The 12 Days of Christmas

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was no note.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It required three AAA batteries.

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

It went VERY well with the magazines.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was definitely big enough to use as a blindfold.

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

I put the vase on the dresser.

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

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

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

I shaved my legs meticulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

"Did you use the vibrator?"

"Yes."

"Did you put the dildo in your pussy?"

"No. I wanted you to do it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How about this one?" she murmured.

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hand was gone.

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

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

"You should apologize."

"I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The third one."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"FUCK!" I screamed involuntarily.

"Language, missy," she teased.

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

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

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

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

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

Until I twitched and begged her to stop.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can't wait to celebrate again next year.