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The 12 Days of Christmas

By: captainjezebel



On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . . a red silk thong. 

Actually, she had it delivered by a smiling delivery boy, because she was out of town on business. And there was a note:

"Lynne - Sorry I'm not there to open presents on Christmas. But you can wear this on Epiphany. A."

Anne was brought up a good Catholic girl. She was the one who had told me that the 12 days of Christmas are actually the days between Christmas and Epiphany, and NOT the 12 days leading up to Christmas. Twelve more days . . . and she would be home . . .

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . . two black fishnet thigh-highs, topped with red bows.

The note: "Wear these with the red thong."

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me ... three AAA batteries. 

There was no note.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me ... four long, red satin ribbons. 

No note, but they made my heart flutter. We'd only been together six months. Right before she went out of town, we'd been looking at magazines together, and there was a bondage scene I couldn't stop looking at . . . a woman all tied up in satin ribbons. I told Anne I would like her to tie me to the bed, blindfolded.

"But I don't think I want it to hurt," I told her. "I just like the idea of being out of control of the situation."

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . five dirty magazines. 

The note: "To keep you in the mood." 

I spent the evening looking through them, and couldn't help rubbing myself until I came when I looked at the angel and devil photo spread. A frail-looking blonde in a white corset, with white feathery wings, knelt with her hands tied behind her back, her face almost to the floor, her smooth little ass pointed upward. A tall, muscular goth woman in a black vinyl corset and black shimmering horns knelt behind her, wearing a huge black strap-on dildo. In the first photo, the devil was spanking the angel. In the next, the Devil was bent forward, licking the angel's shaved pussy, and in the third the devil's dildo was buried in the Angel's pussy, the Devil grasping the Angel's bound wrists from behind. 

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . a bright red vibrator with six settings. 

It required three AAA batteries. 

The third setting was my favorite: the vibration started very low, hardly any sensation at all, and then gradually crescendoed to an intense buzz that was almost painful, then dropped off to nothing.

It went VERY well with the magazines.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . seven red pillar candles. 

They smelled heavenly. I set them up on the bedside table, making sure a pack of matches was handy.

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . an eight inch dildo of marbled red and black plastic. 

It was capable of standing up on it's own. I stood it up on the dresser next to the neatly folded thong panties, thigh-highs, and red ribbons. I spent the whole day walking around with a tingling cunt, wondering how I could wait five more days for Anne to come back.

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . nine erotic stories, printed out on heavy parchment paper, and tied with a red ribbon. I stayed up late reading all nine, accompanied by my new vibrator.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . . . a size ten lace-up bodice of black silk printed with tiny red rosebuds.

I tried it on in the bathroom; it fit perfectly. 

I put it on the dresser with the other gifts, except the vibrator, which I was starting to spend an AWFUL lot of time with.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me . .. a huge black silk scarf, with a pattern of very suggestive red orchid blossoms. There were, of course, eleven of them.

It was definitely big enough to use as a blindfold.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me . . . twelve black Calla lilies, their color the deepest purple-red. 

I put the vase on the dresser.

The note: "I'll be home by 8:00. Be ready for me."

I could hardly do anything all day. I wanted to curl up in bed with the stories and the vibrator, but I also wanted to delay gratification so I could share it with Anne. So I tried to distract myself by vacuuming under the couch cushions, washing the shower curtain, baking a chocolate cake. Nothing worked . . . the day was unbearably long.

Finally, dark fell, and at 6:00 I decided to start preparing for her arrival. I ran a hot bath, scented with my favorite oils, and soaked in the scented heat while imagining Anne's fingers and mouth all over me.

I shaved my legs meticulously.

I smoothed body butter over my whole body, and sat naked on a towel filing my nails while I waited for it to soak in.

I put on my stockings one at a time, slowly, as if Anne was there watching me, smoothing them and fussing until they were just so. Then the red thong, settling it over my wide hips, where it showed up bright against my pale skin. I laced myself in to the corset, and couldn't help admiring the way it caused my breasts to look even larger and rounder than usual, giving me cleavage that could stop traffic.

I left my long, dark hair loose, falling down my back in shining waves.

At 8:00 exactly I heard the door open, and Anne's suitcases hitting the floor. I switched off the bathroom light after one last glance at myself in the mirror, then moved in to the bedroom to light the candles on the bedside table.

I sat on the edge of the bed facing the door and waited, my pussy tightening when I heard Anne's footsteps on the stairs.

At last Anne appeared in the doorway, wearing something black and clinging, with no bra underneath, so I could see her tiny, hard nipples pressing against the fabric. Her shining black bob was as smooth as always, in spite of her 8 hour drive home.

She came straight to the bed, bent down, and kissed me luxuriously on the mouth.

"Merry Christmas--a little late," she whispered, looking me over appreciatively. "And look at how nicely you're wrapped up for me."

She straightened and removed her dress, revealing herself in nothing but a black thong, black thigh-highs, and black heels. She walked around the bed to the dresser, where all of her gifts (aside from the ones I was wearing) were laid out in a neat row. She picked up the stack of magazines and came back to the bed, sitting next to me.

"Did you look at them while I was gone?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Did you touch yourself while you looked at them?"

My face warmed, but I looked in to her eyes when I said "Yes."

"Did you use the vibrator?"

"Yes."

"Did you put the dildo in your pussy?"

"No. I wanted you to do it."

She smiled wickedly, then handed the magazines to me. "Show me the parts you liked best," she demanded, her mischievous grin still firmly in place.

I found the angel and devil spread, and showed it to her.

"Why do you like it?" she asked, nibbling my ear.

"It's the same thing . . . being completely under someone else's control, and enjoying it."

Again the wicked grin, and she scooped up the magazines and took them back to the dresser. When she returned, she was holding the silk scarf and the red ribbons.

One at a time she tied the end of each ribbon to a bedpost, until all four posts sported a line of red satin. She kissed me one more time, and I watched as she folded the scarf in to a long, slim rectangle. She held it up in front of my eyes.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

I nodded, and she positioned the blindfold over my eyes and knotted it tightly behind my head, tugging it to be sure it wouldn't slide off. Then she gently nudged me on to my back and in to the center of the bed. 

I felt the bed shift as she moved, and then her hand lifted my left ankle, and tied one of the ribbon ends around it, kissing my thigh just above the fish net stocking when she'd finished. 

"It's not too tight is it?" she asked.

"No, it's fine," I whispered.

I was already starting to tremble slightly with excitement, my stomach doing that funny fluttering thing, just like when I was a kid waiting for presents on Christmas morning. 

As she tied the second ankle, she ran a smooth hand up my leg and danced her fingertips over the outside of my panties. With the silk between us, I could barely feel her touch, and I wanted more, it had been so many days since we'd been together.

"How about this one?" she murmured.

"Fine," I answered, a bit embarrassed that I was already whimpering.

She moved up the bed to my left shoulder and kissed my neck. Ran a palm over my left nipple, sending a shiver through me.

"You'll tell me if you want me to untie you?"

"Yes."

Her fingers lifted my left arm, and I felt the silky ribbon around my wrist, and wondered if I'd soaked through my panties yet.

Now she stood, and I held my breath until I felt the mattress on my right give slightly as she sat on it. She kissed the palm of my hand before she tied my right wrist with the ribbon, and it was complete.

I lay on the bed, arms and legs flung wide, blindfolded. She could do anything she wanted to me. But where was she? The room was silent, I couldn't even hear her breathing. Then the bed moved again, and Anne's tongue dragged across my right nipple, and retreated. My breath quickened, but I kept silent.

Next a finger slid between the panties and my skin, and then slowly inside my wet pussy. I thrust my hips slightly upward, but the finger quickly withdrew, and this time I gasped.

I felt her lean over me, her hard little nipple pressed against my lips. I opened my mouth, sucked at her breast eagerly until she pulled it away again. And waited, shivering, listening, and her strong fingers pinched my left nipple, hard, but not too hard. Just enough to send a fresh jolt of hunger straight to my pussy, and I whimpered again as the fingers released my nipple and withdrew.

The bed moved again, and I felt her thighs on either side of my head, and smelled her musky scent, felt the heat of her just inches above my face. I tried to put my mouth to her, but couldn't quite reach. She moved just a bit closer, and frustration gripped me as my tongue met the silk of her panties. I moved my face, nudging at the fabric, and was just getting them pulled aside with my nose, my tongue almost there, when she moved away again.

I think I actually whined then, and she chuckled somewhere above me and to my right. Another few seconds passed. I felt her mouth close over my right nipple and suck hard, her tongue flicking back and forth. Fingers pinched and kneaded my left nipple.

Then abruptly she withdrew again, and I wanted to scream.

Now her hand rubbed hard at the silk panties, right above my clit, and I pushed myself in to the motion, panting. I could hear Anne breathing harder too, and her hand was burning hot.

"Please, put your hand in my panties," I begged.

The hand was gone.

"I believe I'm in charge here," she said in a mock authoritarian voice.

"Yes you are," I replied, unable to keep from smiling, but also unable to keep from twitching slightly, wanting the hand back.

"You should apologize."

"I'm sorry."

"That's better." A playful slap across my pussy, then the bed dipped again and her cunt was over my face. "But I think you should make it up to me," she said, and now she was over my mouth. She must have pulled her panties aside, because I was able to get at her at last. I licked her the way I knew she liked it, fast and hard, first flicking her clit, then sliding my tongue up and down her pussy, tasting her, pushing my face up against her.

I'd only started to really enjoy myself when she came, rocking back and forth over me, and immediately she was gone, and I couldn't follow. 

She kissed my mouth, briefly, and pulled away, and then I felt her body lay atop mine, her head at my breasts, her hard nipples against my hips, and she ran her tongue all over my breasts, between my breasts, stopping to lick, bite, suck first one breast, then the other, and then, oh god, she slid down my body, pulled the drenched silk of the thong aside and pressed her hot tongue against my clit. I came at once with a deep, loud moan.

"Merry Christmas," she murmured, and I giggled. 

"Oh, but we haven't even USED all of the presents yet," she continued, and her weight was gone from the bed.

I heard the vibrator click on to it's lowest setting. 

"Which setting is your favorite?" she asked, her voice musical with humor.

"The third one."

Two more clicks, and I heard the rising and falling intensity of my favorite setting, and squirmed.

I felt her sit on the bed at my hip, and ease the panties down as far as they would go, over my widespread legs. A finger slid in to me, moving in wide circles, and now and then her thumb rubbed over my clit. Then a second finger filled me, and they thrust in and out slowly but firmly, all the while the vibrator buzzing somewhere out of reach.

The fingers withdrew, and I writhed my hips. And felt the cool, smooth tip of the dildo come to rest between my lips, almost but not quite slipping inside. She moved it back and forth a bit, teasingly, then slid it in all at once, so that I gasped. Anne pushed the dildo in and out, slowly, then gradually as deep as she could, and held it still. 

Her other hand came to rest on my stomach, vibrating. She was holding the vibrator in her hand, inches from my clit, not touching me with it. I moaned, but didn't speak this time. No way I wanted this pleasure to be withheld.

But she was not, apparently, ready to give me satisfaction. The vibrator came to rest against one of my nipples. I bit my lip and forced myself to be quiet, and she laughed at me. Dragged the vibrator slowly down the length of my stomach, over my pubic mound, and rested it just a few inches above my clit. I jerked my hips and considered begging.

Then she rested it against my clit . . . and turned it off.

"FUCK!" I screamed involuntarily.

"Language, missy," she teased. 

But she turned the vibrator back on, one click, two clicks, three clicks.

She started moving the dildo in and out in time with the slow rise and fall of the tempo of the vibrator. Heat coursed through my whole body, and my skin tingled, my toes curling and clenching. My thighs were starting to ache from their restricted position, but I didn't want her to stop and untie me . . .

My body started rocking, bucking, restricted by the ribbons, and this only excited me more.

Completely overcome, completely helpless, while my lover fucked me and fucked me and fucked me, with that taunting vibration up and down and up and down on my hard little clit, until I was thrashing as much as the ribbons would allow.

Until the orgasm ripped through me, my pussy clenching around the dildo, and with each clench the pleasure intensified so that another orgasm followed, and I was screaming "Oh god, FUCK, oh, oh, oh FUCK!", and I wondered if it was possible to hurt yourself from coming.

Until I twitched and begged her to stop.

"Are you sure?" she asked, and I jerked my hips and whispered yes.

She flicked off the vibrator, and I took a deep breath, my pussy still clenching around the dildo, which she removed slowly. 

I felt her lips kiss my stomach, and her face came to rest against my hip.

Then she untied my ankles, and I drew up my aching legs, sighing deeply. My pussy was still tingling and twitching from all the stimulation, but warm contentment was settling in my stomach. 

She caressed my breasts a few times before removing the ribbons around my wrists. Kissed my lips as she removed the blindfold, and her dark brown eyes looked in to mine, dancing with merriment.

"So, how do you feel?" she asked, caressing my hair.

"Mmmmm," I said. "That was quite an Epiphany."

I can't wait to celebrate again next year.

The 12 Days of Christmas



"So what do you want for Christmas, Colin?" my wife asked me a couple of weeks before the day. I had just lost my job; we had enough saved to be OK financially for quite a while, but we were trying to cut back this year all the same. We had agreed not to spend much on each other so we could spend a little more on our 8-year-old daughter, and we were both finding it hard to find something that wasn't a cliché. She didn't need more perfume, and I didn't need more ties.

I didn't really have any ideas for myself, either, except one. So I gave her that one: "You know what I want, Wendy? I want one orgasm a day for each of the 12 days of Christmas." I knew she wouldn't go for it; we'd hardly touched each other in over a year. In fact we didn't even really like each other all that much anymore; our daughter was the only reason I hadn't left yet. But I didn't have anything to lose; I'd stopped expecting her to say yes a long time ago, and stopped asking almost a year ago. Stopped trying, too, probably.

As I figured, she scoffed, and I laughed it off as if I'd been kidding. I told her I didn't really need anything; she could just grab some stuff out of our closet, wrap that up and we'd pretend it was new, and that was the end of the conversation.

We had a pretty nice Christmas, actually. We managed to find a few things our daughter really wanted on sale for good prices, surprised her with a few things she hadn't asked for, and gave each other a couple things that made us laugh, which was a nice change; we hadn't done that much lately, either. Around 7, our daughter announced she'd had a long day and was going up to get ready for bed. Wendy went up to help, and I stayed in the family room, reading a joke book she'd bought me and eating gingerbread cookies. After a while, like every night, Wendy called down that it was my turn, and I went up to read, sing, and say good-night to our daughter.

I went back downstairs about 20 minutes later and headed for the family room again to finish the joke book. But the lights were off, and in the light from the Christmas tree I saw Wendy, lying on her side on a blanket on the floor, facing away from me and watching the fire. She was wearing a fluffy bathrobe I'd bought her a couple of Christmases ago; I'd bought it along with a lacy set of underwear, hoping to rekindle something, but she'd never worn either one before now. The robe wasn't sexy at all, just something to keep her warm over the babydoll and panties I'd hoped to see her in back then -- so I didn't think much about seeing her in the robe. I said "Mind if I turn the light back on so I can read?" Without turning, she said, "You can ... but I've got one more present for you if you want it."

I said, "Sure, OK," and sat on the blanket behind her and waited. She rolled onto her back and put her head in my lap, looked up at me and said, "Aren't you going to unwrap me?"

You know, I almost didn't. I had pretty well convinced myself that she just didn't care about sex, or me, anymore, and I almost decided I'd rather not be reminded of how great our sex had always been together and then go without it for weeks or months or a year again. Finally, I thought, "What the hell, I'm tired of taking care of myself all the time, might as well." Out loud I said something incredibly smart like, "Oh, OK, sure." I did something smarter, though: I bent down and kissed her, then slid my hands down her shoulders and arms until I reached the belt on the robe. I loosened the belt slowly, then reached back to her shoulders and slid my hands down again, this time along the narrow V of the robe's neckline. My thumbs inside gently brushed her skin on the insides of her breasts and her stomach as I moved my hands slowly down and apart until I reached her hips, then down and to the sides to pull the robe completely open. She was naked under the robe.

Now, my wife let herself go not long after we got married. She's not obese, but she's a lot heavier than she should be, and I don't find that physically attractive, never have. But she's always had great breasts, at least in my book; the B cups she had when we met had filled out to C's while she was pregnant and had never gone back. And it had been a long time since I'd seen any breasts at all live and in person, and there in the firelight and the glow of the tree, for the first time in a long time I didn't care about the extra pounds. I felt a stirring in my jeans I hadn't expected to feel for her again, and I bent down and kissed her again, more seriously this time.

I had just started to slide my hands back up her stomach toward her breasts when she rolled out from under me, tucked her knees under herself and sat on her heels facing me, the robe still open. She said, "Today's the first day of Christmas. How do you want your orgasm?" That's the first time I'd thought about what I had asked for since our conversation a couple of weeks earlier, and the stirring in my jeans stopped stirring and started stiffening.

I knew what I wanted: I wanted her mouth, and I wanted to come down her throat. She gives fantastic blowjobs, taking her time, licking everywhere, and somehow doing an incredible variety of tricks with her tongue even when she's got all of me in her mouth. But after all this time, I didn't want to be selfish, and I didn't want to ask her for something she might not be emotionally ready to do. So I said, "You're the one giving the present. Your choice."

She looked at me a little mischievously and said, "Good answer." She lay on her back again, but with her head on a pillow this time instead of in my lap. She took my hand and pulled me over to her, guiding me until I understood where she wanted me: kneeling over her breasts. 

Then she started fondling my balls, tracing light circles with a fingertip at first, then pinching my scrotum gently between a thumb and finger and rolling the skin back and forth. Next she traced her finger up the underside of my shaft, over the tip and back down the top. "We need a little lubrication," she said, picking her head up off the pillow. I moved forward eagerly, and she took all of my 6 inches in one fast motion, then came back up slowly, licking everywhere she could on the way. Then she pushed me back and started in with her hand again, rubbing my now glistening frenulum and head, then grasping my shaft and starting in with some serious stroking. After licking the fingers of her other hand, she reached under me and started lightly caressing the space between my balls and my ass, which she knows I love -- more so when she used to do it with her tongue, but a wet finger is great, too. She traced upward with those fingers to make light circles around my ass while keeping up a good steady stroke with her other hand.

I felt myself building to climax and tried to stop the stroking, wanting it to last longer. She kept going. I moaned a little and said, "I'm gonna come ...", and she said, "I want you to come on my breasts. I'm going to keep stroking you until you cover my breasts with your hot cum. I want to watch you spurt all over me."

She's never been much for dirty talk, and hearing her talk that way was all it took. She had barely finished saying "all over me" when she said "Oh yeah, just like that!" as she got what she wanted. I hadn't come in a couple of weeks -- I really had grown tired of taking care of it myself -- and she got a big load. She aimed me a little differently between spurts, getting some on each breast, including one stream that landed across her left nipple. One spurt made a puddle right at the base of her throat; another puddle collected between her breasts. I thought I was coming forever; I know it was just a handjob, but it was the first one in a very long time, and it was great.

She kept stroking me lightly with one hand and caressing my balls, my butt, and the space between them with the other hand a little longer, then gave my shaft a good firm milking motion, squeezing out one last drop of cum. She rubbed my cock on her right nipple, the one that didn't have any cum on it yet, to coat it, too. Then she looked up at me with more mischief in her eyes and said, "Does it have to be only one a day?" 

I said, "You're the one giving the present, it's up to you." 

"Well, this next part's for me," she said, pushing me toward her hips. "I want you in me."

I had started to soften up, but she opened her legs and rubbed the head of my cock between her pussy lips, and feeling how wet and slippery she was started the blood flowing again. She guided me in and soon engulfed me; it seemed she'd needed this for a long time, too, because she immediately arched her back, raised her hips and grabbed my butt, holding me in as deeply as possible, and she let out a long, low moan.

I'm still not sure why I did what I did next. Yes, I've always loved licking and sucking her breasts. Yes, I've always known she's loved it, too; she even used to come that way sometimes, just from that. And yes, it had been a long time since I'd sucked her breasts, and I wanted to do it badly. But then, they were covered in my cum. I'd never tasted cum, and never wanted to. I don't know, something about being with her for the first time in so long, fearing it might be the last time in a long time again, being inside her so soon after coming, maybe being inside her without a condom for the first time since our daughter was born, I just knew I wanted those breasts in my mouth and I didn't care. I flicked her right nipple with my tongue.

Wendy gasped and picked her head up. She saw my tongue dancing around her nipple, pushing that drop of cum around. She drew in a sharp breath, then bit her lower lip; then she said, in a voice sultrier than I'd ever heard from her, "Oh my god, baby, lick your cum off my tits!"

I was so surprised that I stopped and pulled my head up to look at her questioningly. She said, "Do it, baby! Lick it up!" and pushed my head back down. I licked up the one small drop on that nipple, sucked it up really; there was so little I didn't notice more than a little salty taste, and I kept licking and sucking her nipple. "There's plenty more, baby, let me watch you lick me clean!" she said.

This new side of her made me hornier than ever, and the way she was rocking her hips and squeezing her pussy around my cock made we willing to try just about anything. So I started at the lower end of the spurt of my cum that had draped across her left breast, and I licked right along that spurt until I got to her left nipple. By that time I had a pretty good amount built up on my tongue, and I got my first real taste of cum, and the first real feel of it on my tongue. The taste didn't bother me at all, but the texture was about enough to make me stop ... until Wendy whispered, barely audible, "Oh my god, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen." That was all the encouragement I needed. I looked up at her and smiled with my tongue out and covered in my own cum, and the look in her eyes gave me an idea. I kissed her, deeply, letting the cum drain from my mouth into hers. We played with my cum as our tongues probed and danced. After a bit she swallowed; I admit that was kind of a relief, since I didn't want to swallow it myself and didn't know what else to do with it. Then she grabbed both sides of my head, looked me right in the eye, and breathed, "More!"

I licked up the rest of that spurt across her left breast and up to her shoulder, and kissed her again. Then I cleaned up a spurt across the right breast, and the puddle between her breasts, kissing her after each one, all the while grinding my hips into hers. It took three licks and three kisses to lap up the pool at the base of her throat and feed it to her, and she just kept kissing me more and more passionately each time and eventually swallowing every drop.

"Is there any more?" she asked, almost plaintively. 

"I think we got it all," I said. 

"Then fuck me," she said. "Hard. Now." 

I raised her legs up and planted my arms straight up and down beside her breasts with my elbows inside her knees, our favorite position back in the day, and I pounded my cock into her slippery pussy with long, fast strokes. She had been right on the edge already from the action of my mouth and tongue on her breasts, the slow fucking we were doing the whole time, and maybe from the novelty of the cum play, and she rocketed to an orgasm after only a few strokes. I eased up to let her recover, but she yelled, "Oh god don't stop, don't ever stop!" so I went right back to pounding her for all I was worth. Instead of coming down from her orgasm, she rode the crest of the wave right into a deeper one, and a few minutes later had a third as I exploded inside her.

I released her legs and collapsed on top of her, then we rolled onto our sides with our legs intertwined and my softening cock still inside her. We kissed some more, and caressed each other's faces and bodies for a while, and we must've fallen asleep; I woke up some time later, still entangled with her, and found that the fire was almost out and I was a little cold. I wrapped the blanket around both of us and went back to sleep. We both awoke in the middle of the night and went upstairs to bed so our daughter wouldn't find us that way in the morning, and we slept cuddled together for the first time in years.

In the morning, before our daughter was awake, Wendy said, "I hope I didn't make you do something you didn't want to do last night, cleaning me up with your tongue like that. Was it awful?" 

"No, it wasn't awful," I replied. "I can't say I exactly liked the way it tasted or felt on my tongue, but I sure liked your reaction!" 

"I never thought about having you do that, and before last night I probably would've said I wouldn't like it. But watching you do that, knowing you would do that to please me, and then tasting you while you were in me? Un-fucking-believable!" she said. Then, a little shyly, she said, "It's given me a couple of ideas. Are you willing to play along?"

Smiling, I said, "I love this side of you, and I will do just about anything to help bring it out."

"Good," she said, smiling back. "Because today is the second day of Christmas."



The 12 Days of Christmas; Days 02-05



*** Note: This is the second installment of a story that began with a Winter Holidays 2012 contest submission. I hadn't really intended to expand it, but the story was pretty highly rated, and comments I got both publicly and privately encouraged me to write more. There won't be 12 installments, as some asked for, but if the ratings stay high I'll keep going a few days at a time until all 12 days are covered. I hope you like it. ***

On the second day of Christmas, Wendy had given me one of her mind-blowing blowjobs. It had everything: gentle licking from the tip of my cock almost to my ass and everywhere in between, licking and sucking of my balls, deep throat, tonguing my balls during deep throat ... She put every trick she knew into that blowjob, and she kept it going for almost half an hour before making me explode in her mouth. Then she kissed me -- not a closed-mouth peck like usual after a blowjob, but a full-on open-mouthed french kiss, with her mouth still full of my cum. Even after our amazing and first-ever cum play of the day before, this surprised me; she usually swallows, and has told me before that she doesn't mind swallowing but doesn't really like to keep it in her mouth. And even after two orgasms the day before, it was a big load. I gagged a little and was initially disgusted, and I started to break the kiss. She held me tightly to her and rolled us both over so the load drained back into her mouth. Then she swallowed it, and we fell asleep together.

On the third day of Christmas, she asked, "Remember what I did on our wedding night?" Oh god, yes, I remember: We'd made love, and after I'd come inside her she'd given me a blowjob. The sight and feel of her cleaning our mixed juices off my cock with her tongue was unbelievable, the hottest thing I'd ever seen. She'd done that only once more in our 16 years of marriage, even though she knew I absolutely loved it. She did it again, with a twist. She made love to me slowly and passionately, her on top, sometimes sitting up in cowgirl position, more often lying on me for maximum skin on skin. She timed it well and we came together, clasping each other tightly as we rode the wave. Then, instead of moving down to suck me, she spun around into 69 position. I looked down my body to watch her start to greedily lick and suck our juices off my cock. Then I looked up and saw some of my cum oozing out of her glistening pussy. I knew what she wanted, and surprised myself by wanting it, too; with her mouth doing magic on my cock, I was in that "I'll do anything for you, just don't stop" frame of mind in no time. I pulled her hips down to me and buried my face in her pussy, lapping up everything. And for the first time, I swallowed my own cum. I didn't set out to do it, but as the pressure from my tongue parted her lips a glob fell in my mouth, far enough back that it was either swallow it or stop what I was doing, and I didn't want to stop. We both came again in that position, and she spun around and kissed me again; she had swallowed my load this time, but I could still taste myself on her lips and tongue, just as she could taste both of us on me.

Talking the next morning about the previous evening's activities was becoming a habit. We both wanted to make sure we had enjoyed ourselves and weren't getting into anything we didn't want to. It was the most openly we'd communicated in a long time, and that was a great addition to our rekindled sex life. The improved communication was even showing signs of spilling over into other parts of our life.

The morning of the fourth day of Christmas was no exception. Lying on our sides facing each other and caressing each other a little, Wendy asked, "So, how did you like eating your cum out of my pussy last night?"

"I was so into what was happening, with my mouth and yours, that I didn't mind it," I said. That wasn't quite the truth; the truth surprised me, and I was a little afraid of how she'd react to it. But the new openness we were sharing inspired me, and I decided to go for it: "Actually, I kinda liked it. ... Are you OK with that?"

"I'm unbelievably OK with that," she smiled. "I never thought I'd like what we've done the last few days -- the playing with the cum parts, I mean," she added quickly. "But it's really, really hot."

"I liked eating you after sex better than I liked the mouthful you gave me after the blowjob the day before," I told her. "If you want to do that again, would you put my cock inside you first? I think that would be better for me."

"Sure!" Wendy said. "I might try that again sometime, but it wasn't my favorite either. Maybe I'd like it better if you were in me when we kissed, too." After a pause, she said, "I've got big plans for tonight. You gonna be 'up' for it?"

I said, "I don't know if I'll have two in me tonight, but one won't be any problem."

"Well, one is all I promised anyway," she said, winking. "It'll be a good one."

But by bedtime that night, nothing had happened. When she climbed into bed, Wendy flopped back on her pillow and said, "I'm exhausted."

This brought up a flood of bad feelings for me. For one thing, she hadn't really done much all day. Neither had I, it wasn't that; I just didn't see any reason she had for being exhausted. And for another, one of the biggest problems in our marriage, from my perspective, was that she didn't follow through with much of anything. The last three days, our sex life had been fantastic and other areas of our life seemed to be getting better -- and now here she was, bailing out yet again.

What she said next taught me not to judge so quickly. "So it's just gonna be a hand job tonight, OK?"

I looked at her and said, "It's your gift to give; it's always going to be your choice."

So she reached inside my pajama pants and played with me. She got into it enough that she tossed the covers off so she could watch. When I got close she told me to raise my shirt, and I shot my load onto my stomach. She cleaned me off with a warm cloth, kissed me goodnight, and we went to sleep.

The next morning, the fifth day of Christmas, she opened the conversation again. "I'm sorry about last night. I told you I had big plans; I don't know why I was so tired last night, but I just didn't have the energy for anything else. It was important to me to keep giving as I promised, though, so I hope it was OK."

That meant a lot to me. I hugged her, and told her again that how she gave me an orgasm each day was completely up to her. "I hope they're not all hand jobs from here on out," I said, "but even if they are, it's one heck of a present."

"Oh, don't worry about that," she said. "I told you I had big plans. Just because I didn't follow those plans yesterday doesn't mean I won't another day. Maybe even today."

Then our daughter was up and wanting breakfast, so I was left to wonder what those plans might be. 

My thoughts kept turning to that throughout the day as I applied for a couple of jobs and made some small repairs around the house. Wendy was out most of the day, taking our daughter to a playdate and running errands. The three of us played a board game that evening after supper and laughed a lot, which was really nice. When I came out of our daughter's room after reading and singing to her at bedtime, there was a note taped to the wall saying, "Come to the bedroom."

I did not waste time. When I got there, I found the blankets pulled down off the bed, a large towel in the middle of the bed, and a large bottle of lube in the middle of the towel. Wendy was nowhere to be seen. Another note was taped to the bottle: "Get naked and lie down." I did, quickly. I figured that big bottle of lube meant we were going to try anal for the first time. I was right -- sort of.

I hadn't been lying there long when she walked in. She was wearing that blue babydoll and matching lacy panties I'd bought her a few Christmases ago and had never seen her in until now. She looked stunning. One small part of my brain congratulated myself on a purchase that flattered her so well, minimizing her extra pounds in the middle and accentuating her amazing breasts. Another small part wondered if I was falling back in love with her, because "stunning" is not a word I would've used to describe her a few days ago, and it's not like she'd lost weight or changed her appearance since then. Mostly, though, I just admired my wife -- and then I noticed that she was carrying a gift bag.

She caught my glance and said, "Yes, I have a surprise for us tonight. Any idea what the lube is for?"

"I think maybe we're going to try anal tonight," I said. 

"You're right," she said.

She set the bag down on the bed and playfully smacked my hand away when I reached for it. Then she knelt between my legs, picked up that big bottle of lube, poured a good-sized glop into her hand, and rubbed it ... on me. On my ass.

Now, I'd always loved the little bit of attention she'd given my ass over the years. She used to trace circles with her fingers near it, and when I was really lucky she'd do the same with her tongue, but she almost never quite got right to it. Once in all our years together she'd put a finger inside me a little ways while she was sucking me, and I had absolutely loved it. I don't really care what you think about that; if you think it's gay or something, you haven't tried it. It's one of the most highly sensitive areas of the body, and the right attention feels fantastic. But this seemed like she had more in mind, and I was nervous.

She wasn't staying away from the target tonight. Her fingers were sliding up and down my crack with that slippery lube, and one finger slid right across my hole with every stroke. I moaned some encouragement. Just then I felt some pressure, then felt a finger slip inside me -- and not just a little way this time; she kept pushing it in, and said, "Do you trust me?"

I looked into her brown eyes grown dusky with lust and said, "I trust you." I wasn't actually completely sure about that, but I knew I didn't want her to stop what she was doing.

Without removing her finger, she poured more lube into her hand; then I felt a second finger pressing against me. Soon it too slid in. She was being gentle, sliding her fingers in and out very slowly, making sure everything was slippery. I closed my eyes, relaxed my body and just gave into the feeling; it felt great, especially when her knuckles pressed against my perineum as she sank her fingers all the way in. 

I opened my eyes again when I heard rustling sounds. Wendy was pulling something out of the bag. When I saw it, I wasn't very relaxed anymore. She had a dildo like nothing I'd ever seen before. Part of it looked like you'd expect -- cock-shaped, about 6 inches long and an inch and a half thick, sleek and blue, curved upward. Not very different from my own cock, really, except for being blue. But the base curved sharply upward too and had a kind of bulb on the end, maybe 2-and-a-half inches long and an inch and a half across. A dildo with a handle like that didn't look like something you'd use gently.

Wendy asked me to put a condom on it. While I was doing that, she managed to slip out of her panties without taking her fingers out of my ass; she kept the babydoll on. I handed the dildo back to her, and she held it pointing straight up and told me to pour some lube on it. I did that, too, and I didn't skimp. Then she tipped it horizontally and asked me to pour some lube on the other end, too. That seemed strange; I wondered why she'd want the handle to be slippery. 

And then she pressed the "handle" up against her pussy lips and gave a little shudder as the knob slipped in, giving her a strap-on without straps. She pulled her fingers out of me and wiped her hands on the towel. Then she put her hands under my thighs, lifted them up, and then pushed my knees down toward my chest, putting me in the same position I like her in when we fuck. And then she pressed the head of that fake cock against my ass.

I must've let my nervousness show, because she asked again, "Do you trust me?" 

I decided to do what I had done earlier: relax and give into the feeling. I trusted her enough to stop if I asked her to, so I said, "I trust you." And she pressed more firmly. I felt the head slip in, and she stopped right there, not moving, just watching my face; she could tell it hurt me a little, but not enough to stop. When she saw that I was relaxing again, she pressed it deeper into me, slowly. I could feel it stretching my colon, and it was an incredible mix of pleasure and pain; the pain felt good and the pleasure hurt a little, if that makes any sense. 

Just as she bottomed out that dildo in my ass, my hips bucked involuntarily and I felt a tingle from the base of my balls to top of my shaft, even though she wasn't touching me there. "She's hit my prostate," I thought to myself, marveling at how it had felt.

"You OK, baby?" she whispered above me. "I'm OK," I replied.

She pulled it out just as slowly as she had put it in, not quite all the way. It felt amazing on the way out, like all my senses were centered right there. She picked up the bottle of lube and drizzled some on my perineum and on the dildo, and kept drizzling it as she pushed it back in, still going very slowly but not hesitating this time and bottoming it out again.

"I'm only going to ask you one more time, Col. After this you'll have to tell me if you want me to stop. You still OK?"

"I'm OK," I replied again.

"Good," she said. "Because now I'm going to fuck you for real."

And she did. She started by rocking her hips back and forth, which made the tip of that fake cock bob up and down against my prostate. I could tell she was enjoying the knob inside her, as well as the ridges rubbing her clit, as she rocked. The view of her pleasuring herself on that knob and the sensation of that dildo dancing inside me were incredible. Then she pulled most of the way out again, a little faster this time, and tried a faster thrust. By the third time she'd done that, I just wanted her to bang me as hard as she could; I couldn't believe the feeling, couldn't believe I was enjoying this, couldn't believe I wanted more -- but I was starting to believe it was going to make me come. "Oh, yeah," I whispered. "Oh, yeah, give it to me."

"What?" she said, slowing down a little.

"Give it to me!" I said, louder. As she thrust harder and faster, I said, "Yeah, like that, do me, oh god, do me ..." Her own moans soon joined mine as the motion of the knob inside her and the ridges against her clit drove her closer and closer to the edge. As she came she slammed that fake cock into me, buried it deep inside and kept it pressed there while she shuddered and rocked. I wanted to cum so badly I reached for myself, but she saw and held my wrists down; she gave me two more firm thrusts and I spurted stream after stream of thick, hot cum on my stomach and chest. I came without anyone touching my cock! I wouldn't have thought it was possible, but it was the deepest, most satisfying orgasm I'd ever had. I could see in her eyes as she watched me shoot my load that she was amazed, too.

"Oh my god, you really were OK, huh?" she said. 

"Oh god, I was very OK," I said.

She raised herself off of the knob but left the dildo in me, lay down between my legs, and licked from the base of my balls to the top of my shaft, looking up at me the whole time. When she got to the tip, she winked and smiled at me, and then licked up every drop of my cum from my stomach and chest, swallowing as she went. I was actually a little disappointed that she didn't kiss me with a mouthful of it. But she did kiss me, passionately.

"I loved that feeling of control," she said. "But now it's your turn."

She rolled over on her back, and I rolled onto her, expecting to fuck her. "No," she said. "Come up here."

She slid down and I slid up until my cock was poised over her face. She took me in her mouth, working magic with her tongue as she always does, and as she sucked me deeper and deeper into her throat she reached around behind me and began moving that dildo, not thrusting this time but more of a screwing motion, twisting it back and forth, moving it only a little bit in and out. I would've thought I didn't have any more in me after that first load, but the action of her mouth and tongue on my cock and that fake cock in my ass made me fill her mouth just a few minutes later. She hungrily swallowed every drop, then eased the dildo out of me while I was softening in her mouth, keeping her tongue going the whole time.

She wrapped the dildo, condom and all, in the towel, then pulled the blankets up over us and curled into me; we slept that way until morning.

When we woke up, we quickly fell into our new habit of talking about the previous evening's festivities. 

"I wouldn't want do that every time, but last night was amazing," I said. "You think you might use that thing on me with your hand while we 69 some time?"

"Ooh, that sounds fun!" she said, smiling wickedly.

"Well, I hope you don't have big plans for tonight, because I still feel completely spent," I said.

"I'll go easy on you tonight," she promised. "But maybe not tomorrow."



The 12 Days of Christmas; Days 06-08



*** Note: This is the third installment of a story originally submitted for the Winter Holidays 2012 contest. There will be two more installments. I hope you like it. ***

On the sixth day of Christmas, we all went ice skating at an outdoor rink downtown. Warming up by a fire pit with some hot cocoa afterward, the sun glinting brilliantly off the snow on a crisp, clear day, watching a couple of much better skaters do double axels and lutzes, it felt to me like we were becoming a family again. Wendy felt it, too; she leaned her head on my shoulder once and told me so. We even held hands on the way back to the car, something we hadn't done in years; even with gloves on, it felt nice, almost like we were starting over. That night after our daughter was in bed, we made love. It was slow, passionate, sensual, and deeply satisfying both physically and emotionally, and that's all you get to know about it; that night's private, something only she and I will share.

On the seventh day of Christmas, we spent most of the day redecorating our daughter's room. We stripped off the old wallpaper with teddy bears and blocks, and repainted the walls. We'd painted them yellow while Wendy was pregnant, not wanting to know ahead of time whether we would have a boy or a girl. I'd told our daughter that she could have any color she wanted, and she chose purple. I did all the edging; our daughter did the bottom part of the walls and Wendy did the rest. Working together, we got the whole thing done in a day and had some laughs along the way. 

After supper, we sent our daughter to a neighbor's house for the annual neighborhood New Year's Eve kids party, which rotated around among eight or 10 houses every year. We'd hosted it last year, and I was glad we had a long time before we had to do it again. Most kids spent the night at the party, so we had the house to ourselves until morning, and even though I was pretty worn out from the day's work, I was looking forward to my daily gift. We had a party of our own to go to, but it didn't start until 9, and I figured I'd probably get lucky before that.

As soon as Wendy made sure our daughter had made it to the neighbor's house, she announced she needed a shower. Half-way up the stairs, she called down, "Want to join me?" I definitely did, and almost beat her up the stairs. We stripped while the water was getting hot, then climbed in together, both facing the water with her in front. I shampooed her hair and washed her all over, pressing close when I reached around to wash her breasts, stomach, and between her legs. After she rinsed off, we switched positions and she did the same for me. When we were both squeaky clean all over, she turned me around, knelt down and sucked me slowly; after a while I helped her up and returned the favor, getting her to come once on my face. Then I stood up, pressed her into a corner, and entered her; she lifted one leg and wrapped it around me, aimed the water at us, and we explored our wet bodies with hands and tongues while we ground our hips together. My orgasm triggered another one for her, and by the time we were coming down from them we were running out of hot water. We washed off again quickly, then hopped out, dried off, and got ready for the party.

We've never really been party people, but this turned out OK. A couple of good friends were there, and we met one new couple we both liked. We kissed at midnight and sang Auld Lang Syne with everybody, and shortly after that Wendy made our apologies to the hosts and we headed home. The hostess winked at me on the way out, which was very odd; we'd never been much more than wave-hi-to-each-other neighbors. I asked Wendy about it, and she said, "Oh, she wondered why we were leaving so early, and I told her we'd been wearing each other out lately."

"You naughty girl," I said.

"That's exactly what she said," Wendy answered. We had a good laugh over that, and went to sleep cuddled together and happier than we'd been in a long time.

On the eighth day of Christmas, before our daughter was home from her sleepover, Wendy looked at me over her coffee cup and said, "The last week has been great for me."

"Me too," I said, smiling.

"I don't mean just the sex," she said.

"I don't either," I said, still smiling.

"I feel like we're connecting again, like we've found something we've been missing for a long time."

"Me too," I said again.

"You tried to tell me once, years ago, that the times when things were really rocky were the times we should be having more sex, not less, but I thought you were just trying to get your rocks off. Now I think maybe you were right."

I thought a bit before answering that one. "I think I was right, but there's more to it than that. You've stuck to your promise so far, even on one night when I know you just wanted to go to sleep, and that means a lot to me. You've also shown a lot of trust in me by trying a couple of new things that some people might think are ... unusual, and you proved I could trust you with that dildo the other night. It's made me a lot more comfortable and confident in our relationship than I've been in a long time." 

She'd gotten a little teary-eyed as I said that. When I stopped, she said, "I never stopped loving you, you know."

"I know that," I said. "I love you, too." It was the first time in a long time I'd said that to her, and the first time in even longer that I'd actually felt it.

Wiping her eyes on her sleeve, she said, "Well, before this gets too mushy, you should know something. The last two days, your present has come from making love. We're not going to make love tonight. I've got something else in mind, and it'll build on that whole 'trust' thing you were talking about. Just thought you should know."

I got up and kissed her. "Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it," I said, just as our daughter came home.

We spent the day calling family, playing board games, and putting a puzzle together, all three of us, and never got out of our pajamas. After our daughter was asleep, I found another note on the wall outside her door, just like the first one: "Come to the bedroom."

Again, the bedspread and blankets were flipped down, there was a towel in the middle of the bed and that bottle of lube in the middle of the towel. And again, another note said, "Get naked." I did, and sat on the edge of the bed. I knew there was going to be more anal play tonight, and thought she might be the one taking it this time; the anticipation was intense.

Wendy came out of the bathroom in that blue babydoll again, but without panties this time. She walked up to me, took both my hands in hers, looked deeply into my eyes, and said, "I am incredibly nervous about this. But I trust you."

I started to say something, but she put a finger to my lips, then kissed me, and whispered again, "I trust you." Then she climbed up on the bed and got on her knees and elbows. 

I don't like watching anal sex in porn, and for many years I hadn't really been interested in doing it myself. For the last few years, though, I'd been wanting to try it, not because I thought I'd like the act so much but because I wanted her to trust me enough to let me do it. Like so many other things, she had never ruled it out, but had never wanted to really talk about it, let alone try it. And now here she was with her ass in the air, waiting for me. My cock went rock hard.

I picked up the lube from underneath her, and as soon as I saw the view from behind her I knew I had to eat her pussy first. Remembering how cold the lube had felt at first when she put it on me, I tucked the bottle under one arm to warm it up. Then I pushed her knees apart a little more, and with no further preliminaries, I buried my face in her pussy from behind. She wasn't expecting that, I could tell, and she twitched from surprise. But then I felt her whole body relaxing from the familiar yet exciting sensations. I've always loved eating her pussy, and although this wasn't my favorite position for it, I kept licking, sucking, and probing her until she came on my face.

Then I raised myself on my knees behind her, took the lube out from under my arm, and poured a good helping of it into her crack, letting it run down to her hole and drip onto the towel. I poured another dollop in one hand, and used it to coat my middle finger. 

"I'm going to start caressing your ass now, " I told her, and I did, running my slippery finger from her lower back all the way down her crack to her hole and a little farther, then back to her hole, then tracing the contours of her anus ever so gently.

"I'm going to press a little bit now," I said. "As soon as my finger slips inside you, I'll stop and let you get used to it." Something told me I should tell her about every step, so she wasn't surprised by anything. But she said, "Col, it's OK. I trust you." So I stopped the play-by-play, and I pressed until I felt my finger slip inside; then, as I'd promised, I stopped and just let my finger be there for a bit. In a few seconds I felt her relax some more, and she moaned softly; it sounded like pleasure, not pain, so I pushed in deeper, very slowly. There was a moment of increased tension; I caressed her back and butt with my other hand, and soon she relaxed again.

I got that finger buried all the way inside her, then started withdrawing it slowly. As soon I started pulling it out, she said, "Oh, gawwwd ..." with a little note of surprise in her voice. I stopped moving and said, "You OK, Wen?"

"Oh yeah, I'm OK, babe," she said. "That feels goooooood!"

Well now. This was really something; I didn't expect her to enjoy it, or to admit it even if she did. I warned myself silently to be careful and not rush things. I pulled that finger almost all the way out, drizzled some more lube on it, then put it all the way back in, still going slowly. She moaned again as soon as I reversed direction. When my finger was almost all the way out, I put a second one next to it and pushed in again. Again that moment of tension, again the relaxing and giving in to the feeling, and soon I had two fingers buried all the way inside her. This time as I pulled them out I wiggled them around a little and spread them out a bit; this got a deeper moan.

"Reach me a condom, Wendy?" I asked, and she got one out of the nightstand drawer and handed it to me. I gave it back and said, "I don't think I can open it with one hand." She ripped the package open, pulled out the condom and handed it back to me. I managed to get it on with my free hand while still moving my fingers slowly in and out of her.

I poured a bunch of lube on my wrapped cock and coated it all the way around and tip to base. Then I pulled my fingers out of her, wiped my hands on the towel, and pressed the head of my cock against her hole. Just as she had said to me a few days earlier, I said, "I'm only going to ask you one more time, Wendy. After this I'll stop if you want me to, but you'll have to ask me. You still OK?"

"I'm OK, Col," she said. "I want this."

So I pressed more firmly, and soon felt the head of my cock slip inside. "Where no man has gone before," I thought, but I kept that to myself. I waited there for a bit, but this time she didn't tense up, so I plunged it in deeper, slowly. As soon as I started moving out instead of in, she moaned deeply and lustily, and moved her arms to let her shoulders fall to the mattress. As I adjusted to the new angle, I saw that she had one hand between her legs, fingers massaging her mound. I gave her three long, slow strokes, reveling in the incredible tightness; I'd never had so much slippery pressure on my cock before. When I'd pulled most of the way out the third time, she rocked back against me a little and said huskily, "You don't have to be gentle."

I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly, so I paused and said, "Sorry, what?"

She said, "Do me. Fuck my ass like you want to!"

I had not expected this either; this woman I thought I'd known so well was full of surprises lately. I picked up the pace. Her canal was so tight that I couldn't go as fast as when I'm in her pussy, but I gave it to her deep and hard and as fast as I could. She kept rubbing herself with her right hand; her left hand clasped a bunched-up roll of the sheet. I could feel her insides clench as her orgasm built, and her rocking and shuddering as the wave crashed brought me right to edge; two more deep thrusts and I buried myself in her and stayed there, pulsing my load in her tight passage. 

I pulled out slowly, holding onto the base of the condom with one hand to be sure it came out with me. She moaned again and shuddered a little when the head of my cock popped out. I slid the condom off quickly and dropped it on the towel; then I leaned over her, reached both arms around her and raised her up until we were both kneeling. I ran my hands up under that beautiful blue babydoll and cupped her breasts; she twisted her shoulders and neck around, reached one hand around to the back of my head, and pulled me into a deep kiss. Then we collapsed sideways together on the bed.

After a few minutes I used the towel to clean us both off a little, and she went into the bathroom. I disposed of the condom, tossed the towel in the hamper, and was just pulling the covers up when she came back. She kissed me again, laid her head on my shoulder, and said, "Wow. Just wow."

"Yeah," was all I could think of to say.

"And just think," she said, sleep edging into her voice. "Still four days of Christmas to go."



The 12 Days of Christmas; Days 09-10



*** Note: This is the fourth installment of a story originally submitted for the Winter Holidays 2012 contest. This one is longer than the previous installments because there's more about the relationship as Wendy struggles with her new adventurousness. There will be one more installment. I hope you like it, but whether you do or not, please take a minute to leave a comment to tell me what you liked or what you didn't. ***

On the ninth day of Christmas, my wife seemed quiet in the morning. I tried to talk with her about the night before and her first experience with anal sex, but she kept deflecting the conversation. Finally, in mid-afternoon while our daughter was engrossed in a book in her room, I asked her to sit with me on the couch. She initially sat down at the opposite end from me; I asked her to come cuddle with me while we talked, and she did, but she seemed reluctant.

"Wendy, it's obvious that's something's wrong," I said. "The most important change for me in the last week or so has been that we're communicating so much better, and I want that to continue. Would you please tell me what's wrong?"

"You can't fix it," she said.

"OK. Can I at least understand it?"

"I'm not sure I understand it myself," she said.

"Would you please try?"

"I can't right now." There was a long pause; finally she said, "Will you be patient with me? I'll try to explain it, just not now, OK?"

Trying to hide my disappointment, along with my fear that we would quickly slip into our old habit of hardly talking at all, I promised I'd be patient and wait for her to bring it up again. We did our own things the rest of that day, and she was still unusually quiet at bedtime. As I was changing for bed, she asked me to leave my pajamas off and get in bed naked; this was promising on at least the physical level, and my cock twitched as I lay naked under the covers waiting for her.

She came out of the bathroom in her decidedly unsexy flannel pajamas and climbed into bed. "Roll over on your stomach," she said. I did, wondering what she had in mind; more anal play didn't seem likely -- and indeed, it wasn't in the cards. Instead, she straddled my hips and began massaging my shoulders. She gave me a nice long backrub, which she hadn't done in years. After working on my back for almost 20 minutes, she moved down and massaged my butt, then my thighs, calves, legs and feet. After a while she asked me to roll over, and I did.

She worked her way back up the tops of my legs, first one calf, then the other, and then my thighs. After she'd kneaded the second thigh for a while, she cupped my balls with one hand and lifted them toward my stomach, pushing and squeezing almost, but not quite, to the point of being painful. Turning her hand so that her fingers pointed downward, she started rubbing my perineum and the part of my shaft she'd pulled my balls up past with that hand. Grabbing my cock firmly with her other hand, she started stroking. When she saw a drop of pre-cum appear at the tip, she stopped stroking long enough to smear it around the head of my cock; that got a moan from me. Then she went back to firm stroking from the tip to my still elevated balls, giving them a solid bump on every downward stroke. The buildup was fast and the orgasm was routine as I pumped my load onto my stomach. She handed me some tissues, pecked me on the lips, said good night, and went back to her side of the bed, where she lay with her back to me. Except for asking me to roll over, she hadn't said a word throughout, and hadn't even looked me in the eyes.

I cleaned myself up with the tissues, then went to the bathroom for a warm cloth to do a better job. Then I got into my pajamas and got back into bed, feeling the mixed emotions of an unsatisfying release and worrying that all the gains we'd made in the last eight days were lost.

I woke up early on the morning of the 10th day of Christmas, around 5:30, but Wendy was already out of bed. I found her in the family room, curled up on a chair under a blanket, sipping a cup of tea and staring out the window. I kissed her good morning, and as I turned away she caught my hand.

"Will you sit for a while and just listen?" she asked, without looking up at me.

"OK," I said.

"I need you not to judge me, OK?"

"OK," I said again. I sat in the chair next to hers and studied her face. When she finally spoke again, she started slowly and haltingly.

"I've been fighting with myself since night before last," she began. That was the night she'd let me take her in the ass for the first time, but I didn't know yet if that's what this was about or not; I couldn't think of anything else that might've upset her. "The things we've done lately ... Some of them aren't things that ... Well, they're not things 'good girls' do. Thing is ... " Another pause, and then the words came out in a rush. "I liked them. All of them. And I don't think I'm supposed to like some of those things. And now I'm thinking about other things, naughty things, and I'm pretty sure I'd like them, too, and I want to try them but I don't know what you'll think of me and I don't know what I'll think of myself and I don't know where these thoughts are coming from and I can't stop thinking them and ..." 

When she had said she didn't know what I would think of her, I'd started up out of my chair. I'd moved next to hers, knelt beside her and taken her hand. At this point I put a finger gently to her lips. I took her face in my hands and said, "I know I promised just to listen, but you need to know something."

She looked at me for the first time and waited. "Nothing that we've done lately has made me think less of you in any way," I said, as reassuringly as I could. "I love you, and I love the change in our marriage, I love the open communication, I love the new adventurousness we've found lately and" -- with emphasis, I repeated -- "I love YOU. Nothing you could think about or suggest -- nothing -- will change any of that for me. "

Looking away again, she said, "Don't be too sure."

"But I am sure," I said. "I'm not saying I'd necessarily agree to try everything you're thinking about; some fantasies should probably stay fantasies. But I'd love to share them with you, even those." My wife had done so many new things in the last five days that I wasn't sure where her limits were anymore -- or even if she had any -- and the truth was that I found this incredibly arousing. I didn't think it was the right time to tell her that, though, so I kept it to myself.

She turned to me with a look that was almost challenging, like she was going to test my assurances right then and there. She said, "My favorite thing so far has been that first night, watching you lick your cum off my breasts and having you kiss me with it while we were doing it." She paused, uncertain.

"I liked that, too," I said, smiling at the memory. 

"What if it were ... wow, I can't believe I'm really going to say this ... What if it were ... someone else's?"

Unbidden, my cock sprang to life. I've fantasized about threesomes, both ways, for most of my life. Wendy and I had talked about it briefly, years ago; she had never ruled it completely out, but had always resisted talking about it, even as dirty talk during sex. To hear her suggest it now was startling, and the idea of a threesome, even a limited one, temporarily drowned out the thought of licking up another man's cum.

"How would it get there?" I asked.

"I guess I'd stroke him off the way I did you the other day, hopefully while you're screwing me," she answered.

"You also sucked me a little that day," I reminded her.

"So I did," she said, smiling a little for the first time that morning. "I suppose another guy would need some lubrication, too." Then she got flustered again. "Oh my god, see what I mean? I can't believe I'm actually talking about taking another guy in my mouth. Forty-something moms don't think like that, do they?"

"I don't care about how anybody else thinks," I said. "And even if we don't actually do it, this would be a fun fantasy." A look of doubt crossed her face, and I added, "Wendy, it's HOT just to talk about this. I'm so glad you shared it with me."

I thought about it for a few seconds while neither of us spoke. "Is that all you want to do with another guy, suck him a little and stroke him until he comes on your breasts?"

"Is that ALL?" she asked. 

"Yeah, is that all, or is there more you'd like to do?"

A little incredulously, she said, "Just that, and then have you lick up his cum and kiss me with it, yeah, that's all."

I thought about it for a few more seconds. One part of my brain kept telling me, "You know you want to watch her suck another guy, what are you waiting for? Cum is cum; who cares if it's yours?" Another part kept saying, "Dude, you're not gay. Why are you even thinking about this?" Finally I remembered a quote I'd seen in Playboy years ago; I don't remember who said it or exactly how it went, but something like this: A straight man will do anything a beautiful naked woman asks him to do. 

"Will you suck me off after I cum inside you again?" I asked her.

"Of course!" she said. "Does that mean ... does that mean you'll do it?"

"Y'know what? Yes. I'll do it." I said. "Got somebody in mind?"

"Oh my god, really?" she said, throwing off the blanket. "Feel this," she said, guiding my hand into her pajama bottoms to her slit, which was wet. "That just happened when I could tell you were actually thinking about it."

"See? This is exactly why I'll do it," I smiled, continuing to finger her. I think she would've liked to have me bring her off right then and there, but we heard our daughter coming out of her room and had to stop. I realized a while later that she hadn't answered my question about whether she had somebody in mind.

That evening, I dropped our daughter off at a friend's house for a sleepover. When I got home, there was a car I didn't recognize in the driveway. I walked in to find Wendy and a guy I'd never met sitting in the family room, each with a glass of wine. A third glass stood on the coffee table. Wendy jumped up and greeted me with a sensual kiss and a squeeze on the butt, then said, "Meet my friend, Scott. Scott, Colin." 

We shook hands and said hello. Wendy said she'd known Scott in college; they'd never been close, but had kept in touch over Facebook, and she'd noticed he was in town for the holiday. He and his wife had split up a year or so ago. "I thought he'd be perfect," she whispered to me when he excused himself to use the bathroom. 

It took a second or two to make the connection. As soon as I did, though, I felt my cock swelling. "Why is he perfect?" I asked.

"He's not a stranger -- well, not to me, anyway -- but he's not someone we'll run into often either. And he's cute enough, not gorgeous but cute," she added.

Scott was a little taller than I am, about 6-feet-1, and more solid -- more of a running back to my tennis player build. Blond hair, lighter than my brown; blue eyes like mine. Friendly look, the kind of guy you wouldn't hesitate to have a drink with. "Does he know why he's here?" I asked.

"I think he suspects something, but I wanted you here when I told him," Wendy replied. "I want to see if he treats you any differently after he knows what we want, because if he does, he's outta here."

"And you're sure about this?" I asked. "You seemed pretty troubled this morning, and I don't want to rush into anything if you still have any doubts."

"I'm sure," she said, smiling. "I thought all day about what you said about our communication, our new adventurousness . I talked to a couple of friends, nothing specific, just, y'know, whether they'd ever spiced things up, and I checked a couple of online forums. I guess a LOT of 40-something moms do things. And besides, I LIKE what we've done so far, and I know I'm gonna like what we're about to do. And I'm OK with that now."

Just then, Scott came back into the room. We all sat down with our wine glasses, had a little toast to new friends, and then Wendy just laid it out for him. "Scott, I want to make you come on my breasts so Colin can lick it up and kiss me with it." 

You want a picture to go next to "savoir-faire" in the dictionary, this guy is it. One eyebrow went up just a notch, and his eyes flicked quickly to me, then back to Wendy. No other reaction for about five seconds; then he smiled. "Sounds like fun!" he said. 

Wendy said, "I want to be sure you understand what's going to happen here. You and I aren't going to have sex, or even kiss. I'm going to use my hands on you, and Colin and I will be having sex while I do. After you come, you can stay and watch if you want or you can get dressed and go, but Colin and I will be continuing on without you either way. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, and you can go now if that's not enough for you -- but I hope you'll stay."

"Like I said, it sounds like fun. And I'd love to stay and watch afterward if that's OK with both of you," he said.

"Great!" Wendy said, standing and smiling. "Then put your glasses down and follow me, boys."

She led the way to our bedroom. She popped into the bathroom, telling us over her shoulder to get undressed. Scott and I glanced at each other a little awkwardly; then he got this crooked grin on his face, shrugged his shoulders, and unbuttoned his shirt. By the time we were both naked and Wendy wasn't back yet, it was REALLY awkward. It's tough to have a conversation with a naked guy in your bedroom. 

Finally, he said, "You sure you're OK with this? I mean, most guys wouldn't even like another guy seeing their wife naked, and this is a lot more than that." 

I said, "Yeah, it's cool. I don't know if it'll ever happen again, but she wants it and I'm willing to try pretty much anything that turns her on, y'know?"

"I heard that," said Wendy, smiling as she came out of the bathroom. She was naked, too, which surprised me; I thought she'd have to work up to being nude in front of a new guy. It surprised Scott, too; I thought he'd give himself whiplash turning his head like that. He said, "Wow" -- not loudly but appreciatively. I thought that was awfully nice of him; with Wendy's extra pounds she doesn't turn many heads, though she does have a pretty face and those great breasts. And I could see the confidence boost Wendy got from his simple compliment. She'd been watching Scott's face, but after that her eyes drifted south; when her gaze landed on Scott's cock, she bit her lower lip and said "Mmmmm" just as appreciatively as he'd said "Wow."

I admit it, I looked too. Scott was starting to get hard, and I could tell his cock was a lot like mine; maybe a little longer, maybe not quite as thick, circumcised like mine, all in all about average, like mine.

Wendy confirmed this, saying, "Wow, you guys are almost twins!" I wondered briefly if she was disappointed, having hoped for a bigger cock, but she said, "This IS going to be fun!" and I quit worrying about it.

She walked over to us; from the corner of my eye I could tell Scott was watching her move and liking what he saw. She reached out both hands and gave each of us a light caress from the balls up to the tips of our shafts, and eying first one stiffening cock and then the other, she said impishly, "I was about to ask if you're ready, but you've already answered that question." Scott and I laughed a little, and he said, "Yes ma'am, I'm ready."

She took one hand each and backed up, pulling us toward the bed. Then she stopped, as if she'd just thought of something. Looking at Scott, she said, "What's your favorite position to watch when you watch porn?"

"Cowgirl," he said without hesitation.

"You heard the man, Colin," Wendy said. "Let's give him what he wants."

I climbed onto the bed and lay down on my back. Smiling at Scott, Wendy said, "Feel free to sit or stand beside us, or move around for the view you want." Then with a wink, she added, "Just be sure I can reach you."

Then she slithered up my body until we were face to face, kissed me passionately, sat up over my hips and guided me into her already slippery pussy. Scott wanted a view from the front, so he piled up some pillows and half sat, half lay on the bed next to me. The feel of Wendy starting to grind her hips against me banished most of my awkwardness about having a naked guy lying next to me, and the rest of it disappeared as I watched her slide her hand up Scott's thigh toward his balls. She caressed his sack lightly at first, then more firmly, then traced a finger up his shaft. Finding a drop of pre-cum there, she rubbed it around his head and tickled his frenulum with her wet finger; I could tell from his body language that he liked that as much as I do. She gave him a stroke, then said, "Hmmm, we need a little more lubrication."

Glancing at me to make sure I was still OK with this and seeing me nod slightly, she raised herself off me and kissed her way down my chest, then took my cock deep into her throat. I knew it was Scott who needed the lubrication, not me, but it was a nice gesture on her part; the look in her eyes as she gazed up at me let me know she was doing it to remind me that I'm her man, no matter what happens. Then she raised up off my cock, looked Scott in the eye, and said, "Your turn."

As she moved toward him, he put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Hold up; we didn't talk about this, and I don't want you to do anything either of you will regret later. You can just use some lube or something."

Wendy said, "Col and I talked about it before, and we agreed a little sucking to get you slippery would be OK. Unless it's not OK with you? You'll only get a stroke or two; if you'd rather I didn't, I won't."

Scott looked and me and said, "You're sure?" I said, "I'm sure. I can't wait to see this!"

Taking his hand off Wendy's shoulder and smiling broadly, he said, "It's very OK with me!"

Wendy moved her whole body over between Scott's legs and then looked straight into my eyes while she moved her mouth toward his crotch. She kept her eyes glued to mine as she licked slowly from under his balls up the underside of his shaft, swirled her tongue around his head, and then slowly took his entire length into her mouth. I could see her throat and cheeks moving and knew she was using her tongue on him inside her mouth the way she does to me as she moved slowly back up. The sight of his cock sliding out of her mouth, glistening with her saliva, was every bit as hot as I thought it would be. Imagine the hottest blow job you've ever seen in porn. Then imagine it's being given by a woman who's sucked your cock hundreds of times, so you know exactly what the other guy is feeling. Then imagine seeing it live, just a few feet away, and knowing that woman is going to climb back on top of you in a few seconds. It was Hot with a capital H. Very, very hot. The only reason I wasn't stroking myself as I watched was that I was afraid if I did I'd bust my nut right then.

She pulled up until part of the head of his cock was exposed, then -- still with her eyes locked right on mine -- dove all the way back down, fast. Then she came up slowly again, and again I could see that her tongue was working. Scott said, "Ohhhh, god, that feels good." Wendy pulled all the way off this time, flicked her tongue across the underside of his head, then reached up and started stroking him as she climbed back on top of me. She kept up the same rhythm with her hips and her hand for a while as I caressed her breasts; then I put my hands on her hips to let her know she couldn't keep that up for much longer if she wanted me to last, and she settled into a gentle rocking on top of me while continuing to stroke Scott's cock. She and I spent part of the time looking into each other's eyes, part of the time watching her stroke him, and part of the time watching the other one watching her stroke him.




The 12 Days of Christmas; Days 09-10



After a few minutes, she said, "Scott needs some more lubrication." I smiled in anticipation ... but this time after she raised her hips off of me, she reached between her legs, put first two and then three fingers inside herself, then pulled them out and rubbed them on his cock while she guided me back into her with her other hand. Scott watched the whole thing, and as soon as she started stroking her pussy juice on him, he said, "Ohhh, fuck. Ohhh, god, that feels good, you're gonna make me cum."

"Then we'd better change positions," Wendy said. She climbed off me and nudged me off the bed; then she lay on her back with her hips at the edge of the bed, pulled me around by the hand until I was standing between her legs, and guided me into her again, draping her legs on my shoulders. Scott knew what to do and knelt beside her on the bed. 

"Just a little more lubrication," Wendy said, and gave him another good deep-throat stroke. Half-way up he pulled out quickly, and Wendy moved her head away and stroked him firm and fast; she had felt him tense up and knew he was about to come. A few more strokes and the first spurt of his cum shot onto her left breast; part of it bounced across to her right one. I was still thrusting into her, and I felt her orgasm start just after his. Another gush, three, four, a smaller fifth spurt of his milky semen landed on her breasts as she came hard, clenching my cock so tightly with her pussy that I thought I'd go soft. This was good, though, as it took me away from the edge; I didn't want to come myself before I'd done what she wanted, because I was afraid if I came first I wouldn't do it. So I thought about baseball while I rode out her orgasm. As she came down from the crest, she milked one more good-sized drop of cum from Scott's cock, wiped it up with her finger, and raised it to my mouth.

I took her finger in my mouth and swirled my tongue around it the way she uses her tongue on my cock, tasting Scott's cum. Surprisingly, I noticed a different taste than my own; similar, and still salty, but different. It was thinner than mine, too, making the texture less unpleasant -- or maybe, I thought with a little concern, I was getting used to it. The feel of my wife starting to rock her hips against mine again ended those worries.

I pushed her farther onto the bed and let her legs down beside me, then leaned over her. I pulled almost all the way out, then slid my cock back into her while I licked up one of the lines of spunk on her chest at the same time and the same pace. Her mouth parted as I moved up to kiss her, and I let some of the cum drain from my mouth to hers before our lips met; then we were kissing deeply, passionately, rolling another man's cum on our tongues as we continued to thrust our hips together. As we were kissing with the third spurt I'd licked up from her breasts, she started coming again, almost screaming through our kiss. I could feel my own orgasm coming and knew I'd better hurry to give her the last two spurts of his cum, which had puddled together between her breasts. I slurped the puddle up and had just started kissing her again when my own release came, spasm after spasm flooding her slippery canal. My urgent thrusting helped Wendy reach a third crest without having come all the way down from the second one, and then we lay together for a bit, me still inside her. I bent down to suck her breasts some more; I could still taste Scott's cum a little, and I didn't care. Then she said lustily, "Come on up here for your reward, Colin."

I wasted no time kneeling over her face, and she sucked my semi-hard cock all way in her mouth and worked me over with her tongue until I was rock hard again, which didn't take long. And then she blew me as only she ever has. When I finally exploded again in her mouth, she swallowed every drop and smiled very big and happy at us.

I had just collapsed on the bed beside her when she noticed Scott stroking his fully hard cock and said, "Looks like a little unfinished business there, Scott. Would you like some help?" 

"I got what I was promised and loved every minute of it," he said. "I won't turn down anything you're both comfortable with, but I'm really OK if you want me to go."

"That stiffy in your hand says otherwise," Wendy said. Turning to me, she whispered in my ear, "Mind if help him out? I'll only use my hands." 

"Not at all," I said. "Go for it. And you can lube him up again if you want."

She did just that. He didn't get the full blowjob treatment, but he got two more good deep strokes of her mouth with lively tongue action on the way up both times, and then she stroked him firm and fast again until he shot his load on his stomach. 

"I'll get you a warm cloth," she said, smiling. Then, looking at me, she said, "Unless you want some more, Col?"

"No thanks," I said. Then to him, "No offense."

"None taken," he said, chuckling. 

Wendy brought him the towel, and he cleaned himself off. As he got dressed and Wendy and I cuddled together still naked on the bed, we found out he was staying in town another 10 days, and I could see the gears turning in Wendy's head. I wondered if she wanted more of what we'd just done, or more of him, and I realized I was OK with it either way as long as I was part of it. He thanked us, wished us a happy holiday, and let himself out.

Pulling the blankets up over us, Wendy sighed contentedly as she nestled her head on my shoulder. "You OK?" she asked. 

"I'm fantastic," I replied. "You?" 

"Me too," she said. "That was amazing. And just think: There are still two days of Christmas left."



The 12 Days of Christmas; Days 11-12



*** Note: This is the fifth and final installment of a story originally submitted for the Winter Holidays 2012 contest. I hope you've enjoyed the series, and I hope you like the conclusion; please take a minute to leave a comment to tell me what you liked or what you didn't. ***



On the 11th day of Christmas, Wendy woke me up by caressing my balls, and she kept up while we talked about the previous evening.

"What did you think of last night, Col?"

"It was fantastic!" I said.

"No regrets?"

"No regrets," I assured her. "You?"

"Not really. I guess maybe a little part of me was hoping you'd be insanely jealous at seeing me go down on somebody else. But that feels like kinda the old me, y'know? That part of me is kinda shocked that I actually did that. But DAMN it was hot, watching you watch me suck him and stroke him. And when you licked his cum off my chest? I thought I was gonna turn inside out, I came so hard."

"If you ever went down on somebody else without me, I WOULD be insanely jealous," I said. 

She slid half-way on top of me. "I would never, never do that," she said sincerely, and kissed me. 

"I know," I said as we slowly moved our hips against each other's sex. "And that's a big part of why last night was such an incredible turn-on for me. Watching you suck him and knowing you were mine? I kinda didn't want you to stop, to be honest."

"Really? You'd be OK with me giving somebody the full treatment?"

"I'm not sure yet if I'd be OK with somebody else coming in your mouth, but short of that, yeah: I'd love to watch you give somebody what you give me."

"I think that could be arranged," she said, smiling impishly. Then she kissed me again and said, "We'd better cut this out, or you'll get today's present early." She started to roll off of me, but I held her tightly.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," I said, smiling back and squeezing her breast.

"Hmmmm," she said. "I do have big plans for you tomorrow night, and an early present would let you rest up a little longer ..."

She slid up and over a little, then slid down, guiding me into her. She rode me while I sucked her breasts, then turned around into a reverse cowgirl and rode me some more while I played with her clit. When she could tell I was getting close, she climbed off and rolled onto her back, pulling me on top of her. The change of position renewed my stamina, and we did it missionary style for a while. When she got close herself, she pulled her knees up to her chest, our favorite position, and I drove into her with long thrusts until we came together. 

After a while, we showered together. I started to get hard again while she was washing my crotch, but she gave me a swat on the butt and said, "Save that for tomorrow night, you insatiable slut!" 

After breakfast, Wendy went to pick up our daughter from her sleepover while I checked some job listings. The three of us went sledding on a hill outside of town just after lunch, then went to a free family movie and played some board games together. It was a very nice day together, and I realized only later that one of the nicest things about it was that I hadn't thought about how different it was for us; things had started getting better less than two weeks ago, but our relationship had improved so much so fast that it already felt normal to have a happy marriage. There were still some important unresolved issues, and we'd need to have some painful conversations in the weeks ahead, but I felt much calmer and more hopeful about those issues, and I hoped it would last.

When we woke the next morning, Wendy said, "You know, today is the 12th day of Christmas."

With an exaggerated sigh, I said, "Yeah, I know."

"Well, I want you to know two things. First of all, my parents are coming over tonight to babysit, and we are going to end this string of presents with some fireworks. And second of all, don't be planning on much rest just because the 12 days of Christmas are over. We might take a day off here and there, but we are going to keep fucking like bunnies for a long time."

"Excellent!" I said, smiling broadly.

"Now go shower and get dressed," she said. "Don't forget we're going bowling this morning."

It was a birthday party for a friend of our daughter's, and the parents weren't actually expected to bowl. We sat and watched our daughter have a blast with her friends, and had a good time talking with the other parents. We all kinda did our own things that afternoon, and Wendy served an early dinner. Her parents arrived just as we finished cleaning up in the kitchen. 

"Ready, Col?" Wendy asked.

"Am I dressed OK?" I asked. I was in chinos and a button-down shirt with an open collar, and I had no idea where we were going.

"You're fine," Wendy said. Then she gave our daughter a hug and kiss. "Have fun with grandma and grandpa!" she said. "We'll see you in the morning."

"OK, mom, I will," our daughter said. I hugged and kissed her, too, even as Wendy was tugging on my sleeve. "Come on, Col, we don't want to be late." To her parents, she said, "Don't wait up."

With Wendy giving me directions, I drove to a town about 50 miles away. My puzzlement grew by the mile, since I didn't think we knew anybody out that way and the town itself didn't have much to recommend it. Wendy directed me into a suburban neighborhood with big homes set far apart, and told me to stop at one that already had 15 or 20 cars parked in front. I found a spot a little ways down the street and parked, and we walked to the door holding hands. She still hadn't given me even a hint of what was happening.

We rang the bell and were greeted warmly by a middle-aged woman who seemed very friendly but unremarkable, except for the fact that she answered the door in a lacy red chemise with a neckline that plunged below her navel and red fishnet stockings. It was a sluttier look than I really like in lingerie, but she had the body for it, and she smiled when she noticed my stunned look. 

Wendy introduced us – first names only, I noticed – and the woman told us her name was Nicky and said, "Oh yes, the new couple. I'm glad you decided to come." To Wendy, she continued, "Have you told him yet?" When Wendy shook her head, Nicky looked at me and said, "We usually insist on talking to both members of a new couple before inviting them, but your wife was very convincing, and we agreed to let her surprise you. Well, surprise! You're at a swinger's club."

I must have looked even more stunned as I turned to Wendy. Even with all the new things we'd tried in the last 11 days, I couldn't have imagined this. Before I could say anything, she said, "Don't get TOO excited. This is about watching and being watched, that's it. Can you live with that?"

I nodded, and Nicky said, "Good. That's the first thing we insist on: Couples have to agree on what's in bounds and what's out of bounds. Just a few other rules, and then I'll give you a quick tour. Rule number one: No means no. Anyone not respecting this rule will be asked to leave immediately. No drugs, no smoking anything anywhere in or around the house. Leave your smartphones and any other cameras in the lockers. Food and drinks only in the kitchen and dining room. Clean up after yourselves, and sit on a towel if you sit on anything other than a bed. And if you happen to meet anyone you know, never mention it except when you're here, and you can trust that they'll do the same." She said all this with a smile and with the practiced air of someone who's given the same speech over and over.

"Most everyone who's coming is already here, but things haven't really heated up yet. Folks are mingling in the great room. Let me give you a quick tour, and then I'll introduce you."

She showed us around the house. The main floor was quite normal; a nice house, well furnished and tastefully decorated, with one very spacious bedroom, which Nicky said was off limits to guests. Upstairs there were three mid-sized bedrooms with king beds; Nicky called these the "private rooms", explaining that people who wanted to swap partners or have same-room sex would close the doors if they wanted privacy or leave them open if they didn't mind an audience, but we weren't to join in unless we were invited. There was also one huge room with the floor almost completely covered by mattresses; this was the "party room." "You can watch in here without joining if you want, but if you get naked in this room, anything goes. You can still say no to people, or to things you don't want to do, and no means no – but you might have to say it, because people will assume you're up for anything in here."

She showed us three bathrooms and said we were welcome to use them for anything, except that water sports were allowed only in the green bathroom. "Don't worry about that, not our thing at all," Wendy said. One corner of my brain registered surprise that Wendy knew what water sports were, and relief that she wasn't interested.

"Well, that's our humble club," Nicky said. "We're thinking about putting a dungeon in the basement – some hooks on the walls and floors for handcuffs, maybe a cage, a sex swing, that sort of thing – but there hasn't been much demand for it from our members, so it's a pretty simple place."

"You have a beautiful home, and it's exactly what I was hoping for for tonight," Wendy said.

"Why don't we head back downstairs and I'll introduce you to ... Oh, here's a couple I want you to meet right now," said Nicky as a couple who looked to be in their mid-30s reached the top of the stairs. "Colin, Wendy, meet Paul and Stacy. They're regulars here, and they love to have an audience." Turning to them, she continued, "Colin and Wendy are virgins, and tonight they just want to watch and maybe be watched."

Handshakes and hellos all around, and Stacy said, "OK, look, I know we just met, but you seem like nice people, and Paul's been out of town this week and I can't wait to jump his bones. If you want to watch, you're more than welcome; we'll be in that first room on the left."

It was an easy call for me; Stacy was very pretty, with shoulder-length brown hair, brown eyes, and dimples in her cheeks when she smiled. Her short skirt showed off her runner's legs, and although her blouse was loose it hinted at the kind of perky, not-too-big breasts I love. I thought Paul had kind of a dumb jock look, and the body to go with it: 6-3 and maybe 220, hair in a buzz cut, no neck – not really Wendy's type. But as soon as they passed us in the hall, Wendy caught my glance and rubbed her eye, a code we used to use to say "Yes" to something without letting anyone else know. 

I said to the backs of Paul and Stacy, "We're right behind you, thanks." Wendy took my hand and we followed them into the first bedroom on the left.

They kissed each other hungrily, like a pair of teenagers who'd finally found some time away from their parents. They broke the kiss long enough for Paul to pull Stacy's blouse over her head, then resumed while he unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Stacy stepped out of it and kicked it aside, then knelt and started working at Paul's belt and pants. Paul took a moment to turn to us and say, "Please forgive us, we do love having an audience but we don't tend to interact with them much. Feel free to move around, get whatever views you want, and if you want to get busy with each other be our guests. Just don't expect a conversation with us, sorry."

By this time, Stacy was pulling his shorts down, and she took him straight into her mouth. He bent over and unhooked her bra, and she shrugged it off, exposing the perfect breasts I'd expected: probably 34B, beautifully round, with pert little nipples sticking straight out. She pulled off of him, but only long enough to push him down to sit on the edge of the bed, giving Wendy and me the first real look at his cock. (Yes, I admit it again, I looked. I dare you to be in my situation and not look.) I guessed it was a little shorter than mine but fatter, at least 2 inches across and maybe a little more. Glancing at Wendy, I saw her eyes were wide. Then the top half of his cock disappeared inside Stacy's mouth again. She didn't go all the way down, and I noticed that the muscles in her throat weren't moving, meaning she wasn't using her tongue much. Still, Paul was obviously enjoying himself.

Wendy crawled up onto the bed and lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows with her head a foot or so away from the action. I lay on my side next to her and propped my head on one hand to watch from about the same angle, caressing her back through her blouse. Stacy looked up at us and smiled with her eyes, pulled off and licked his shaft from balls to tip, then started bobbing up and down on him again. Paul unbuttoned his shirt, and this must've been a signal between them because as soon as he undid the last button, she stopped sucking him, stood up long enough to wriggle out of her panties, and started kissing her way up his chest. When she was up far enough, he held his cock with one hand and she eased down onto him. I thought to myself that he's as lucky as I am, to have a wife who gets wet from sucking him, but she didn't get down very far; she raised back up, rubbed her clit a little, then stuck a finger inside herself and slid it in and out a few times. Then she pulled the finger out and rubbed her lips with it, then eased down onto him again. This time she took him all, and they both moaned.

Wendy climbed over me to move closer to Paul's head for the view she wanted; I got off the bed and knelt a few feet behind Stacy, where I could see his fat cock sliding in and out of her glistening pussy. In just a few minutes, I saw his balls tighten, and he grabbed Stacy's hips and thrust into her harder a few times; then his butt cheeks clenched and he drove in all the way and stayed there, his hips bucking with his orgasm. She kissed him and climbed off, grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the nightstand, scooped up her clothes, and almost shyly excused herself. He wiped himself off with a tissue, put his pants back on, and said, "Thanks for watching. I hope you liked it."

We both thanked him politely as he left, and then turned to each other, speechless for a moment. Finally I said, "Didn't seem like much of a show to me."

"I know, right?" Wendy said. "It started off pretty hot, but then he hardly even touched her, and I don't think she came at all. How can a guy get naked with a woman who looks like that and not do any better than that?"

"I agree. And I don't think her blowjob was very good, either. He seemed to like it, but maybe he's just never had better."

"They seem happy enough together, so I guess we shouldn't judge," Wendy said. "And I saw enough to know I want to see a better show than that. Let's go find one."

The door to the bedroom across the hall was closed; we heard enthusiastic sex going on in there, but we remembered we weren't supposed to open a closed door, so we moved down the hall. There we found two couples naked on the bed beside each other. One man and one woman were half sitting, half lying on some pillows, and the other man and woman were going down on them. They all looked to be about our age, mid-40s; they weren't athletes and they weren't gorgeous, but they took care of themselves and were pleasant looking. The woman who was sitting up saw us, smiled, and beckoned us in. To her partners, she said, "We have company." To us, she said, "Hi! Make yourselves comfortable; we're just getting started."

It was a king bed, and they were close together in the middle. Wendy sat on the bed next to the woman, and I went around to sit on the other side next to the man; this gave us each almost point-of-view on some slow, patient oral sex that obviously was pleasing to both the receivers and the givers. The givers made brief eye contact with each of us, and the man picked his head up long enough to smile and say "Welcome" and then went back to his task. After five minutes or so, the man sitting next to me asked the room in general, "Time to switch?" There were murmurs of assent, and we got off the bed to give them room. Only the men switched places; the two women stayed where they were. I hadn't figured out who was married to whom here, and they didn't seem to care so I decided I didn't either. The oral sex resumed, the same leisurely licking and sucking proving the givers enjoyed giving as much as the receivers enjoyed receiving. "These are my kind of people," I thought. I caught Wendy's eye and could tell she felt the same.

Another five minutes or so, and someone asked again whether it was time to switch. More murmurs of assent, and this time the two women switched places. And about five minutes later, the men switched places again. They had this down to a science: Everybody had given to and received from everybody else of the opposite gender. I found myself wondering what would happen in another five minutes. This time it was more of a rearrangement than a switch. The man who'd been getting his cock sucked stood up over the woman who'd been getting eaten, and she started to suck him. Meanwhile, the woman who had been sucking cock before moved over, got her knees under her hips, and started licking the other woman's clit while the other guy moved behind her to take her doggy style. Then they went through the whole routine again: The men switched places; then the women switched; and then the men switched again. Wendy and I were kind of awestruck; the freedom and openness these two couples shared, and the obvious enjoyment they all found in every arrangement, were incredibly erotic – not to mention my first live view of women going down on each other. "There's one fantasy fulfilled," I said, thinking it was every bit as hot as I'd imagined it would be.

Their next rearrangement had them coupled off, having sex. One couple was in the missionary position, man on top; the other couple did a cowgirl. That woman came first; it wasn't loud or thrashing, but even just watching I could tell it was deep and satisfying. As she came down from the crest, she began rolling her hips on her partner, slowly at first and then faster; soon he grabbed her hips and arched his back, and after a few seconds I could see some of his cum leak out of her slippery pussy and slide down his cock. I can't be sure, but I think she came again just as he finished. The other couple weren't far behind, and timed themselves to come together, clutching each other tightly. They all collapsed in kind of a heap, arms and legs entwined and caressing wherever their hands fell. 

We thanked them for letting us watch and told them how much we enjoyed it. "The best part was seeing how much each of you enjoyed everybody else," Wendy said. One of the women said, "We've been doing this together for a long time, and we all really do love each other. If you're ever lucky enough to find another couple you click with as much as we do, hang on and don't let go."

We thanked them again and left them to recover – or maybe to restart, I didn't know. As soon as we were in the hallway, Wendy pushed me up against the wall, grabbed my crotch through my pants and said, "I've got to have you. Now."

A small part of me realized we hadn't seen the party room in action yet, but one of the other bedroom doors was open and I was not prepared to resist as Wendy tugged me in there. We almost didn't notice the naked couple cuddling on the bed enjoying some afterplay. "Oh, excuse us!" Wendy said when she saw them. 

"Quite all right," the man said. "Carry on, if you like."

We did. We almost tore each other's clothes off, and Wendy pushed me down on the bed and was on top of me in no time. She was dripping wet, and I slid all the way in her quickly; she moaned deeply and held me in for a bit, then began rocking. I'd been turned on for so long I was nearly ready to explode, but she stopped just in time and said, "Oh no, not yet." She quickly moved down and began licking and sucking my balls and my perineum, which she knows drives me wild but won't make me come. After a few minutes she got up off the bed, pulled me over to the edge, and knelt in front of me. "My neck was getting sore," she said apologetically. No apology was needed, especially after she took my cock in her mouth and began licking and sucking and making me feel incredible.




The 12 Days of Christmas; Days 11-12



The man moved from behind me and sat on the bed beside me. "You don't mind?" he said, looking at first me and then her. "Couldn't see much from back there." I looked at Wendy; without stopping the blowjob, she rubbed her eye, so I looked at him and said, "No, we don't mind, it's fine. Find whatever view you like."

Another guy appeared in the doorway; I gave him a head nod to let him know he could come in. He did, and he sat beside me on the other side. He was fully dressed, but it wasn't long before he was rubbing himself through his pants. Wendy stopped sucking me, looked up at him and said, "At least take it out so I can see it." He had his pants and shorts around his ankles in record time, and when he sat up I saw the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life. It must've been 10 inches long, and as fat as the first guy we saw earlier, maybe even a little fatter. Wendy said, "Oh. My. God." very slowly, and stared in amazement for several seconds. Then she stood up and whispered in my ear. "Is it OK with you if I stroke him a little? I want to know what that thing feels like in my hand."

I smiled and nodded, and I kissed her before she knelt back down in front of me. She licked me from almost my ass to the tip of my shaft, watching him stroke himself. Then she looked at him and said, "Can I, um, touch it?"

"Sure!" he said, grinning broadly and moving his hand away. She reached for him and tried to encircle his cock with her right hand; it wouldn't reach all the way around. She moved her hand all the way down to the base, then put her left hand just up the shaft from her right; then she moved her right hand above her left, the way kids do with a baseball bat when they're trying to decide who's going to hit first. Three hands up, and the head of his cock wasn't covered yet. "That's amazing," Wendy breathed. With an effort, she moved her left hand to my thigh and started licking and sucking me again while stroking that giant pole in her right hand.

The guy to my right cleared his throat, and I saw Wendy glance at his face and then his crotch; his cock was hard again. Compared to the other guy's, it looked puny, but then so did mine. Wendy glanced up at me with a questioning look; I smiled and nodded again, and soon her left hand was as busy as her right, though not as full. The sight of her stroking two cocks, the build-up from watching first Paul and Stacy and then the foursome, and the magic ministrations of Wendy's mouth on my cock were finally too much for me, and I grabbed the back of her head and held her tight to me as I erupted in her mouth, shooting stream after stream down her willing throat. One of the best things about Wendy's blowjobs is that she doesn't stop the moment I stop coming; she kept licking and sucking softly and slowly as I softened, and that afterplay was fantastic as always.

After a few minutes of that, she stood up and stripped quickly, throwing her clothes aside with an abandon I'd rarely seen in her. "My turn," she said huskily, and climbed onto my face. "Come here, boys," she said to the other two guys, and they quickly scooted up so their hips were about even with my head. Wendy grabbed both cocks again and stroked them in time with the rocking of her hips on my face as my tongue licked and probed her clit, lips and pussy and my hands roamed over her butt, back and breasts. The wife of the guy on my right took the opportunity to sit on his face, too, facing down his body so she could watch the rest of the action. 

I could feel Wendy building to an orgasm, and as her hips began thrashing faster I grabbed on with both hands so I could keep my face buried between her legs. She grabbed my hair with both hands and ground her pussy into me as her hips bucked, and when I didn't pause my attentions as she crested the first wave, she built quickly to a second one, never letting go of my hair. When her spasms finally subsided, she climbed shakily off my face, bent down and licked and sucked her juices off my lips and chin; then she kissed me fiercely and said, "Fuck me. Hard. Now."

Happily, my cock was hard again; eating her pussy does that to me. I flipped her over, raised her knees to her chest, rubbed the head of my cock from her clit to her hole and back, and then shoved it in all at once, hard and fast. "Ohhhhhh," she said. Then to the guy with the massive cock, she said, "If you've got a condom, put it on. I want to stroke you off." Looking up at the woman still riding the other guy's face, Wendy said, "Him too, if you want." The woman climbed off him, got a condom from the bowl on the nightstand, and put it on him. He knelt on the bed, and she knelt behind him and caressed his balls and butt while Wendy started stroking him again. By this time Massive Cock Man had a condom on, too, and he knelt on the other side. I raised up and put her knees over my shoulders so her arms would have more room; this also gave all of us a better view of all the action, and of Wendy's breasts.

Massive Cock Man was ready first, and when Wendy felt him twitch she devoted all her attention to that giant pole. She stroked him firm and fast from tip to base, and it was amazing how far she had to move her hand to do that. She bit her lip and watched raptly as he filled his condom with his load. The other guy followed shortly after, with his wife cupping his balls as he came. Then she said to Wendy, "Can I rub you in return?"

Wendy looked at me; I nodded, and she said pantingly, "Uh-huh." The woman put her hand on Wendy's knee, then slid it to her inner thigh and down to her sex and rubbed her clit while I continued to thrust into her. "Oh god," Wendy said. "Oh god oh god oh god ..." Her voice trailed off. She threw her head back, arched her back, and shuddered through another powerful orgasm. Her rhythmic clenching took me to the brink again, too, and I grabbed her hips and held her tightly to me as I came inside her. 

I let her legs drop, leaned over and kissed her deeply. Pulling out, I moved down and licked and sucked her breasts gently, then moved down her belly, intending to lick her clean. But the first flick of my tongue on her clit had her pushing my head away and trying to force her thighs together, saying, "Oh no no no, no more." I tried to insist a little, knowing that sometimes her best orgasms come when she thinks she's done, but she held my face and said kindly, "No more, lover, that's enough for now, please." So I crawled back up and kissed her some more, then lay beside her and held her close, letting one hand roam gently over her breasts, arms and stomach.

Massive Cock Man thanked us and said he'd love to watch us again sometime. The couple also thanked us, and the woman said, "Maybe we can all play together sometime?" "Maybe so," said Wendy, smiling wearily. All three of them left. We continued to lay there cuddling and caressing for a few minutes, and soon there were four new faces at the door. A woman said, "The other rooms are closed; do you mind?"

"No, come on in," I said. "We'll get out of your way."

"No rush," one of the men said, smiling. "Stay and watch, or stay and play."

Wendy and I exchanged glances, and she said, "Thanks, maybe next time; I think we've had enough for tonight." We scooped up our clothes and went across the hall to the bathroom, where we cleaned up a little and dressed. Just as she reached for the door, I pushed her against the wall, pinned her wrists above her head and kissed her hard and deep. She melted into my kiss, and we pressed our bodies together and kept kissing until someone opened the door. "Oh sorry, sorry," said a man's voice. "No problem," I said, "we were just leaving."

We got our coats, thanked Nicky and said goodbye, and walked to the car arm in arm. As we pulled away, I said, "So there's going to be a next time?"

Wendy said, "Well, it was a little expensive. I stayed within our gift budget, but maybe we should plan to come again to celebrate your next job. At least, I'd love to come here again. Wouldn't you?"

"Sure," I said. "I'll go anywhere with you."

"You're sweet," she said. "Corny, but sweet." After a pause, she continued: "Thanks for asking for this Christmas present, Colin."

"Thanks for giving it to us!" I said. "And thanks for making it better than I ever imagined."

"This gift is going to keep on giving," she said. "I don't know if I can keep up the same pace, but I have some more ideas for things I want us to try, so don't think we're done just because I skip a night or two now and then."

"Want to share your ideas?"

"Well, for starters, ..."

I was so turned on by the time we got home that I barely let her get to the bedroom before I whisked her clothes off again.




*** If you've enjoyed these stories and would like to read more about Wendy and Colin as they continue to explore new experiences, please vote, and leave a suggestion in the comments for what they should do next. ***