Author: Pirate Turner
Dedicated To: My beloved Jack
Rating: R
Summary: When Blanche convinces Dorothy to play Santa, Dorothy discovers she's the one actually getting the better present.
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Femme Slash, Holiday fic
Challenge: None
Word Count (excluding heading): 847
Feedback: Yes, please!
Archive: WWOMB, -- Anybody else, ask, and I'll probably grant permission.
Disclaimer: Dorothy, Blanche, Rose, Sophia, Scarlet O'Hara, and the Golden Girls are & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: This is the seventh in a series of 12 Days of Christmas fics written with my beloved Jack in mind but also shared with you, our readers and, hopefully, our fans. They will be unbetaed the first time they're sent out, as Jack does the betaing, and he'll know nothing of these fics until they hit his box. Happy Holidays, however you celebrate! :-)
Dorothy left the safety of her bedroom behind nervously, her eyes flitting warily everywhere along the hallway. She knew Rose and Sophia should be gone on their shopping trip for several more hours to come, but still fear made her breathing more labored as she dreaded being caught.
Heat rushed through her body as she took her first tentative steps on her mission. She had never been more embarrassed in all her adult life, and she had Blanche to thank for it all! Their argument replayed through her mind as she tiptoed down the hall, dragging a great, big sack with her as she went. She should have stayed strong, but Blanche had made her argument so tempting.
Her part of the offer had been tantalizing enough, but Dorothy never could stand to see Blanche pout over something that truly upset her without trying to cheer her up. Blanche had thrown the final stone at her when, whilst pouting seductively, she had lamented how she'd never stood her ground and made Dorothy try any other new sexual experiences. When she had looked up at her from underneath perfectly veiled lashes and with tears in her eyes and asked in her thickest-accented croon, "Don't ya love me enough ta at least try this one little ole thing for me, Dorothy? Ya'd make mah wildest dreams come true!", Dorothy had caved.
She sighed as she crept along the hall, her cheeks burning surely as red as her absurd outfit. She should have said "no"! She should have told Blanche to quit the Scarlet O'Hara game and find her another fool, but she couldn't. She loved her too much to allow her to continue to have tears in her eyes because of her. Tears that had miraculously dried up the instant she had agreed to this ridiculous game, Dorothy reflected, but then, as she turned into the living room, all her thoughts came to a screeching halt.
There kneeling on the carpet underneath the Christmas tree was the woman she loved, her fair skin set aglow by candlelight and the tree's strands of multi-colored lights. Her beautiful face was turned to gaze at Dorothy, and the two red, satin ribbons she wore were pulled tight across her womanly attributes. Dorothy's hands itched and her suddenly hot mouth watered at the thought of unwrapping her present. Gone immediately were the embarrassment and the thought that this game of her lover's had ever been ridiculous.
"Santa," Blanche's soft, feminine voice crooned from across the room, "Ah've been waitin'!"
"Have you . . . " Dorothy fought to remember her line as she struggled to keep from tripping over her own two feet while closing the distance between them. "Have you been a good girl or a bad girl?"
"Oh, Ah've been naughty, Santa!" Blanche exclaimed, pulling her body upright and invitingly shaking her perky breasts. Bells jingled enticingly. "Ah've been very naughty! Ah just can't help mahself! Every time Ah thought o' you comin' down the chimney in tha' big, red suit o' yours, Ah just . . . Ah got so hot Ah did all sorts o' things!" Each word came in a puff of breathy seduction.
"And just what kind of things were those?" Dorothy asked in a deep, rumbling voice that thrilled Blanche. "No. Don't tell me. Santa already knows."
She hooked her fingers around the ribbon that bound Blanche's breasts and gave a gentle tug. Blanche stood obligingly. Quickly she captured her mouth with hers, her tongue thrusting wildly into her delicious, satiny mouth. "You kissed me," she breathed against her lips before kissing her again.
Blanche ran her fingers lovingly through Dorothy's long, white beard before stroking the suit. As she kissed Dorothy a third time, her tongue exploring even deeper inside the heated contours of Dorothy's mouth, she slipped her hands inside the heavy, red coat to fondle Dorothy's breasts. "You stripped me." Blanche pushed first her coat and then her shirt off while continuing to kiss her love, each kiss growing with more heat and passion.
As her hands caressed Dorothy's hard breasts, Blanche began to move her mouth in a searing line of scorching kisses that ran across Dorothy's neckline, down her throat, and over her breasts. With a loud moan of pleasure, Dorothy broke Blanche's first ribbon and took her into her hands. She kneaded her breasts while moaning her delight.
Blanche kept the kisses going lower and growing ever hotter. She lifted from Dorothy's flesh only long enough to moan and move to another spot. As she drew her mouth across Dorothy's stomach, she touched her between the legs and started to rub.
Dorothy's cry of pleasure was almost a scream. "You made me cum down the chimney!" She squeezed Blanche's breasts a little harder than intended as her head tossed back in ecstasy. She did scream then as her love replaced her skilled hands with her hot mouth. Soon Dorothy was shooting through the stairs, and as Blanche called, "Merry Christmas, Santa!", she was only too eager to respond, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"
The End
