Xmas 2022 - 4 of 12

Riona’s home is very cute. Decorated for Christmas, doubly so. Her parents are also very nice and very welcoming to you even though it’s obvious that they are not super comfortable with their daughter dating a girl.

And the house… well, it’s a bit weird. But maybe this is just how it is in Ireland. Her parents’ house has four bedrooms, but only one bathroom.

All the floors in the whole house are tiled.

And there’s a washing machine in the kitchen.

And the bedrooms are kind of small.

And the power outlets are weird. So a lot of things are different here.

But one thing is exactly the same: Riona’s behavior. Also your inability to resist it.

Her slick, hot pussy grips you as she rides you on her single bed. Your mouth is filled with her plump nipple and even just the gentle creaking of her bed carries in the small, dark bedroom. You pray that her parents don’t notice as the feelings between your legs swell and the soft, sexy weight of her body becomes too much to resist. You push your face into her boobs, wrap your arms around her body, and pump a thick, creamy load straight into her womb.

You flop back on the bed with her on top of you.

Panting, she brushes sweaty hair out of her face, then does the same for you. For several long moments, there’s just the smell of her breath and sex and the sound of your labored breathing. Sex tires you out, but perks Riona up.

“I want more biscuits,” she announces. “Want some? I’ll bring it to you.”

You nod. The Christmas cookies that her mom made are really good. A few of those and some cold milk will go a long way to replenishing the life **** that you just erupted. You’re still inside her. She gazes at you a moment longer, then leans in and kisses your neck, sucking hard to leave a vicious hickey.

“Ow,” you say, trying not to laugh.

She runs her tongue over your lips, then kisses you. You moan softly. Then she climbs off and walks to the door, naked.

“Um,” you say, sitting up with wide eyes.

“What?” she replies, looking back with her hand on the knob. She’s naked. Her body is covered in sweat, her hair is a mess. Her thick, red bush is so wet with various fluids that it shines in the light from her fake candle on the bedside table.

A drop of semen is rolling down her inner thigh. And she’s going to go get cookies like this? This cannot be a normal Irish thing. This has to be a Riona thing. You’ve only been dating her since this summer, but you’ve learned one thing really well: you cannot change Riona.

“Nothing,” you say.