her dripping wetness all over it. Then she rose up on her knees, naked except for that tank top and lacy bra underneath. “Come here.”

He obeyed her, his hands holding her bare hips as she hungrily kissed him. “Do you want to make love?” she demanded.

“More than anything in this life.”

She tugged at his towel until it fell around his ankles.