0 comments/ 18597 views/ 5 favorites Christmas Tryst By: SquiresBoy I was standing in front of the mirror when Laura got home. Our eyes met in the mirror as I put on my earrings, and she bent down to leave her briefcase next to the door. She wore a charcoal gray suit with matching vest, a navy blue tie and a sky blue shirt. Her dark brown hair was secured in a tight bun. She crossed the floor in bare feet, and I knew her shoes were lying next to the love seat downstairs. "Good evening," she whispered. She kissed my neck and ran her tongue over the shell of my ear. I shuddered and pressed back against her, dressed only in my strapless black bra, black panties and stockings. She put her hands on my hips and looked at my reflection in the mirror. "Is this what you're wearing this evening? Because I may dress to match." I smiled and said, "No. You're not as late as I led you to believe." I turned in her arms and said, "We have an hour." Her left eyebrow went up and I shook my head. "An hour that includes you showering and getting dressed and driving to the house. Behave." I angled my head toward her and she kissed my lips. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and her hands moved down to my ass. I felt her fingers through the material of my panties and I suddenly regretted shooting her down so completely. When she broke the kiss, she moved her lips along my cheek to whisper in my ear. "Leave the panties here." She sniffed my neck, taking a moment to appreciate my perfume, and then slipped away. In the bathroom doorway, she shrugged out of her suit jacket. Something about the back of her shirt, the wrinkles in her vest, turned me on. She turned to close the door, saw me watching her, and smiled. I waved my fingers at her, looked at my reflection in the mirror, and slid my panties down my legs and kicked them away. # The resort was lit up like a fortress in the woods, coming into view as we rounded a curve on the dirt road. I handed the keys over to the valet and gathered my shawl around my shoulders. I wore a wine-colored dress with thin shoulder straps, cut low on the chest and high on the leg. Laura put her arm through mine and pulled me close. Her hair was down, resting on her shoulders. She had changed into a dark black suit. The two halves of the jacket parted just enough to reveal the lace at the top of her blue camisole. A discreet sign pointed us toward a cobblestone walkway covered by an arched trellis. Ivy and tiny white fairy lights trailed through the latticework. We walked through the tunnel of lights and greenery and found a pair of open doors that led to a ballroom. A dozen people filled a room large enough for easily ten times that amount. A trio of chandeliers hung from the ceiling, accenting the flickering candlelight from sconces along the wall. A man in a white tuxedo approached us with a smile. I reached into my purse and withdrew the invitation we'd received in the mail. The resort was newly renovated, and this was the first Christmas party held in the ballroom. The invitation was simple; the words 'Traditions have to start sometime' written in gold script, with the address, date and time written underneath. I handed the invitation to the man, and he smiled. "Welcome to my resort, Ms. Seward." I thanked him and he slipped away to deal with the next arrivals. I led Laura across the floor as the band played genteel dance music. A few couples swayed on the dance floor, but I felt awkward at the idea of dancing when there were so few guests. So we stood next to the refreshment table. I took a champagne flute, handed it to Laura, and watched as she tilted her head back and took a sip. My eyes trailed over her throat, down to the wedge of her chest exposed by her jacket. When she turned toward me, I saw a bead of wetness on her upper lip. I reached out and wiped it away with my finger, and she sucked it into her mouth. Our eyes locked as she sucked gently, and a smile danced on her lips when I pulled my finger free. We made the rounds of the room, pausing to talk to people Laura new from the practice. I smiled when introduced, idly listening to talk of work and cases. I sipped my champagne, dutifully draping my arm around hers as I scanned the room and tried to drown out her voice. I spotted her first, a blonde with perfect Barbie doll features. Her eyes were wide and startled, blue as ice, and her lips were painted pale pink. Her blonde hair trailed down her back in a complex ponytail and, when she turned to look toward the refreshments, I saw that her pearl white dress dipped low enough to see the dimples above her rear end. I stood, transfixed by the line of her spine, and watched as she crossed the room. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and I took a slow sip of my champagne. "Laura," I said softly. She turned and looked at me. "I need a refill." "Oh," Laura said. She excused herself from her friends and led me across the room. I slid my hand down to hers and laced our fingers together. "I'm sorry if I was boring you," she said. I smiled. "You never bore me. I just needed a refill." We arrived at the refreshment table and I made sure Laura was between me and the blonde bombshell. Up close, her skin was even more flawless. She looked up as we approached, gave us a shy smile, and moved to one side to give us more room. Laura immediately took in the woman's bare arms, her small breasts and the gentle slope of her spine. I knew that look well; it was the look that meant Laura was picturing you naked, tangled in sheets, arching up into an orgasm. Preferably one she had caused herself. Laura held out her hand. "Laura Sanchez," she said. "This is my partner, Lynn Seward." "Pleasure to meet you," the woman said. Her voice had a thick accent, but it was clear she was fluent in the language. She took Laura's hand, squeezing the fingers gently. "Katya Martynova." "A beautiful name," Laura said. She kept Katya's hand in hers and said, "So what do you do, Katya?" I put my hand in the small of Laura's back and she turned to look at me. I smiled, dipped my chin, and stepped away from the table. Laura watched me go, and then turned to focus on Katya again. I picked up another glass of champagne from the table and meandered deeper into the room. More guests had arrived, and I greeted faces familiar to me from work and from the newspaper. Meghan, the resort's owner, was standing by the doors, and I took a moment to compliment her on how quickly the place had come together. Laura and I had been there a few times, weekend getaways from the urban sprawl, and we both adored the place. "It's still a work in progress," she said, "but I'm happy with it." I danced with Helena Thompson, a paralegal from Laura's office I occasionally flirted with when I stopped by to have lunch with her, and we pecked lips when the song ended. "Is Laura here tonight?" she asked, her hands teasing the straps of my dress. I knew what she was asking, so I smiled and kissed her again, longer this time. "Another night, maybe," I said. She smiled. "I'm going to hold you to that." We parted ways and I went in search of my love. The music had gotten louder, and the party was in full swing. I kept getting sidetracked by people who wanted to chat, but all I wanted was to dance with Laura. I needed to feel her in my arms, to hold her, sway with her. I reached the far end of the room without a sighting, turning to examine the room thinking I might have missed her. I thought perhaps she had persuaded Katya onto the dance floor. I smiled at the thought. My dear Laura had a thing for exotic blondes, and Katya was definitely a prime example of that. I thought about her accent; definitely Slavic. I brought my champagne glass to my lips when I heard Laura's voice behind me. It was quiet, barely a whisper, but I knew that voice like a mother knows her child's footsteps. I turned and searched for the origin, taking a few steps toward it. Most of the ballroom doors were closed, the rest of the building supposedly off-limits. But one set of doors was open a crack. I pushed it open far enough to see a dimly-lit hallway. Preparation tables for the caterers took up most of the space, but there were potted plants that I assumed were permanent installations. I stepped into the hall and moved behind one of the plants. Laura was at the end of the hallway, framed by an arched window. In the glass, I could see Katya was standing in front of her, Laura's hands skimming up and down Katya's bare arms. Laura's head was bowed and she was speaking so low I could only hear a quiet murmur. Katya's eyes were wide, focused on the scenery outside, breathing hard. Her lips were parted and she gasped as Laura's hands moved to her breasts and squeezed them through her dress. *"Leave the panties here,"* Laura's command from earlier in the night, and I smiled. I pressed my back against the wall, hoping the plant was large enough to hide me, and spread my feet apart. I inched my dress up over my thighs, watching as Laura pulled Katya tighter against her. They were both breathing hard now, and Laura gently bit Katya on the neck. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, and Katya's hand appeared on Laura's hip. "We can't," Katya said, her voice barely a whisper but carried as an echo in the hallway. "You have a, a lover." "We understand each other," Laura said. At that point, her eyes flicked up and seemed to find me in the reflection. I didn't know if she was looking at me or some object out in the lawn, but she kept the contact long enough that I knew she was trying to get a message through to me. I didn't want to speak, I didn't want to break the spell by letting her know for sure I was there. Eventually, Laura lowered her head and kissed Katya's neck. Katya moaned something in another language and her fingers tightened on Laura's hip, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. I held my dress out of the way with one hand, sliding the fingers of the other over my thigh. Up and down, gently brushing, teasing myself as I watched Laura explore the stranger's body in her arms. Laura lifted Katya's dress and I saw a pair of dainty white panties, see-through lace. Laura cupped it with her palm and Katya gasped, arched her back, and I saw her nipples were hard against her dress. Damn the window and its fuzzy reflection; why couldn't Laura have done this in front of a mirror? Or, hell, as long as I'm wishing, why didn't she just bring Katya home and give me front row seats? I ran one finger along my labia, gathering moisture, and resisted the urge to sigh. I knew that Laura was teasing as well, running two fingers back and forth over Katya's panties until it became too much. I closed my eyes and flashed back to the first time Laura had done that to me, sitting in her office. She was sitting on the desk, I was her client. Her foot, almost black in her stocking, eased my skirt out of the way, and I held my breath as it pressed between my legs. The look in her eyes, the question of whether she had gone too far, evaporating as I gripped the arms of the chair and rocked my hips against hers. The two of us, fresh from court, fully dressed except for her right shoe. I fell in love with her right then and there, watching how aroused she got watching me come. Flirting with danger, having sex in her unlocked office. But even if someone had walked in, she could have just dropped her foot. No one would have been the wiser. But oh... if someone had been watching... I opened my eyes in time to see Laura slip her hand into Katya's panties. Laura was whispering again, her lips against the shell of Katya's ear. I would have given anything to know what Laura was saying, would have risked ruining the moment just to walk up behind them and join the fun. But that wasn't what this game was about. I slipped one finger into myself and rolled my shoulders against the wall, watching Katya throw her head back in silent passion. Laura's hips were rocking forward, mimicking the act of fucking as her hand pressed into Katya. Laura moved her free hand up and tugged down the zipper at the back of Katya's dress. The bodice fell forward and I saw that her bra matched her panties. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning when Laura pinched her nipple through the lace, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger. Katya was moaning loudly now, and I wondered if people in the main hall could hear. My heart pounded; someone might come to investigate any second now. They would find me, hand between my legs, skirt up, fingering myself furiously as my lover fucked another woman twenty yards away. I sighed and strummed my thumb across my clit. I brought my legs together as I came, thrusting against my hand until the waves passed. When I looked down the hall again, Katya was quietly panting. Her perfect skin was flushed pink, her mouth open and her lower lip trembling so deliciously. I wanted to take it between my teeth, hold it, sweep my tongue across it while Laura dropped to her knees and... oh, would Laura rim you, my dear? Or would she just fuck you with her tongue? I whimpered and brushed my clit again, breath ragged, skin burning hot. Katya sagged forward and pressed her forehead against the window. Laura kept her body tight to Katya's rear, holding her close, gently rocking her hips forward as Katya came down off her orgasm. Laura pulled back, helped Katya back into her dress, and kissed the back of her neck. She held her hand out to one side, her fingers glistening in the dim light of the hall. Katya turned and looked at Laura, eyes wide and innocent, and she licked her lips. "There's a bathroom down this hallway," Laura said. "Third door on the right. Splash some water on your face. Compose yourself. Thank you for the dance." Katya nodded, understanding the brush-off, and wandered down the hall in a daze. Laura watched her go, then turned and walked back toward the dance hall. She saw me out of the corner of her eye and stopped, turning to face me fully. She ignored my lifted dress, my exposed pubic hair, and instead looked into my eyes. I held out my hand to her, and she stepped forward. She parted her lips and took my wet fingers into her mouth. She brought her hand up, brushed her fingers across my lips. I licked them, sucked the slender digits one at a time, and moaned at the taste of the flawless blonde. When we were finished, we dropped our hands and came together like two bits of magnet. I kissed her hard, and she moaned into my mouth, her fingers buried in my hair. I sucked her tongue, she slipped her leg between both of mine. I broke the kiss and slipped my hand into her jacket. I pinched her nipple through her sheer top and she grunted in pleasure. "She's coming back any second," I whispered. "She shouldn't see me here." "Okay," Laura said. I kissed her again, then pushed her away. Laura straightened her clothes as I pulled my dress down. I ran a finger along my bottom lip, tasting Laura mixed with Katya, and walked back to the ballroom. Ten minutes later, I was engrossed in conversation with a local doctor. I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned to see Laura. "Oh, hello, dear." I leaned in and kissed her lips. "Dr. Gunn, you know my partner, Laura Sanchez." Laura and the doctor exchanged pleasantries, and Laura slipped her arm around my waist. She placed something in my jacket pocket, but I didn't stop to see what it was until later. The next time I was alone again, Laura off with another lawyer from her firm talking boring legalities, I remembered Laura's covert move. I reached into my pocket and withdrew a pair of black panties. I recognized them as Laura's. The pale pink lipstick on the crotch, however, belonged to Katya Martynova. I smiled, brought the panties to my nose to surreptitiously smell them, and returned them to my pocket. # We left the resort a little past eleven. We found Meghan and thanked her for the invite. "You'll have to come again on New Years Eve," she said. I assured her we wouldn't miss it, and waited at the valet stand for our keys. It happened that we were alone outside, so once the valet left to fetch our car, I turned to Laura and said, "You will sit in the backseat when the car comes. Am I understood?" "Yes, ma'am," Laura said, having the good sense to at least appear contrite. The car arrived and I went around the front to take the keys from the driver. Laura got into the backseat on the passenger side, drawing a confused look from the valet. We ignored him and I pulled away from the curb. The headlights cut through the darkness ahead of us as I followed the winding road away from the resort. When we were far enough that I couldn't see the resort's lights in my rearview, I glanced in the rearview and saw Laura was watching me. "Tell me," I said. "Everything." "How much did you see?" "I saw you fuck her in front of the window. I saw you tell her to splash some water on her face." Laura nodded. "When she came back, there was a bead of water on her lip. I kissed it away. She tasted so sweet, I couldn't stop. I pushed her against the wall. I told her how sweet she was, and she wanted to taste me. I took off my shoes and pants, standing in the middle of the corridor, naked from the waist down. She knelt in front of me, licked my thighs. She kissed me through my underwear, teased my clit with the tip of her tongue..." Laura's voice was rough, and I had moved one hand between my legs. "Don't touch yourself," I told her. I looked in the mirror and saw her arms move to the back of the seat. She whimpered slightly, but otherwise didn't complain. She was always a good girl... when it suited her. I smiled and focused on the road again. "How was she?" "Fabulous. She had such a small tongue... so adept. She would... flick it against me, and it was like a shockwave. She put one finger inside of me, and it was so slender, so barely there. It was like being fucked by a shadow. A bright, shining shadow." She chuckled, and I could hear the desire in her voice. I was lightly brushing my fingers over my labia, feeling how wet I was. "Why didn't you invite her home with us?" "I invited her, but she had an appointment. She needed to be up early, so she was staying at the resort before catching a flight." "Pity," I said. But our loss may be Meghan's gain. "Would you have fucked her? Taken off her clothes, covered her body with yours, fucked that sweet pussy?" Suddenly, Laura was right behind me. Her lips brushed my ear, her hands sliding around and pinning me to the seat. She found my breasts as her tongue swirled in my ear. "No," she whispered. "I would be worried about breaking the poor thing. So fragile. Not like you, my dear, not at all like you." I rocked my hips against my hand and said, "I should focus on driving." "Okay," she whispered. She kissed my neck and fell back into the seat. "Get us home safely, darling." I smiled, withdrew my fingers, and brushed them across my bottom lip. # Laura carried me into the bedroom and spread me out on the blankets. She took off my shoes, but left me otherwise fully dressed. She kissed the arches of both feet and then placed them on the edge of the mattress. I pulled my dress up and she looked hungrily at my wetness as she backed away from the bed. First, the jacket went. She undid the buttons, let it fall to reveal the top of her blue camisole. Her shoulders were pale in the dim light from the hallway, her nipples hard against the silk of her underwear. I licked my lips and watched her undo the button of her pants, push them down, and kick them away. She knelt next to the bed and kissed my thighs. She ran her tongue up to my crotch, her hair tickling my sensitive flesh, and I closed my eyes. I clutched the sheets and fought the urge to thrust my hips against her, fought the instinct that made me want to shove her face into my pussy. Christmas Tryst It was Christmas – December 22nd to be precise - and along with our closest friends, Debbie and Alan, whom we'd known for years, my wife Jayne and I had tickets for a dinner-dance that night at a restaurant in a nearby village. Normally I'd have been looking forward to it but as I'd neglected a bad cold I'd had, and had now gone down with a chest infection, I was dreading it. Then, talking to Jayne at lunch-time, she'd told me that Debbie was also feeling lousy and really didn't fancy making the trek out, so we decided to leave it until early evening to make a final decision as to whether we'd go at all. As arranged, Jayne and I met at Debbie & Alan's straight after work to decide what was happening. Debbie was feeling even worse than me and really wasn't up for it and I admit to breathing a quiet sigh of relief at the news - I was still feeling like crap but didn't want to be the party-pooper. Then, just as I thought things were decided, someone came up with the idea that as Jayne and Alan were both fine and were disappointed at having to cancel the evening, they should still go - together. The tickets had been paid for, so why lose out? They had every sympathy for their sick spouses and promised not to fall about too much when they each got home, so would that be ok? Normally, I wouldn't have batted an eyelid at Jayne going somewhere without me. In fact, when we originally got together, she was really shy and reserved so I'd actively encouraged her to branch out on her own. But this was different in one very important respect. For some time now I'd felt that Alan was eyeing Jayne up in a way that made me feel uneasy. Knowing Debbie and Alan as well as we did, we spent a lot of time together and regularly had dinner at each others' homes. Being pretty broad-minded, conversations often revolved around sex, relationships and even swinging etc. but although we'd never gone as far as suggesting we try it, it was obvious from Alan's stance on the issue that he'd definitely give it a go if the opportunity arose. He also wasn't very good at hiding his obvious physical attraction to Jayne. Debbie and Jayne were very much alike apart from hair colour, Debbie being a natural blonde whilst Jayne was a brunette. They both had voluptuous figures, with boobs to die for. Alan's glances at Jayne when she and Debbie had had a couple of drinks too many and were fooling around and dancing together on boozy Saturday nights were all too clear. This unease I felt had been growing for a few months and it now set my nerves on edge when it was suggested that they should go to the dinner dance together. The fact that it was Alan's suggestion made it worse. However, just as I was about to voice some made-up objection to Jayne going, common sense prevailed and I overcame my paranoia. I had no reason at all to distrust Jayne, and even if Alan did try it on with her, I knew she'd give him a piece of her mind and that would be that. So, as Debbie was in no mood to argue, the decision was made and Jayne and I headed for home – Jayne to shower and preen herself and me to bed. As arranged, Alan arrived at 7 o'clock sharp - tall, dark and handsome in his Tux. He is, admittedly, real eye-candy. Seeing Jayne standing next to him in her plain, black but distinctly elegant and sexy evening gown (with plunging neckline emphasising her natural attributes to great effect), I again had that tinge of doubt that this was going to be a mistake. But there was no going back now. I wished them both a lovely evening and waved them off, all the time fighting the urge to take Jayne on one side and warn her to watch herself. All through the evening I was listless and, although still feeling lousy, I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed fidgeting, flicking around the TV channels looking for something that would take my mind off both feeling like shit and worrying about what Alan might (at least try to) get up to at the end of the night. The minutes dragged by. Eventually it got to around 11:30 and I'd wound myself up as tight as a drum. In my mind I could see Jayne and Alan in the back of his car going at it like dogs on heat. I had to do something about it – even if only to confirm that I had absolutely nothing to worry about. I got dressed, rehearsing in my mind the excuse I'd have to give Jayne later when she got home to find me missing ("Couldn't sleep and went for a drive." was the best I could come up with – but it would have to do). I now couldn't think of anything but the practicalities of finding Alan's car and staking it out without being seen, so off I went. It was midnight and I was just pulling into the village's car-park when I saw Alan's car right next to the entrance. I drove to the far end of the row he was on and reversed into a space, stopping just far enough forward to see the entrance, then I killed the engine and settled down for a wait of what I supposed would be an hour or so – the dance being scheduled to finish at 1 am. I was surprised, therefore, to see them appear only about 10 minutes later and head for his car. They were both weaving about – but as Jayne was leaning heavily on Alan and he had his arm around her shoulders, I couldn't tell whether they were both drunk or whether it was just Jayne and he was supporting her. Either way, their close physical contact tightened the knot in my stomach. As close as we all were as friends, I'd never seen them touch each other quite so much. It wasn't exactly intimate, but it seriously added to my unease and increased my suspicions about him. They tottered across to Alan's car – Alan leading Jayne to the passenger door. Then, as he opened the door for her, she turned and he bent down and kissed her full on the lips. My stomach somersaulted. He'd crossed that invisible line that had always limited greetings and departures between us all to a hug and a kiss on the cheek. But it was also clear that Jayne, whilst not exactly sticking her tongue down his throat, had made no effort to stop him. My hand went straight to the door handle – I was going to put an end to this right now. But something stopped me. Could I be over-reacting? Was I reading too much into a harmless gesture between long-standing friends? Then events overtook me. Jayne had slipped quickly into the car and Alan had done likewise, starting it up and immediately driving off. I noted which way they left the car-park and, as I knew there were no turn-offs for a few hundred yards, I took my time following them to avoid being spotted. As I exited the car-park though, I could see Alan's tail-lights disappearing up the road at some speed so, whether I wanted to or not, I had to gun the engine so I didn't lose them. We headed out of the village towards home and Alan was really flying along now. Then, about half a mile from a set of lights at a junction we had to cross (I was hoping the lights would be on green so I wouldn't have to pull up directly behind them – or stop suspiciously short of them), he suddenly veered down a side road that I knew eventually led to a large country estate that was a popular tourist attraction. They had absolutely no reason to take this road as it led directly away from both of our houses. My stomach had turned to water now as I thought about the implications of what was happening. This was no longer a paranoid, wild goose chase, leading to me feeling a total fool when I realised I'd got it all horribly wrong. There was definitely something going on. At this time of night, the lane was deserted and I had no trouble hanging back far enough to keep my lights out of Alan's rear-view mirror but still see the glow from his own headlights illuminating the road ahead of him. Being locals, we all knew this road really well so I began trying to imagine where they were going. There were a couple of pull-ins to allow traffic to pass at narrow points - and about a mile ahead there was a remote car park frequented by walkers using the local footpaths and country park. Historically, it had also been known locally as a 'lovers lane' at this time of night – but, modern times being what they are, it was now more seedily known as a 'dogger's den' – and I probably don't need to tell you how it achieved that notoriety. I now found myself imagining all kinds of wild scenarios. I couldn't think straight any more. That one action – turning off the route home – had confirmed all my worst fears and I began to believe that anything was possible. Were the pair of them part of a local doggers group, heading off to take part in a Christmas group session? Crap. This was my wife. She'd NEVER do anything like that. But that's what I'd thought 15 years earlier when my first wife had dropped her bombshell on me that she'd slept with a friend of ours. After the dust had settled on that little lot, I'd realised that anyone, regardless of how well you thought you knew them, was capable of doing anything. So how could I now be convinced that Jayne wasn't about to become the centrepiece of a 5 man gang-bang? Just as these, and even wilder thoughts were going through my mind, I saw the lights from Alan's car suddenly veer off to the right. They'd reached the car-park and had turned into it. I carried on along the road, slowing down as I approached the entrance. From the road, I watched as Alan's car wove slowly through the landscaped parking bays towards the end farthest from the entrance. As far as I could see, though, there were no other cars in there. I wondered whether I should drive straight up to them and confront them there and then. What excuse could they possibly have for ending the night in a secluded car-park in the middle of the countryside – when they should have been home by now? It was a rhetorical question. They didn't have an excuse. He'd taken her there to fuck her brains out. So, why wasn't I hurtling towards them, lights blazing and horn blaring – to scare the crap out of them and put an end to their little assignation? To this day I've never been able to answer that question. No. Instead, I drove on 50 yards or so to a pull-in and killed the engine. There was a perverse logic forming in my mind that told me I needed proof – to see them going at it with my own eyes – before I could confront them. So I quietly got out of the car, locked it, made my way into the woods and worked my around towards the rear of the car park. As I picked my way through the trees and bushes, it was clear that there were no other vehicles about and I could see the interior light of Alan's car shining in the distance. I skirted around the edge of the car park until I was behind and slightly to one side of the car and no more than 15 feet away from it. By that time, the light had gone off and the whole place was silent. What the hell was I going to do now? Then I heard the driver's door open and the light came back on – Alan was getting out. I was beside a large tree so I moved quietly out of sight behind it just as I heard Alan say "Christ that champagne's gone right through me – I just need a quick pee. Don't worry, I'll dry the end off when I've finished." I went cold. One of my closest friends had brought my wife to a secluded spot in the middle of the night and the bastard was now talking to her about drying off the end of his dick. The fact that Jayne was sitting in the car waiting for him could mean only one thing – they were in this together. This was no spur-of-the-moment "Oh bugger, we've run out of petrol." moment. I wanted to smash his fucking brains out right there and then. The problem was he had a good 4 inches and 30-40 pounds on me. I knew I could never take him in a fair fight but I had nothing to hit him with so I had to bide my time. He actually came right over to the tree I was standing behind and peed against the other side of it. Once he'd finished, I heard him turn around and begin making his way back over to the car so I peered around the edge of the tree. As I did so, I saw the passenger door open and Jayne climb out. She said "My turn now. Want to watch?" Despite my now-confirmed suspicions, I still couldn't believe I was hearing this. Here was my own wife talking dirty to my best friend before they fucked each other. She walked in the direction of the tree but stopped after only a few paces. She reached down to the hem of her evening gown and pulled it up to her waist, revealing her black thong and hold-up stockings. She held her dress in place then crouched down, simultaneously pulling the crutch of her panties to one side. As she began to pee, Alan strolled over and stood beside her. She looked up at him and as she did so, he unzipped his trousers and pulled his cock out. He was semi-hard and pointed it towards Jayne's face. "Suck me" he said. I was absolutely transfixed. I was rooted to the spot and could hardly believe what I was seeing : my own wife, crouched down and peeing whilst taking my best friend's hardening cock into her mouth. Jayne continued to pee as Alan placed a hand on the back of her head, coaxing her movements up and down his shaft. "You make me so fucking horny." he said. "I've never met anyone who gets me as hard as you do. If it wasn't for what I'm going to do to you next, I could explode in your mouth right now." Jayne pulled her head back. "Don't you fucking dare." she said. "I told you in the car what I want you to do. Help me up." He took her hand and pulled her up, holding her dress at waist height as he did so. He pulled her towards him and kissed her hard on the mouth whilst his hands dropped around behind her and grabbed her arse cheeks, pulling her even closer. I could see her hand disappear between their bodies, probably massaging his prick, judging by his moans. They moved slightly apart and he took her hand, guiding her back towards the car. Instead of getting back inside, though, he opened the rear of the car (it was a Land Rover), swung her around and sat her on the edge of the rear compartment, still with her dress around her waist. She lifted herself slightly as he grabbed her panties, sliding them off and throwing them behind her. Then, as she perched on the edge of the car, he took hold of her gown's shoulder straps and tugged them down. Jayne's breasts sprang into view, bouncing under their own considerable weight. She had fantastic boobs – full and heavy and with nipples hard from the cold night air. She reclined slightly as he leant forward taking first one and then the other nipple into his mouth, sucking on them greedily. "Lick me." she commanded. He didn't need asking twice. As Jayne leaned further back to give him easier access, he crouched down and, taking hold of one foot in each hand, he placed her legs over his shoulders and buried his face between them. She was silent for a few seconds then she began to moan as his tongue started to have the desired effect. As she got more excited, she leant on one hand and used the other to caress and knead her own boobs and nipples. Then, after a few more moments she reached out and grabbed the back of Alan's head, pulling his face into her crutch. "Suck on my clit." she said breathlessly. "Stick your tongue into me." "Jesus, you're soaking wet. You really were desperate for this weren't you?" Alan managed to say between gasps – she was nearly suffocating him. He moved away and stood up, pulling Jayne with him. He grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it off over her head, leaving her standing there in just her stilettos and hold-ups. "Cold?" he asked, eyeing her granite-like nipples. "It's the end of December and 5 degrees – and I'm as hot as hell. Fuck me." she almost hissed at him. And with that, she turned around and bent over, grabbing the door-frame on each side to steady herself. Alan dropped his trousers, took hold of her hips and edged forward, locating his target – then he slammed into her savagely. She gasped at his thrust, then moaned deeply. The slapping sound they made as he reamed in and out of her seemed deafening in the silence of the woods and the pace of his thrusting was frantic - as though neither of them had had sex in months. She urged him on. "Harder. Harder - but don't cum inside me." He obviously found it difficult to keep up the pace because, just a few seconds later, he pulled out of her, spun her round and sat her down on the edge of the car again. As if on cue, she cupped her tits together and pushed them up towards him as he started to toss himself off. "Come on you dirty bastard, spray my tits. I want to see them covered in your cum. That's it – faster. Faster." Then he came. He was grunting like a pig now as he shot his load over Jayne's boobs. He carried on milking himself for what seemed like minutes – long after he was totally spent. Then, as his body started to relax and he steadied himself on the door-frame, Jayne took hold of his softening prick and rubbed it all over her cum-covered tits, spreading his juice all over them. And all the time she was doing it she was looking up at him and smiling. Then she said "That's a good boy. Exactly the way I told you. Now it's my turn." She stood up and climbed into the rear compartment of the Land Rover, positioning herself so her arse was right in front of Alan's face, then bent over, spreading her legs as wide as they'd go. As she braced herself on the back of the seats in front of her, Alan moved forward and buried his face between her bum cheeks, licking and slurping at her noisily as his tongue slid effortlessly up and down her crack and between her legs. After a minute or so, he pulled back, turned around and sat on the floor of the compartment, shuffling backwards so his head went between Jayne's legs and buried his face in her pussy again. Jayne gyrated her hips slightly, grinding herself against his mouth and rubbing her clit up and down against him. As she did this, he brought a hand up between her bum cheeks and slid a finger right into her arse, making her let out a little squeal. Jayne's movements gradually speeded up and her movements became more rhythmic as her own peak approached - all the time her breathing getting faster and faster. "Oh shit. Shit. I'm gonna cum." she gasped. And with that signal, he put a hand on each of her arse cheeks and pulled her tight against his face. This time he couldn't have pulled back even if he'd wanted to as Jayne grabbed his head with both hands and ground her clit into him, shuddering and groaning as she came. The noise was guttural, animalistic, as she bucked and convulsed with orgasmic pleasure right in his face. It was the most erotic sound I'd ever heard. It's difficult to describe just how primitively sexual it sounded – borne out of pure, lustful enjoyment. It was the kind of sound that she used to make when we first made love years ago. But now it was someone else bringing her so much pleasure. That's when I snapped. Her orgasm had broken the spell that had held me motionless – condemned to be a voyeur to her infidelity. I looked around for something – anything – with which to hit Alan. I saw a piece of broken branch between me and the rear of the Land Rover – about baseball-bat sized. That would have to do. Now, could I get to it and reach the car before he could react? Just then he slumped, slated, onto his back on the floor of the rear compartment, followed by Jayne, with her sitting on his chest. She was completely obscuring his view and his legs were dangling out the back of the car, the lower half of his body totally exposed – literally with his pants down. That was my cue. Heedless of the noise I might make, I burst out from behind the tree and dashed towards them, sweeping up the branch as I went. Jayne obviously heard me before Alan did and she started to turn just as I reached them. Raising the 'club', I brought it down as hard as I could on his groin. With Jayne sitting astride his chest, even if he'd seen it coming he could have done nothing to protect himself from my strike. It landed perfectly, catching both prick and balls bang-on. As the blow landed, Jayne had realised what was happening and started to get up. Simultaneously, the pain and shock of my blow had caused Alan to convulse and start springing up. The net effect was that Jayne was thrust backwards and out of the rear door, going sprawling in the dirt behind me. But I was only just starting. Christmas Tryst Before Alan was even half-way up, I'd hit him again in exactly the same spot. This time, his hands, now free of obstruction, reacted automatically – flying protectively to cover his groin from further assault. Perfect. I hit him a third time. Another bulls-eye. This time, by the sound of it, breaking at least a couple of fingers in the process. That'd make it harder for him to hit me back, even if he could walk – which would be difficult with his pants around his ankles. These were the kind of odds I favoured. Now he was shouting with a mixture of pain and rage and beginning to struggle into a sitting position, not knowing what to do with his hands. I could see his dilemma. Should he use them to pull himself up and risk another ball-pummelling or should he continue to risk me pulverising his hands to protect his, now bloody and hopefully very painful manhood? His quandary was irrelevant. As he struggled to raise himself, I cracked him on his right knee as hard as I could. Good sturdy branch this was – it barely even flexed. Now he was screaming. "Fuck! I'll fucking kill you, you cunt." He obviously decided that he had to get out of the confines of the car so he put his right hand on the doorframe to pull himself out. Another easy target. "Not yet you won't, bastard." I said, surprised at how calm I was feeling, and with that I brought the branch down hard against his hand, this time almost severing one of his fingers. He bellowed again. "You fucking prick. I'll rip your fucking head off." Now he'd come far enough forward to try and get out of the back. He probably realised that he wouldn't be able to get far with his pants down so he leant forward, trying to grab them with his left hand. Even with the agony he must have been in, and with his right hand now almost mush, I still didn't want him leaping at me so, as he did so, I took aim with the branch and smacked him right across the forehead, knocking him flat on his back again. Apart from his hands and arms still twitching, he didn't move. After checking to make sure that he wasn't going to leap on me from behind, I turned to face Jayne. Other than picking herself up off the floor, she hadn't moved and was simply standing there, crying, her hands covering her face. Her sobs and almost total nakedness, combined with streaks of dirt, a skinned knee and laddered stockings made her look pathetic. A twinge – that was all, the merest twinge – of sympathy crossed my mind, quickly displaced by the memory of what I'd seen and heard just a minute ago. Other than a serious case of shame & guilt and a few scrapes, she was unhurt (unlike that prick she'd been screwing) so I had little compassion for her now. I think we both knew in that instant that, as far as our marriage was concerned, there was no way back from this. But now my anger started to resurface – I wasn't finished. I went around to the car's rear passenger door, found Alan's jacket and fished out his mobile phone and wallet. I also lifted Jayne's phone and house-keys from her handbag, then reached over the back of the seat and grabbed her dress and knickers from next to where Alan was still lying, now groaning. I went back to where Jayne was standing, flipped open Alan's phone and started typing a text message. "What are you doing?", Jayne asked between sobs. "Calling for help." I said. "Help? Why do you need bloody help now?" she asked. "Not for me – for you two." "What do you mean?" "I'm texting Debbie from Alan's phone, asking her to come and get 'us' because I've lost my car keys. I'll let you two explain why you're in this car park at one in the morning with no car keys, why you're naked, why Alan's got no pants on and why he's been battered." Even in this darkness I could see Jayne had gone from pale to alabaster-white as it dawned on her what scenario Debbie was going to find when she arrived in a few minutes time. "You can't do that. You wouldn't do that." "Oops – too late." I said as I pressed the send button and flipped Alan's phone closed. "You bastard. Well, we'll just deny everything when she gets here. We'll tell her we were mugged in the village and forced to drive here. We'll tell her we were both attacked and how Alan tried desperately to fight them off and save me. We'll tell her that I was about to be raped when someone else drove into the car park and disturbed them. She's been my best friend for years – she'll believe me, not you." "Ooh – clever. But don't relax just yet. I reckon you've got about 10 more minutes to also think of a reason why I've got Alan's phone, pants & car keys, your phone & keys and your dress & knickers in my car. And, if she notices it, why your tits are covered in his jiz for that matter – although I guess one splash looks much like another doesn't it? Anyway, good luck with all that." "You fucking twat. You really are a nasty bastard aren't you? How could you put us all through that? Why should Debbie be put through all the misery that this will cause? What's she done to you to deserve that?" "That's not even a good try, you conniving bitch. It doesn't come close to making me feel guilty for what I'm doing. This is entirely down to you – both of you. YOU'VE done this to Debbie, not me. YOU'VE deceived us both. YOU'RE the ones who've been screwing around behind our backs – for God knows how long. I give your friendship – and her marriage to that fucking tosser – about another 15 minutes." I felt my anger rising again - I needed to get out of there before I did any more damage. I strode over to where Alan was lying and now groaning loudly – still dazed and looking like he was trying to work out why his right hand wasn't working. Confident that he was no threat just yet, I knelt down, pulled off his shoes and tugged his pants off, stuffing them inside my coat with Jayne's dress and knickers. Then I walked around to the driver's door, reached in and pulled out the ignition keys, dropping them into my pocket alongside their mobile phones. And with that I was done. "The doors will all be locked so don't bother coming home." I said to her over my shoulder as I walked off across the car park towards my own car - with Jayne's shrieks and cursing ringing in my ears. As I was walking back through the woods, Alan's mobile started to ring, the screen glowing with Debbie's photo. I was torn. As a friend, I did feel more than a little guilty about drawing her into this situation in the way it was now going to unfold. On the other hand, arriving in the car-park to the scene she was about to witness would cause maximum harm and discomfort to both Jayne and Alan – and that was my sole intention. I wanted them to suffer every bit as much as I had when I witnessed their little display a few minutes earlier. How could they treat Debbie and me so callously? What right had they to be spared the distress that was now speeding their way, ostensibly on a rescue mission? I was hell-bent on destroying their cosy little world and it was just a pity that Debbie was going to have to suffer to bring it about. I was so angry about the whole thing that I actually felt it was a shame that I couldn't be there to witness it all happen. Or could I? Looking back towards Alan's car, I could see that Jayne had gone around to where, presumably, he was still lying dazed. She was no longer throwing insults at my back, so she couldn't see me. And my car was parked further along the road from the car-park entrance meaning that Debbie wouldn't see it as she arrived. So, what was to stop me circling back around the car-park, and straight back to where I'd originally hidden behind Alan's car, to watch the impending fireworks? Not a damn thing. If things turned nasty or it started to look as if they were going to concoct some fantastic story that would enable them to wriggle out of their mess, I'd be able to step in. And if things went to plan, I'd be there to witness their total humiliation first hand. I couldn't lose. So, turning all mobiles to silent, I carefully and quietly circled back. As I neared the tree behind which I'd originally hidden, I needn't have worried about keeping quiet. There was the mother of all rows going on and it was music to my ears. They were going at it hammer and tongs, blaming each other for the mess they were in. Jayne was cursing Alan for destroying their cosy little affair by being obsessed with sex and demanding that they have a "Christmas fuck" in the woods before going home. Alan, obviously in a gratifying amount of pain, was yelling at Jayne to "Shut the fuck up and find something to put on". Jayne then helpfully suggested that they should simply "... get the hell out of here" so Debbie wouldn't find them in this state. You'll understand at this juncture that I didn't marry her for her practical mind. Alan asked Jayne, as diplomatically as he could under the circumstances, what she thought Debbie would do on finding his unoccupied car, at midnight, in a deserted country car-park, after receiving a text calling for help and then finding no sign of him or her and being unable to get him on his phone? Might she call the Police? And would that be a good idea? (Actually, he wasn't in the least bit diplomatic but that was the gist of his thoughts on her suggestion.) Then, as it has an uncanny knack of doing, fate stepped in with the arrival of Debbie. Bit of a pity, I thought – I was just beginning to enjoy the cabaret. As Debbie's headlights swung around from the car-park entrance and advanced slowly towards Alan's car, both Jayne and Alan were caught like the proverbial startled rabbits. They didn't even have the wits to find Alan's jacket to cover her with. Slowly, Debbie's car inched towards them – maybe she was frightened herself, unsure of what she might find when she reached them. Eventually she pulled up across the front of Alan's car and got out – leaving her door open and with the engine running. She obviously hadn't yet seen either of them as she cautiously made her way along the side of the vehicle and around to the, still ajar, back door. As she peered around the edge of the door, she caught her first glimpse of them: Jayne – all but naked, scratched and mud-stained and now shivering uncontrollably ; Alan, moaning in pain as his smashed hands tried to pull his pants up at least far enough to cover his also battered genitals. Debbie shrieked. "Oh my God! Are you both ok? What the hell's happened?" all this said as she quickly crossed to Jayne, throwing her arms around her to try and comfort / warm her – though her eyes never left Alan. "Alan. What the fuck's going on here? Who did this to you? Have you called the Police?" "Mike. It was Mike." Alan hissed through gritted teeth. "He fooled us into coming here and then went berserk." Credit where it's due. He was undoubtedly in serious pain and probably still feeling groggy from the crack across his forehead but he never even hesitated. He was the consummate professional liar. I wondered if I should I intervene now or wait and see how his story developed. Once again, my curiosity got the better of me. "What do you mean it was Mike? What's gone on? Why was he here? And what were you doing here?" "We weren't doing anything here. We were at the dance but were both feeling a bit guilty about enjoying ourselves while you were both unwell so we left early to come home. But as we were leaving the car-park, Mike pulled up alongside us in his car and called through the window for us to follow him. He seemed really agitated but he didn't stop long enough for us to ask him what was going on so I had no choice. As we drove along behind him, Jayne kept ringing his mobile but he never answered." The devious bastard. I could see where this was going now. He went on ... "We followed him all the way here then as we jumped out of the car to find out what the problem was, he went crazy. He had a pick-handle with him and he just went off on one, accusing us of having an affair." Brilliant. I had to hand it to him, it was a stroke of genius. In a matter of moments he'd completely turned the tables on me and put me into the position of having to explain my actions. But he hadn't finished. "He was like a man possessed and he wasn't interested in any kind of conversation while we tried to calm him down. He forced Jayne to strip off, threatening me with the pick handle when I tried to intervene. Then, when she was all but naked, he cracked me across the forehead and while I was dazed, he carried on beating me. Look at my hands. And you don't want to see the state of my balls. I'm in bloody agony. He was a fucking madman. Anyway, he dragged my pants off, grabbed my car keys and Jayne's clothes then stormed off through the woods yelling that he was going to call you and drop us right in the shit. Then, next thing we know, he's fucked off and you're arriving. That's it. That's what's happened. Now, can we please get the fuck out of here? Jayne is freezing to death and I need to get some medical attention." What was I going to do? If I stormed into the middle of this little lot I'd have to argue the toss with Alan – with Jayne supporting everything he said. But if I waited, it would give them both more time to get their story straight and discredit anything I told Debs later. After such a plausible story from Alan, how was I going to convince Debs that I was telling the truth and that her husband and my wife really had been fucking each other for – well, who knows how long? How was I going to get her to believe me over him? I knew she'd had trouble with him being unfaithful a couple of years previously, with a work colleague at their annual works barbecue. Debbie had suspected he'd been up to something and had found some graphic pictures of them both on his mobile phone. After it had all come out, he'd managed to convince Debs that it was just a stupid fling and he wouldn't ever treat her so badly again. Then one night, a few weeks later over more than a couple of drinks, he'd confided in me that he'd kicked himself afterwards for being so stupid as to get caught. His only real regret was that he hadn't hidden the pictures any better – not that he'd treated Debbie so badly, nor that he'd been so fucking horny and vane that he couldn't resist the temptation to take some graphic pictures of them both 'in flagrante'. Could I leverage that little episode and use it to get Debbie to believe me instead of him? And then it hit me. Pictures. Could he have been so stupid as to make the same mistake again? Could I be that lucky? I thrust my hand into my coat pocket and pulled out his mobile. I flicked through the menu, into his pictures folder. There were only a handful on there, mainly of Debs and their pet Labrador. Shit. I remembered, he'd only had the phone a couple of weeks – an early Christmas present from Debs herself. They were starting to get themselves together now. Debs had found Alan's jacket and was wrapping it around Jayne's shoulders, while Alan was shuffling over towards Debbie's car. What the fuck was I going to do? Not only were they going to get away with it, they were going to make me look a complete moron to the whole world, unless I could prove they were screwing each other. I was just resigning myself to spending a sleepless night at home trying to think of a way to prove my side of the night's events when, as I was about to put Alan's phone back in my pocket, I decided to check the videos folder. There were 6. I ran the first one. Debbie walking the dog. Second one – Debbie protesting as Alan tried to film her getting undressed for bed. Third one – a bed. It was a hotel bed by the look of it. Empty. Then a woman, dressed only in a white thong, walked into view from behind the camera, turned, sat on the edge of the bed and smiled seductively into the lens. It was Jayne. She was quickly joined by Alan who proceeded to offer his burgeoning erection to her receptive mouth – and away they went again. I don't know why, given everything that had happened earlier, but my heart skipped more than one beat. He'd actually been dumb enough to repeat the same, stupid mistake. I didn't know whether to be relieved that I'd found the incriminating evidence I needed or even angrier than when I'd caught them fucking each other earlier. Whatever, I needed to be quick if I was to witness the result of Debbie seeing this video. I quickly created a new text message saying simply "Watch this – NOW", attached the video to it, selected Debs' name from his contacts list and pressed send. It was received almost immediately on Deb's phone – I heard it ping from where I was still hiding behind the tree. She stopped and looked at her phone just as she was about to help Jayne into the car. "What the hell?" she said, looking at the screen. "It's from you Alan." "Don't look at it!" he shouted at her. "It'll be from that fucking nutter – he pinched my phone. He's got fuck-all to say that we're interested in." But it was too late – Debbie had already read the message and was obviously now running the video, staring intently at the screen. Alan must have suspected that something was going wrong and he came charging, as fast as his aching balls would let him anyway, back around the car and tried to grab the phone off Debbie. Unfortunately, he tried to use the hand I'd mangled earlier and all he succeeded in doing was smear blood all over Debbie's wrist as she pulled away from him and backed off. "What the fuck is this?" she screamed. "You cheating, lying bastard. I should have known after the first time that you were a complete shit. But you .." turning to yell in Jayne's face, "you fucking bitch. You're my best friend. What the ......." - but she never finished the sentence. She just fell silent and stared from one to the other of them. After a few seconds, Alan, ever the consummate bull-shitter, tried to step in and fill the silence with some kind of justification. His sentence was even shorter than Debbie's last one, though, as she swung the hand holding her phone and smashed it into his face, splitting his nose and spilling yet more of his blood across the car park. As big as he was, Alan didn't dare retaliate, or even remonstrate. And once again, Jayne was reduced to tears as she finally realised the full implications of her disastrous "Christmas fuck". Nursing her sore hand with its skinned knuckles, Debbie ushered Jayne away from her car, shut the passenger door and climbed in behind the wheel, locking all the doors as she did so. As she revved the engine, she lowered her window a fraction and said "Not that either of you deserve it, I'll call a taxi to come and collect you. How you explain the state you're in is your problem. How you pay for it is your problem. Where you stay tonight is your problem.". Then, with a sad smile she added "But they're only the start of your problems aren't they?" and drove quickly away. As Jayne and Alan climbed into the Land Rover to get out of the cold and wait for their taxi, I too turned and walked, unseen, back to my car. Half way there, my own mobile phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. It was Debbie ...... Two marriages and a lifelong friendship were gone in the space of just an hour – though whether any of them would have survived much longer is anyone's guess. How would things have panned out if I hadn't been as suspicious as I was? Would Jayne and Alan's adulterous relationship have fizzled out eventually? Would they have decided to ditch our two marriages and go off together? I've always believed (rightly or wrongly – it takes all sorts I suppose) that if you were able to cheat on your spouse and have an affair, then you were obviously unhappy in your marriage in the first place. Would that unhappiness eventually have brought an end to our relationships? Who knows? Christmas Tryst I rolled my head back and thought about the first time I watched her make love to another woman. At the time it had seemed like everything was out of hand, like we had lost control of ourselves. She danced with an old girlfriend at a club, and I stood to the side and watched. We adjourned to the parking lot and they began kissing; I was too drunk to complain and Laura, by that point, was too horny to care whose hip she was grinding. When the ex moved to go down on her, Laura looked into my eyes. I was too horny to stop her at that point, even if I had wanted to, and I reached my hand into my jeans to masturbate. We kept eye contact through our mutual orgasms, and Laura tenderly kissed her ex good-bye. When we got home, Laura and I had rough sex in the hallway, biting, growling, pure and simple fucking, and I told her how hot watching had made me. We didn't do it often, maybe once every six months and only when we had a worthy candidate. Nothing got me off faster than watching Laura with another woman, watching the pleasure a stranger could get from my woman. I never would have guessed, as jealous as I have been in the past, but now it was one of my all time kinks. Seeing someone have her, but knowing that she was mine, all mine, the rest of the time. Laura circled my clit with her tongue, used two fingers on me, and slid up my body. She kissed my breasts through my dress and then licked my chest. I gasped, finally put my hands on the back of her head, and pulled her to me for a kiss. I sucked her tongue as she continued to fuck me, putting all of her weight behind every thrust. I bit her bottom lip and turned my head to the side. She kissed along my jaw, my throat and my ear, and I said, "Say it." "I love you," she panted. "Leslie, I love you." I reached up and turned her face to mine, looking into her eyes. I brushed my thumb over her lips and kissed her hard. I broke the kiss when I came, pressing my face against her shoulder. Laura held me, grunting with effort as she thrust into me as hard as she could. She ran her tongue over my shoulder, bit down gently, and then pressed her lips to my ear. "I'm yours. I'm always yours." I embraced her, brought my legs up and hooked them behind her back, and rolled us both. I kissed her lips softly and whispered, "I know, Laura... I know. Because I'm always yours." I settled on top of her, my head on her chest, and closed my eyes. There was a weak smile on my lips, but I didn't care. It was definitely a very merry Christmas for us. I could hardly wait for the New Year party.