We always have done something kinky on Christmas Eve, in front of the tree. It's become our Holiday Tradition. The first Christmas after our wedding, I asked Claire to pose nude in front of the tree, dressed only in a wide-brimmed hat, boots, and a big smile, which--after much coaxing--she finally agreed to do. The picture came out great and I had it enlarged to 5X7 and framed. I keep it on my desk at home. Her big smile, those pert boobs, and that furry bush brighten my day each time I look at it.
She always is game for just about anything, even though at first she'll act like she wouldn't do such a thing, whatever, like she isn't that kind of woman, but then in the end she'll always do whatever kinky thing I suggested. The kinkier the better, in fact. It was all a part of the game. I still love the picture I took of her that first Christmas standing naked and smiling in front of the tree with her legs spread and holding her hand behind that big hat.
Then another year I talked her into trimming the tree naked so I could get shots of her decorating it bare as a newborn. Then I convinced her to make love with me on one Christmas Eve in front of the decorated tree, all lit up and festive, which she also did, although reluctant and complaining throughout. We set up the video camera so we could have a record of our Christmas Eve escapade that year. Claire and I enjoyed that Christmas immensely, fucking in front of the tree and repeating the act a couple of times afterward. Santa got screwed in the living room that Christmas and I have it on film.
And this year, after she started showing an interest in one of her coworkers, a handsome hunk named Jason, I persuaded her to her to romance him and see how far it would go. Then when they had been having an open affair, I suggested we include him into our Christmas tree tradition. I convinced her after a couple months of their affair to fuck him for me in front of the decorated tree and let me watch. She balked at the idea at first, but then she started thinking about it and finally she weakened and said she'd ask him. Of course he would, I knew, and her enthusiasm grew the more she thought about it.
Their flirtation got rolling while they rode to work together and after finding out she was attracted to him I urged her to fool around with him a little at the end of the day. "That car can go anywhere between work and here," I said. Finally, one afternoon, after some long and passionate rides home, she took my suggestion and spent a few hours at his apartment. He took her to bed that afternoon and their relationship began to really heat up from there.
We'd talked for a couple of years about opening up our marriage, about other partners, and her interest in Jason was the perfect stimulus for taking our marriage arrangement to the next level. She began to see him every week at least once after work, and I complained that I'd never seen them fuck.
It was nearly Christmas when I asked her straight out, as a gift to me, if she'd make love to him in front of our tree, renewing the tradition of a novel sexual escapade involving a Christmas tree and sex during the holidays. I asked her if she'd consent to asking Jason to fuck her with me watching. She was at first reluctant, as usual, but then she started to come around.
When she first told me there was a guy at work she "kind-of-liked", I asked if she wanted to fuck him. "Well, maybe," she said shyly. I said no sense in being coy, that we had a special relationship, open and honest, and she should do what she wanted with him. As I thought about it, I began to get turned on by the image in my head of another man sliding his cock into my wife's pussy, especially if I could see it in front of the decorated Christmas tree.
"Maybe this is the one," I said one night as we cuddle after sex.
"Could be," she whispered, as if someone might hear, smiling at the thought of going all the way with her beau from work.
That night we fucked again and talked about her with Jasone afterwards. Laying nude, post-fuck, we started chatting like best buds talking about the girls we'd screwed. "What you thinking of doing with old handsome Jason at work?" I asked leaning towards her and looking down at her face in the dim light of the bedroom.
"Well," she began, and then laughed coquettishly, "I think I'll give him a place to put that impressive hardness of his. Either in my pussy, my hand, or between my lips, or maybe all of the above."
"You ain't done that yet?" I asked feigning a southern accent.
"Not yet," she giggled, kissing me on the cheek.
"Well, get to it, girl," I said.
"If you say so, darling."
"Has he kissed you?" I asked.
"A few times."
"Passionate, before-fucking kisses?" She just nodded and grinned.