2 comments/ 20335 views/ 1 favorites The Gift of Us By: flatliner The snow fell thick and deep in New York City on Christmas Day 2009 so we were just as glad that we didn't have anywhere to go. It was our first Christmas as a couple and the first Holiday that neither of us would be spending with our families. We just didn't have enough money to travel across the country because we'd both graduated that awful year and I hadn't found a job in the 8 months since. Randall got work, but not in his field, exactly. He was a Renta-Santa. We were both pretty discouraged that winter. The Arts were hit hard by the recession. Arts majors are at the bottom of the food chain in the best of times. But we felt we couldn't live without doing what we loved; telling the stories that our wounded society needed to hear. Yes, we were still idealistic. Even though we were unemployed as artists we held onto the dream. Randall and I both did some theater, some performance art pieces. I wrote. Following the dictum that in order to write a good novel you must first write a bad one, I wrote much bad prose. We hung out with our friends, all similarly struggling. We consoled ourselves by believing we were earning our Bohemian Outsider chops. The opportunity to earn those chops hadn't been so good for decades. Still, we took what pleasure we could. Such as sitting by the fire, sipping eggnog and watching the heavy snow cover New York on Christmas Day. For once the city that never slept was quiet. Looking down the street toward the park we could see islands of light illuminating sparkling white un-trampled snow. Snow fell so thick that streetlights were on in the daytime. No horns blared, no busses roared to disturb the silence. Up to 20" was predicted and it shut the city down. The snowplows wouldn't get to our SoHo neighborhood for days. It truly felt like a holy, silent place. But this story is about the best Christmas gift I ever got, though I've had many, and many much more expensive, since then. As you can imagine, we were broke that winter. We had sworn a pact to get nothing we couldn't afford for each other. Which meant we could give each other little in the way of material things. So I made Randall a little something. Something he could use throughout the year. The gift of me. The gift of me in the form of a coupon book to be redeemed for specific services. I Included back rubs, foot massages, breakfast in bed; the expected things, I guess. But I also added 52 items of an especially personal nature. These were things like: One Blowjob to be administered at the redeemer's chosen time and place. One striptease and masturbation performance. One whole-body sensual massage followed by one sex act of the redeemer's choice. I couldn't wait to see him open his gift in the morning. We both had enough kid in us to be up before dawn and tearing the wrapping from our gifts and I sort of hoped he'd redeem one of his coupons right away. Randy was a big boy. I mean a Big Boy in all his dimensions; a roly-poly bear/clown of a man. He was always upbeat, always quick with a quip. He kept me laughing through the lean times and I loved him for that most of all. He could mime like nobody else. I know, you're thinking that everyone hates mimes. The beauty of his act was that once they got past the label any audience was charmed by him. Also, if you got up in his face about his miming he could crush you. Nobody messed with this mime. He was the one-man linebacker sized mime revolution and he was going to take over the world. I like a man with some girth, someone solid with some padding over his muscle. And he was an athlete; it made his act that much better. He could hold a pose exquisitely and move through a range of motions like a ballet dancer. I'll tell you it made him good in bed, too. And his girth extended to his man parts. I loved nothing more than lying pinned under him, my breasts crushed under his hairy chest and my pussy stretched full of him. He could dance into me for hours without flagging; we spent many an impoverished night entertaining ourselves in the bedroom. The name Randy suited him just right. I admired him so much. I tried to be the best I could for him. Randy liked me to keep my hair long and my nails short, for instance. If he didn't want me to strangle my 24Bs in a bra I wore no bra. When he said he liked to think of me bare-assed naked under my skirt I left the panties off. Always at home, sometimes when we went out. Not working, I could spend days in the chilly apartment busy trying to make a novel out of our hand-to-mouth existence, wearing just one of his big soft sweaters and a floor length, heavy skirt. It suited his sense of humor that I wore striped socks and bunny slippers under it all. And he'd come in from ho, ho ho-ing and flog me for an hour. That Christmas Eve the party he'd been rented to finished before the blizzard started, so just before dark Randall came bouncing in the door with a big box covered in shiny, red wrapping paper and gold ribbon. He struggled to get it through the doorway. I was aghast. It made my little shoebox-sized gift with the coupon book inside under the plastic tree look puny. It made the tree look puny. He lay the box on the floor. It filled half of our little living room. "Oh no, you promised not to get me anything expensive, Randal!" I whined. But he just smiled in his impish way. "This cost practically nothing, Sammy. It's priceless, really. Don't touch!" he held me back from grabbing it. I wanted to rattle it, guess what was inside. What kid wouldn't? Randy diverted me, though. He took me in his big bear arms and hugged me into his red Santa suit, lifting me off the floor. I squealed. When he put me down I tore at the coat's buttons and slipped inside with him for a moment, holding to his warmth. He was one of those big guys who give off so much heat he often went out in cold weather in shorts and sandals. I liked to untie him when he came home sometimes, to unwrap him. And that night he was Santa so I had to work at pulling off the tall black boots, at unbuckling his broad black belt and pulling off the heavy cotton Santa pants. It was a chore even though he helped. We were in a hurry. Underneath the costume he wore a red union suit. So many buttons. "You need to get out of that godawful moth-eaten suit, sweetheart," I whispered and began to unbutton the longjohns. He looked at me with such love, I recall. I never really understood his attraction to me. He dwarfed me. I was a frump; plain, my face nondescript, my long hair mousy, my butt too soft and wide, I thought. I was pigeon-toed and a little cross-eyed. He swore he loved every unremarkable part of me. We could agree on my boobs; they stood firm and high and I was proud of them, which I considered my only redeeming physical feature. I didn't understand his worship of my body, but I didn't argue. If I was good enough for him, I was good enough. I'd been working myself up to a fervent horniness waiting for him. Imagining him using the coupons I made. Just dreaming about being shut in our den by the storm and being wrapped in the furry blanket of him had my pussy twanging with longing, throbbing with tiny pulses of heat, clenching like a lemon squeezer. I dripped. His eyes danced with playfulness as I pulled the undershirt apart and buried my face in his chest fur. I luxuriated in the oakey smell and the scratchiness of his chest. Reaching into the fly of the union suit I gave his cock a squeeze. It hung heavy from its forest of hair. Did I mention he was hairy? He had an all-over pelt. I was particularly fond of his back hair. I confess; I loved a fat, hairy mime. You should be so lucky. We quickly got him undressed down to his own fur coat. Randy's full auburn beard made a nimbus around his face, framing his smile and twinkling green eyes. His hands, like paws, took me by the shoulders. He bent to give me a sweet kiss that mounted into a passionate one. I reached up to hold his face to mine, sucking his lips, sparring with his tongue. His right hand walked its way down my ribs, rubbing the side of my breast, the nipple already pinched with desire. When he slid the hand up under my sweater and cupped my boob I whimpered. His power, his so solid 'presence' made me weak. I loved it when he took me like an animal. I pushed away from him and turned my back, looking over my shoulder, grinning. I went straight to the end of the couch and bent over the thick bolster. I spread my legs and waggled my butt at him. This was one of Randy's favorite games, too. He knew what to do. I loved his knowing. I loved his primal virility, his mastery of me. He dropped to all fours and lifted my dress, crawled under. He snuffled, snorted, bit my inner thigh. I spread my legs more and lay my head into the seat of the couch, knocking my glasses askew. My ass in the air, Randy licked up my leg, tracing the track of my juices. He nosed at my cleft, pushed into my bush, butted me. Our furs mingled. He licked; I quivered. Up in the dark heat under my skirt his mouth kissed my other lips. French kissed me there while his hands held my cheeks apart. I was a female in rut presenting to my mate. Inarticulate with passion I could only pant, impatient to be mounted. I reached back, clutched at my dress and pulled it up over my ass. He stood and saw the wild-eyed pleading in my face jammed into the couch. In the mirror on the back of the apartment door I saw us in full. I, an upended pile of clothing, my pale white ass sticking up helplessly, my extended legs spread wide, feet in bunny slippers pointed inward. He, a towering male animal, chest thick, barrel-legged, head held high in a Santa hat, smelling for game. Smelling me. My juice sparkled in his beard. His prong was dark, proud and long and swung like a boom as he reached for me. When he grasped my hips and pulled me back I went limp. I willed myself open to him. I wanted to turn myself inside out, reach out with my cunt and grab him, pull him in. Not necessary. He speared me on the first try. I felt just his fat, round knob socketed in me for a moment, then the long, slow pressure of his descent. I was pressed down into the couch, crushed onto the armrest under my pelvis. Willingly, eagerly, I was taken. There never was a sense of time passing when he loved me like that. He ran his cock in and out of me a dozen or a hundred times, I couldn't tell or care. Lovemaking is measured on a sliding scale. I rose up the bell curve, first gently, then straight up, exploding into the white of an orgasm as blinding and crystal sharp as the snow outside. Then slowly down the other side as the tide of ecstasy receded, stair stepping down into exhaustion. I don't remember going to bed that night. I suppose he carried me like a cave man to his lair, lay me on his pile of animal hides and then maybe went around pissing to mark his territory. The dreams were always ones of contentment then, of security. In America the bear loves you. He loved me anyway. I woke once in the night, hot and sticky between the legs. I snuck out from the covers, sliding from under his heavy arm and used the toilet. I washed his semen from my thighs, sniffing the man smell of it. Visions of the sugarplum purple of his cock's knob swam in my head. Santa would be coming soon, again, pun intended, and I slipped back into Randy's drowsy embrace anticipating Christmas morning. When I next awoke I was alone. I missed the furnace that usually lay beside me. "Randy?" I called. No answer. I stretched and pulled myself up, still in sweater and dress. Outside the Christmas dawn was just limning the snow that had fallen all night. I stepped from the tiny bedroom into the living room. A fire snapped in the grate. No Randy. Two steps and I could see that he wasn't in the kitchen or the bathroom. He wasn't in the apartment at all. Where and why would he go on a morning like this, this morning especially? I thought a moment, then shrugged and went to the kitchen to make some tea. Ginseng vitality with a big slug of agave nectar. I made one for us both. Surely he would be back soon. I took them to the living room and sat on the couch. Fond memories of the night before teased me as I rubbed the arm of the couch where he'd overcome me. Or come over me. Either way I was happy. Then I noticed the large card attached to his present. My curiosity about the big box got the better of me and I went over to inspect it. I pushed a corner to rattle it. I wouldn't budge; it was very heavy. Odd. I opened the card. It read: The Gift of Us for Your 30th The date is April 2nd and the locale is St. Louis. We are just waking up from a wild night. As I roll over to kiss you good morning, I realize that you have "morning wood" . Never being one to let a hard one go to waste, I immediately start getting the most delicious thoughts into my head. I look at your beautiful face, submerged in the land of dreams, I watch as your eyes move rapidly and the slowest smile spreads across your lips. What is my PoohBear dreaming of looking so angelic, but with a devilish grin on his face? I carefully move over to you and lean over you while you're still sleeping. I brush my tits across your cheeks and your mouth. You twitch your nose from the feel of something brushing against you and you go back to your dream. Wow! What the hell could you possibly be dreaming about that has you so occupied? Being the stinker that I am, I raise my hips off the bed and place one leg on either side of you. Once again I let my tits flop in your face a little and you still don't awaken. I look down at your morning wood and I notice that it is absolutely throbbing and that pre-cum is starting to ooze out of the tip. Oh, now I know what you're dreaming about! I open my legs a little further and I slide down into position to wake you up and make your dream come true. As I slide down on to you, you sleepily look up at me and smile. I tell you that I hope that you don't mind me waking you up, but if you rather not fuck you can go back to sleep. As I lift my leg to dismount you you grab my hips and lock me back into position on top of you. The radio is playing in the background and I fall into rhythm with the syncopation of the music, grinding fast and slow in spots and just like the music coming to or better yet, "cumming" to a BIG FINISH. We lay there for a while and then finish our fuck frenzy in the shower as we get ready to go celebrate your birthday. I get dressed in my mocha demi set and then put over it my denim skirt a pullover sweater and as soon as you are done dressing we make our journey to Illinois. We walk into the smoky filled club and there is a long corridor with several doors off to each side. As we walk down the corridor we can hear moans, screams and other sounds of passion filling the air. The smell of cum is thick and fills your nostrils from the second you walk in. Towards the front there is a gift shop where you can purchase everything from lotions, condoms, books, toys to sensual clothing. I grab your hand and lead you to the main stage area and we are just in time to see a woman being fucked in the ass and the pussy. The woman on the floor is completely naked and on her knees. She was leaning back into a guy on his knees also who was thrusting wildly into her asshole. The man fucking her ass had his hands stretched back behind him supporting their weight. In front of the woman was the second man who was also on his knees but facing the woman and drilling into her hot pussy. You and I found a seat right in the front and we could hear the juices of the woman's pussy splashing up against the first guy's dick. They all seemed to be in rhythm and they were all moaning and on the brink of orgasm. Suddenly the woman stopped moving and the men pounded into her simultaneously bringing her and themselves to an orgasmic end. The men came up to support her as her body racked with spasms. As they walked off the stage, you could see cum sliding down the woman's thighs in the front as well as in the back. Her inner thighs, ass and her pussy were all beet red from the friction. We all clapped for the performance and I told you that I would be right back. While waiting for me to return, the host of tonight's show came on to the stage. He said that it was the club's custom to celebrate birthdays and that today we had a birthday guest in our audience. Your were shocked when the guy asked PoohBear to come take a seat center stage. You went up to the stage and the guy told you to go back stage for a minute to get into costume. You went into the back and were given a pair of blue silk boxers to wear and told to go back to your seat on the stage. The lights were dimmed and the music started playing as your birthday show began. You looked out into the audience for me, hoping that I would hurry back to see you, but you couldn't find me anywhere in the crowd. I walked up behind you and asked you who you were looking for? You looked over at me and just smiled this sheepish grin and I told you that I wouldn't dare leave you up here by yourself and that if you didn't mind I was going to give you a birthday show in front of a very captive audience. The first part of my little love dance for you was a lap dance. I rubbed my ass against your dick through my cuts and your boxers, feeling you get harder and harder with each stroke. I looked out into the audience and became more turned on at the hundred pair of eyes that was staring up at us. The more they watched the more I rubbed against you loving that we were going to show them how great we are together. I could feel my cuts getting wet as my desire for you was turned on full blast and your dick was starting to make an indentation in my cuts and poke in my ass and pussy a bit from the wetness. Over and over I rolled my hips down onto the bulge between your legs that kept getting harder and harder. When I felt like you were ready for me, we moved into the second movement of the dance. I sat down on the floor and told you to come over to me and to slide off your boxers. You did and then I told you to get down on your hands and feet and crabwalk your way over to me. As you did this the crowd watched your rock hard dick bounce up and down as you quickly made your way over to me. I told you to keep coming towards me until your dick was right in my face and as you were like this, back arched, hands supporting your weight, me holding on to your hips, I then took you into my mouth. I could smell cigarettes and fatties being lit up and zippers being unzipped. Since we were in a theater in the round, we could watch other couples as they were watching us. There was one couple in the front row who were down on the floor fucking wild and free, the woman screaming out to match her partner's cries, the smell of their fuck was permeating the room. Over in the corner there were two women bobbing on either side of a double headed dildo, ramming their bodies into each other tits flopping up and down in the air as they fucked each other. I licked you up and down and all around. Taking Altoids in my mouth to give you an icy hot sensation on your already sensitive dick. I start to lick the underside of your dick, pretending that it's an ice cream cone that is beginning to drip for me, which actually you are dripping for me. I lick slowly up in short little licks, letting my tongue dry out slightly to give you that rough tongue sensation. I slowly move up to the head and blow my Altoid breath on you, cooling off your pre-cum and heating it back up at the same time, while reaching down to tickle your balls a bit. I then start to lick your head violently making your dick bounce from side to side, the feeling of your engorged dick being manipulated like this is driving you and I insane. Finally I take you into my mouth, flicking you up to the roof of my mouth, having your dick rest in my hardness as I tongue milk you from the base of your shaft. I look up at you and your eyes are closed and your mouth relaxed as I can feel your hot cum traveling up your shaft to my awaiting mouth. With one final tongue milking, you explode into me so forcefully that I gag a bit as you shoot down my throat. For the third and final act of our performance, we have to fuck. We move back over to the chair among the applause from your dick being sucked. It's quite erotic and such a turn on to be applauded for your love making abilities and with the thunderous applause your dick begins to harden again. We make our way over and glimpse out into the audience to see the scantily clad couples, trios and quads, fucking with reckless abandon all because of the way we turned them on. The floor below is starting to become slick in spots from the mixture of pre-cum, cum and squirt. I tell you to go over to the chair and to stand in front of it. As you stand in front of it, I want you to open your legs very wide for me. I am then going to do to get on the chair, balance my hands on the seat of it and spread my legs wide and rest them on either arm. I am going to rest my feet on the seat of the chair. Okay, grab on to my hips and enter me from the back and pummel deep into my pussy. I want you to hold on to my hips so that the crowd can watch you control me and have me fuck you like you like to be fucked. I want you to hit my spot and make me squirt all over this stage. As you grab my hips and slide into my hot pussy, where you fit so perfectly, the crowd gets louder in their moans. You start to move my hips into you slowly, grazing my spot ever so lightly, sliding out and rubbing along my crease to stimulate my clit. That's it baby, drive me crazy for the crowd. Make them want to fuck like us, keep going baby, fuck me honey. You move my hips up a bit to elevate my spot and as you do so you I do a deep kegel. You do this several times making me tense up and arch my back, resulting in my kegeling you into me deeper. As I continue to grind against you ramming into me harder, you slide a finger into my tight little pucker. You slide in deep and make a "come here" motion and I buck against you and I scream out your name to thunderous applause from the audience. As I'm having my third orgasm you shoot hot stream after stream after stream deep into me. You reach around and rub my clit vigorously side to side and I release and squirt down the chair, drenching us both. We ride out the shudders and look at the crowd cheering us on. I lean over and kiss you deeply and say Happy Birthday, hope you loved your gift and as my clit still throbs we walk off the stage. The Gift of Us Once you have mastered this simple skill you may proceed to more complex interactions, such as changing the Variable Intuitive Drive setting upward. Do this gradually to get a feel for exactly how responsive your Randy Love Doll can be.