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Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 01

By: PaulUK



As promised, here starts 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Many thanks for all those who asked for this. This story was originally entered for the 2002 Xmas Competition, but didn’t make the top three (booo!) despite all efforts to rig the voting. I think I had the first two days written at the time (before Xmas).

It’s my intention to post the additional chapters every couple of days or so. Chapter Seven is almost complete as I type this. Be warned, it’s already 23,000+ words long.

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.

The Twelve Lays of Xmas

by Crown/PaulUK

It was snowing hard in the streets outside our building when I got back to the apartment late that December afternoon, having struggled through the streets from some late Christmas shopping. My breath hung in front of my face as I took the elevator to the top floor. I was looking forward to being warm. I wondered if Jessica was home and could be tempted into taking a hot bath with me, and suddenly I was warm.

I let myself in, and was assailed by the sound of pealing (and appealing) female laughter from the den. Bath time would have to wait, it appeared - we had company. I tucked the gifts I had bought in the closet in the hall, hung my coat and went to see who was here.

The sight in the den was enough to make any scrooge forget about the cold and the snow and the horrors of crowded department stores. Two of our dearest friends in the building had joined Jessica to make war on the eggnog, and they were in a very good mood. Jessica, who rarely drank, was giggling like a schoolgirl, and cooed happily when she saw me in the doorway.

‘Baby! Come in! We were just talking about you!’

‘Oh, really?’ I laughed, and I found a space on the couch between Jessica and Lisa, who scrunched up their feet, then wriggled them under my thighs as if they were cold. Given that the heating was on, they couldn’t have been cold... but they were clearly in the mood to get hotter.

Jessica was wearing a long dark green sweater... and unless I missed my guess, just a long sweater, pulled halfway down her thighs. It had a deep V at the front to show off her full, rounds tits and cleavage. A small train of Santa’s reindeer ran around the hem, which meant Santa and his sled had to be around the back, checking out her ass. Couldn’t blame the old guy for that.

‘So, what have you three been up to?’ I asked, nonchalantly, passing on the eggnog (vile stuff) and pouring myself a recuperative single malt.

‘Christmas presents,’ gurgled Lisa, and she and Jessica set each other off to laughing again. Lisa lived and worked downstairs - she runs a bar in the basement of the building. This late afternoon was like the middle of the night to her, she naturally kept pretty late hours. Work or play, Lisa always dressed sexily, and right now she was wearing a short black skirt, and a lacy black top that was almost transparent. She was slender and blonde, sexy as hell.

I noticed she had our ice bucket on our lap, only it didn’t hold any ice, just a pile of folded papers - small squares, cut neatly.

‘So, what’s this?’ I asked.

Jessica leaned over against me with her hands on my shoulder and her chin on the backs of her fingers. ‘That, baby,’ she whispered, ‘is the draw for your Xmas present.’ She pressed against me so that my head was filled with the scent of her perfume, and I could feel her soft breasts against my arm. I tilted my head back and kissed her slowly.

‘Oh really?’ I murmured.

‘Yes,’ she sighed into my ear. ‘I spent the morning thinking of all the things that turn you on, and made a list, and now all the girls are drawing to see which ones they will help with.’

I felt my heart stutter, and the sheer sultry promise of Jessica’s voice mad my cock stir. OK, it helped too that she reached down with one hand to give it a little squeeze.

‘I thought that would get your interest,’ she purred.

‘There are a lot of pieces of paper in there,’ I said, my mouth suddenly dry.

‘You have a lot of dirty fantasies,’ Jessica replied. ‘And we have a lot of friends.’

Lisa laughed, a conspiratorial and wicked chuckle. ‘I’ve picked mine, and it’s a good one.’ She stretched out and passed the bucket across the floor to Tasha. ‘Your turn.’

Lisa spends almost as much time in our apartment as I do, and it was no surprise to see her and Jessica having fun, and plotting something outrageous. It was an added delight, however, that they had been joined by Tasha, who rarely gets time off from her job as a legal secretary with a corporate office uptown. I assumed from her clothing that she had come here straight from work - she wore a pencil thin skirt, a soft grey sweater and had tossed her tailored jacket over the back of the armchair. She sat with her feet tucked under her rear in the huge armchair by the bookshelves, her black hair frizzy and framing the warm chocolate colour of her face. She took a sip from her eggnog, placed the cup down, and drew out one of the squares. Her eyes were fixed on mine as she read.

‘Oh yes,’ she sighed. ‘That’s perfect.’

‘What? What?’ I cried, and they all laughed at my impatience.

‘You’ll have to wait, damn man,’ Jessica laughed, slapping my shoulder.

I found myself laughing too, though in my heart I didn’t believe that there was anything written on those pieces of paper other than ‘cufflinks’ or ‘book’. But it was a lovely thought, and it was hard not to feel aroused about the idea, especially with Jessica’s fingers coaxing my erection into stiffness. I watched Tasha, who smiled her dazzling white smile, and slid her hand under her skirt to secrete the paper inside her panties! Lisa hooted with delight and we all four laughed and drank some more.

‘Seriously,’ I said breathily against Jessica’s lips, ‘that is a BIG bucket...’

Well, it was impossible to get much sense out of any of us for a while. We giggled and talked, and Jessica filled me in on this plan of hers, which all the girls had agreed had to be completed during the twelve days of Xmas.

‘Today is the first,’ I reminded her. She giggled, and just said ‘uh huh’.

OK, I think I need to explain a few things at this point. Jessica and I had been lovers for about three years, and I can’t begin to tell you what a rollercoaster it had been. We had lived together this last year, in a converted warehouse building she had invested in, and gradually taken over. Friends and lovers had been invited to take some of the other spaces, including Lisa - a friend of Jessica’s from way back - and Tasha, who had taken one of the apartments. I started thinking about who else lived in the building, and just how far this latest plan my beautiful lover had concocted had spread.

I was indulging in a little conspiracy myself. I had arranged for a friend I knew who had a small film company (shooting commercials) to take some footage of all Jessica’s favourite women, many of who now shared our building, and then I had compiled the ultimate screensaver for her, along with some high gloss art prints, which I had a sneaky feeling might end up lining the entrance vestibule, if I knew my Jessica!

That’s what so few people - guys - understand about Jessica. She is one of the most sensual, sexual and desirable women on the planet, and men and women flock around her all the time. But she had a few dark moments in her past, and she didn’t feel comfortable having sexual relationships with men any more - well, with any other man than me. What can I say... it worked out that way.

My current line of work, another Jessica inspired project, takes me away from the city regularly, and when I am gone, Jessica spends time with her many girlfriends. Her ‘harem’, as we call it. And even when I am home, the girls are around all the time. It’s our space, our life, and I never have to worry about my lover’s security and happiness.

And yeah, I know, I do all right out of the deal too.

‘So who else is in on this plan of yours?’ I asked, shifting in the seat as Jessica’s fingers continued to work at my cock. She didn’t answer at first. My eyes flickered across first to Tasha, then I turned to face Lisa. Neither seemed at all embarrassed that my lover was stroking me quite flagrantly in front of them.

‘Julianna stopped by earlier, and I spoke to Orla and Charity on the phone, and they had me draw for them. Trish, Elizabeth, Laine... Katherine and Laurie...’

I laughed as she reeled off this list of almost every attractive woman we knew, believing I was sharing the joke now. This was pretty much the same line-up as I had arranged for Jessica’s Harem Film, and I assumed the secret was out.

‘Now I know you are bluffing,’ I grinned leaning in to kiss Jessica’s mouth. Katherine and Laurie? They were two lovely women who lived together across the street, having not yet been snared into Jessica’s building. Katherine, for certain, was 100% women only.

‘We’ll see,’ Jessica chimed, happily, and her nimble fingers worked the zipper down on my pants.

‘My cue to leave,’ said Tasha, which only added to my certainty that Jessica was teasing me. Tasha placed the bucket on a shelf behind her. ‘Plans to be made, la-la! Will you walk me out, Lisa? You might be able to help.’

‘Sure will,’ said Lisa, sliding gracefully from the end of the couch. They both kissed Jessica, and then me, and left the room. I heard their heels clicking on the wooden floor of our living room, and the opening and closing of the door.

Jessica, meanwhile had me lean back at the end of the couch, her hands deftly extricating my cock from inside my boxers, and I moaned loudly as her small, warm mouth closed on the head of my cock. She pressed the flat of her tongue on the underside, wrapped it around the glans, nibbled and sucked as I grew. I sank back on the seat, felt her pressing her mouth down on me, and as I became fully erect my wicked lover came up onto her hands and knees, hovering over me, and throated my cock deeply. It was hard to resist, and my hips pushed up to meet her, and I felt myself tense, and my balls twitch. Moments later I was gushing in her soft mouth, feeling her suckle and clean me with her tongue, drinking down my semen with even more relish than she had hit the egg nog.

‘Nice,’ came a voice from the doorway as Jessica was nuzzling in my pubic hair, licking and kissing and catching every drop. ‘I’ll be back for you two later. Meantime...’ She reached across and took the ice bucket. ‘I’ll make a few calls for you, Jessica. Bye, lovers!!!’

*****

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

I cooked dinner, while Jessica busied herself decorating the tree in the living room. Its lights winked out through the huge bay window that overlooked the street, catching on the drifting snow flakes of that first heavy fall of winter out in the dark night beyond.

Lisa reappeared sometime around eight. She and Jessica kissed in the doorway, touching lightly at each other’s hair, whispering, communicating something at some profoundly intimate level that a mere male would never understand. Then she breezed in and turned off the TV where I had been catching up on the news.

‘Get your coat,’ she demanded, ‘we’re going out.’

Jessica had changed into a short plum-coloured skirt, with dark boots and the silk top I bought her for her birthday. She pulled on a hooded coat, drew the hoot up and pressed her dyed red hair back inside, before fastening a scarf about her neck. Lisa was wearing a brown leather coat that made her look like a dominatrix dressed for the Winter Olympics. I flicked some snow off her shoulders and the blonde hair that reached down there.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘Out,’ she repeated. ‘Put something warm on.’

We left the building and turned down the sweeping avenue towards the bars of the Art Centre and the galleries Jessica loved so much. I made a mental note to ask about what it would cost to have a painting of her commissioned - and would nude photographs be enough for the artist to work from?

The girls linked arms with me on either side and we strode off, our footsteps muffled by snow underfoot, the streets relatively quiet. I was a little surprised when we turned off the main street and entered the park, but this was the short way to some of the clubs Lisa liked to hang out in - when she wasn’t prowling the floor of her own place in the basement of our building. Which reminded me.

‘Who’s watching the club tonight?’

‘Tasha said she would open up, but I’ll have to be there by eleven to take over.’

‘That was good of her.’

‘All part of the plan,’ Lisa insisted, with a wry smirk, her voice offhand and casual, but something in her face suggesting that a great deal of planning had taken place. ‘The things we go through for you and Jessica.’

Jessica had been quiet for most of the walk, almost huddled in her woollen coat. I would have thought there was something troubling her, except when she looked at me there was a light in her eyes, and her hand stroked at mine as we walked, as if she was restless and impatient, even aroused. She pressed close to my arm as we passed a few early partygoers and others heading in the opposite direction to us, perhaps making for the theatre. I was about to ask Jessica what was on her mind, when she and Lisa turned as one and led us off the path into a small stand of trees.

‘Will this do?’ Lisa asked. I felt Jessica’s hand slip from mine; she was hanging back, standing on the margins of the path, looking left and right as the voices of the passers-by faded. Snow fell onto her lashes. Her eyes were gleaming.

‘Perfect,’ she whispered. A smile of pure bliss lit up her face. She gestured with a nod of her head that I should face round. I turned my head slowly, feeling a little confused. That was nothing compared to how I felt a moment later.

Lisa was leaning back against the broad trunk of an old elm, almost in shadow save for slatted beams of light from a lantern back along the path that was filtered through the branches above her head. Her head was tossed back defiantly against the tree, her cool blue eyes fixed on me. Her gloved hands had drawn open the leather coat. She was completely naked underneath.

I say completely naked, but of course she was still wearing her heeled boots and, I noted warm woollen stockings that came up to her knees. That was all she had under the coat, however, and judging by the way her nipples were standing out like pink beads, she was already feeling the chill of the night.

‘Come and warm me, Paul,’ she moaned, her voice sounding just a little husky.

I stepped into her embrace, and she wrapped the floor-length coat about us both as I came against her naked flesh. We kissed heartily, breath clouding around our faces. She moaned as my hands closed on her breasts, moved one leg against mine, her delicate foot stroking at the back of my calf. Nimble hands went down to my pants and fumbled with my fly.

‘Quickly, baby,’ she moaned, though whether because she was freezing her pretty ass off or in desperate need, it was hard to say.

I felt her warm wool-covered fingers close around my cock, guiding me to her. I was vaguely aware of the cold winter air on my back, under the hair at the back of my neck, on my cheeks, but not at all on my penis as she guided me straight to the heart and core of her body, stretching up on her toes and lifting her pussy onto my penis. I went up inside her quickly, marvelling at how wet she was, and just how warm her pussy was.

‘Oh God,’ she moaned. ‘Fuck me and warm me.’

I gathered her up in my arms, using the tree as support, and fucked my cock deeply inside her as she wrapped her legs around my waist. The coat fell open, and her naked body was more and more exposed. I tried to cover her skin as best I could, but I knew cold air was kissing more of her flesh than ever I could. She moaned again, even more deeply than before. This time I knew she was deeply aroused, filled with a fierce hunger, but I also knew she was feeling the ache in her bones, the sharp nip of winter’s teeth on her skin.

I pounded her harder, faster, my penis deep within her, my body wrapped in hers, blanketed by her even though she was the one naked. I felt my opened trousers sag a little; a touch of cool air at the base of my spine.

‘Oh fuck,’ sobbed Lisa. ‘Oh fuck, just there, baby... don’t stop. Oh fuck yes... fuck me hard... oh fuck, come on, warm me baby... warm me with your cum.’

I slammed hard into her, hard enough, I swear, to shake loose snow off the branches overhead. Lisa was crying out, orgasming graphically. Unlike earlier, her voice now sounded shrill in the cold air, echoing off distant surfaces in the dark park. I heard Jessica step up behind us.

‘Someone’s coming,’ she whispered into my ear, and I knew she didn’t just mean Lisa. I felt her soft hand sneak under my coat, cradling my balls in warmth, and my lover leaning on my back, her own cloaked body shielding our fucking from view. I heard footsteps briefly, but I didn’t turn to look. Instead, driving into Lisa faster, our hips grinding together, I shot a long stream of semen into her pussy. She bit my neck and shoulder as she orgasmed.

*****

‘That was fun,’ I whispered in bed later, with candlelight playing on the walls, and Jessica lying along my body under the covers, idly toying with my chest hairs, and with the small square of paper which she had laid on my breast. In her neat hand, the words ‘fucking outdoors (in the country)’ lay in two lines on the paper.

Jessica was purring. I could actually feel her mouth curl in a smile as we lay in the dark, aware of the candles spitting and crackling, the distant sound of music from Lisa’s bar, movement in the street outside. We had just made love, slow, close and so greedy for each other. I could feel the moistness from her pussy on my leg as she stroked her body up and down against me.

‘Is that a kink of mine?’ I asked, taking the square of paper again, and reading it. ‘Outdoor sex? The fear of getting caught?’

‘Not especially,’ Jessica sighed lazily, kissing my nipples. ‘But just because this is your Christmas present, it doesn’t mean it all has to be about you.’

We laughed together, and even though I tickled her, and then licked her clit and anus until she was screaming in the night, she still wouldn’t tell me who else was going to be spending the twelve nights of Christmas with us, or how. I was just going to have to wait.

Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 02



Part Two of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Chapter Eight is flying along as I type this. Be warned, the whole thing is already 27,000? words long, though this is a short chapter.

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.


The Twelve Lays of Xmas:  Two Turtle Doves

The following day was a long one, and to be honest I got a little distracted from Jessica's present. One of my clients was being difficult about a project that was supposed to have started on December 1st, and threatened now to make me work over Xmas. Luckily, there were subcontractors involved, and I was pretty much able to tell him that wasn't going to happen.

Then he wanted to be taken out to lunch, which I did. Then I had to go to pick up the CD Rom of the pics for Jessica, which wasn't ready. The prints looked great though, and they were going to make an impressive series of posters. I imagined again them lining the entrance vestibule to Jessica's building, and wondered what visitors would make of them.

One of the most impressive pictures was of Laurie, one of the two lesbian girls who lived across the street. Jessica had the hots for Laurie, but had never made a move on her, because her partner - Katherine - wasn't really part of our little group. Work took her away all the time, and she was really a one-on-one, relationship sort of girl. There was, noticeably, no picture of Katherine in the portfolio.

The one of Laurie was quite decent too... teasing, provocative, but not really showing anything too much. She was looking back over her shoulder, one hand and arm discretely shielding the side of her breast, and a convenient plant leaf hiding most of her pert ass. Still, it showed her stunning, dark, Mediterranean good looks, and that would make my lady purr.

Jessica was on the phone when I arrived, sitting on the couch looking out over the street through the bay window. She leaned back and I kissed her mouth. Lisa strolled in from the kitchen.

'Do I get one of those?'

'Seems fair,' I asked, and we kissed deeply. I had been about to comment on how much time she was spending here, but that seemed more than churlish after the park last night. Instead I asked her - jokingly - how the 12 days project was going.

'Finishing touches to Day Two,' she said, matter-of-factly. 'We're running late.'

I laughed, and went to get a beer. Dinner was on the stove, the apartment was warm and bright with Christmas cheer. Life was good.

'Did you get the CD-Rom?' Lisa was in on my plan too, of course. The pictures we had shot of her were a lot more explicit than the ones of Laurie. I was almost ready to demand a refund from the photographer, who I was sure had been well-paid several times over.

'No, there's a delay. Two more days.'

'Might be worth the wait. Could be that we get one more set of pictures to go on.'

She turned and left before explaining, which was a typical Lisa tease. I watched TV, checked email, then the three of us ate dinner before Lisa left to open the club for the evening. Jessica kept wandering over to the window as if she was waiting for a delivery. The night moved on, closer and closer to the end of the second day.

I was researching some info on the web when Jessica padded up to me and took my hand, drawing me away from the Mac. I noticed she had moved furniture around, placing an armchair in the bay, looking out over the city. The lights were dimmed, and there was a bottle of wine in the cooler at the side of the chair.

'What's this?'

'Sit,' she insisted, and she snuggled down onto my lap as I took my place.

Our apartment sits quite high above the street, and the lamps that lit it were a soft glow below, barely lighting the night sky. Opposite, the building where Katherine and Laurie live - one floor down from our level - was a dark shadow. Brick-built, austere and slightly smaller than ours, it is not a great place to live in, by all accounts, and Jessica was on at the girls to take one of the vacant apartments on the second floor here - a much better space at a comparable rent. Their current place was lit by huge, tall north-facing windows with a view mostly of our building, and that made their apartment cold as hell in winter. I looked down their place now. And what was when I realised what we were doing here,

There was a bright glow from their window, the light from an uncountable array of candles that must have filled the room. A table had been pushed back almost to the glass, and on that table, I could see Laurie, performing a slow, grinding striptease.

'Hell,' I said, and: 'Look!'

'Ssssh,' said Jessica.

The longer we watched, the more I was able to make sense of the scene. Laurie was dancing on the table - those spiked heels were going to leave some marks. She was already down to her lingerie; filmy dark blue satin, with matching stockings. And now I could see the recipient of this prize - Katherine was seated at the table, like she was by the runway at a pole dance club, staring up at Laurie's provocative show. She seemed mesmerised by Laurie's swaying hips, moving her head from side to side, though it was hard to see her expression.

'We need binoculars.'

'Ssssh.'

'I at least need my glasses.'

'Here,' said Jessica, squirming in my lap as she turned to fetch them. 'Now be quiet.'

'Can they hear us?'

'SSSH!'

Laurie reached behind her, and unfastened her bra, allowing her soft, tanned, round breasts to spill out. She performed a long slow turn, then stretched out her hand and drew Katherine up onto the table with her. The two lovers entwined, vines twisting and turning on each other, limbs caressing. They kissed deeply.

Jessica lifted her skirt as she sat against me, and together we stroked her soft pussy lips with our fingers, hers and mine, as closely entwined as the lovers across the street. Jessica shuddered in just seconds, powerfully aroused.

The table dance continued, with Laurie drawing off Katherine's shirt and slacks, leaving the paler girl in white bra and panties. Their hands moved over each other's skin, teasing and caressing. Their kisses were languid, but still sensual, deep and passionate, as if they were merely testing their lust for each other.

Laurie stepped down from the table, and now it was Katherine's turn to dance for her. She looked amazing. Of course, she was completely out of my reach; a good friend - a good friend - but she would never so much as look at a man. She was in love, and every movement as she danced on the table showed it. She flaunted her ass and firm small tits at Laurie, who was just out of sight behind a pillar between the windows.

There was a sudden increase of light in the room over there, a flash. It took me a moment to realise what it was. Laurie was taking pictures of Katherine. I saw Kate's face explode in a laugh we could not hear, watched her wriggle her breasts free from the bra, and play peek-a-boo with her ass. Then she kicked her panties away, and ran her fingers slowly over her shaved mound, pushing her hips towards Laurie. There was another flash.

Laurie reappeared, and the two lovers embraced on their knees on the table, slowly sinking onto the surface, wrapped around each other, head to toe, kissing and licking at each other. Laurie, on top, buried her head down between Katherine's thighs, and I watched Kate's head cum up as if she had felt an electric shock. Her mouth opened wide - soundless from this distance, but her pleasure clear as a bell.

Jessica and I watched until they finished, by which time Jess had come twice and we were both soaked in her juices. We went to the shower, and I licked her clean before we stood under the spray and made love against the tiled wall of the stall. She came so hard I thought she was going to tear the bathroom down with her fingernails and break windows with her screams.

'So, what kink was that' Watching lesbians?' We were lying in bed, some time after midnight, wrapped up in each other and the silence.

'Secret voyeur, I think,' she replied, her hand on my chest, her voice sleepy. 'But don't worry, there were a lot of lesbian cards.'

'You know me so well,' I chuckled, and I heard my lover murmur happily something about how this was all for me, and then she fell asleep. I lay there grinning for quite a while feeling her slow breathing against me, before I slowly drifted off as well. 




Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 03



Part Three of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Chapter Nine is up and running. Be warned, the whole thing is almost 30,000? words long this far.

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.

Three French Hens

I overslept. It was almost 9am before I was really awake, and the apartment was dark and quiet. Yawning, I showered, had breakfast, made a few calls, answered a few emails... well, truth is, I pretty much wasted the morning away before I even found Jessica's note.

'Shit...' I read it again, and I knew I hadn't got it wrong the first time. We had multiple visitors to organise for the weekend, starting with a close friend arriving from Ireland. In an hour. Oh, and some people to interview about jobs. Jessica's note spelled it all out to me.

Part of the Jessica plan to take over the universe was that she had invested in this specialised personal services company, which handled everything from cleaning to personal shopping. Everyone in the building had access to this stuff at a really low rate, and I quickly grabbed the phone and called one of the numbers now, which put me through to a limousine/car hire service.

Brad, the guy who looked after the business, talked to me in that slightly superior way of someone who knew I had forgotten to call much earlier. Brad and I didn't get on, but he let Jessica bully him, so he was the perfect guy to handle her account.

Jessica had wanted him to take on a female driver she could have first call on, who would effectively be available to Jessica at all times. Brad smugly told me that three prospects had been available at 11am, but two had left. I didn't bother pointing out to him that he could have called me to remind me. A minute spent in Brad's company is a minute wasted.

'So who's the one left?'

'A blonde girl with big tits,' he remarked. Well, thank you for the resumé, Brad.

'Send her over. I need to collect someone at the airport. I'll interview her on the way, assuming she doesn't get lost.'

He started to whine at me about which cars were available, and insurance, and I told him this was all supposed to be agreed, and hung up, knowing Jessica would rip him a new one once she got home. Where was she anyway'

I threw on some clothes, scared the hell of the cat by slamming the window closed just as she was thinking of coming in (Minx is the only pussy in the building who outranks Jess; there would be complaints from her later), grabbed my keys and went out the door. Down in the vestibule, I kept an eye through the main doors for the silver Saab I had dragged out of Brad. That was when I saw a cute redhead at the door, reading an address from an envelope, with what looked like a dry-cleaning bag over her arm. I didn't recognise her at first, but when I opened the door and asked her if she was OK, it turned out to be Jessica's friend Cat.

Cat and Jessica work together on various projects, most of which I don't ask about. She's a smart one, is Cat, and great at managing people. She is also adorably cute, and today she looked better than ever. Slinky ankle length boots, jeans that fit so snugly I could be 90% sure she had no panties on, and a tight red sweater under a leather jacket.

'Hey, Paul. Where are you going' Aren't I supposed to be helping you?'

'You are' With what?'

'The job interview. For the maid.' Oh, shit... just how many interviews had I forgotten to do. And a maid' Since when had we talked about hiring a maid' Then I laughed to myself; Jessica was having way too much fun with this Twelve Days plan... she knew I had a thing for the whole French Maid look. My girl is just too perfect.

The Saab arrived at that moment. A rather tall blonde woman was at the wheel (I couldn't see her tits, but she parked the car just fine, which was a good sign), and I waved.

'Cat, you'll have to handle it,' I told her.'I have to pick Orla up from the airport and interview this driver.'

'A little late if she has her hands on your car, don't you think?'

'Don't ask. Look, here's the key. Let yourself in, and I'll go with whatever you decide for the maid.'

'OK,' said Cat, taking charge of the situation as I knew she would. She took a look at the blonde woman behind the wheel of the car. I checked my watch, and I knew I had to go. Kissing Cat gratefully and modestly on the cheek, I crossed the pavement. The driver stepped from the Saab and moved to open the rear door. I was delighted to see that Brad had not lied at all about the nice tits, but he had completely forgotten to mention that the woman was tall and had great legs, toned and tanned, which showed very pleasantly under the hem of a mid thigh skirt, part of a uniform which only Jessica could have selected - almost traditional, but sexy as hell. The skirt had slid up her strong, shapely stockinged legs as she slid gracefully from the driver's seat. I hadn't realised we had a dress code for staff, but this was good.

She opened the Saab's rear door as we exchanged hellos. She introduced herself as Tizianna, showing had an accent which I immediately placed as being Italian. Having confirmed with Tizianna that she was free to handle this impromptu job, and that she knew where the airport was (the kind of thing that had foxed one of Brad's drivers before), I jumped into the back seat.

The interview went fine. That is, I think I passed. Tizianna turned out to be a recent arrival from Italy, who was an excellent driver with superb references. She had been recommended to us by Cat, who had met Tizianna at a party. She understood that she would be working for Brad, but that her prime client would be Jessica, who would require her to be available at short notice and for all kinds of tasks. She was happy with the pay and the arrangements, and when I told her it included a room in the ground floor of the building, she was even happier - apparently her current living arrangements were both expensive and unhappy. I didn't ask. She blushed just a little when I asked if she liked the uniform too.

I liked her, and I knew Jessica would be happy having her around. She was a safe driver and a pleasant personality; she had the job before we passed the third set of lights. She was easy on the eye too; though her eyes were hidden behind aviator glasses as she drove, when she removed them as we shook hands, I was struck by her startling blue-green eyes. I was even more impressed by the way that short black skirt rode up each time she swung in and out of the car. Strong, tanned legs in silk stockings. I may have mentioned them already. Trust me, they were great legs.

We chatted comfortably as Tiz ('call me Tiz, it's much easier') brought us into the airport and found the short-stay car park. The two of us went off in search of Orla, a close friend of Jessica and I, who was flying in for a shopping trip from her native Ireland. Well, that is what I had believed before, but now I knew about the Twelve Days, it was hard to believe Orla hadn't volunteered for at least six of them. We found her at Arrivals, and Tiz collected her bags while Orla and I hugged enthusiastically, and I gave her ass a grope that woke up airport security and the sleepy businessmen from her flight.

We walked back to the car, Orla and I arm in arm behind the new driver. Tiz had a graceful glide in her walk that was pure sex; great legs and a firm ass. She had to work out between driving gigs. Orla was virtually licking her lips as we walked to the car.

'Who is she?' hissed Orla, giggling wildly.

'A new driver at that agency Jess uses,' I replied.'I am assuming that she is supposed to be a French Hen or something, you know...' I hummed a few bars of the Christmas song.

'Is that today?' asked Orla, flirting outrageously. She knew; she and Jessica had clearly talked in great detail on the phone about the theme of the next ten days.

'What did you draw?' I asked. Orla almost shrieked with laughter.'Foursome!' she said, so loud that security almost called her back for an intimate body search.'That's why I asked who she was. You think Jess hired her knowing she would be perfect for your present?'

I had had my suspicions, and Orla only made them stronger in my mind.

'I assumed foursome meant you, me, Jessica and Lisa,' Orla said.'After all, if it is a present for you, it could hardly include another guy!'

'Not unless I can take him back to the store and exchange him for a nice sweater,' I grinned.

Orla purred, her eyes on Tiz's ass every step of the way. It made perfect sense for Orla to have chosen Foursome as her card (or for Jessica to have chosen it for her... perhaps this was not an entirely random choice). When we had met her the year before, she had been mildly bi-curious. She, Jessica and I had romped together a few times, and Orla had developed a powerful appetite for sapphic sex, but one that she had never really indulged away from Jessica. A tryst such as that suggested by her card - which Jessica had'randomly drawn' for her, would make quite the Xmas gift for Orla too. That woman of mine thought of everything.

Orla spoke to Tiz as I loaded her luggage into the car. It was a brief, but seemingly intimate conversation, as Orla brushed back a strand of Tiz's blonde hair, and complimented her on her uniform. Tiz blushed. I wondered again if she was in on the project. I couldn't think of any kink of mine that involved a chauffeur... I'm not really a car person. Uniforms do it for me, though.

'Where to now?' she asked.

'Back to the building,' I informed her.'Are you in any hurry, this afternoon, by the way?'

'I'm yours any way you want me,' she replied, in her low, husky, accented voice.

'I think Orla needs a bed, after her long flight,' I suggested.

Tiz licked her lips.'Then that is where we should take her, she replied.

*****

The traffic was a little heavier as we came back into the city. Tiz concentrated on the road. I concentrated on her for a while, having climbed into the front seat to watch her work. The Saab had a stick shift, and it was really quite erotic to watch her work the pedals. Her skirt inched a little higher. Though she rarely even so much as glanced my way, Tiz didn't seem at all uncomfortable with me running my eyes up and down her legs.

In the back seat, things were also getting quite promising. Orla pulled off her coat to reveal a short little mini-dress, worn over black socks to mid-thigh. She lay back in the comfortable seat, sighing contentedly, chattering brightly. This trip had been a long time in the planning; she was clearly happy to be here. Very happy. She stretched out and the skirt rode up to show Orla was wearing tiny black panties. She met my frank glance with a look of pure wickedness, and ran her hands up her body to cup her breasts.

'Sex and shopping,' she murmured.'My kind of holiday.'

There was a blast of a car horn from beside us, where a young guy in bright red overalls was pretty much keeping pace with us in a van. His eyes were not on the road. From his elevated position, he must have been able to see almost as far up Orla's skirt as I could.

Orla had spent too long cooped in an aircraft to be distracted by the proximity of the van, or to be too distracted by the loud hooting - not all of it from the van's equipment. Wrinkling her nose slightly at the crude chorus of the van driver's opinions and encouragement, she pushed up her sweater with one hand, revealing that she wore just a thin, black, singlet vest underneath. Her nipples were standing out through the vest; Orla cupped her breasts in one hand, while the other worked down under the material of her panties.

The Saab slowed; traffic was building up near the bridge across the river. We were close to the building now, just a mile or so, but I knew from experience that this was often the slowest part of the journey home from this side of town. I put my hand on Tiz's thigh and stroked her firm muscled leg. She smiled, let her skirt ride back, and watched Orla squirming on the back seat through the driver's mirror.

'Your friend is very aroused,' she commented, stating the obvious (but so charmingly, who cared'). Orla was wiggling her behind on the Saab's leather seat, pushing her left hand under the hem of the vest while she continued to stroke at her pussy under her panties. The van driver hooted the horn a few times - but there was no way he was urging the traffic to move. Orla seemed able to both ignore him and entertain him. You could have asked a thousand witnesses if she was actually turned on by him watching, and I'm pretty sure less than a hundred would have though it likely.

Orla squeezed her breasts and worked her fingers further into her body. Her eyes were fluttering all the time, barely open, then tight closed. A small moan escaped her lips. Leaning across the front seat, I touched Tiz through her panties... silky, white briefs, edged with lace. She was extremely wet.

'What are you thinking?' I asked, in a quiet calm voice that really was just a mask of my own enjoyment. Tizianna's face had remained impassive, calm, professionally focussed on her job, all along.

'I was wondering... if I should say... that I have never been with a woman before, much less in a threesome... I mean foursome.' She laughed, a little nervously, though whether because she was struggling just a little to get the language perfect, or because of her arousal, I wasn't sure.'I knew, somehow, that this Christmas, with this new job, that this would change.'

I stroked her mound lightly through her panties, and she shivered.'Don't make me cum now. I want to relax and enjoy it all.'

In the back seat, Orla was not big on patience. She was pinching her nipples, and riding her clit on her own fingers, pushing her legs open wide and humping her hips up and down. There was another plaintive toot on the van horn. The traffic was slipping forward again, and our lane faster than his.

'You better tell your friend to calm down,' whispered Tizianna.

I looked back the front seat. Orla seemed happy enough in her own world, but Tiz wasn't just thinking about that.

'There's a cop car ahead of us.'

*****

We were still laughing about that after Tiz parked the Saab in the underground garage and we manhandled Orla's luggage up to the spare bedroom in the apartment I shared with Jessica. Orla bounced on the bed, laughing, her eyes alight with mischief.'I made it!' she sang.

This visit had been talked about for a long time. The three of us - Orla, Jessica and I - had met in London the year before, and that had been an amazing week of fun. It had taken this long to bring her over to us. Orla was one of the people who thought most like Jessica about how to live life... Jessica was particularly looking forward to Orla and Lisa meeting.

That would have to wait. For now, I went to make coffee while Tiz offered to help Orla unpack. The crazy Irish wench had brought three enormous cases, and from what I saw the first one contained nothing but lingerie. It was women like Orla who had convinced me I needed to buy a lot of stock in Victoria's Secret.

I took a caffetiere back to the guest bedroom, foolishly thinking that Orla would need refreshment after her long flight and the noisy orgasm she had enjoyed in the back of the Saab. Instead, Orla was wide awake, and parading round in just the silky black singlet and the long socks, managing to combine unpacking with a lingerie show as she held underwear against her body and showed off to Tiz.

'You should try these on,' she sang.'Or these! Oh! This La Perla set would look so good on you.'

If it involved a lot of taking off and putting on, I was all in favour of the chauffeur's time being spent that way. Needless to say, someone had to spoil things. Brad called, asking if we were happy with Tiz, and should he add her to the roster, and going over all the details of how Jessica would have first call on her services, day and night, as if this hadn't been ironed out a thousand times.

'If you're done with her now, could you send her back?' he said at last.'There are a lot of theatre bookings tonight.'

'Sorry, Brad,' I said.'I think she's busy.'

That was a little bit of a lie, but it was fair to say that Tiz wasn't going anywhere at the moment. Orla had persuaded her out of her uniform, and into a dynamic scarlet basque and stockings set, that made her legs appear even longer and pushed her ample tits up into quite a show. I cursed Brad for having dragged me away.

'Are we going to play now?' Orla asked, impatiently.

'Your card says foursome, Orla,' I reminded her. She pouted.

'I'll have to draw more cards,' she said.

I was tempted to find the ice bucket for her, only I knew it was well hidden. So, instead, Orla went to shower, while I explained the whole Xmas present thing to Tiz, whose eyebrows arched higher and higher at the tale, as she learned to appreciate her new employer much more.

We were sitting on the end of the bed, me still in my street clothes (minus the coat) and Tiz in the borrowed red underwear. We were in an unconscious parody of how we had been sitting in the car - she on the left, me close at her side. Once more my hand strayed to her thigh. I felt her muscles tense, and her body tremble.

'I have not drawn a card.'

'Would you like to?'

'Very much. But Orla will let me share hers, I think.'

'And you'd like to experience a woman for the first time.'

'Yes,' she sighed.'Oh, and this will be two women... and you...'

In the adjoining bathroom, Orla was singing in the shower. At least it started off as singing, but soon that Irish lilt was performing a different song, as Orla's voice betrayed her rush towards another orgasm. The pleading, anxious, edgy sound to her voice filled the room. I lifted my hand to Tiz's pussy and stroked her. She was bare under the basque.

'I am so wet,' she sighed, leaning back a little. And indeed she was. I ran my fingers inside her labia, feeling soft skin. She drew her feet back up to the bed, and I touched her lightly across her clit, watching her eyes flicker and her tongue run around her lips. She twitched her pussy against my fingers, throwing her thighs wide and panting with pleasure. I heard the shower stop, and moments later Orla stepped back into the room.

There was no point even mentioning that this still wasn't a foursome. Orla leaned Tiz back on the bed, and kissed her mouth, wet hair draping over her face, bare breasts stroking over the basque. Tiz gasped into her mouth, flexed her hips against my fingers. She kissed Orla feverishly, pulling the Irish girl down against her body, stroking at the backs of her shoulders and her hair. I felt her pussy gush around my fingers.

I released her body, and she and Orla rolled against each other, kissing and tonguing each other's mouths deeply. They stroked and petted, peeling back the straps of the lingerie, baring their breasts, rubbing impatiently against each other. I stood back and watched; the two women were lost in each other.

I must have been a little lost too. The first I knew that Jessica was there was when I felt her hand on my shoulder and her light kiss on my cheek.

'Hey, baby, what is going on here?'

*****

There were squeals, and laughter and more squeals. Orla kissed Jessica, Jessica kissed Orla; Jessica shook Tiz's hand and kissed her cheek, saying she was happy that she had taken the job. Orla kissed Lisa. Lisa stood in the doorway and smirked.

'Is this what you get up to when you're alone here every day?' she mocked.

'Not every day,' I replied.'We don't always have house guests.'

'I'll have to stop by more often,' she grinned. Like that was possible.

Jessica came over to me and kissed me again, grinning widely, eyes sparkling. I knew that look. She knew something I didn't. I see that look almost every day.




Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 03



'The driver?' she laughed quietly, pressing her lips against my ear.'On her first day?'

The realisation hit me slowly.'She's not in on your plan at all, is she?'

'Well, she wasn't, but seeing as she and Orla are getting on so well...'

We kissed, lingering against each other's mouth as I lifted Jessica up against me, my arms wrapped around her. She and Lisa had been shopping it appeared, judging by the bags now scattered on the floor. More lingerie' Buy that stock, Paul!

Lisa and Orla, who had heard so much about each other, were getting acquainted on the bed. Lisa discarded her top coat and complemented Orla on her (dishevelled) underwear. Tiz, looking just a little overwhelmed, sat defensively on the bed, her arms crossed over her breasts. Jessica went over to talk to her, and make her feel more at ease. I - can you believe this - got sent to make more coffee.

It took a little time, since I had to wash up the last batch. When I returned, things had settled down nicely once more, and I was minded to congratulate myself, since it was me who had found the giant bed that dominated the guest bedroom... there was plenty of room for four virtually naked women to play comfortably... and room for one guy, if it was Christmas.

Lisa and Orla were in a sixty-nine, Lisa on top. Orla's black undies had been discarded and Lisa was down to her skirt and panties, the one pushed up, the other pulled aside. They were licking at each other greedily, murmuring into each other's bodies. The soft wet sounds were almost unbearably arousing.

Right beside them, Jessica was laying against the driver, her mouth pressed to the girl's pussy, teasing her clit with little kitten-licks. Tiz was squirming on the bed, head tossing from side to side, cupping and mauling her own breasts as she gave her body over to Jessica's mouth. I adored the sounds she made as she orgasmed. She was whispering the same thing over and over -'o dio, o dio.'

I put the tray with the caffetiere, the cups, the cream and sugar and all the other items no-one was going to touch on the dresser, and undressed slowly, wondering just where to start with all the female flesh on offer. It was just as well that there was still plenty of day left.



Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 04



Part Four of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Chapter Nine is finished, so I am keeping ahead of the game. The whole thing is almost 31,500? words long this far.

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.

Four Calling Birds

Jessica and I were in the guest shower, sometime around midnight, having finally staggered from the bed on which so much had happened in the last 10 hours or so. I held my lover against my breast as we allowed the water to beat against our exhausted bodies. It took all my strength to lather shower gel into her back and shoulders.

We kissed long and slow, and I told my woman how much I loved her, and how glad I was that she loved me as much as she did. Jessica kissed my nipples and lay her head on my chest, and told me something so quietly I never heard it, though I was sure I knew every word.

It had been some day. The five of us had scarcely moved from the bed, except when some pizza was delivered at nine. Lisa has staggered off sometime just after that, to open the club. She didn't look capable of turning the key, much less running the bar all night. Just as well the assistant manageress was on duty with her tonight.

Tiz slipped away just before midnight, to get back to her home while she could remember where it was. Jessica gave her the key to one of the small apartments on the second floor, saying that she could move in at once and that they would work on the lease later. It would be a pleasure to have her in the building.

As we tiptoed from the shower through the guest bedroom, we saw Orla sleeping peacefully in the tangle of sheets. Our house guest was one very happy, sated lady, judging by the smile on her full lips. Her hair was a tangle, and her limbs lay at almost every angle as she slept the sleep of the dead. Her skin shone with cum and oil, her full round breasts rose and fell slightly as she breathed.

'Doesn't she look sexy like that?' whispered Jessica.

'That woman looks sexy just walking across the room,' I said, but it was true that she positively glowed that night, having made love repeatedly with all of us, her energy seemingly boundless until she had just fallen back as she now lay, asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

'I didn't have the heart to tell her that wasn't a foursome,' I laughed.'One more minute of waiting and she would have burst.'

'She has been looking forward to this trip for months,' Jessica observed quietly.'You have to allow her a little pent-up energy.'

We crept into bed, and I held my woman close against me, kissing her mouth deeply, wriggling against her. Her soft breasts squashed against my chest and belly, her hands stroked up and down me, before one came to rest, idly playing with my soft and spent cock.

The five of us had fucked in almost every permutation we could think of. Orla and Lisa got on every bit as well as Jessica and I had known they would, and after their first coupling worked as a team on just everyone else. They had eaten Jessica's pussy and ass together while I enjoyed Tiz's mouth; then the new girl had been set upon by all three of the other women, making her baptism into bisexuality an extremely wet one! Orla had then sucked my cock back to full erection while I tongued Lisa, and I had fucked Jessica and then Orla in quick succession. Don't ask what happened after that, the details all start to blur together in my mind.

What is true is that everyone had a great time, and there was a lot of loud female laughter as Orla demanded that she should be allowed to draw more of the cards from the ice bucket. The only way to quieten the Irish minx was for us all to work on her together, which is what finally exhausted her enough to send her to sleep.

'What is on the menu for tomorrow?' I asked in the stillness of the bedroom.

I felt Jessica's mouth curl up in a smile against my chest.'Get some sleep,' was her only answer.'You'll need it.'

*****

There was a lot of coming and going the following morning. It seemed like the doorbell was going every few minutes. Laurie arrived with a sealed envelope addressed to me, delivered with a suggestive wink. I managed to hide it before Jessica came out of the bedroom.

I saw Cat arrive, and go off into conference with Jessica, presumably about the maid business. Orla stirred at about 9.30am, yawning like a hungry bear. She demolished breakfast, and then Tiz arrived. I was steadfastlessly informed that today was for the shopping part of Orla's sex and shopping trip, and Jessica kissed me goodbye as she, Orla and Tiz skipped out the door.

The envelope from Laurie contained a very pleasant surprise - the pictures from her strip show with Katherine the other night. Shot from a digital camera set at a low angle below the table, they were pretty good, and cleverly she had managed to shoot Katherine so that she was bathed in the candlelight, lit heavily from one side, with her face largely in shadow. I recognised who it was at once; most people who knew Kate well would do the same, but it was otherwise a mysterious figure who writhed and gyrated on the table.

I called the photolab handling the CD and the large prints at once and told them that I was adding one more name to the line-up (though it was tempting to ask Tiz to pose for a few pictures as well, there really wasn't time). Then I fed Minx, grabbed coat, scarf and keys and braved the cold day to take the shots of Katherine over.

I got back at about eleven, checked my email, found a message from Tasha on the machine, got her machine when I replied, and I was just walking over to the sofa to work my way through the newspaper when I heard a voice from the main bedroom.

'Hello' Is that someone there?'

Curious. You'd think that was my line, but no. I folded the paper, dropped it on the coffee table and went off in search of the mystery female voice. It was not at all difficult to find its source. That didn't mean it wasn't a shock discovering it.

Cat was on her hands and knees on the bed. That was just the basics of the situation. Add to that, she was tied, by her wrists and ankles, her arms stretched out towards the headboard. When she lifted her head, perhaps sensing that someone was in the room, I could see that she was blindfolded. She turned her head this way and that, almost sniffing the air like a wild deer.

Then, add this: she was wearing a more or less traditional French Maid costume, minus the apron and the funny little lacy cap thing. So, what that means is that she was kneeling on the bed wearing a clingy black dress with a skirt that would not have covered her ass decently if she had been standing, black seamed stockings on a garter, a miniscule g-string, and spiked patent leather pumps that would drive holes through oak floorboards.

There were more of my kinks going on here than I knew what to do with. I love submissive women (we'll get back to what that means in terms of my relationship with Jessica later); I love girls on their knees; I have a thing for stockings (thigh highs for preference, but really anything that does that magic transforming trick from silk or nylon to bare flesh high on the thigh); and it is one of my major things when a woman wears high heels in bed. Why' Because if she is wearing heels, there's no way she came to bed to go to sleep...

The tying and blindfold thing was an interesting extra.

'Who's there?' asked Cat plaintively, sounding a little scared and a little tearful. It occurred to me that I might have been supposed to have found her earlier - Jess must have helped tie her up, but at the time she could not have known I would be out of the door just after her. Just as well I didn't stay out for coffee... or lunch.

I didn't speak, just took my time to admire Cat's slender figure and soft rounded ass as she fidgeted on the bed. She must have heard me draw in breath, or the whisper of my clothing, or the light tread of my foot on the floor. Her head darted left and right.

'Paul' Jess' Is that you' Oh, please say something...'

I felt my tired, but still willing cock stir as I crossed the room. I placed one knee on the end of the bed and moved my head behind Cat's bottom as she squirmed anxiously. My breath curled air around her ass cheeks and thighs... she twitched violently against the restraints about her ankles, the spiked heels tilting up like thorns.

'Please... tell me who that is... oh don't... don't...'

My tongue stroked up the back of her thigh, from the top of her stocking to her pert little rear. She wiggled from side to side, unable to escape the pressure. I tasted her cold, bare skin on both sides. then slowly ran my tongue up along the narrow strip of material that ran through her pussy lips.

'Oh God, please, don't... you have to stop... oh, who is this... I beg you...'

I did have a little pang of guilt then, but at the same time this wasn't going to be a case of mistaken intent, like with Tizianna. And that had worked out well enough, even if it had side-tracked Jessica's plan to walk in with Lisa and catch Orla and I together, developing the foursome from there...

I drew my tongue up and down Cat's sweet little pussy, tasting her juices from her lips, edging my tongue around the g-string. I gently lifted the material away, and Cat sobbed, pleaded and begged for some clue as to who was there. I kissed and licked at her pussy again, dabbing my tongue at her. I wondered if she could feel my beard brush her labia, or if she was already too far gone to be able to feel the details. She had been left like this, anticipating, for some time; Cat's pussy was flooding almost from the first moment I kissed it.

'No... oh God... you mustn't... please, please, I have to know... is it you, Paul' Oh God, please tell me?'

She uttered a sob as if she was going to burst into tears, but then her voice climbed into a crescendo of choking, gasping moans, and I felt her pussy convulse on my tongue. I lapped along the length of her slit, dabbed my tongue inside, and licked at her flowing juices while she called her release out loudly.

Her head sank down to the sheets after she had cum, and I licked her once more gently... and then stood up behind her, unfastening my jeans. She heard my belt jangle, the snap of leather, the rasp of the zip. She was mewling like a kitten. I watched the ties at her ankles become taut again as she swayed on the bed, and then I took hold of her hips, and guided her back to my cock, sinking it straight in.

'Oh fuck yes!!!' she screamed.'Fuck me!' At least she wasn't asking it was Jess behind her any more.

I pumped my penis steadily in her wet pussy, stroke after stroke moving deeper. She was incredibly wet. Cat was quite slender, and her pussy incredibly tight. I pressed deep, rocked against her, and filled her with long strokes. She started to cum again almost at once, crying out as she slammed back hard, rocking on her knees, impaling herself on my cock. I felt her heels against my calves, the polished leather stroking against me as I pounded into her from behind.

Tired as I was after the previous day's exertions (and I'm not a morning person... except maybe first thing in the morning, if you know what I mean), I could have kept this up for a while. But then the doorbell rang. Cat was shaking, trembling after her cum... she almost choked with loss as my cock slipped out.

It was Tasha at the door, looking scrumptious in a tailored suit, with a crisp white blouse and sexy black ankle boots. She did a little bunny girl pose thing as she saw my eyes travel up and down her body with admiration, laughed tunefully and then asked if Jess or Lisa was around.

'Jess is shopping, babe. Lisa should be at her place, but she might be sleeping a little heavy.'

Tasha caught my meaning and her white teeth flashed.'I take it the Xmas list is going well?' she asked. I nodded, took her hand and guided her inside. With the door closed I gestured for her to be silent, and we crept to the bedroom. As she peeked inside, Tasha had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from shrieking.

'Paul' Are you back' Please, take me again... don't leave me like this!'

Tasha's big brown eyes flashed wickedly. She gestured and mouthed the obvious question, and I tried to hint that, yes, I had been fucking Cat when she rang the doorbell. Tasha reached across and touched my cock through my jeans, running up and down the firm shaft with her thighs. Then she lifted her hand, unzipped me deftly, and reached inside. Finding my cock slick with Cat's cum made her shiver with illicit excitement.

I helped Tasha out of her jacket, admiring the way her nipples thrust against her crisp, starched shirt like dark berries. She was stroking me with flittering, butterfly movements of her fingers. Her gaze turned from me to Cat, and she licked her lips hungrily. Grinning just as broadly, I motioned for her to go over to the bed.

Cat whimpered like a lost kitten or a frightened pup as she felt the bed move under her, and warm skin at her back, breath on her ass and the movement of the bed. She pushed her ass back, arching her back and pressing her knees wide as they dug into the mattress. I grinned as Tasha leaned closer.

Surprise.

Cat almost leapt off the bed with the surprise of feeling a soft wet tongue stroke in her pussy. Tasha gave her the most delicate and tentative lick at first, and then pressed her long fingers into the flesh of Cat's upper thigh, opening her up so that she could lick along the soaked furls of Cat's pussy.

I wondered if Cat knew, instinctively or from experience, that someone else was licking her now. She exhaled a long, high, keening cry from her throat, holding rigidly on her hand and knees as she was explored. I decided to leave her in no doubt that something new and unexpected had been added to the mix, and undressed for the second time, moving around the bed, climbing up near her head and navigating between her outstretched arms. At once, her head came up. She knew there were two people there now, and her mouth opened in a sharp intake of breath, to frame the question, just as I brushed my penis against her mouth. She whimpered, and pressed her head forward, taking the length of my flesh in at once.

Cat was not tied so tightly that she could not move, in fact she was able to rock back and forward quite a long way. Slowly at first, but then with increasing vigour, she pitched back and forward, driving her mouth down hard on my cock, then pressing back onto Tasha's face. Tasha's eyes were just visible over the flounce of Cat's skirt, looking back at me with devilment as she wriggled her tongue deeply into Cat's pussy.

Cat uttered high mewling noises, muffled around my cock as she slobbered over its length. Curiously, she didn't appear to cum, even though it was clear she was intensely aroused. Too anxious, perhaps, of who she might be performing for' Or too close to letting go so completely that it frightened her' Interesting.

She was panting so hard, almost sobbing her emotions, I finally slid from her mouth, just watching for a moment. Then, wouldn't you know it, the doorbell rang again.

I couldn't get dressed again, that would just be too much, so I pulled on my jeans and wandered through the lounge pushing my hair back into place and wondering if Cat's scent was all over me. Oh, well, whoever it was could come to their own conclusions.

'Lisa! What a surprise!'

'Very funny.'

'No, seriously... you never ring the bell.'

'You locked the door. What's that all about?'

Lisa strolled past me into the apartment, grinning at me over her shoulder. Just to prove she was completely at home, she shed the silk robe she was wearing, and padded over the floor of the lounge quite naked, tossing her long blonde hair as she looked back over her shoulder.

'Is Tasha here' She left a message on my door.'

I chuckled, shook my head in amusement at the crazy interconnections that ran all through this building and our lives, and gestured to the bedroom. Lisa would have had little trouble finding this room anyway; when I get dragged out of town, she spends more night there than in her own bed. Plus, Cat was almost screaming. Small wonder we could never have conventional neighbours.

'Well, well,' murmured Lisa in the doorway. I stood behind her, and she leaned against me, stroking her hand up and down my thigh, her hair swishing slowly over my chest.

Cat didn't hear her, or show any other sign that she knew someone else had arrived. Instead, she was straining so hard on her bounds her arms were stretched out straight, and the cords were taut. The bed rocked as she slammed back against Tasha with total abandon.

Tasha had exchanged her hand for her mouth, and was perched decorously on the corner of the bed, resting her dark cheek on Cat's round, pale ass while she pressed her hand into Cat's pussy. Three and then four of Tasha's chocolate-coloured fingers were slithering up inside Cat, whose pink lips were stretched around that dark hand, flushed and soaked.

Tasha and Lisa exchanged smiles, and Lisa stepped to the bed on her toes, treading lightly, while I shed my jeans again. Lisa, taking in the situation at once, squirmed onto the bed, feet first, crawling under Cat's body, wriggling down until her face was under Cat's dripping pussy.

Cat knew something was happening, but she was too incoherent to frame questions. Tasha placed a pillow under Lisa's head, and then slid her fingers slowly from Cat's stretched and sopping pussy. At once, Lisa stroked at Cat's clit with her tongue, wriggling into a more perfect position, drawing Cat's hips down and sucking greedily at her pussy.

'Oh God!!! What now' Oh, please... this has to stop... I can't, I can't!' Cat wailed as her pussy was licked for the third time, by a third tongue. I moved to stand at the end of the bed, above Lisa's head, and I could feel the heat coming off Cat's flesh. I knelt astride Lisa's face and guided my cock into Cat once more while Lisa concentrated on her clit. Cat shrieked, and her whole body jumped, straining at the leashes on her wrists and ankles. I fucked her hard, with long deep strokes, my hands on her waist holding her in position as Lisa and I attacked her.

'Fuck! It's too much, it's too much! Oh God... I'm cumming!' Cat screamed, and then Tasha slid wet fingers into her mouth, and Cat's screams were muffled as she suckled feverishly on them, tasting her own juices, uttering stifled cries of incredible strength. Her whole body was shaking.

I came hard inside her, and she sobbed on Tasha's hand. Tasha then slithered out of her skirt, and found a way to lie in a sort of L-shape against the head board,. pushing her wet, pink slit at Cat's mouth, and the three women fucked in a wild tangle on the bed - Lisa eating Cat from underneath, Cat sucking at Tasha, and Tasha fingering Lisa's spread pussy.

Me' I had to answer the door again, didn't I'

I was soaked in sweat and Cat's cum, but fuck it, whoever was at the door was going to have to live with it. I pulled it open a fraction, and found Jessica and Orla there. Jess had left her keys behind, or they were buried her handbag and she was struggling with enough shopping bags as it was.

I opened the door a fraction, and in they came, and there was far too much giggling for my liking at my state of undress. Then they heard Cat screaming again from the bedroom.

'Is Cat still here?' gasped Jessica.'I thought that would be over hours ago,'

'I had some help,' I explained. Orla had already skipped off to look, and Jessica took my hand and walked with me to the bedroom, where all three of the women were cumming at once, pretty much unaware that we were watching. Orla kicked off her shoes and unzipped her skirt within seconds.

'Tied and blindfolded?' I asked Jessica, kissing the side of her face.'You're the one that likes to be tied up - it's your kink rather than mine.'




Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 04



'Turns out to be Cat's too,' whispered Jessica with a knowing grin.'Isn't it amazing how well things are turning out?'



Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 05



Five Gold Rings

A day later. I lay in the bath, soaking my body in hot water and some orange and saffron-scented bath oil Jessica had found on her shopping trip with Orla. It was early evening. Some of the girls were coming over to dinner, and I was recouping my strength, remembering at the same time just what an amazing few days had passed already.

Jessica came in to the bathroom, in a loose robe, bringing cold white wine in tall glasses. She sat down on the edge of the bath, stroked her fingers through my hair. I rubbed my fingers along her upper thigh.

'How's Christmas working out for you?' she purred. I laughed, and admitted I had never had a better one. Jessica leaned over, kissed my mouth and we drank wine together. Dinner was an hour away, we had time to relax.

'I called Cat,' Jessica told me. 'She had to cry off work today. Slept until midday, apparently.'

'She was a busy girl yesterday,' I commented. I smiled to myself, remembering the look on her face when she was finally untied and had the blindfold removed. Seeing the faces of familiar friends and new lovers, she had cried for a little while and then hugged every one of us.

'I was so scared at first, after you left me for so long, I just couldn't cum! I really didn't know who was here at first! But then, there were hands all over me, tongues... your cock inside me, Paul - it was you, right? God, I felt so shameless, knowing it could have been anyone.'

'I want to try that!' Orla had giggled, and then flushed bright red as we all teased her simultaneously about how she really wanted to be fucked by a stranger, and she denied it in a voice that grew higher and higher until we were all roaring with laughter.

'So, what's on the menu for tonight,' I asked my lover. Jessica kissed me again, slow and deep, and toyed with my cock under the warm water. She didn't answer, of course, not even about what was for dinner.

'I thought you were my sub,' I protested. 'Aren't you supposed to be more obedient?'

'I let you think that for a while when we first met,' Jessica laughed, and I grabbed her and slid her into the bath with me, her robe tangled around her body until we dragged it off, and we kissed and stroked each other in the water, laughing and splashing. I stroked her clit with my fingers until she came, and she lay her head on my shoulder.

'I do belong to you, totally,' she sighed, and we kissed and teased and played a little more until we were in danger of guests arriving before we had even started to get dressed.

*****

Dinner was perfect. I'd mixed up some herbs and spices, and Jessica had created a series of light dishes - chicken, fish and lamb - served with lemon rice and spring vegetables. For dessert, there was a chocolate mousse so light it was like tasting cocoa on the air. Minx patrolled the kitchen looking for scraps.

It was bitterly cold out, and the snow was heavy on the ground, but the apartment was warm and lit with the candles on the table and a few of the side lamps along the walls. I'd made some mulled wine for when people first arrived, to take away the chill of the evening. It vanished so fast, I made another batch quickly, not quite as good as the one I had been warming all afternoon, but no-one was complaining.

We drank some Australian Shiraz, some Sancerre and a really sharp Bordeaux. The room became warmer, and everyone relaxed. The minutes ticked away.

Jessica looked so beautiful that night. Even though our fumble in the bath hadn't allowed a lot of time, still she appeared from the bedroom looking like a million dollars. Her short red hair was clean, fragrant and glowing. She had made up her face lightly, accenting her eyes and rich, full mouth. Gold earrings with drop pearls hung at her ears. She had a solitary ring on her finger, the gold ring set with amber I had bought her for the Christmas before.

She wore a gold-coloured blouse, remarkably plain in cut, that hugged her beautiful full breasts and trim waist. It was open at the neck, but not too far down, though a couple of buttons more and life would become interesting. She wore tight black pants underneath, and I was pretty sure they only needed a couple of buttons undoing as well.

Gold was the theme of the night. All our guests were dressed - to a greater or lesser degree - in gold. Lisa conformed the least; a white linen shirt with gold thread, over faded blue jeans. Lisa wore slinky dresses and high heels every night at the club; it was her unwritten rule that when she was with friends her dressing up was to dress down. The real Lisa, the one Jess alone knew best, was all about simplicity. She left her complications at the door.

Tasha had gone to the other extreme. She was wearing an amazing gold dress, edged with a black and white border. It was a kind of wrap, draped around her body, fastened at one shoulder, showing off daring amounts of thigh on one side, falling to the floor at the other. Against her dusky colouring, it was the most dramatic statement. She had tight golden bracelets on her upper arm, and a golden dragon in body paint on her exposed thigh. She called it her Nubian Queen look.

On her shopping trip with Jessica, Orla had found an equally stunning dress. It was tight, ankle length, a single sheath of lycra falling from the halter collar at her throat to her high heeled shoes. It was backless, cut up to her thigh on one side, fitting every curve of her body like a second skin. She wore her hair high, pined with two plain spikes at the back, and long diamond and gold earrings framing her face. She told us all that the gold-rose lipstick she had found had cost almost as much as the dress, but it was worth it.

Our other guest was someone I didn't know at all, though I learned as the evening went on that her name was Diane, that she knew Jessica through Tasha, that she lived across town, and that she was a workaholic who desperately needed a long Xmas break and lots of sex. OK, I was guessing about the last part, but given the situation and the company, it was the right guess.

She wore a simple, but very attractive dress, quite short, black and accented with gold straps. She had a tight necklace about her throat with a black opal set in gold, which really stood out against her pink skin. She wore thin-framed glasses, but seemed self-conscious in them at times, and left them on the table. Her hair was the colour of honey, worn high.

I tried to imagine how the evening must appear to Diane's eyes. Five women, one man, at a slow, intimate dinner. Gentle conversation, interspersed with laughter and innuendo. Tasha made reference to the Xmas list; Diana didn't look at all surprised. Was she here as part of that? I wasn't sure... but it seemed likely. Five gold rings. Five stunning women.

I played some Miles Davis over dinner, but then Jessica took over the CD player after dessert, and we had a diet of modern heavy metal, which she and Lisa danced along to, grinding against each other like they were dancers at a club. I made a mental note to have one of those shiny metal poles installed.

Orla bawled at them to strip, howling with laughter, her earrings flashing in the light as she rocked in her seat. Tasha and Diane sat curled around each other on the couch, talking in slow whispers; Tasha played with the locks of Diane's hair where they tumbled from the clasp at the back of her head. I sat on the arm of Orla's chair and watched my lover and her lover dancing sinuously around each other, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked, bodies brushing and caressing against each other.

Orla leaned across, crossed her arms and laid them on my legs, and looked up at me with her roguish, wicked eyes. 'So, handsome,' she said. 'Day Five almost done, and you haven't had your present yet.' I grinned in reply. She wriggled her shoulders, rubbing her breasts on my leg, then turned to Jessica. 'Darlin', when does the damn man get his Xmas present?'

'As soon as you get your panties off.' Jessica replied, without looking away from Lisa at all.

'Jesus, woman,' Orla muttered, her Dublin brogue even stronger than normal after several glasses of Sancerre. 'Do you think I could wear panties under this thing?'

'Don't ask me,' purred Jessica, brushing her mouth over Lisa's. 'I never wear them at all.'

Orla laughed, and lifted up against me, brushing my flank with lycra-clad warm skin. My jacket was over the back of the dining chair; her fingers quickly worked down my shirt buttons.

'You are a very, very lucky man, Paul,' she told me, in a strong, certain voice that was almost scolding. I grinned; Orla delivered this lecture regularly. She kissed my stomach and chest as she peeled my shirt back, licking at my nipples. I felt my cock harden rapidly, just looking around the room, being touched, being undressed, warm air and warm breath on my skin, the wine making my body hum.

'So, what's the theme for tonight?' I asked. 'Or do I have to work it out afterwards?'

Orla checked with Jessica, a rapid glance. These women said more with their eyes than most could say in a thousand words.

'I think you have to know this one in advance, darlin',' she whispered, and she slid down my zipper as she did so. 'Tonight, you can have any of us... all of us... when you choose... here in public or privately in bed...' She slid her hand around my hard cock, and her voice trembled just a little as she felt it grow and come to life in her hand.

'There's just one restriction...'

'My present comes with a caveat?' I said, voice low.

Orla's mouth was hovering over my cock; so close, I could feel moist breath on the glans, and my cock stiffened even more, stretching, searching for her mouth.

'Oh God,' she whispered, and it sounded almost plaintive. She continued to speak and blow air over my cock, her voice low. The music faded, vanished. I knew everyone was watching.

'Just one restriction,' she repeated, a little catch in her voice. 'You can fuck us, darlin', but only in the arse.'

The way she said it, the emphasis on that last word, spoken tremblingly, with her accent and - of course - calling it 'arse', not 'ass', well, I don't know... it sounded intimate and emotional and real in the most amazing way. And when I looked around the room, at my lover, whose idea this must have been; at Tasha and Lisa, who would have been in on the plan from the beginning; at Diane, a stranger before tonight; when I looked around the room I understood the power in that suggestion. and I swallowed hard as my mouth dried.

Orla lifted her mouth away from my cock, and slid out of the seat to stand with Jessica and Lisa, the three of them dancing slowly in the middle of the floor. Five pairs of eyes looked across at me, challenging, daring.

I don't know who laughed first, but soon we all were, and I had to go get more wine for us all, as the mood relaxed... even though it was hard to be really relaxed with my cock so stiff (and women giggling when you are walking around the room half naked and erect is not a good thing...).

Lisa, Orla and Jessica were still swaying in a little huddle in the middle of the floor, pecking at each other's lips, smiling, whispering. Hands moved lightly over clothing. As I suspected, it didn't take long for my baby to become naked. A button here, a button there, and cloth slithered over soft skin, to leave Jess free to step from her pants bare and glowing. She turned, and walked over to me, drawing her hands up over her breasts, high-stepping towards me, one foot placed in front of the other, sinuous and seductive.

She slid slowly onto my lap, kissing my mouth. I ran my hand up the back of her neck, under the line of her hair, stroking at her skin. There was a light sheen on her, light, fragrant. As her legs settled against mine, I felt it even more. I slide my hand up over her ribs, and cupped her breasts, and then I knew for sure - Jessica was oiled from head to toe. I felt her shiver under my palms, from the sensual contact and the awareness that I had discovered that the only underclothing she wore was a light application of light massage oil.

We kissed, lingering, tasting. She knelt astride me, and rubbed her breasts on my chest so I could feel the ungent on her skin. I lifted one breast to my mouth, and sucked slowly at her nipple, as my hands ran up and down her back. She sighed, and lay against me, urging me to devour her body with my mouth. I kissed and licked at her breasts, feasting on her. She cupped her breasts, squeezed them, feeding her nipples into my mouth. I heard her murmur something softly, but the words were lost as she pressed her mouth into my unkempt grey hair.

My hands trailed down into the small of her back, and then over the soft curves of her rear. I felt more oil, and moaned. She was soaking wet back there, in the cleft. My fingers skated over her skin and I felt her shiver and press back, searching for my fingers. I nipped her breasts lightly between my teeth and slid a finger over her anal opening, finding it slick and soft and wet.

'Yes, baby,' she whispered. 'For you... all for you.'

She wriggled a little further forward, her wet pussy brushing against my belly. She rubbed herself against me slowly, spreading her legs wider, then reached behind to take my cock in her hand. She rubbed it up and down, her fingers pulling at my shaft, and guided me back to where I was teasing at her tiny hole. She shuffled a little closer, and pressed my penis against her body. I moaned against her breasts and felt her ass open slowly. Jessica let a little cry, an exhalation of tension, escape her mouth, and then the head of my cock popped inside her. She was so wet, so slick. We rocked and ground our bodies a little tighter and I slowly filled my lover's body with my still-hardening cock.

I pressed her breasts together and sucked greedily, biting around her nipples, drawing them into my mouth. She rode slowly up and down on my cock, her oiled ass massaging every inch of my hard shaft, her muscles toying with me, massaging me, stroking me inside her. Her body slithered up and down against mine, I could feel her breath and her fingers in my hair. She slammed down harder on my cock, and filled herself as far as I could reach, lifted and drove down again. I heard her song, her cries of pleasure.

'Oh God... oh God... oh God... oh baby... cum in me... Paul... oh Paul!'

I felt the first spasm rise in me like an irresistible force, like gravity, I fell against her and filled her deeply, my cock jetting semen into the wetness of her ass, pumping and jumping inside her. I cried out her name and gripped her tight. feeling her wrap her arms around the back of my head and neck, crushing me to her breasts as I came in her rear.

We lay like that for a while, locked and wrapped in each other's arms. My head lay back against the back of the chair, my eyes closed, my breath deep. Jessica lay over me like a blanket, warming me body and soul. I toyed with her hair. It seemed like an age passed before she slipped off my cock and half-turned so that she was curled up in my lap, wrapped up in my arms, her feet on my thighs. I looked into her eyes, and then around the room...

Oh yes! We had guests. I'd almost forgotten.

Diane and Tasha were where we had left them, close and intimate on the sofa, sharing a conversation of considerable depth, private and quiet. Had they looked at all while I made love to Jess? It was impossible to tell.

Orla and Lisa were back at the dining table, feeding each other mousse off their fingers, purring at each other. Orla's hair had tumbled down around her neck in a way that suggested they had been kissing hungrily while they watched Jess and I. Lisa slid her hand up inside the tight skirt of Orla's dress through the slit at the side; I could see the outline of her arm and hand moving over Orla's ass. Orla gave a little shriek as she felt fingers stroking at her, then wriggled her ass back against Lisa's hand.

'Oh my God? Is that mousse?'

'Whipped cream, actually, but the mousse would be a good idea too.'

Orla giggled loudly, and wiggled more and more. A soft sigh broke through her lips, and her eyes closed. 'Oh God, Lisa... yes... go deeper...'

Jessica kissed the side of my neck as we watched across the room. Her hand closed around my wet cock and stroked slowly up and down, stretching my shaft, her thumb moving over the head. I cuddled her against my body and felt her wetness on my legs. Or was that my wetness from her? It hardly mattered.

Orla leaned forward over the table, bracing her hands flat on the surface, scattering cutlery. She straightened her legs, pushed her ass back, offered to Lisa's fingers. Though her hand was hidden under the lycra dress, we could see every moment Lisa made, the flexing of her fingers, the way she was stroking Orla in the crease between her cheeks. The lycra wrapped itself over them both as Orla lifted her ass higher.

'Christ yes... your thumb... oh God.... be gentle Lisa... but put it in...'

The muscles in her legs tensed as she rose up on her toes, leaning over the table, her forearms down now, her head resting on them. Lisa, standing partly to the side, making sure the view was not obscured by anything more that that amazing dress, worked her hand against Orla's cheeks, and her fingers were slipping up and down in between. Orla gasped and moaned louder, her soft lilting Irish accent rolling across the room as she begged Lisa for more.

Jessica's fingers were skipping lightly over my cock, up and down, circular patterns around the head, and then pumping from the base to the glans. I was still - or was that again? - erect.

'Go and fuck her, baby,' she whispered.

'Is that a bit unfair to Lisa?' I smiled. It was clear from her expression that our blonde neighbour and lover was very aroused as she fingered Orla.

'Leave Lisa to me.'

We approached the table together on bare feet, reaching the girls there without making much of a sound. I pushed and tugged Orla's dress up around her waist, exposing her creamy thighs and rounded ass. She looked back over her shoulder, realising it wasn't Lisa (which gave me a flashback to Cat,who wouldn't have had a clue at this point... no wonder people like the blindfold thing), and moaned. Jessica took Lisa's hand by the wrist and drew her thumb out of Orla's ass, and I moved closer.

'Christ yes,' Orla cried, her voice rising. 'Fuck my arse, Paul, Fuck it now.'

Her juices were flowing, and Lisa must have used them liberally to make her asshole wet, because Orla opened easily around my cock as I slid it inside her, her cheeks brushing along my shaft as I sank it deep inside her. Her head came up, and then sank back down to her arms. I ran my hands up along her torso, and slide them under her ribs to cup her breasts.

'Oh God yes, like that Paul... go on, fuck me... Make me your asswhore...'

At her side, Lisa was being pressed forward in identical fashion as Jessica leaned her down, reaching around to unfasten her jeans. She tugged the skin-tight denim off Lisa's rump, and helped her out of them, tossing them away across the room and laughing. She spanked Lisa's tight little cheeks and rubbed her pussy lips through her panties. As we turned to look at each other, her eyes met mine with a twinkle of pure lust.

My cock was stretching Orla out with slow, luxuriant strokes. She purred and moaned under me, her warm flesh around my cock, her fingers scratching at the table as she felt me push deep. More crockery and cutlery was scattered as Lisa was pushed forward too, and Jessica slipped two fingers deep in her shaved pussy.

We fucked the girls hard over the table. Orla and Lisa could not have sounded less alike when they spoke, but it was amazing how their voices blended harmoniously as they came together almost to the second. Lisa was dripping wet by the time Jessica got three fingers in her tight pussy, and Jessica used that wetness to lube the girl's tight little butthole while she was still moaning from her cum.




Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 05



'Want to swap?' she asked.

Orla pouted and moaned as my cock slid from her ass, but Jessica spanked her pink rear and told her she had to share. The she put two fingers up Orla's open ass and fingered the Irish minx to a second loud and shattering climax.

I had to wait a little longer to get into Lisa, who is slim-hipped and very tight. But she is an anal slut of the first degree, and she and Jessica are always experimenting with toys and other things, fucking each other in the ass after licking each other to orgasm. Once I had Lisa lubed a little more, and positioned just right across the table, my cock went up inside her, and I fucked her long and deep until she was sobbing with pleasure across the table.

I was on the brink of spurting, but eased out of Lisa's rear and went back inside Orla once more. When we first met, she, Jessica and I, she told us that she was a one orgasm, that she preferred quality to quantity. Even by the end of our first time together, that wasn't as true any more. I pressed my cock gently inside her ass again as she lay exhausted from Jessica's attentions, and she moaned from deep inside, and begged for my cum in her ass.

After a few heavy, deep strokes, I obliged, feeling my cock spurt streams of cum into her body. Jessica, kneeling at my side, mewled for some too, and I pulled slowly from Orla and spent the last drops onto Jessica's tongue, watching her lap it down like a kitten with cream.

*****

After that, everyone needed to regroup and recoup a little. Lisa and Tasha went off to the bedroom. In just a few minutes, I could hear Lisa cumming again, and begging for Tasha to tongue her deeper. Rest was not in Lisa's vocabulary.

Orla and Jessica were curled on the rug in front of the fire. Jessica was tenderly rubbing more of the same oil she wore into Orla's ass, while Orla cooed and lay stretched out, looking sleepy and content, her dress removed but her high heels still gracing her feet. Jessica looked at me, grinning wickedly, and licked my semen from her fingers before she curled up around our Irish lover, kissing at her body gently.

I lay on the couch, stretched quietly on my back, staring up at the ceiling, and then closing my eyes for a moment... listening to the distant sound of Lisa and Tasha tonguing, and Jessica murmuring something as she kissed Orla's skin. Then I felt someone come and stand close, and I realised it was Diane. This sounds silly, I know, but I covered myself with my hands as I realised who it was standing over me. Well, she was a stranger. OK, OK, it makes no sense at all.

'May I?'

'Sure.'

She settled on her haunches at the side of the couch, her head turned to face me, one hand raised and resting on my forearm, the other on her thighs. I propped my head up on one arm so I could look at her. It was quite intriguing to have this fully-dressed stranger so close, while I was lying there naked and - I admit - limp after two hard climaxes. I was curious to find out what was going on in her mind.

'That was some conversation you were having with Tasha, from what I could see.'

'She was introducing you all to me, so that I knew more about what was going on,' Diane replied. She had a soft accent, a low and quiet voice. Her hair was honey-coloured, curled onto her shoulders; she wore rich red lipstick, and gold narrow-framed glasses over dark, long-lashed eyes. When she saw me looking at her face so closely, she reached up the hand from her lap and went to remove the glasses, but I stilled her arm. After all, mine were only on the dining table because I had dropped them while fucking Lisa.

'How do you know Tasha?' I asked. Diane didn't answer the way I expected at all.

'Tasha knows... my nature. She knows I have this need to explore the boundaries of my sexuality. She told me about the Xmas present Jessica has arranged for you... and that tonight would be... ideal for me.'

That was frank. I told her that we were all glad she could come. She reached out, slid her hand under mind and caressed my cock. I shifted a little, felt her close her fingers around my penis. Her face was inscrutable. Over dinner she had laughed at the jokes, joined in the conversation; now she seemed intense, thoughtful. Some powerful emotions were being worked through in her mind.

'May I clean your cock?' she whispered. Her mouth opened in a perfect O. This did not seem, the time to mention that this was against the rules. All the same, Diane seemed to need permission, and her eyes flickered across the room to where Jessica and Orla were sitting up, arms wrapped around each other, watching. I didn't see Jessica nod, and she certainly didn't speak, but Diane came up onto her knees, turned back to face me, and lowered her mouth onto my cock.

Warm, moist breath blanketed me. My head fell back, my hips pushed up. I moaned quietly. Diane pressed her mouth all the way down to my groin, and I felt her busy tongue swirling around my cock, flicking and licking. Wet sucking sounds came from her mouth. Her hands lay along my body; one on my thigh, the other on my chest, long fingernails scratching at my skin. I felt myself stirring in her mouth, though it was perhaps still soon for too much to happen.

Jessica and Orla came over, sliding across the wooden floor. They unfastened Diane's clothing, no words spoken, rendering her as naked as they were. Jessica slid up close and kissed me deeply. My hand gripped her hair, and she ran her fingers over my beard. I caressed her breasts. Then she broke the kiss, and whispered to me that I had to fuck Diane hard before the night was through.

The four of us combined in a kissing, stroking, fingering, licking tangle on the floor and couch, moving around each other, twisting and turning like a strange primal beast. I sucked Jessica's breasts, and cupped them together so I could kiss deeply in her soft cleavage. Orla's hand was working up and down my cock. One of the women was cumming hard, panting deeply.

The moment arrived, and we all seemed to move into position by instinct. Diane was perched over Jessica, with my lover's tongue flicking at her clit. Orla kissed me hard and opened Diane's cheeks. I pressed slowly into her tight orifice, which had been deeply lubricated by oily fingers. She was tight, wet, and as I lay over her back I sank the length of my cock home inside her, and she lifted her head and cried out. I rolled my cock around inside her, stroked slowly in and out, feeling Jessica's breath on my cock. Orla was kneeling beside me, watching as I fucked Diane, whispering encouragement, and moaning as she rubbed at her clit. Her hips and mine were rocking against Diane's spread cheeks. She pressed back hard against me, and the pace increased. Orla reached down and stroked at Jessica's clit until my lover was thrashing under Diane, cumming abruptly. Then Diane started to cry out once more, and as her tight ass contracted around my cock, I felt myself being milked, and spasmed deeply into her.

'Oh God,' whispered Diane. 'That was so much more than I expected.'

I knew how she felt. We lay in a tangled heap around each other for a while, barely able to move. Orla and Diane limped off to the guest bedroom; Jessica and I spent a few minutes putting some of the leftover food away and heaping crockery in the dishwasher, and then we staggered to our own bed, to find Lisa and Tasha curled up in one corner, fast asleep, sticky from each other's cum. There was enough room for Jess and I to find space to collapse, huddled together. I don't think any one of the four of us moved an inch before morning.

*****



Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 06



Part Six of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. yes, I know it's July now; I've been busy, OK?

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.

* * * * *

Six Geese A-laying When I awoke the following morning, my hand was on Tasha's bare ass (even in my sleep I couldn't leave these women alone). She stirred and wriggled under my touch, and her long-lashed eyes opened slowly. She looked back over her shoulder, blinking, and there was a moment when we both realised hers was the only ass I hadn't had the previous day.

'You have to be kidding,' she whispered, and went back to sleep.

*****

We ate breakfast in a kind of relay, as people appeared from the two bedrooms, eyes half-closed against the brightness of a sunlit winter day. Mostly we ate what was left over from the night before, although Jessica fed bread into the toaster until it was threatened with burnout (I knew how it felt) and I made coffee and poured orange juice.

We looked around the detritus of the kitchen and dining area. The apartment was a mess. Just looking at made me tired (OK, that wasn't the only reason).

'Did Cat get anywhere finding us an actual maid?' I asked.

'She got distracted,' Jessica said, with a grin playing across her mouth. Orla and Lisa giggled filthily.

'If you had a maid, Paul, would you really want her to be cleaning?'

'Only his cock,' whispered Diane, and then she covered her mouth as if she was shocked that she said it out loud. Her eyes had a dark gleam in them, though.

Jessica and Lisa were whispering about something. Orla went over to join in. I knew they were plotting and so I went over to the window seat, and looked out over the street. Snow was piled high on the sidewalk, and more was falling slowly. Everything looked really peaceful outside, and the streetlamps and the glow from the store windows on the far side of the road lit up the white snow, and bathed the scene in an eerie glow.

Tasha came over and parked herself in my lap, winding her soft brown arms around me. I kissed her cheek affectionately.

'Are you disappointed that you didn't get all five gold rings?' she asked.

'I didn't think about it, Tasha. I mean, am I supposed to fuck a girl for each number in the story? Because if I am, by the time we get to twelve drummers drumming or whatever it is, I'll need hospitalisation.'

She giggled and played her fingers through my hair. 'I just didn't want you to think I had chickened out,' she said.

That hadn't really occurred to me, but the thought did cross my mind right then that this really was a surreal Christmas, and the most amazing present. I wondered what had motivated some of the women to agree... Diane, Cat and yes, Tasha. Tasha had a boyfriend, who we rarely encountered, and she would often disappear out of our social circle for weeks at a time. But when she was around, she and Lisa could be pretty inseparable, and the two of them were incredibly close to Jessica too. By extension, that meant that I had made love to Tasha a few times, and seen her with my lover several more times. Tasha just belonged with us, and although she didn't treat the apartment as a second home in the same was as Lisa, she was a frequent visitor. I recalled the first day of this adventure, and the three of them in the den, laughing and plotting together.

'Don't worry about it, Tasha.'

She kissed my head, then got up to recover the rest of her clothes. Amazingly, she was going to try to get to work.

Jessica was on the phone for about an hour after that, so I took a long bath, and did a few of those daily chores, like checking my email and making sure Minx was fed and pampered. Our spoiled and superior cat stalked the apartment and made sure she knew who all the participants were, looking like a tabloid journalist as she rooted around in the bedroom, pulling at the tangled sheets, searching for clues for our depravity.

Jessica came to find me as I straightened the bed. She was grinning.

'What have you been plotting?' I asked.

'Just a little embellishment on my plans for the day.'

I scratched my head. 'Six geese a-laying,' I said. 'The 'laying' bit sounds fun. But geese?'

'Don't take it so literally,' Jessica grinned, 'or you will be bitterly disappointed with the lords a-leaping.'

'Let's hope so.'

'You free at about three this afternoon?' she asked. I nodded, knowing that the only thing I really did have to complete was her present. 'Can you keep Orla entertained until then too?'

'Pass my Viagra,' I groaned.

Jessica howled with laughter, her deep, rich voice full and sensuous. She crawled over the bed and kissed my mouth deeply, stroking my cock with one hand, and running the fingers of the other through my hair. 'Save your strength, lover.'

'Don't tell me, tell her!'

*****

Luckily, Orla was in the mood for museums and galleries, and we had a leisurely lunch at a brasserie. She was really good about not dragging me into too many shops as we walked back to the building through the darkening afternoon, but she did purchase a few gifts to take back to Ireland.

'Just what did you tell people at home that you were coming here for?' I asked.

'Shopping!' she grinned. 'I'm more worried about getting home. They'll ask me what I got up to, and I'm going to have to tell them more than just a few museums!'

'Maybe we can take in a show,' I said, and I knew how stupid that sounded the moment the words were out of my mouth.

*****

It was a fraction after three when we got back into the apartment. There was no sign of Jessica, and I uttered a small groan at the sight of the kitchen and dining room still in the same state as before. Eventually, that mess was going to need to be tackled.

'There's a note from Jessica,' said Orla. 'It says you're to go to 2C at three. What's 2C?'

2C was a vacant apartment two floors down, the largest of the vacant spaces in the building, and a nice living space that Jessica was trying to find the right tenant for. Katherine and Lauren were the prime candidates.

'Have you ever had someone ask about the apartments who wasn't a woman Jessica wanted to sleep with?' giggled Orla as we took the stairs down. Naturally, she was tagging along.

'We don't exactly advertise in the local paper,' I replied, holding open the fire door onto the second floor. 'The whole point is that everyone who comes to live here is someone we know and Jessica trusts. She's not exactly a conventional landlord.'

'I'll say,' Orla grinned, and she waited at my side as I opened the door to 2C with the building master key. We stepped inside.

'Oh,' gasped Orla. 'Now this is what I call a show.'

*****

It was the most complicated part of my present to organise, Jessica confided in me later. She had had to juggle the availability of the participants, the builders who were renovating the apartment, a couple of guys who had installed the more specialised extras, lighting, everything. I swear there was a moment when all this went through my mind, when I was just awe-struck with the inventiveness and organisational skills of my amazing lover. No more than a moment, though. Mostly, I just gaped.

How do I even start to describe this? The apartment was centred on a square living space, with an unfitted kitchen/diner to one side. The living space was in a sort of well, a couple of steps down from the entrance lobby and the kitchen, with short stairways climbing to the bedroom and bathroom. Lights shone down from the walls, while a coloured tarp had been drawn up to shield the wide windows, which overlooked the back of another building across an inner courtyard. The tarp was backlit; no-one would be able to see in.

The well had been temporarily furnished with all kinds of chairs, cushions, pillows and throws, gathered from who knows where, an eclectic jumble sale of modern and period pieces, in myriad colours and fabrics. Some modern garage cuts I didn't recognise but wouldn't be listening to played from a sound system I couldn't locate. It was the only thing that didn't quite seem 'Jessica'.

My lover was sitting on a worn chrome and leather sixties couch, looking relaxed and mischievous as she sipped Chardonnay. Lisa was at the other end of the couch, at a distance which suggested that if they had been any closer they would have been unable to keep their hands off each other. Katherine and Laurie were not so restrained, and were curled around each other on a heap of rugs in one corner of the well. Tasha was on the arm of a huge chair, and I was surprised to see her man had accompanied her, and that he was was sitting with his arm protectively around her waist. Interesting.

The other two guests were Diane and Cat, only they didn't look quite as comfortable as the others. Both were blinking in the glare of cold white spots mounted on the walls, while everyone else was in warmer, more intimate pools of light. As Orla and I arrived, the two women, who were more or less facing the door, turned their heads up to face me, and I heard the soft susurration of chains, along with the whisper from Diane's mouth of "Oh God" and the familiar mewl of Cat's arousal. The look on their faces was priceless; eyes wide, mouths open; the harsh lighting making their pale faces almost white.

The chains that bound their wrists lifted their hands above their heads, and were threaded through loops screwed into the ceiling. Small hand winches set to the side suggested the chains could be tightened or loosened. At the moment, the two women were kneeling on piles of rugs and cushions, their arms vertical at the sides of their faces. Each movement they made caused the silvered chains to clink, and they twisted from the leather straps around their wrists.

The only clothing either wore was a tiny g-string - gold for Diane, silver for Cat - that did so little to shield their modesty, and everything to draw attention to their shaved mounds. Both had armlets and ankle-bracelets, and their faces had been made up exquisitely. They were like animated decorations, their bodies glittering, sheened with oil and nervous perspiration. Scattered on the floor around their knees were various toys and whips, a cane and boxes which doubtlessly contained other implements. Diane saw me looking at one of the soft-tailed leather cats, and her whole body shivered.

'Well, well,' I whispered. Jessica grinned, and beckoned me over to sit between her and Lisa, their seat being close by the two women, just in front of them. We kissed deeply, and I stroked my hand up and down her bare arm. Like most of the women, Jessica wore a simple cocktail dress, as if were attending a dinner party or drinks at more conventional friends. I felt Lisa run her fingers over the bones of my elbow, and turned back to kiss her cheek. Greetings continued around the room; there was even the formal introduction of Tasha's companion.

'Have you worked out what card they drew yet?' asked Lisa, who had a low opinion of my intellect (and perhaps with good reason).

'This one is easy,' I chuckled. Jessica had done the slave girl thing with me a few times, though never so elaborately. It was also a very different atmosphere too, because the two women looked genuinely anxious, while Jessica could be the most obstructive, teasing, independent slave you'd ever care to meet. I wondered what they had been told.

'Cat's been busy drawing cards,' I grinned, whispering against my lover's ear. Jessica nodded, smiling devilishly. Given that Cat was bound for the second time in a couple of days, I was more and more certain that the 'draw' had been fixed. But what about Diane? Surely she was too new...

'Charity had to pull out,' Jessica explained, reading my mind as usual.

'Would you believe she has taken an actual Master?' Lisa said, with a loud laugh. 'Seriously! He collared her a few nights ago, and she had to call Jessica to cry off.'

So Diane was a late substitute. Clearly she was being rapidly drawn into our little circle. I met her eyes again, and they were almost begging me, wide and bright. Was she begging to be released or for enslavement to be taken to new heights. Or did the idea of being collared by a master appeal to her. I was about to ask Jessica a question, but she must have been mind-reading again, because she placed her forefinger over my lips and told me to be patient.

She slipped out of the seat and I took her place. Lisa slid over the leather and placed her body warmly against mine. Orla came to sit on the edge of the well, her feet swinging above the floor, delight on her face.

'These two are your slaves tonight, my love,' Jessica purred, standing behind the two chained women. She took them both by the hair and pulled their head up and back. 'They are both expecting you to fuck them, and I know you won't disappoint them. But if you can think of any surprises, they both deserve to be shaken out of their complacency.'

Lisa leaned closer. Her voice was quite throaty, husky, as she whispered: 'Please let us use them too.' Her fingers unfastened a few buttons on my shirt, and then impatiently found their way to my erect cock, bulging under my pants.

We all relaxed, played, drank a little while and played some more. All of us, that is, except for Diane and Cat, who hung from their chains, looking pensive, apprehensive and somewhat hungry to join in. Lisa gave me a lingering blow job, sporting short of actually sucking me off - I presume the idea was to get my blood running a little hotter. Katherine and Laurie lost themselves in their own private reverie in the corner, which Orla crept over to watch. My Jessica teased and menaced the two slaves, turning them this way and that to watch the activity in the room.

Heartily aroused by Lisa, I went over to join her, standing behind the captives, looking down at them, over their shoulders. They were a delectable sight, their raised arms living their breasts, which heaved quickly as their breathing hastened; the skin was flushed with arousal, dewed with perspiration. They craned their heads round to look up at me with eyes flashing white; Cat was panting.

I took the cat first, twitching it lightly through the air, getting used to the hard leather grip in my fist. The tails made a very satisfactory swish through the air. Just the sound made the slaves' nipples harden. Diane rubbed her thighs together, shifting from one knee to the other; Cat was holding her legs so tightly together I thought she was frightened she might wet herself.

I moved around in front of the girls and lightly flicked the whip out at Cat's breasts. The tails stung her softly, and the chains rippled and sang as she rocked back, flinching and wincing, letting out a small yelp. I struck her again, more to one side, and then a third time, lower around her belly. She faced me defiantly each time, her body reddening softly, eyes gleaming white. I took the cat down across her thighs, and she mewled and cried and gasped, her mouth wide open, tongue licking at her lips.

Jessica went to the winch that held Diane's chain, and motioned for her to stand. Biting her hip, but with a defiant toss of her head that whipped her shoulder-length hair around her head, Diane did as she was told. Jessica slowly shortened the chain so that Diane was stretched up, her bare feet dancing in the soft folds of the cushions and rugs under her toes.

I switched to stinging her torso with the whip, and she turned and flinched away from each strike, but I was able to land a few brushing, light blows around her breasts and upper thighs. Her eyes never left mine. She was almost daring me to hit her harder; her nipples were like small dark bullets. Between her legs, the g-string had slid between the puffy lips of her pussy, and had darkened with her juices.

Cat was hauled up alongside Diane, and I treated them both to a few light strikes with the seven-tailed whip, contrasting how they cried with that strange mixture of fear and excitement, stimulated by the stinging caress of the leather tails. It was an erotic concoction of sounds and sights, and my cock was almost as hard as the grip in my hand.

I moved around behind Cat, and prised her buttocks apart, spreading her legs as wide as I could while she was still just about able to keep some small part of her feet on the floor. I had already been undressed by Lisa, and so all I had to do was position myself so that my hips were under Cat's, pull her soaked g-string to the side, and push up, and the girl was impaled fully on my erect cock.

Diane uttered such a cry if frustration Jessica gave her a few light strokes of the cane across her buttocks and then dropped to her knees to lick and kiss at her pussy from underneath.

I screwed my cock into Cat hard, watching Diane being eaten so ravenously at the same time. It was an amazing sensation. I've fucked Jessica standing up many times, but with Cat being held almost off her feet by the chain, it was a completely different sensation, as if she weighed nothing at all. Almost every motion she made rotated her left or right on the chain, and her flooding pussy twisted sensuously around on my cock. I did not last long under such sweet pressure, but ejaculated into her, gasping with deep pleasure while she sobbed loudly and clenched her muscles tightly around my cock.

As I made my way back to the couch, Jessica released Diane with orders to come and clean me with her mouth, which she did with great relish. The cuffs she wore had now been fastened behind her back by a short link of the same chain, and she knelt at my feet, bobbing her head furiously, licking my cock clean but also trying to work my erection back to life by the touch of her lips and tongue alone.

Jessica, Lisa and Tasha went to work on Cat with a vengeance. The poor girl was still hanging from her wrists, which looked a little chafed. Discomfort was the last thing on her mind, though, I suspect. Lisa spanked her sadistically, then used a very large dildo on her pussy, which Jessica had lapped at to taste my semen as it dripped from her. Tasha kissed her fiercely, and twisted her nipples with the long-nailed fingers of both hands. Between the three of them they fucked, sucked and licked Cat until she was orgasming so continuously, I don't think she took a single breath that wasn't a gasp or cry.

To her delight, Diane managed to make my cock hard a second time with her hungry mouth, but the thing about being a slave is that you do all the work for someone else to get the rewards. Orla came over, pulled her head back from my cock and straddled my lap to take my cock inside her. Diane squealed with rage, but before she could protest Lisa and Jessica fell on her. Jessica had wriggled into the harness of a strap on, which she forced Diane to first suck, and then take in her pussy; Lisa masturbated Diane's anus first with her fingers, then with a slender vibration. Soon Diane was screaming for mercy (or for more).

Orla slipped off my cock before the end, and she and Jessica together stroked my cock until it geysered over the faces of the two slaves. They ate my cum from each other's mouths, and were then spanked again for being so shameless. That just kept them in the same pitch of excitement.

The night continued in the same vein for some hours. While the guests were able to rest now and then, the two slaves were continually fucked and sucked, enjoyed from every angle and in every way, until they were barely able to stand. And when none of us had the strength to use them, Jessica had them serve drinks from silver trays, their feet bound at the ankles by similar collar and chain arrangements, that made them shuffle like geishas. Then, by common consent, we agreed that no arrangement that kept their legs closed made sense, so they were converted into tables and impromptu shot glasses, and we drank vodka, tequila and their juices until the bottles were dry (though not the women).




Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 06



We staggered upstairs to our apartment at something like four in the morning. Laurie and Katherine staggered across the street; Tasha and her man went off to her place; Lisa decided to sleep at ours with Orla. We left the slaves sharing the couch and a blanket, chained to each other, and I sure I heard them both cum at least once more in the time it took me to undress, clean my teeth and tumble into bed with Jessica.

Just before we fell asleep, the thought popped into my head.

'Did Cat ever get round to finding us a maid?'

Jessica giggled, the sound muffled by her being under the duvet licking at my cock for a last taste of me. She popped her head up, looking sleepy but so very content with the latest instalment of her present.

'Diane says she wants the job,' she grinned, 'but I think Cat might tell her it is taken!'



Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 07



Part Seven of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Typical. You wait seven months for chapter six, and then two come along in 24 hours.

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are.

* * * * *

The Twelve Lays of Xmas

Seven Swans A-Swimming

Nobody was around very early the following day, but I actually had to force myself out of bed at about ten to go and see the people behind my present to Jessica, the CD and the artworks. Apparently, all was finally ready.

The owner of the bureau was an attractive woman in her twenties, with long, light-brown hair; buxom, curvy, vivacious and full of curiosity. Her name was Cristal. I hadn't picked her because of her big tits - I think Jess had found her, actually, when she was seeking out someone to process some graphics she had designed - but they were no disincentive. Actually, I had been completely professional around her, which - this time - she didn't repay. I waited twenty minutes to see her, by which time most of her staff had departed for lunch, and I was half-asleep in a comfortable chair in her office. At least when Cristal reappeared, she brought latté.

She had asked to speak to me rather than just hand over the disk, which was slightly worrying. My chief concern with this extravagant present was how and when I was going to get the pictures hung in the entrance vestibule to the building without Jessica seeing them. Before Christmas obviously had big advantages. The contractors had been extremely difficult about this, understandably, but we had worked out that if the wall mountings and lighting were put in place on the 20th, a small crew could come and hang the pictures on Christmas Eve. Even if she saw the work, Jessica might not assume it was anything to do with her present; the vestibule had needed re-lighting, and I had told her back in October that I would take care of it. Two months for me to get the job done was stretching it, but she hadn't complained at all. Much.

So, the last thing I needed was for there to be any delay with the prints, which Cristal's people were producing and a framer was meant to be completing in the next four days. Her asking me to wait worried me (though not enough to stop me falling asleep).

So, when she came back into her office with coffee and apologies, I came round sluggishly, but I did come round. I was almost ready to ask if there was a problem when Cristal's curiosity got the better of her.

'I have to ask: I have seen many unusual presents in my time, but for a man to give his lover naked pictures of her female friends and neighbours, to be hung in their house, that beats a lot of them. Are you sure she wouldn't have preferred perfume?'

I laughed; Cristal was merely being humorous as well as inquisitive. Well, she had a point, and I suppose I had just blithely assumed that she would take the order, process the job and never wonder. I drank the coffee she had brought, and felt my mind come slowly out of the fog of sleep, as I explained. Cristal's eyes widened with every twist and turn of the story. She leafed through some prints on her desk which turned out to be prints of the pictures for the building vestibule.

'That's incredible,' she said eventually, sounding a little dry-mouthed. 'I thought your gift to her was... unique... But, well...'

I shook my head, still feeling slow and stupid with lack of sleep. Why had I told her about the excesses of the last few days and nights? The point had been to explain my gift to Jessica, not to detail our strange lifestyle to someone who was a stranger.

Confession caught on. 'I've never been with a woman,' she murmured, and this was more than just information, it was the open expression of a wish. We looked at each other for a moment, and I caught her looking down at the naked and near-naked women on her desk, and without a moment's hesitation I asked for her home number.

*****

The framers were happy, the installation crew were - well, not happy, but they had stopped bitching. Their foreman had spoken to me in that languid "we need more money" kind of way, and I promised him that I would sooner hang the pictures with Blu-tac than get ripped off over a job for which he was already getting well-paid. He agreed to get the work done; I agreed not to sue his arse. I had the CD with all the pictures in my pocket, and I found some good wine on special offer in the store on the corner. Did I mention before that Christmas was going pretty well so far?

I met Jessica and Orla for lunch. We were all a little sleepy, and a couple of glasses of wine along with spiced soup, fresh, warm bread and sizzling steaks, and we were on the cusp between giggling and taking a nap. Jessica and I sat wrapped around each other on one bench, watching as a spiteful, gusting wind threw rain and sleet against the restaurant window, intent on reminding us that it was winter. People went by, huddled in greatcoats against the cold. Even inside the diner, it was bracing, and we cursed each time a new customer opened the door.

Orla had the blues because her time with us was almost at and end. The only good thing she could find in the situation was that when she left us, she was going to a boat in the Caribbean for Christmas. Every time the sleet hammered on the window, and another torrent flooded down the glass, I was prepared to fight her for the ticket. And I hate boats.

'I could live with being on a beach right now,' I said over coffee. Surprisingly, Jessica checked her watch as if we might have a flight to catch.

'Maybe the next best thing?' she asked. I laughed, and kissed her mouth. It appeared that it was time for the next part of my present. Check, please.

*****

Laine lived about thirty minutes from our place, in a quiet suburb near the river, across a high arching bridge that offers spectacular views - usually of more than driving sleet. She had a modern, three-bedroomed house, nestled deep in the rising hills, which lay ghostly white, covered with frost and snow.

I've known Laine a long time - pretty much as long as I have lived in the city. She and Jessica get on pretty well, but not intimately, or so I thought. I hadn't included her in the list of portraits I had had done, nor on the screensaver. Of the other women in the building, I could only recall her having met Lisa at a party in the club.

So, it was quite a surprise to find myself at her house, some time after lunch. Tizianna drove the three of us out there, but she couldn't stay, apparently, and she turned the Saab around in the drive and went off again, though there was some hint in a whispered exchange between her and Jessica that she would return.

Laine welcomed us at the door; cheeks were kissed, coats were taken, introductions were made. Laine's hospitality is awesome. She served coffee and chocolate cake, found some brandy, and then provided bathrobes, towels and swimming costumes.

The penny dropped. One thing Laine had that our building did not yet provide was a pool. Well, I call it a pool, but what Laine actually owned was a small resort, tucked under glass on the southern side of the house. There was a small plunge pool, a hot tub, showers, a sort of cascade/waterfall thing, and ample decking for chairs, tables and other furniture. It was like a terrace at a very posh hotel.

Now, I'm not particularly a swimming pool sort of guy, but it there is one thing I do enjoy it's women in swimsuits, and it took very little time for me to work out that this was the basis of today's gift/kink. Babes in bikinis. Well, revealing one-piece costumes, actually which seemed to be the inspired choice for the day.

The three women went off to change, while I pulled on a simple pair of shorts, doused myself in warm water from the shower, poured drinks, put on some music and waited. There was a lot of laughter from a distant bedroom, and it took the three of them a suspiciously long time to wriggle into bathing suits. But the wait was worth it.

The three of them tripped onto the terrace like contestants in a Miss World contest, garbed in small fractions of their national flags. The costumes were identical monokinis, with tiny gold ring fastenings between the breasts and at the sides where the high cut sides of the briefs were cross-fastened to the top. Orla's was orange white and green; Jessica's starred-and striped (though even with my lover's generous bust, there was not enough material covering her tits to account for all fifty states), and Laine had a maple leaf on her left breast as part of a red and white design. I looked down at my dark blue shorts, feeling quite unpatriotic, though I did have a pole to fly a flag from.

'Twirl!' Jessica instructed, and they all three showed me the way the costumes were Brazilian cut at the back, exposing a lot more flesh. Laughing, they faced the front once more.

You can already imagine from how I described them earlier that Jessica and Orla fill out a bathing suit very nicely. Laine is petite like my lover; I'd say they were the same height to within an inch. They also share the same bust size, at a guess, or close enough to make no great difference when they were both threatening to spill out of the skimpy tops. If you're a breast man, those two side by side would be nirvana. I really don't think I am, but still.... damn!

Laine's shoulder-length hair is a wild mane of tousled red, not the fiery kind, but quite subtle. She has dark brown eyes, framed by really long lashes, and a sort of shy smile that makes her look quite sweet and innocent. It had been a long time since I had fallen for that act! Her creamy white skin was dappled with freckles across her nose and shoulders. And, judging by all the work that had gone into preparing for this event, she knew Jessica a lot better than I had given credit for!

'Look at his eyes, so!' Orla laughed. 'Paul, I never knew you were such a breast man.'

I genuinely don't think I am, but I did have to admit one truth: 'I think it's different with swimsuits like those, Orla!'

She laughed and fidgeted with the straps at her shoulders. 'Swimsuit, is it? I'm not sure I'd trust this in water.'

'It should be fine,' Laine insisted. 'I wouldn't recommend diving off a high board in one, but...'

Orla decided to test the scaled-down Irish tricolour, and slid into the plunge pool with a shriek of delight. Jessica and Laine came and sat at the same table I occupied, Jessica turning her chair so she could dip her feet into the pool at the foot of the bronze cascade. Through the large panels of window glass along the far wall, I watched a winter storm gather over the hills, and the continuing sleet dash against the glass. The pasture and woodlands close at hand looked frozen, brittle and stiff with rime. Here inside, we were lounging in subtropical splendour, drinking brandy from huge snifters while hidden speakers spoke a little soul, jazz and blues into the room; Martha and the Vandellas, Norah Jones, Robert Cray. Orla did laps of the tiny pool in ten seconds or less, laughing and kicking water up with her feet.

We three watched her, especially when she climbed out of the pool to prove that, though perfectly adequate for bathing, the costumes were truly designed to cling to, emphasise and barely conceal the wearer. She wanted to take it off, but Jessica insisted that as part of the bathing beauties fantasy she had to keep it on. Orla pouted, Jess scolded, and then the instructions were forgotten as my lover proceeded to take Orla's costume off as they lay together on the deck, head to toe, devouring each other's pussies with flicking tongues.

Laine looked at me with an expression that showed she knew we were about to cross a line we hadn't really looked at before. My cock was tenting the front of my shorts, and even if I had been wearing a lot more than a pair of shorts, my arousal would have been no secret. Laine smiled, hesitated and then reached over to close her hand around my erection, stroking up and down the rigid shaft through the straining material. Her eyes kept flicking towards the tangle of female limbs and torsos on the floor, as if worried that Jessica would object, but the only sounds to come from the deck were the diving of tongues, and moans that grew in intensity and volume.

I pulled Laine closer, and as my thumbs hooked under the shoulder straps of her costume, moving them to the side, her breasts spilled out. I kissed her mouth, our tongues danced, and my hands cupped and stroked and squeezed at her big tits as my hands moved all over her generous body. On the floor, Jessica was cumming already.

'Oh God, you mustn't,' sighed Laine, in a voice trembling with emotion, so genuine that I almost hesitated, fearing that I had misread the situation. I rested my cheek against hers, breathing against her hair, and tried to gauge her meaning from her eyes. All the time, she had her hand around my cock, and was pumping it up and down through the tortured cloth of the trunks. That was when I realised that Laine was the kind of woman who - in this situation - has to voice a reluctance her body betrays as false. For a guy, there is nothing more confusing - and very little sexier.

I moved my mouth down and kissed at the upper slopes of her breasts, and then at her nipples, and she sobbed and begged me to stop, but the wave was bearing us up already, and there was no place to go but on. Laine came easily to me, first laying at my side as I pulled the costume off her arms and bodies, and then down over her hips. She had the most gorgeous arse, and I played with her bare skin as she pressed her breasts to my mouth and her pussy mound against the hardness of my penis. The moment the costume hit the floor, and she had pushed my shorts down, she straddled my thighs, and guided her open pussy above my straining cock. I steered the head between her thighs and deep inside her. She rode me vehemently, almost violently, as if seeking to purge all reservation and self-restraint. All the time she was gasping, moaning - 'No, oh no, oh please don't' - as if horrified at just how easily this was happening. Her orgasm was a cry of the most forlorn release, and she held my shoulders so tightly her nails were raking the bone.

After her climax, she could barely look me in the face, but her kisses were as passionate as before, and she tasted herself from the head of my engorged cock. I lifted her up by her hair before she could make me explode, and pressed her forward onto her hands and knees across one of the wooden recliners.

'Oh God!' she sobbed as she felt my cock between her cheeks. 'You mustn't! Oh, please, don't!' But she pressed back the moment she felt my cock nestled against her puckered anus, and paused for but an instant after it had popped through her muscle before she plunged her body back against me. We fucked instinctively, animalistically, bodies driven together, a whirlwind in the hot air of the terrace. She was so loud, so wild, it was hard to know when she orgasmed and then even harder to be certain she would ever stop. Her body reacted to everything instinctively. One touch, and she was aroused, wet. Only the tone of her voice was false; everything else was completely in tune with her sexuality.

I ejaculated deep inside her and we slumped onto our hips, looking over the edge of the recliner as Orla and Jessica writhed together, fingers imbedded in each other, forcing each other to new excesses until they were exhausted. There were small smudges of mascara on Laine's cheekbones; I brushed them away and she smiled.

I climbed back under the shower letting the warm water beat down on my face. Jessica slid into my arms, warm and wet and soft. I plucked short strands of her dyed red hair back from her forehead, bent down and kissed her. She went down onto her knees and bathed my cock in her mouth, letting her fingers run up and down under and between my balls. Her tongue seemed to move over inch of my lower body, from my mid-thighs to my navel. When I couldn't resist any more, I turned her against the wall of the shower and fucked her with long, slow strokes as she balanced on her toes with her palms flat on the tiles. The difference in our heights had always made it difficult for us to make love in positions like this, but today I was so rigid, and she was so wet, and everything was perfect.

'That was a surprise,' I whispered into her ear as we sat by the window afterwards, warm and wrapped in each other's arms as the rain beat down with even greater severity on the glass.

'She couldn't tell you that was what she wanted,' Jessica explained. 'She just needed it to happen, and that was the best way - sudden and without time to think.' Jessica watched my eyes, and ran fingertips along my jaw. 'It was as much her present as yours.'

I smiled. 'It was a worrying moment when she started saying that we shouldn't,' I admitted. Jessica smiled, kissed my mouth tenderly and nodded over to the recliner, where Laine was once more on her knees with her arse raised. Orla crouched behind her, with her face pressed between those rounded cheeks, licking and sucking, diving her tongue in and out of Laine. Our hostess gripped the edge of the chair with her delicate hands hooked, the knuckles white; her breasts swayed as she rocked back on Orla's face.

'Oh God, no!' she sobbed. 'You mustn't... oh, please don't... please...'

*****

Jessica insisted that we all had to get back into our costumes to maintain the fantasy, and so when Tizianna returned early in the evening, we were all relatively decent (as far as those costumes allowed, not to mention the atmosphere of sexuality that hung in the sultry, warm air of the terrace). The four of us were seated in the hot tub, laughing and joking and sipping chilled Sancerre as if it was midsummer. Night had slipped across the hills, and the world outside the window had pulled on its shroud. Tiz suggested that the weather was bad, and that we should not leave it too late getting back in case the roads got any worse.

'Another hour,' Jessica smiled, and she handed our driver a small green box, tied with a red ribbon. Tizianna unwrapped it, all the time looking at the three women in their miniscule finery.

'It's an Italian flag!' Tiz said, laughing as she took the lid off the box. She lifted the costume up for us all to see.

'Very nearly,' I remarked, and we were all laughing together. Tizianna slipped off to change, and the hour passed quickly, as did the next. I don't know how bad the roads were, because the moment I folded into the back seat of the Saab, I fell into the deepest and most satisfied sleep, having fucked all four nationalities (including the USA twice - you know how it is with superpowers). 



Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 08



Part Eight of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Cracking along now; no more than eight months late...

The Twelve Lays of Xmas

Eight Maids A-Milking

Early to bed, early to rise. Well, almost. It's hard work receiving this many presents. Imagine how many thank you notes I have to write.

I made breakfast at about 6am - and far too much of it too, forgetting that only Jessica, Orla and myself were in the apartment. Still, we were all famished, and tucked in with gusto. Lisa must have smelled the food, and let herself in, having come directly from a late, late session at the club.

Orla was a little teary, because this was her last day with us. I have to admit that I was struggling for sympathy, because by nightfall she would be on a luxury boat off the British Virgin Islands, but when I mentioned that, Jessica shot me a warning look. Too late, Orla had a little weep and we all had to stop eating to comfort her. And I hate cold croissants.

'I want to stay!' she kept wailing, but when we said that she could stay as long as she wanted, she reminded us she was due in the British Virgin Islands, and she wanted that so much too. Although she hadn't specifically mentioned it, we assumed that she was meeting up with Padraig, a guy she had strong feelings for. Details were hard to come by, however, because there was the added complication of Christmas, which she was supposed to be spending in Dublin, and I decided not to be the pedant whose job it was to point out that there was less than a week to go. In the hot tub last night, I had tried to explain that the Twelve Days of Christmas was eventually sung backwards, and therefore the gifts were to be given in reverse order, with the Partridge In A Pear Tree given on the last day, Christmas Day. Jessica held me under water in the tub until I surrendered the point.

She went off to pack, with Jessica's help. Lisa glared at me.

'What?' I pleaded.

'You're supposed to say it's all right for Padraig to come here too, if that is what she wants.'

'But it is all right.'

Lisa rolled her eyes. 'She thinks you'd be jealous.'

'I am jealous. The bastard owns a fucking yacht.'

Lisa laughed, but then went back to making a serious point. 'The point of these twelve days, dummy, is that these are Jessica's presents to you. You're the focal point of all this, the main man, the only man. Orla can't just ask for Padraig to be invited; how would that feel? We don't know how he'd feel, or how you'd feel.'

'I haven't been the only man. Tasha's guy was here just the other night.'

Lisa moaned and buttered toast in an aggressive way with her knife. She was not a woman to mess with. 'Sometimes, Paul, you are the most stupid man on the planet.'

Just some of the time?

I went to the bedroom to suggest to Orla that if it in any way worked for her, why didn't she call Padraig and tell him to cash in her ticket for one for himself coming the other way. Jessica shot me a look that suggested that if only Lisa could be trusted not to reveal that it was her idea, I'd have scored big points. Me, I was still baffled. Why would Orla want to stay here instead of the British Virgin Islands? And why was it almost 8am until I could make a joke about Orla on any island with the word 'virgin' in the name without anyone blubbing?

*****

Just before nine, Cat and Diane arrived, in identical maids' outfits, picked out in a stylish charcoal grey. They had avoided following the cliché of the full French Maid thing, with little aprons and lacy caps, but the flouncy skirts were still ridiculously and deliciously short (and worn over white thigh highs), and the necks dangerously and enticingly scooped. There was a great deal of giggling over the fact they were only decent when standing perfectly upright. There was shrieking when I decided to make them indecent even like that, lifting up the skirts to see what underwear they had on (the answer was none).

Then, to my amazement, they cleared up the breakfast things, made the bed and asked where the vacuum was kept.

'Didn't we do the whole maid/slave girl thing?' I asked Jessica as we sat at the table, watching them parade around the living area in their costumes, tidying magazines and flicking feather dusters over the sound system.

'This is nothing to do with your present,' Jessica replied, sounding just as amazed at the sound of her own words as I was. 'Diane is actually our maid now.'

'Really?' If she dressed like this every day, I'd never get any work done at home. 'What about Cat? She has a job already.'

'She took the day off,' Jessica said, with a laugh and a shrug, as if that could possibly explain everything. We watched for a while longer. Apparently the two of them were prepared to clean the house in some kind of mad feather duster contest, just for the pleasure of knowing we were watching their tits jiggle and their pussies flash. Every now and then they dusted each other.

Orla spent an hour on the phone, at the end of which she was much happier, except that there was some kind of passport/ticket emergency which meant she had to get to the airport. Luckily, Tizianna was able to come over earlier to collect her, and even more luckily, we didn't have to go with her to help sort it out.

'So,' I asked. 'What's on the menu for today?'

'Funny you should ask,' Jessica said. 'I thought we could have dinner.'

'Out?' Was sex in a restaurant bathroom one of my 'kinks'? Jessica and I had certainly done that a few times. There was one place on the other side of the city we would never be able to visit again. Seriously; there was a court order.

'The hell with that,' Jessica laughed. 'I've never had domestic staff before.' Her eyes twinkled. 'We'll have people over, and get messy.'

*****

It took all day to make the dinner party happen. We started making calls. Tasha's cell was off; Jess left a message, then another saying that if she wanted the guy to come too, that would be fine. I called Katherine and Laurie; Laur said Kath was working, but she would come alone, if that was OK. We debated the Charity situation, but decided not to involve some new Dom we hadn't met. Other names were debated and called - Emma and Elizabeth were both free, and so was Laine. Padraig couldn't possibly get here in time, unless dessert was delayed a long time, but Orla would still be here (which was all the dessert he ought to want).

Planning the menu took Jessica two hours alone, and then she had to find people to cater it at ten hours notice. I went out to buy wine. When I came back, Jessica was just getting off the phone.

'Who's Cristal?' she asked, waving the card I had been given the day before.

'She's been doing some photographic work for me,' I explained.

Jessica sucked her lip, devilment on her face. 'Is she cute?' I nodded. 'Good. I just invited her too.'

You'll have noticed that there is no easy way a girl-boy-girl-boy seating plan with the likely guest list. Jessica still had to spend time working everything out, though, to some scheme I couldn't quite fathom. The important thing appeared to be keeping Cristal, Tizianna, Emma and Laine apart. I spent a lot of time wondering what these four had in common, and couldn't crack it.

'So, what was written on today's cards, and who drew them?'

Jessica laughed at my impatient curiosity and insisted I had to wait. Patience has never been my strong point. I tried molesting my woman, but she wasn't telling. I tried molesting Cat, but Jessica had seen through the possibility of that and hadn't explained anything to the maids. Something had them in a state of excitment, though; they went off to the bedrooms to change the beds (again) at midday and they were gone a long time.

Orla got back at about two, and looked more like her normal self. Padraig would be flying in tomorrow, though I gathered that they wouldn't be staying long (the islands had to be a better place to be than a snow-bound city, though my own little piece of the city was a lot hotter these days). She caught up on plans for the evening, and those seemed to make her even more excited (if that was possible). Tizianna was instructed on who she needed to pick up and vanished again. I watched TV for an hour, and then watched the maids help Jessica get the place just right, which was more entertaining, because they had to do a lot reaching up and bending over and suchlike.

The afternoon seemed to drag, all the same, which is something I never thought I would admit. I went to get changed at about five thirty. Seeing as the dress code was casual (I wore my grey combat jeans and a pristine white t-shirt), that took a lot less time than I expected, which meant it was down to me to hassle the caterers, who arrived at about 7.30pm. They were a humourless bunch. A rather butch woman from the Balkans (I'm guessing - but she sounded Bulgarian, and had almost as much facial hair as I did) was in charge of the crew, and bullied the poor lads and lasses mercilessly. She criticised the size of our fridge, our cooker, our work surfaces, and the fact that the maids were a severe distraction to her staff; her crew were most interested in the two maids. If Jessica hadn't been in the bedroom getting changed, she would probably have invited a few of them to stay. Meantime, Ms Bulgaria left me detailed instructions on which heaps of food were to be served at what time, instructions I forgot after about three minutes.

As our guests arrived, and Cat and Diane squabbled over who was taking coats, I started to realise that 'casual dress' meant something different in Jessica's mind. She and Orla appeared in little more than lingerie. Jess wore a backless, one-piece mesh body that made no secret of her tits (they weren't exactly confidential at the best of times) with a pair of loose-fitting pants; Orla had chosen a scooped black bra-top, and a lacy skirt worn over and revealing black panties. They both appeared taller, balancing on spiked heels that caused a lot of laughing.

Few of the guests were quite so undressed, though Laine had a peach mini-skirt and bandeau top that was fighting to contain her tits. Tizianna had brought a change of clothes with her (although I was developing quite a fondness for that driver's uniform), but then negotiated to borrow some lingerie from Orla and Jess, feeling out of place (and over-dressed in jeans and linen blouse). Cristal arrived in a smart tailored suit that made her feel instantly out of place, and she unfastened a few buttons on her blouse in the first five minutes, trying to blend in.

So, there we were, we seven (nine, if you include Diane and Cat, who were really taking the maid thing seriously, tottering around on incredible spiked heels, serving drinks and little pastry entrees). I found myself seated on one side of our square table; Orla and Laine were on my right, Jessica and Emma opposite, while Cristal and Tiz were on the left. Lauren still hadn't arrived by 8.30pm, so we decided to press on without her.

You haven't met Emma before, so let me do the honours. Jessica met Emma at some work function, and they became friends as a result. Emma wasn't a regular caller at the building, and I had only met her once or twice at social events, but she was bright enough to have caught onto the kind of lifestyle Jessica lives. Sometime recently, she expressed the opinion that she would love to come to one of our parties. Actually, I think she told me before she told Jessica... and she had been working her hand across my cock at the time.

So, as you can gather, she is not a shy woman. 

We enjoyed a light vegetable starter, and then some grilled chicken and lightly-cooked vegetables for the main course. As usual, the food was light, and though it was delicious and took the edge of everyone's hunger, no-one felt too full after.

The main delight, though, was still to come. A vast collection of dessert dishes were brought to the table, puffy souflees, profiteroles covered in cream, light mousses. There was whipped cream, and chocolate and strawberry sauces on all sides. Our guests were thrilled, and there was a great deal of laughter, and feeding from fingers. Not everyone was eating from their own fingers, either.

I managed to catch Jessica's attention for a brief moment, while I was finding more wine.

'Is that tonight's theme? A food fight?'

'Food and fucking,' Jessica purred. She kissed my cheek. 'Actually, that isn't really what tonight is all about; it just got added at the last moment.' I nodded, having thought to myself that I had never shown any interest in licking chocolate sauce off anyone before, though the idea was growing on me. 'Actually, it's more about inexperienced lesbians... 'first time' girl on girl... that kind of thing.'

That sounded more like my kind of fun, though in a slightly exagerrated non-participation sort of way. I looked around our guests and saw what Jessica had tried to achieve - Tizianna, I knew, had hesitantly experienced her first girl-on-girl fucking with Orla, Jessica and Lisa less than a week ago; Laine, I had observed yesterday, was also very inexperienced with women, and although she had let Orla eat her, she had not been prepared to repay the compliment so far. Emma, from what Jessica had described, was bi-curious in the worst way, and Cristal had confessed her desire the same way.

Jessica had clearly been trying to pair them up with friends she knew would allow them to explore this side of their sexuality. It hadn't been that long since Orla had been the same, nervously exploring her bi side. Lisa and Tasha would have made perfect companions for this, but Lisa had to open the club tonight, and Tasha hadn't called back. Jessica and Orla were going to have to handle this themselves. Thinking back to how excited and giggly they had been all day, I could see that they were prepared for the challenge. I guess they could always call on the staff to help.

'Well, you did promise me a ringside seat at a lot more lesbian sex,' I laughed. 'But what happens if I get needy?'

'You do have two half-naked maids!' Jessica scolded. 'Isn't that enough, damn man?'

Well, yes, she had a point. I couldn't exactly complain, could I?

Dessert progressed. Orla was the first to suggest that the chocolate sauce and cream worked very well together, especially when licked off a bare breast. She carefully folded down the cup of her bra, and painted her nipples with cold cream. Slowly, falteringly, Laine bent down and licked it off.

The atmosphere in the room changed dramatically.

Diane and Cat fussed around the table for a while, bringing different desserts to the various pairings, suggesting what to eat, or who to eat, and with what accompanying dish. Chairs were pressed closer together, bodies uncovered and smeared with sticky confections. I sat back, leaning against the wall and drinking cold Sancerre while I and watched the feast.

Jessica had Emma's dress up around her waist, and was fingering her pussy with fingers slick with chocolate mousse, nuzzling her neck with wet lips as Emma closed her eyes and moaned softly through her gritted teeth. She put her feet up onto the table and pressed her hips onto Jess' hand, whatever reluctance she had expressed to Jessica in the past abandoned in the moment. Her own hand lay on Jessica's stockinged thigh, stroking and squeezing at my lover's leg, the fingers flexing almost automatically. Fingers squelched and slithered in her wet hole.

Orla persuaded Laine to plant her rounded little arse on the edge of the table, and pushed her miniscule skirt out of the way. She smeared whipped cream over Laine's mound, spreading it with her fingers as if she was soaping the smooth skin to shave it, then crouched down at the side of the table and lapped it all off with soft touches of her tongue. Laine sat still, looking down, drinking in every movement, every touch, with her eyes. I recalled how she had surrendered so deliciously to Orla licking a different kind of cream from her rear the day before, and the memory sent shivers up my spine.

And on the third side of the table, my eyes alighted on Tizianna and Cristal, who both looked a little out of place just at the moment. Cristal, in particular, was fidgetting extremely nervously, her hands gripping at a napkin held in her lap. Her long brown hair swept across her face as she tilted her head down, eyes lifted so as not to miss anything. Tizianna had a more haunted, passionate, needy expression on her face, but didn't know how to proceed from where things stood. Her eyes flickered from each of the couples across the table, back to Cristal, as if trying to pick a moment out of the air.

I had my hands under the skirts of our 'maids'. Their attention was elsewhere.

'We really ought to lend a hand,' whispered Cat.

'Go on, then,' I sighed.

'We'll just get them started,' Diane insisted, as if that was possible.

Jessica, still working her fingers deeply in Emma's pussy, looked across at me with a "them's the breaks" grin on her face, and then focussed once more on bringing Emma to an exhilharting, rapid climax. Emma was panting more and more deeply, thrusting her fingers harder onto Jess' fingers, jerking in the chair. She was taking to lesbian sex like a duck to water, which would have made a lesser man suspicious that this really was her first time. I, on the other hand, knew that when Jessica was involved there was a very thin line between being almost bi, and being way into sapphic sex. Not long after I had met her, she had told me that her home town was the bi capital of the USA; having lived with her for a while, I could be sure that any town she lived in would take the title very quickly. When she visited Las Vegas, the city blushed.

Laine gradually leaned back on the table, surrendering her pussy to Orla's probing tongue. Even as she started to climax, she was still holding a hand to Orla's head as if trying to push her away, and crying 'no, no' in a breathless voice. Her face was a picture; a portrait of what would almost pass for panic as she realised nothing was going to stop Orla, or the feelings that were welling up inside her. At the same moment Emma let out a lingering moan of pleasure, Laine screamed out 'stop! oh, please, stop!' and exploded in orgasm.

Hmmmm... suddenly I was hungry again.

Off to the side, the maids had helped Tiz and a rather more reluctant Cristal out of most of their clothes. Tizianna was extremely aroused, shifting from foot to foot on shiny black pumps, her tanned legs swishing against each other, thighs stroking deliciously. She hadn't had a lot of clothes to remove, but Diane had taken off her bra, leaving her in just a tiny pair of panties. She looked damn fine; fit, lean, supple. Her nipples were as hard as bullets, and she was leaning back against Diane's body, sighing.

Diane's hands and eyes travelled all over our driver's body, drinking her in, experiencing every inch of her. Such close and intimate attention brought Tizianna into a state of considerable arousal.

'I am so wet,' she said, in a luxuriant voice, full of desire and emotion. As before, I noticed her need to express everything out loud, in her full and rounded Italian accent. 'I need so much to feel a woman's touch, to know this amor. I have tasted, but not nearly enough.'

Just as intense, but with much less to say about it, Diane slid her hand down the front of Tiz's panties, whispering hotly into her ear, telling her without words that she would eat her fill tonight, pressing her fingertips onto Tiz's clit through the skimpy cloth of her thong. Tizianna stretched, straightened, as rigid as a board, then slumped into Diane's embrace as if she had fainted. Diane's wrist flexed as she fisted the diminutive Italian deeply.




Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 08



In contrast to this almost Gothic romance, Cats was trying to seduce Cristal through persistant playfulness. She dipped her fingers in whipped cream, touched them to Cristal's neck, then licked off the cream like a kitten. She giggled, she flirted. Poor Cristal, on the other hand, looked like a rabbit frozen between a pair of headlamps, wide-eyed, tense and immobile. I wondered if I was supposed to rescue her.

Luckily, Jessica had seen the problem even quicker than I, and she kissed Emma on the cheek, extricated her sticky fingers from the girl's pussy and came round the table to whisper to Cats. With a small pout of her elfin face, Cats turned away from Cristal with a sway of her hips. Jessica and Cristal went off to find brandy and glasses, and to converse softly in a darkened corner of the kitchen.

Things shifted, tableaux breaking and reforming effortlessly as partners changed. As soon as she had recovered her breath, Emma joined Orla in undressing Laine, who was now spread across the tablecloth, writhing under the dual assault. Orla would plant a small piece of fruit somewhere on Laine's body, and Emma would pluck it off with her lips; then Laine crushed a handful of berries on her fist, dribbing juice on the tops of her thighs and over her mound, and both women drank it from her, making her shriek with delight. Orla remarked that fruit dipped in Laine's pussy took on an even more wonderful taste, and she and Emma experimented with the contents of the table. Laine, cupping her own breasts to lick cream from her nipples, seemed to be in almost constant state of orgasm. Her shrieks of pleasure punctuated every other sound in the room.

Tiz and Diane were stripped almost bare (it had happened so fast I completely missed the transformation), writhing on the floor, sticky and slick with yoghurt, cream and chocolate sauce. They lay head to toe, sucking at each other's pussies. I noticed they had taken off their clothes to avoid staining them with chocolate, but apparently it was all right to make a mess of our floor. This is why we can never have carpet, and why we scotchguard the furniture twice a year.

Cats had dropped onto her knees and disappeared under the table. I lost track of her for a moment or two, but then up she popped, between my knees, working my zipper down with long-nailed fingers. I felt her warm mouth slip over the end of my cock as she extracted it, and then slow slide of her lips down my hardened prick. In no time at all, she was pumping her mouth down on my cock, one hand curled lightly around the base. Her other hand played lightly across my ball sack.

The other women had recombined in new partnmerships and situations. Orla drank champagne off Tizianna's breasts, and then used the neck of the empty bottle in the Italian's pussy. Tiz, laying on her back with her thighs spread wide, called out in her native tongue, and thrust her pussy against the cool bottle. Then she begged for a taste of Orla's pussy, and our wicked Irish guest slowly lowered herself onto Tiz's face, feeding her hunger. Their voices rose in a single crescendo as they urged each other on towards orgasm.

Emma and Laine, strangers to each other not an hour or two before, were now fingering each other madly, their bodies soaked in wine and sticky sauces, rolling on the chaos of the table, their holes given over to each other. Then Emma swung around, and they pressed their soaked, messy pussies together, riding their lips together, kissing at the same time as they fucked.

Finally, Diane came over to join Cat and I, and while Cat sucked me, I pulled Diane against me, and stretched around to slip a finger into her ass while I licked at her pussy. She came hard, screaming as I put a second finger in her rear, and nibbled across her clit. Even Cat seemed to be on the verge of crying out with pleasure, even though her mouth was full.

I say "finally", but in fact the night continued in a similar vein for about another hour. Cat brought me off in  her mouth, and then I fucked her and Diane alternately, moving from pussy to pussy as they leaned over the table, until I was unable to hold back any more. It felt that, among the women, everyone had fucked everyone else, and the table, the floor and various other surfaces were going to need a lot of cleaning in the morning.

I left them taking turns in the guest shower, and went to the main bedroom, weary and looking forward to a lengthy sleep after cleaning off what felt like equal measures of dessert and female cum. As soon as I stepped through the door, I realised that it wasn't time to sleep just yet. Jessica had her head buried between Cristal's thighs, and was licking and sucking at her clit. Cristal was completely naked, and lay on her back, hips raised on a pillow, her head thrashing from side to side. Her eyes flickered open as she heard me approach, and when I kissed her mouth it was evident that she had already had her lips on my woman's pussy. Whatever Cristal felt she had been missing out on, she was deprived no longer. She pleased with me to fuck her, in a voice that had lost all control, and which sounded raw and hoarse from screaming.

As Jessica lifted her head, I rolled Cristal onto her belly. She pleaded pitiously not to be taken in the ass, so I filled her soaked pussy with my cock while she ate Jessica out once more. Cristal was panting as she licked, calling out "yeah, yeah!" with every exhale, which only spurred my lover to a deeper and harder orgasm.

After I spurted in Cristal, listening to her screaming so loud she almost rattled the bedroom windows, I more or less died where I lay, spooned against her back, with Jessica wrapped around me from behind in turn. We slept in the same position all night, exhausted and spent, and glued together by melted chocolate and other sweet things!



Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 09



Part Nine of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. I'm sorry Part 8 got posted before Part 7 - technical problem.

* * * * *

The Twelve Lays of Xmas

Nine Ladies Dancing

I can't tell you just how exhausted we all were the following morning. I don't recall what time I woke up, but Cristal had already dressed and gone. Jessica pointed out a message of thanks she had left on the bedroom mirror. It took me several minutes to decipher the scrawl.

Neither of us could face even looking out into the living area, so we took a long soak in the tub together, cleaning each other off with sponges and exfoliating gel, then getting a little messy again under the water. I was so spent still from the previous night - from the previous eight days too - that I couldn't cum, but Jessica and I rolled under the bath foam, fucking gently, petting and kissing, playing until we were in danger of being waterlogged.

Eventually, prompted by noise from the rest of the apartment, we dared look out from the main bedroom. We were amazed. Cat had called in the clean-up crew from the same firm that had catered dinner, and although they raised a few eyebrows at just how much mousse and chocolate sauce had found its way from the bowls to the floor, they had washed and stacked and straightened; they took away the table linen to be cleaned, and had done their best to save some soft furnishing that had suffered. By the time we came out from our hiding place, our apartment was almost recognisable. Our new maid, Diane, slept through it all, wrapped in a sheet on the couch. Still, she had worked hard the night before.

Orla flashed through, in a panic, late to meet Padraig's flight. I heard the front door crash closed behind her.

'Was it me, or was she naked under that coat?' I asked. I hadn't turned around fast enough to be sure. Jessica laughed, and nodded. Orla hadn't had time to get dressed, it seemed, although by the time she got to the airport, we knew she would have turned the situation into a deliberate plan to surprise him. Maybe the cab driver would get a pleasant surprise too, when she came to settle the fare, because we found she had left her purse on the sideboard.

I took Jessica to breakfast, or lunch, or whatever, and we slowly worked through a light meal, and then came back to the apartment to nap. It must have been four or five before we emerged for the second time that day. By that time, the cleaning crew, Diane and the more evident signs of the previous night's debauchery were all gone.

'Do you think Orla's back?' Jessica asked, listening at the door to the guest bedroom. She jumped back as we heard a loud, delighted squeal, and what sounded like a spanking in progress. Padraig was presumably dealing with her for either her being late, flashing the cab driver, or both. Orla was giggling loudly and taking her punishment like a woman, if you know what I mean.

'I'll leave them a note,' Jessica suggested.

'We're going out?' I asked. My lover grinned her most wicked grin.

'Nine ladies dancing,' she purred, on her way back to our bedroom to get changed.

I wa so tired, I might have settled for 'nine ladies watching TV and sitting very quietly', but there was something in my beautiful lover's expression that ensured that a couple of hours later I found the strength to find my jacket, keys and wallet, and to follow Jessica out the door.

*****

'A lap-dancing club?' I laughed.

'Definitely one of your kinks,' Jessica insisted. 'Don't deny it.'

I really couldn't; Jess knew the truth. About three months before, we had been to a club together. The women had been hot, but I guess I am one of those guys who can only look but not touch for so long, and we had to leave before I did something to get us thrown out. We had stumbled into a deserted side street at the back of the club, and fucked in a frenzy on the lawn of someone's walled front garden, unable to wait until we got home. It had been that good, Jessica taked about getting us some kind of membership to the club, but nothing had happened about that, to my knowledge. Can you imagine explaining it to Lisa?

Tonight's venue was a different place. It appeared to be one of those 'by invite only, word of mouth' places, with a very discrete sign at the door of what appeared to be a small converted mall. There were uniformed security staff inside, and a coat-check counter, and then we were through into the main bar and stage area, which was over-looked on three sides by a balcony. Jessica whispered to a thin-faced guy with gelled hair and make-up, and we were instantly shown to a table near the stage. Loud music boomed through the room, some trashy garage-sample-whatever.

An act was already in progress, though the night was young. It had taken us about forty-five minutes to find this place, which was some ways out of town, and approached by a narrow road that wound through some hills, and came down towards the river. Whoever had had the foresight to build a small mall out here was some specialised kind of genius, and I found out later that it had gone out of business in eighteen months, leaving a reasonably spacious building that had been snapped up by a mystery consortium. They, in turn, leased it to the people running the club. I wondered who they were.

Well, not for long I didn't. The first act wasn't that great - don't ask me why, she just didn't light my fire at all - but then we ordered some drinks, scooched our chairs a little closer together, and when a searing riff introduced some more palatable music, we glanced up at the stage. An invisible MC came over the sound system to announce that the next act on stage would be 'a special guest, premiering at the club for the first time - ladies and gentlemen, your appreciation, please, for Chloe!'.

The room lights dimmed, and Chloe came out onto the runway from behind a red curtain, high-stepping forward on high spikes, dressed in a gauzy purple nightie that showed off her supple curves. Unusally for a girl at one of these clubs, she didn't appear to have a bra on under the nightie, and as she stepped forwards her breasts shifted and swayed and rolled seductively. It was hard to be sure in the contrasting dark and light of the stage, but there was just a hint of dark nipple showing through the sheer material.

She had shoulder-length dark hair, and long slender limbs - at a guess, I would have said she was maybe five-six or five-seven in height, though prancing forward up on stage in those heels she seemed taller. She danced naturally, with none of the practised artifice of the girl who had been on before, but when Chloe took to the pole that rose from the centre of the stage, it was clear that she knew exactly what she was doing. Her first jump took her cleanly onto the polished metal pole, and she spiralled down in one slow, graceful movement.

She was good, this "first-timer." But even more than that, she was intriguing. She wasn't there to strip - she wore next to nothing already, but right from the very beginning it was clear she intended to keep on what little she had arrived in. She was just there to dance, and be admired. Oh, and one other thing: to complete the mystery of this act, she wore a mask - one of those, sequinned, satin, masquerade things that barred the top half of her face, with two small ovals cut for her eyes.

As my eyes ran up and down her body, I wondered who she was. Even with the mask, it was evident she must be pretty. Her hair tossed from side to side as she turned and swayed. Her cheeks were full, her lips generous, framing even white teeth. She had a strong chin, and a beguiling, confident smile. In fact, for a moment, I wondered if she wasn't someone we knew, someone familiar.

I turned briefly to question Jessica about that, but my girlfriend was in no mood for conversation. She was leaning back in her chair, a glass of chilled white wine to her wet lips, eyes bright and shining. She had crossed her legs at the knee, and her thighs were squeezed tight. I knew the signs; Jessica had the hots for this dancer.

Chloe approached the pole, peeking around it at the audience, coyly engaging their eyes with a glance and a smile. She took hold of the pole with both hands, and slowly slid down, bending her knees until she was squatting. She came back up, the pole sliding between her thighs. She repeated the move, this time turning around the pole as she went up and down. The nightie rode up to show off her firm, taut buttocks and a tiny pair of purple panties. Jessica whimpered and spilled her wine.

Chloe jumped up, and wrapped one leg about the pole, spinning with her head thrown back so far her hair brushed the floor. She climbed, turned, span, caressing the pole with her hands. One time, she pressed her forehead against the pole as she climbed up its length, her breath misting the chrome as she worked her way up.

The act lasted three or four minutes, with various acrobatic moves around the pole, My instincts had been right - Chloe left the stage still wearing the purple nightie and matching panties she had arrived in. Some of the sparse crowd slow-hand-clapped; one guy even booed. But a few of us realised we had witnessed something out of the ordinary, something much more erotic for being unconventional, and we gave her plenty of applause to drown out the others. Jessica tried to give the dancer the kind of loud, piercing whistle that can hail a cab at a half mile range, but it came out as an almost silent peep.

'She was good,' I said, leaning over to speak loudly into Jessica's ear as the sound system cranked up for the next act (a pneumatic blonde with big teeth, big hair and big feet; I won't tell you what Jessica said that meant).

'Mmmm,' was my lover's only reply, a soft purr that suggested she dare not open her mouth in case she was caught panting with lust. She looked up at the blonde, squirming in her seat, but it was obvious to me she was remembering Chloe, not the Pammy-wannabe.

The blonde was going through the motions, in an entirely predictable way, stripping off clingy shorts to reveal bright red panties. She bent forward in front of our table, teasing the panties down from her broad ass, and I would have bet money that there was a g-string under the panties. It was pole-dancing by the numbers, which I started to realise wasn't anything that does anything for me at all. If I could have spanked that wiggling backside, or maybe licked...

See, this is what got me thrown out last time.

'Let's take a walk,' Jessica suggested, slipping a ten into the girl's panties almost as automatically as the girl had shaken her ass to ask for it. We left the table and climbed a curving staircase to the balcony that looked down on the stage. Up here, as well as some dimly-lit tables against the railing which looked down on the lower floor, there were booths against the walls which offered greater privacy. Two or three girls were patrolling up here, stopping at the tables to offer private dances, or leaning into the booths to talk to whatever patrons were hidden back there.

They were doing OK business for so early in the night, but the club had a tired, predictable atmosphere about it. I'd seen sexier goings-on any number of nights at Lisa's place. There had been one time when Lisa, Tasha and Jessica had done a strip on the bar that had brought the place to a stand-still. The moment it finished, there were so many dry mouths in the place, Lisa doubled the night's takings.

We watched a better act from a couch set at one of the balcony tables. A lively red-head called Lucy had taken the stage, who at least threw a little energy into her act. Actually, that was unfair - she was better than that implies; skillful, imaginative and supple. Her clothes seemed to fall away without her having to unbutton a thing.

A couple of times, we were approached by the lithe, leggy women working up there; Jessica politely declined all offers on our behalf. All, that is, bar one. About forty minutes after her act, Chloe came up onto the balcony. She moved along the carpetted floor in her spiked heels, in that sinuous, seductive way in which she had arrived on stage. A few male voices called to her from private booths, but she didn't so much as turn her dark-maned head. Instead, she came directly to our table, leaning onto the surface with her hands pressed flat, moving as if to kiss Jessica on the mouth, but then pulling back at the last moment. Her eyes flashed behind the mask.

'Hi, Chloe; I'm Jessica,' my lover purred, her voice low and wicked with intent. 'This is Paul.'

Chloe smiled, and piroutted along the table, coming so close to me I could feel the hem of her gauzy nightie brush my hand, and her perfume filled my mouth and nose. In my head, I was already imagining Jessica and me fucking in an alley. I tried to recover a little composure by taking a drink of over-priced Shiraz.

'We saw your act,' I commented. 'It was... very good.' Inwardly, I cursed myself for sounding so lame, but Chloe just bit her lip, her eyes flickering closed and then open behind the mask She leaned forward, and I glimpsed the soft shape of her small breasts down the neckline of the nightie.

'Would you dance for us?' asked Jessica, holding out a twenty. Chloe nodded and took the payment. I wondered for a moment if we were about to move to one of the more private booths, but Chloe went straight into her routine, climbing onto the table as Jessica huddled closer to me on the soft cushions of the sofa. I slid my arms around my lover, and she rested her head on my shoulder as Chloe danced for us. jess was trembling almost from the first movement.

She started on her knees, dancing like a slave-girl at some Roman orgy, swaying from side to side, her hips shifting, her supple torso bending like a reed in the wind. She pushed her hair up at the sides and then let it fall along her upper arms as she twisted them above her head. Then she leaned forward, her head up, looking us directly in the eyes as she swayed closer, the neckline on her nightie dipping provocatively.

She turned onto her back on the table, kicking her feet in the air, and letting her head dip down off the edge of the table, so that her hair brushed over our thighs. She rolled gracefully to the side, and her feet lowered to the floor; in the same movement she turned her back to us and bent forward, thrusting her barely-covered rump towards us, swaying it right and left over Jessica's knees, then pumping it up and down over my lap. She turned once more, and straddled us, find a space for her feet in the tangle of our legs, and leaning over us, so that the scent rising from her breasts was strong enough to taste.

Up close, I could see into her eyes, which were an electric lavender-blue colour, or so they appeared behind the mask. Her smile broadened; she was having a good time, it was obvious, doing this for so much more than just a folded banknote. More than once, a small moan escaped her full lips, and there was something personal in her smile, and once again, something so familiar. The more she danced, the more I was positive we knew "Chloe". If she had spoken, I would have known at once, I was sure of it, and it occured to me that she had deliberately said nothing. And there was the mask. My mind, in as much as it could concentrate on anything other than the dancer, reached the inevitable conclusion.

The dance ended almost as suddenly as it had begun, and Chloe span away, off down the carpetted balcony, skipping between the out-stretched hands of other patrons, ignoring all offers. She descended the staircase quickly, and vanished into the throng on the floor of the club.

'Come with me,' hissed Jessica.

Two minutes later, we were in a stall in the gents, Jessica leaning against the back wall, while I stood precariously astride the bowl, pressed between her soft thighs. My black combat pants were around my ankles; Jessica had her skirt around her waist and her torn panties were on the floor. She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tight, while I worked her hips up and down in my hands, my cock spearing her pussy over and over. She bit her lip, and then my shoulder, to keep from screaming out loud, but still the moans poured from her lips, and she came in a furious wave of pleasure, locking her legs around me, plunging her pussy up and down on my cock. We kissed so hard I couldn't feel my own mouth.

I spurted deep inside her, filled her with my semen. We cried out together, held tight, joined so closely. Jessica held onto me for what seemed like an age afterwards, little electric shocks quivering through her pussy lips. Every time one of us shivered with pleasure, it set the other one off.

We stayed at the club for maybe another hour, but nothing else quite provided the stimulus that Chloe's act had (though, intriguingly, we bumped into the red-head, Lucy, and enjoyed a very sexy whispered conversation that led to her being given the address of Lisa's club). The mystery dancer didn't appear again, and I wondered if I would ever work out who it was. When I quizzed Jessica about it, it was obvious she knew; obvious that this had been planned for some time. It was even more obvious that she really liked Chloe, and that this had been a present she had arranged for herself as much as for me.

'You think we will see her again soon?' I asked.

'It's not Christmas yet,' Jessica replied.



Twelve Lays of Xmas Ch. 10



Part Ten of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Eleven is about 80% finished, but here is where I hit a wall for a while. Work, y'know?

Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise - well - you know who you are. Oh, and Happy Birthday, baby.

* * * * *

The Twelve Lays of Xmas

Ten Lords A'Leaping

The apartment was still and peaceful the following morning. I left Jessica lying in bed, curled in the warm centre of our divan, a faint smile on her face. In the middle of the night, I had awoken to find her buried under the duvet, licking at my cock, her tongue like a little kitten's. Not that I have ever had a kitten do that... well, not there. I wasn't even sure if Jess was awake, or merely enacting some oral fantasy in her dreams, but then, from under the covers, in the darkness of the night, I heard her murmur that she wanted me to enjoy her mouth, and I did, slowly, until the need ebbed up in me, and flowed into her.

Outside, snow had settled deeply, and the streets were hushed. In the apartment, all I could hear was the ticking of the clock, and the faint hum of the coffee-maker. I read yesterday's paper at the table, drank coffee and orange juice, ate toast, and felt good, in a distracted and exhausted kind of way.

There came a scratching at the door, and I thought it was Minx, who had taken to prowling the corridors of the building late at night (though we had not yet provided her with a key for the lift). It turned out to be a different minx: Lisa. She had worked late, snatched an hour or two on the sofa in her office downstairs in the club, and had now paused to see if there was breakfast at our place before going back to her own apartment for some more serious rest.

She was a little put out by the fact that Jessica had gone out to another club last night, but the details put her in a better mood, especially when I was able to tell her that I thought Jessica had found her a dancer she could employ. Lisa's club isn't a table-dancing club - though there is a small stage for live acts - but the mood can get pretty raunchy down there, and she likes to have entertainment to get the clientele in the mood to party. Very often, the entertainment would consist of her, Tasha and Jessica, costumes optional. Those were the partiest of party nights.

Lisa joined me in the kitchen, drank black coffee and ate mountains of unbuttered toast. We talked around several subjects with lengthy pauses in between. At some point, we both became aware of conversation from behind the door of the guest room - Orla and Padraig must have woken. I mentioned to Lisa that we hadn't seen much of them since Padraig arrived.

Lisa grew suddenly irritable, and went off to see if Jessica was awake. I didn't know what was wrong, and I was aware enough of Lisa's temper to know that I didn't need to be in front of it. I read the sports pages, which is what a man is supposed to do in a time of crisis like this. It was the weekend. I had been thinking about going to see the football, but I wasn't sure how that would work with Jessica's plans.

So, while I waited for people to reappear, I did a very un-guy-like thing and wrapped presents. Well, in truth, what I did was put some of the presents I had bought into nice gift bags that I had also bought, and attached appropriate labels. Then I went to put the gifts under the tree.

Shit.

I am something of a traditionalist about Christmas. The tree goes up twelve days before, and comes down twelve days after Christmas (clearing the decks for my birthday, since you asked). Jessica would have the house decorated for Christmas from about mid-July, and there were a few festive ornaments about the apartment and a wreath on the door. We just didn't have a tree. Was that supposed to have been my job? Why does no-one ever remind me of these things?

Coat, boots and scarf. Keys and wallet. I remembered there was a place a block down that had had trees last week. I'd be gone half an hour, tops.

*****

Two o'clock that afternoon, I was in the lift going up to our floor, holding onto our festive Norwegian tree. It would have been marginally less effort to have gone to Norway to get it, but I had the damn thing, and I had felt extraordinarily festive humping the damn thing along the street. T'is the season to be grumpy. I wondered who would be available to help decorate it.

The lift stopped before our floor, and in stepped Tasha, looking marginally bemused to find me there struggling with greenery. She pressed the button for my floor, and I realised she wasn't dressed to go out.

'You on your way to our place?' I asked, pushing foliage out of the way.

'Uh huh,' she replied, with a nod and a smile.

'You want to help dress the tree?'

She laughed, her voice musical. 'Maybe,' she answered. She made some suggestions about what could be done with Christmas balls that had nothing to do with evergreen foliage and pine needles.

She held the lift doors open while I man-handled the tree out, and along the corridor. I gave her my keys to unlock the apartment door, but Jessica was already opening it. She took one look at me struggling down the hall with the tree, and burst out laughing.

'So that is where you've been,' she said. 'It took you long enough.' I started to explain about the enormous city-wide shortage of suitable forests, but she cut me off. 'No, I mean you should have bought this weeks ago.'

I got the thing into the apartment, and we dug out a wooden tub that we had used the year before from the closet. With some wooden wedges and a lot of swearing, I got the tree upright in the corner by the window, over-looking the street. As I looked out, it struck me how many windows in the building across the street had lights twinkling in them already. Had they been there this morning? Damn, I had been distracted the last few days. But, hell, we all celebrate the season in our own way.

'The ornaments are in the storage room,' Jessica reminded me. I left her and Tasha in the apartment and went off to the basement to fetch the box.

Twenty minutes or so later, I was back at the apartment. The door was latched, and I had to knock, because Tasha had taken my keys, of course.

Jessica answered the door, and before I could speak, she whispered: 'sssh', and in the same movement by which she guided me inside, she slipped her hands over my eyes. I barely had time to recognise that the apartment was almost pitch black, save for some Christmas lights which had been hastily strewn around the window, and a string of pale amber lights which snaked a path across the floor towards the couch. Someone was sitting there.

'Who -?'

'Ssssh!' Jessica slid a broad silk ribbon over my eyes in place of her hands, and tied it at the back of my head. She took the box from my hands while I stood with my back to the door. The ribbon was just gauzy enough that I could see the trail of amber lights curving off across the room in front of me.

'What?'

'Follow the lights,' Jessica whispered, and I heard a whisper of more silk, and my memory chipped in with the information that my lover had been dressed in little more than her blue silk robe when she answered the door. I caught a whiff of her perfume, and - was that my imagination? - other exotic and sensual scents.

It was actually quite bizarre to find myself setting off into the invisible space of the apartment, guided only by the half-viewed lights on the floor. Hardly another detail was visible, except for the outline of the unlit lamp by the window, its steel stand reflecting the Christmas lights. The couch, well, I am sure I mostly just imagined its soft bulk as the trail of lights ended. I took my chances, turned and fumbled my way down onto the seat.

'So, what...?'

'Ssssh,' came a voice, but it wasn't Jessica's. Nor was that perfume. Someone was leaning over me, kissing my mouth lightly. I explored her lips with my tongue, and it felt and tasted familiar. Tasha.

Someone was unlacing my boots. That would be Jessica, I presumed. Tasha's hands cradled my face. Then a third pair of hands worked open my belt.

'Who is -'

'Ssssssh!' came all three voices.

So I leaned back on the couch, and felt three bodies moving around on either side and in front of me; three pairs of hands stripping me of my clothes. The apartment wasn't that warm, but I felt a glow from inside, a heat in my loins. Someone kissed me. Someone else closed a delicate hand around my cock.

Occassionally there were whispers, but otherwise there were few clues at all. My hands were free to roam, and the women encouraged me to stroke across their thighs, their flanks, their breasts. I felt a pair of large nipples stiffen under my fingertips; a shaved mound brush my thigh. Soft, satin skin pressed at me from three sides.

Jessica nipped at my ear with her teeth. I knew it was her (of course I would have known anyway!) because she then whispered into my ear: 'Do you want to fuck me, baby?' That was easily answered. I heard Jessica chuckle as she shifted off the couch from my side; other women, felt or imagined or barely glimped as outlines through the ribbon, moved around like shadows.

'I'm going to suck you first,' I heard Jessica say softly, so softly I then doubted it was her. But it was definitely her voice which continued: 'At least, it might be me. Do you think you can tell, baby? Do you think you'll know who is sucking you? Who is fucking you?'

Almost before she finished speaking, a mouth closed on the head of my swollen cock, and that same mouth produced a long tongue that slithered around my shaft. Oh, God, it was good. I took in a long breath, and captured more warm, subtle scents, mingling on the air in the room. I realised some music was playing in the background - some of my own jazz CDs - masking very slightly the exchange of words in soft voices, the rustle of skin.

The mouth bathing my cock pressed down further. A hand caressed my balls and massaged my thickened, stiffened shaft. There was a soft sucking sound, the smack of lips on my penis. The woman going down on me pumped her head a few times, and brought me to full erection, then lifted up. A second mouth slid down on me.

'Jessica,' I murmured.

'Very good,' came a laugh, and I recognised Tasha's voice this time. It had been her going down on me first, but there was an ease and familiarity about the way her replacement was taking me into her mouth, and not just because it had been only twelve or thirteen hours since Jessica had sucked me off under the duvet. I'm not going to analyse the differences in oral technique the two women used, but there were subtle changes. OK, I will tell you this much. Tasha had used her mouth to excite my cock; Jessica was tonguing my cock to excite herself. Trust me, I can tell.

Jessica lifted up, and her voice sounded husky and aroused as she said: 'Your turn.'

The third woman hadn't said a word so far. Nor had I uncovered any clues when my hands had wandered over their bodies earlier. She was shaven, but so were Jessica and many of her friends. She had smaller breasts than Jessica, smaller than Tasha's too (which ruled out Orla, Diane and a few others). I did think that I had brushed my hand over a bellybutton ring, which - from memory - took away Tiz or Cats or -

'Oh, God!' I murmured, as the woman sank her mouth down on my penis. This was really something. I don't mean that she was any better at oral sex than the other two (like I would ever say that!), but the mystery was compelling, adding something potent to the erotic mix. Soft wet lips dragged up and down my shaft; she let her teeth graze along my skin slowly. I could feel long hair brushing over my thighs.

Jessica kissed my mouth, and I knew at once it was her, and my hands cupped and caressed her full breasts as she knelt against me on the couch. The invisible mystery woman ran the flat of her tongue up my shaft, and then lifted away.

'You were good at telling mouths, baby,' Jessica whispered. 'Now, whose pussy is this?'

They paused while they shifted around, shuffling the pack of their bodies in a sensual three-card trick. Find the lady...

Someone slowly sank down onto my lap. The other women pinned my arms to the back of the couch with their bodies as they sat on either side of me, making sure I couldn't gather any extra information. I felt lips brush my temples, hands on my chest, soft breath and warm skin. Unidentifiable.

My cock was slowly being taken up inside warm, wet pussy lips. I gasped, arched my back, and sank the length of my penis into that welcome embrace. I felt my breath exhale without my control, and my hands closed around a bare leg, and a firm breast. A familiar mouth kissed me, a technique I knew well. I moaned around Tasha's tongue.

It had to be the stranger fucking me. This wasn't a style of love-making I had experienced before; I was sure of it. The woman had a small pussy, that gripped me close; she sat across my lap and rotated her hips, slipping them back and forth. My cock didn't so much press in and out of her, as get massaged along its length as she stroked her lips along me.I felt soft bum cheeks brush my thighs; small feet touching the sides my knees. There was a soft little whimper from her mouth.

Actually, that did sound familiar. Maybe I did know this mystery woman. That slightly guttural, hungry sound in her voice... the need she showed, maybe I had experienced her be-

Whoa! Damn... she was getting my cock really hot. I stopped thinking about the guessing game, and settled back, to trying for a little self-control. My mystery partner pumped her hips back and forth on me for a little longer, and then paused... her pussy shivered around me and there was the softest, slightest moan, like a sob.

I let a long breath out of my lungs, and lay back, quite still. Room air curled cooly around my erect penis as the woman disengaged. Jessica's mouth came back to my ear, urgently hissing.

'Well?'

I grinned, quite confident.

*****

'How did you know?'

'Your accent.'

'All I did was moan!'

'What can I tell you? You moan with an accent.'

'You're the one with the accent!' Jessica insisted, laughing. Tasha nodded her agreement, and sipped Earl Grey from a delicate cup, cradles between the fingers of both hands as she sat on the couch with her feet up. This was an old debate. Naturally, I insist that I speak the Queen's English properly, and if the damn colonials want to object, let them write their own story.

Ysabet definitely speaks with an accent, and it's really exotic and rich. Her heritage is diverse and colourful, and every word that passes her rich pink lips shows it. This isn't the time to talk about her past - just accept that it's complicated - but it can be said that Ysabet is Middle Eastern, European and American in varying degrees. The voice definitely has the cadence of her Arabic youth, and that's what gave her away.

We ate pitta bread, fruit, cheese; a late lunch. Or pre-dinner snack, if you prefer. Ysabet had brought some spiced coffee, but after a miniscule mouthful apiece we all - and that included Ysabet - agreed this was an evening drink, and so I made tea. We ate lunch on the same sofa where we had eaten each other.

Ysabet's arrival had been a complete surprise. For all the time we have known her, Ysabet has kept to a punishing schedule of work and study, and the last I had heard she was expected to work over the holidays. One of the many complications in her life is that she has had a few visa problems, which have translated into a license for the suits at the hospital where she works to have her work pretty much when and how they say. However, I knew Jessica had taken an interest in changing this, and she retains a lawyer who eats nothing but red meat (she was the shark I was going to use if the contractors had continued to be difficult). Apparently, Immigration had decided that Ysabet was now more American than George Washington, and with that security, Ysabet was changing employers. From the New Year she would be working much closer, in a town about two hours drive away. And, in the meantime, she had a week off.

'We're a little short of room," I started, thinking through the possibilities.

'We have plenty of room,' Jess interrupted.

'As I was saying... plenty of room...'

The guest room was vacant. While I had spent most of the day negotiating the streets of my adopted city searching for a tree, Orla and Padraig had departed, catching a flight to meet their cruise ship. It occured to me that I couldn't remember actually seeing Padraig at all during his brief stay, though I was sure he must have been here because I had heard Orla screaming his name. I recalled all the fuss about her not wanting to go, and we hadn't seen anything of her since he arrived. Contrary woman.

After the sex, and there had been a lot of sex, the women - Jessica, Ysabet and Tasha - had decorated the tree while I tried to find what damn bulb was breaking the circuit on the lights, and then served up that recuperative snack. The stereo was alternating between choral music and appalling Christmas standards; none of that was my idea. I brewed tea, cut bread, sliced cheese, washed fruit... and watched.

None of the women had put on so much as a stitch of clothing, and I have to tell you nothing decorates an appartment more desireably than three naked women. Not for the first time - not for the first time that week, or even that day - I marvelled at the many different ways women can be beautiful. No, more than that, I marvelled at the constellation of beautiful women who inhabit Jessica's heaven. Reading this tale, you might be thinking that I have some kind of harem going, but that's missing the point. This is Jessica's world; this appartment, this building, this amazing circle of people. And to be part of it, you don't have to be a particular kind of person, you just have to be.

Jessica is fair-skinned, long-haired and petite (though I may have mentioned she has big tits; I did? Thought so); Tasha is black, short-haired and slender-limbed. Ysabet's skin colour lay somewhere between the two, I decided, like a warm honey. Her hair is a dusky sandy brown, like a dark desert earth; she had it gathered by a simple tie-back in the nape of her neck. Her eyes are dark; quick and inquisitive. She and Jessica are fast friends; in the same way Jessica is with her blonde, Nordic lover, Lisa; and in the same way as Jessica is with her sultry, wicked ebony lover, Tasha.

Jessica caught me looking at them, just as I finished preparing our snack.

'What?'

'Do know any Chinese girls?' I asked. Jessica laughed, long and loud.

'How was your sex with a stranger fantasy?' she inquired.

'I'm not a stranger!' Ysabet insisted. We all agreed she was strange, though, and she sulked for a minute until we were all laughing together. The evening was full of laughter and sex, and we all three tasted Ysabet's honey coloured skin, in every conceivable way.

'It's Christmas Eve tomorrow,' Jessica said that night, in the small hours as she sat on the sheets of our bed, waiting for me to join her. She sounded almost wistful. I stroked her hair as she lay on my chest, and listened to the night draw dark around us.