Ruth perched the knit version of Obbie on her dresser, and while it certainly helped imbue some Christmas cheer into the air, her apartment still felt a bit lonely and chilly.
Ruth still wasn’t quite sure what to do alone on a holiday. She sat on the edge of her bed, rolling the little glass bottle between her hands. It was unlabeled, and wiggling the stopper out released the scent of peppermint. Peppermint schnapps, then?
“Christmas cheer in a bottle, right Obbie?” With nothing better to do, Ruth tipped back the little bottle and downed the whole thing. The liquor bit at her tongue, but she liked it. She liked her little apartment and she liked her little life, dammit. And she liked Christmas. Even when her mother called her tacky.
Ruth went to the kitchen and dug out a candle, then brought it back and lit it on her dresser, a safe distance away from the knit cat. It wasn’t exactly a roaring fire, but it was better than nothing.
Within a few minutes, the warmth of the liquor dispelled the cold. So thoroughly, in fact, that she might as well have been next to a bonfire after all. Ruth dove under her covers and wiggled out of her pajamas.
She was feeling very warm. Hot actually. Especially in some specific areas. So, hot and bothered. Was she really getting off so much on finally being able to say ‘fuck you’ at her ex?
Or maybe the peppermint schnapps was stronger than she’d realized. Her pussy was throbbing something fierce. Was this the era of her life where she went and bought a bunch of sex toys? That seemed good. Who needs dick, anyway?
As the thought of growing her sex toy collection instead of her and her ex’s joint bank account sent hot arousal through her, Ruth officially hit the point of overheating and threw her covers off.
And then saw the strangest thing. Sprouting from between her legs was a life-size peppermint swirl candy cane dildo.
Ready to prove it an illusion or examine it closer, Ruth grabbed the end of the strange apparition and tugged, only to moan as pleasure zinged through her entire body. Touching the candy cane dick felt like how she could only imagine actually having a dick felt.
Ruth blinked rapidly, scanning her room for any sign that she might be dreaming. But as far as she was aware, she hadn’t fallen asleep. That was how dreams usually worked though, right? Except she could still remember her day, the shop and the…
Wait, did the old woman brew her moonshine with LSD or something?
Ruth turned and stared at the knit Obbie, half expecting it to blink at her. “Do you know anything about this? What’s going on?”
Knit Obbie was as silent—if cheerfully—as ever.
Needy throbbing turned Ruth’s attention back to the candy cane cock.
Tentatively, she reached for it again. Pleasure zinged up its length, sending her heart racing and her chest heaving.
“Ooooh boy. This is, uh… this is a good trip, right?”
Knit Obbie offered no response, but it was hard to feel apprehensive in his cheerful presence. If she was dreaming it was a non-issue, and even if she wasn’t… it wasn’t like she could un-chug the moonshine. Or, well, she could maybe call 911 and tell them that she’d eaten something, but…
Her hand drifted down to the base of the candy cane cock. It felt so fucking good. Not as intense as when she played with her clit, but she could feel every little touch along the length…
Ruth gave herself a couple experimental strokes and she shuddered. This was fine. She was fine. This was either a very good dream or a very good trip, and she didn’t care much either way.
Ruth quickly found a rhythm with the candy cane cock that had her moaning and bucking her hips. Then she felt something inside the cock, a pulsing heat and tingling cold down the entire length, the sense of squeezing and dripping… and then something thick and white oozed out of the tip of the candy cane cock.
Ruth paused, curiosity briefly overwhelming arousal. She swiped a finger over her tip, shuddering at the sensation, then put it on her tongue.
It was icing. Peppermint icing.
She turned to glare at knit Obbie. “You’ve got to be shitting me. What the fuck is this?”
The candy cane cock throbbed, and Ruth’s hips bucked, sliding the cock through her hand again and sending pleasure sparking out from the base. Ruth moaned. “Okay, fine, this is really fucking hot, is what this is…”
Ruth indulged, and no matter what she tried with the candy cane cock, it felt amazing. Pre-orgasmic ripples of pleasure sent more icing dripping from her tip, which she licked off her fingers.
Slowly, Ruth’s arousal built, and she could feel the familiar-yet-different edge, right there.
She’d better cum and get to bed… why exactly? She didn’t have work the next day. In fact, she had all night and nobody to bother her.
Ruth bit her lip, squirming with pleasure, forcing her hands to stay off the candy cane cock as icing dribbled down its length and she backed down from the edge.
Then she resumed her luxuriant attentions, stroking and moaning, working up quite the sweat.
“Not so cold and lonely anymore,” she muttered to the knit Obbie as she teetered on the edge a second time.
This time as her hand found the shaft, every movement tingled with orgasmic pleasure. “Oh fuck… Obbie, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop this time…” Her hips bucked reflexively into her hands as she fucked the air, ribbons of icing already oozing out. Her breath quickened. “I can’t fucking stop… oh fuck… fuck!” Ruth’s thrusting hips lit some kind of new fire in her core as every muscle in her body clenched. A pulse of pleasure radiated from her base and then the candy cane cock erupted, huge arcs of warm icing hanging in the air and then spattering down around her.
“Ohhhh fuck…” Relaxation spread through Ruth’s limbs as she stopped bucking but still stroked gently. As she caught her breath, she expected sensitivity to overtake her, but it was actually the heat of greater pleasure that she found.
“Oh Obbie, I’m gonna… again… yes… fuck…. Oh!” Another climax thundered through her, even more intense than the first. And just when she thought she was spent, it happened again, a third wave of rhythmic ecstasy, showering her with yet more peppermint icing.
Finally, Ruth collapsed back into the bed, both hands at her sides but still cumming, little pulses of icing still oozing out of the candy cane cock.
Ruth scooped a handful of peppermint icing from her stomach and pressed her fingers deep into her mouth. It was the best thing she’d ever tasted.
As she shifted to scoop up more, the candy cane cock fell next to her on the bed, as if it had never been attached to her at all. She picked it up and licked the icing off the end—and found that it was, indeed, made of candy cane. Ruth wasn’t quite sure of why, but she giggled at that.
She licked up a few more handfuls of icing, then settled back into her bed. Whether it was a dream or drugs or actual magic that would result in her having to do a lot of laundry tomorrow, Ruth didn’t care much.
She sighed happily. “Happy fucking Christmas to me.”
Then, she added, “And happy solstice to you, Obsidian…”
And as her eyes drifted shut, too heavy to keep open any longer, she would have sworn the knit cat’s eyes glowed golden for an instant as the sound of purring brushed by her feet.
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