"You're keeping me up," I said, trying not to worry, and rolled over to look at Anthony; he let out a long breath and even in the dark, I could see the glimmer of his eyes as he blinked and continued to stare at the ceiling. The holiday lights winked from under the bedroom door, announcing to me that it was, in fact, midnight on Christmas Eve. "Honey. Sweetie. Baby. What's going on?"

"I'm nervous about tomorrow," he finally said.

"I know. But you got everything ready, right?"

"Well..." Now it was my turn to stare at the ceiling, a fresh wave of irritation rolling over me; we had a lot to do tomorrow--it was Christmas! Everyone had a lot to do. "I just don't want to do it," he said, and my irritation faded just as quickly as he twisted over and turned on the light. I knew what was going on. "I don't want to--"

"I know," I said, and rolled towards him, laying an arm across his chest. I could feel his heart beating; he was really anxious. "It's a lot."

"I don't wanna go," he mumbled, and I swept my hand up to his cheek, running a fingertip along his eyebrow, his nose, his lips.

"We don't have to."

"We do."

"We don't," I said firmly. "We can call in the morning. Let's get some sleep." Easy. Done.

"No, please..." Anthony turned towards me; his long torso sagged into the mattress as he tucked his hands beneath his chin, looking painfully vulnerable in the dim light. "I don't want to go. But I know I should. And I need your help to do it."

"Okay," I whispered, watching him; I was fine with either option. "Tell me what kind of help you need."

"I need you to make me go to sleep."

"Um-hmm."

"And I need you to make me pack."

"Um-hmm."

"And tomorrow, I need you to hold my hand." Anthony was whispering now as well. I understood that this would be difficult; he had a falling out with his brother two years before. But his brother just finished rehab, offered amends, and was looking forward to seeing Anthony again; it wasn't even the usual challenges of navigating family conflict that was the hardest part for Anthony, I thought. He was forgiving. And he loved his brother. The problem was the nebulous cloud of expectations hanging over Christmas in general--would everyone react the way they 'should?' I hated that he had to carry the weight of these hopes for his other family members, and I worried about the pressure on his brother, too.

However, my suggestions about separating these events were not taken, and we were ripping the band-aid off at a gigantic, stressful Christmas event at his mother's house, after a three hour drive... "I got you, sweet boy," I said, and kissed his forehead. His eyes closed, relief on his face. "But."

"But?"

"But. You're going to get that exceptionally fine ass right out of this bed and pack, and then you can go to sleep."

"Wait, I--"

"You asked me to hold your hand." I kissed his cheek. "I am."

"This is--"

"I know." I kissed his forehead. "Go pack."

Anthony was quick. We both knew what 'help me get to sleep' meant, we both knew he had deliberately not finished packing in order to be disciplined, and we both were looking forward to what came next. When he zipped up his suitcase, he flopped back on the bed and stared at me with beautiful, wide brown eyes. I wordless rose up on my knees, my satin teddy slipping over my skin. "Flat," I said, and pointed to the mattress. He eagerly slid into the center of the bed and laid on his back.

I promptly sat on his middle, my big, round ass pointed towards his face; with a swift movement I slid his boxers down to his thighs, knowing he was getting a full view of my slit. When he moved his hands to pull my hips up and slide his tongue into me, I said, "nope."

"Whyyyy?" Cute, sweet, whiny brat. I could perfectly imagine the look on his face.

"Because," I said, admiring the soft thatch of black hair that nestled his extremely hard cock, sliding my hand over the ridge of caramel colored foreskin. He shivered. "You tell me why."

"Because I haven't earned it yet."

"Good boy," I murmured, sliding my fingers over the gummy split in the head of his cock; precum dampened my fingertip as he exhaled. "Now. How do you earn it?"

"I say please."

"Yes..."

"And I say--ohhhh--I say I love you, and you were right--"

"Good boy," I said again, taking his cock in my right hand and slowly manipulating his foreskin over the head of his cock while my left gently squeezed his balls. His smooth torso was gathering the damp from the center of my body in the divot between his pecs; he was going to be smeared with my pussy juice by the time we went to sleep. "Very good boy."

"Uhh--Please, I love you, please--"

"You should have packed at four, right?" I couldn't push it; he was already so close. This would be a quick and delicious midnight snack.

"I should have, you were right--"

"Of course I was right," I said, and slid further back along his slick chest, tucking my feet below his arms, my ass six inches from his mouth. I leaned further over, arching my back, so that I could comfortably grip the base of his cock; he was so wet now. A long, delicious thread of precum dripped over my hand as I worked him, feeling his body tense beneath me.

"Please--can I just--"

"No," I said, perfectly reasonable sounding; inside, I was more than ready to sit on his face, but timing matters.

"I love you so much--"

"I love you too, my sweet boy," I whispered, and licked his belly button; my touch when through him like an electric shock, and I knew he was going to burst any moment.

"Please, I love you--"

"And I was right--"

"And you were totally right, and I love you--" I moved my hand faster, inched closer; the room smelled like sex now, his beautiful cock making me just as horny as he was. I loved topping Anthony, almost more than anything. "Please, please, please--"

He was so close. "Because you were a good boy, you earned this treat," I said, and I could hear my lust in my own voice as I arched my back and put my weight on my knees, hovering over his eager face. "I love you, you know that?"

"Yes!" I lowered my ass onto his face, his tongue sliding inside of me at the exact moment pearly cum began shooting out of his cock. I worked my hand gently, milking everything I could from him as he tongue fucked my pussy, engulfed in my ass as he came.

"I love you, and you love me, and everything is going to be okay," I murmured, gently riding his tongue while he rippled with orgasm. "You're such a good boy. You're my good boy. And everything is going to be just fine." His cock was finally softening, but he continued to eagerly push his face into my ass, and I couldn't stop the moan that left me; I wasn't going to last long either. As I moved my hips, riding his face, my own orgasm arrived. I loved him so much, and that's what I told him, over and over, as he tongue-fucked my pussy.

When I was done, I slid off of his face and leaned down to lick his belly button clean. "Now," I told him, sitting up and looking at his lovely, shining face. "Let's get some rest, okay?"

"Okay," he said, smiling peacefully. I ruffled his soft, sleek black hair and gave him a long kiss before laying down beside him; he tucked into me, finding my nipple through the satin fabric and nosing it over the hem, then gently taking it in his mouth. He was asleep in less than a minute, sucking in his sleep.

"Goodnight, sweet boy," I said, and kissed his forehead again before closing my eyes.