The following is a true story, and has been a Christmas tradition between I and my husband for the past five years:
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There are holiday traditions in every family, and in mine there are two. We save the wishbone from the Thanksgiving Turkey, and break it on Christmas Eve- and we don’t set up our Christmas tree until the very same night, after all of the kids have drifted off to sleep.
Several seasons ago I discovered a new, more personal tradition…
It was my senior year in college, and I had brought home my fiance Ken over Christmas vacation to spend the holiday with my family on our small country acreage. He seemed to be overwhelmed with my picturesque family and home from the second that my mother answered the door in her fifty dollar apron, air smelling of gingerbread, and led him past the gaily bedecked stairs strewn with fir branches and red velvet bows.
I couldn’t help but chuckle softly as his wide eyes took in the large immaculate house that seemed to be something out of Better Homes and Gardens, with boyish amazement. I motioned for him to take off his shoes, and sock-footed we were led upstairs with our duffel bags as snow melted in our hair.
Mom led him to the guestroom while I ran to my room to deposit my things, and took a moment to reflect. It was always good to be home- a dorm room can never get as cozy. I picked up my old doll Michelle, and hugged her to my body, staring into my vanity mirror and smiling with childish contentment. I’d always enjoyed my time here- Mom is my best friend, my stepdad is a funny guy, and my three little brothers are just great. I found myself rummaging through things on the vanity table, immersed in fond memories of my family, ankara escort when I was jolted from my reverie by a large thunk. Remembering Ken, I hurried to the guest room.
I arrived to see my fiance sprawled on the floor looking dazed, and my mother politely repressing laughter with a hand delicately over her mouth. I noticed a wood panel jutting from the wall and noted that Ken had found the hidden ironing board. Trying not to laugh myself, I kneeled down by his side with an amused flush on my cheeks.
Mom straightened herself, assuming a pleasant but serious posture. “I think I’ll go check on the cookies, you two. Dinner is at six thirty… Honey, you can show Ken around until then… make sure he doesn’t accidently discover any more suprises.”
Mom turned to leave, and I grinned over at Ken. “What in the hell is that?” he grumbled, rubbing his head and looking up.
“Just an ironing board.” I replied, and stood, setting the panel back into its proper place. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place… and you have to meet Eternity!”
I gave Ken the grand tour, everything from the attic which had been converted into a craft room, to Dad’s darkroom, to the wine cellar. Last but not least, we bundled up and went outside to visit the barn.
When we arrived, my horse Eternity was nickering softly, blowing steamed air from her nostrils. I rushed up to the gray mare, embracing her large neck and burrying my face into her mane which smelled of sweat, leather, and straw. I was so absorbed in the comfort of being next to my old friend, that I scarcely noticed that Ken had walked up behind me until he placed a few fingers on either side of my hips.
I smiled against escort ankara the horses neck, and wiggled my bottom towards him, as he advanced further, rubbing his groin firmly against my ass in a teasing gesture. He knew how much that drove me crazy… I took a deep breath, exhaling in a pleased sigh as his hands slipped forward, one arm wrapping itself around my waist, and the other venturing downward to carress my pussy through the hard, cold cloth of my bluejeans.
Releasing the horse, and straightening myself, I spoke nervously. “Ken… we have to be on our best-” But I could not finish the sentance, for I was quickly spun around and Ken had pressed his cold lips to mine, his frigid hand cupping the back of my neck and tilting me into an intense kiss. Breathing in deeply, the winter air stung my nostrils and burned my lungs, but I hardly took notice. With an echoed desire I found myself returning his advances, an icy hand slipping down inside his pants to cup at his warm ass as my tongue probed further into his willing mouth.
Ken half-pushed me, half-led me to the stairs that led up to the hayloft, and pressed me down against them. My legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, and even through the cold cloth of our jeans, I could feel the hard bulge of his cock aching toward my own warmth as he moved against me, rubbing his most private parts against mine as a reminder of the better things that we could be doing right now.
The stairs were uncomfortable, digging into my back, but I hardly noticed them as my hands reached forward, finding the cold metal of the button at his waist and unfastening his jeans. I pushed him forward, sitting on the stairs as he stood in front of me, and tore open ankara escort bayan his pants, pushing past his boxers and drawing out my prize into the wintery air. I heard Ken gasp as the cold hit his skin, and he started to pull up his pants, but I pushed his hands away and took his cock into the sultry confines of my mouth, enveloping it in luscious warmth.
He moaned helplessly as my lips moved over him, my tongue eagerly wrapping itself over his hardness. He brushed my hair from my face, and I stared lustily into his eyes as he looked down at me, bobbing my head as his cock slid within the silky heat of my mouth, my lips pressed firmly around the tender flesh.
I released his cock, and saw his eyes grow wide as I blew on the head, my saliva freezing in the bite of a slight breeze before I returned it to the comforting warmth of my mouth. I closed my eyes, moving agonizingly slow over his stiff member, until he pressed a hand harshly to either side of my face and began to fuck my mouth on his own terms.
Moaning, my hands massaged his reddening ass as he rammed his cock into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat and then returning for more. I slapped his ass and he moaned aloud, the motion making my own freezing hand sting before the delicious warmth of pain began to tingle through my skin. Soon I felt him stiffen under my hands, and then my mouth was flooded with salty jism and I drank it in, moaning as his cocked spasmed within my mouth, depositing its creamy treat. The timing was wonderful, because only seconds later I heard Dad calling us in to supper, and laughed outloud as Ken fumbled at his pants with gloved hands.
As we were walking back toward the house it began to snow, and I laughed as my fiance as the snowflakes pelted him in the face, making his features scrunch up. Reaching behind him, I gave him a hearty slap on the ass. “Merry Christmas, doll” I joked.
“Yeah…” he blushed. “Merry Christmas.”