Authors note: I intended this to be a stand alone story, but if there is enough response, Michael, Nina and Joan can carry on further.
I could hear Nina, my wife, clinking the dishes in the kitchen as she unloaded the dishwasher. It was Christmas eve morning, and she was up and about before six. That meant only one thing as far as I was concerned, no Christmas sex this year, again. Not with the kids showing up this afternoon. I've found myself thinking back to the early years a lot more lately. You'd think that at sixty plus a couple, sex wouldn't be a big deal anymore, but instead it seemed like my tolerance for her lack of desire or output was lower instead of better.
I closed my eyes again and thought back to our first Christmas together as man and wife. It was a small tree, and there weren't many presents around it, but we gave each other the best present in the world that Christmas night. We made love under the tree, not once, but multiple times. Nine months later our first daughter was born. All through our dating time she was sexually playful and we would have sex many ways and in lots of places. She never seemed bashful when she undressed for me, exposing her incredibly beautiful body. Hell, I never would have even tried to ask her out on a date if I hadn't accidently spilled my drink all over her at McDonalds. She was WAY out of my class. She looked more like playboy model material than someone interested in a somewhat geeky college freshman.
To my surprise, she demanded that I take her out to make up for spilling the soda all over her. So I did. And again, and again. After half a dozen dates, I built up enough nerve to suggest we mess around while we were walking in the dark through the local park. She readily agreed and the two of us made love for the first time on a picnic table in the middle of a public park. It was the first of many times we made love, in private, in semi-public areas, in the river, in the lake, well, you get the idea. She was willing to do it anywhere I felt comfortable doing it with her. She never seemed to be able to get enough of our intimacy. And it was so much more than just sex. You could see it in her eyes. She loved what I was doing with her and she loved watching me climax along with her. It became almost a game with her, to hold it as long as possible before letting herself tumble over the edge, taking me with her. But it was for me, and only me. Once we started dating there was no one else, not even close male friends that would hug or anything. It wasn't until I proposed that I learned I was the first man to have her that way.
We got married less than a year after spilling that soda on her, and we made love the first time as man and wife in the hot tub on the balcony of the bridal suite. Not one time, but twice before we finally tumbled into bed, exhausted from the days activities. The next months were fantastic. She seemed to delight in teasing me, skimpy or no underwear with short skirts, sexy lingerie, sometimes wearing things without a bra so her big 32D tits would wiggle enticingly. Our first Christmas found her under the tree in a red see through negligee, a gift tag tied to the crotch of her see through panties that read "definitely open before Christmas!" We made love under that tree and we loved each other. Over the next months, her belly grew, but her desire for me didn't change. If anything, it increased. It was almost as if being pregnant enhanced her sexual desire. And I wasn't going to argue. She always whispered how much she loved me and how much making love with me made her feel loved.
It wasn't a surprise when sex drew to a sudden halt after Tabitha was born. I could understand it. I waited patently, and some of the sex returned, but not nearly what it had been before. We had to plan when we had sex so we didn't wake Tabitha, interrupting us. A year later we had Julie, and sex became even less frequent. After Mandy, well, sex just didn't seem to happen any more. It was frustrating, but I always looked ahead and said that once the girls were grown and out of the house things would get better.
College came for the girls and we were empty nesters, but the long skirts, heavy duty bras to hold her now thirty eight triple D's in place, and the granny panties appeared to be the future. Sex was maybe once or twice a month, if I was lucky, always in the bedroom and always the same way. It was, to say the least, depressing to see what my life had become. I was married to the most beautiful woman in town, maybe the state, and I barely got to even see her naked any more unless we shared a shower. Now here we were, twenty years past the girls moving out on their own and I was more depressed about our sex life than I could remember. I lay dreaming back to that first Christmas, picturing her laying under the tree in that see through red mesh, her legs spread, her body illuminated only by the blinking lights of the tree, looking so damn sexy and inviting. I could still feel in my mind the sensations of sliding my hardon into her and hear her moans of pleasure as she begged me to fuck her over and over again.
I could feel my hardon inside my sleep shorts growing, my hand moving to it as I remembered the image of her breasts bouncing inside the sheer material before she rolled me over to sit on top of me. I stroked my hard shaft, pretending it was her hot wet pussy again, her big tits now bouncing wildly on her chest, the sheer material pushed apart by her flying breasts. My mind could still remember how she felt around me as she pounded down on me with abandon until she made me come deep inside her. I grunted and felt my cock surge cum onto my stomach, remembering that day and wishing for those days again. I knew in my heart it was a useless wish. Nothing was going to change, but I still couldn't help but wish it none the less. I tossed back the covers, pushed the sleep shorts the rest of the way off and headed to the shower to rinse off the evidence of my desire.
---o---
It had been a good Christmas. I loved having the girls and their families over, this year with the first of our grandchildren as well. It was midmorning, the day after Christmas, and I was moving around the tree, picking up the odds and ends wrapping paper that had gotten left behind and putting my Christmas presents away in the shop, or wherever else was a suitable home. The tree had been inundated with presents, as usual, stacked so high that only the top two thirds of the tree were visible. Both of us enjoyed giving presents to the girls and their husbands. My wife spent hours picking just the right things for all of them. Christmas was probably the best season of the year, at least I felt so. Though each year it became harder and harder not to think back to that first Christmas. No, I wasn't going to change wives. I loved Nina more than anything else in my life, though the girls would be a darn tough second. No, I was resigned to my life of near celibacy, at least compared to how my life with her started.
I tucked things away and was about to call it done when I noticed a small package sticking out from under the tree skirt. "uh oh." I mumbled, "someone didn't get a present." I pulled the oddly wrapped package from under the skirt and looked at it. About six inches square and maybe an inch thick. I didn't recognize the paper. It was a deep burgundy with some kind of fuzzy pattern on it and a bow that looked to be made of silk lace. It had a small tag which I turned over. "To Michael, from Mrs Clause."
I chuckled. My wife and I often traded packages from Santa. I was surprised that she didn't catch one of mine was missing. I gently slipped the bow and ribbon off the corners and gently unwrapped the paper. It was almost like foil paper with that interesting soft texture. It had to be expensive paper. I opened the box and inside was a single heart shaped cookie, white frosted with red sugar dusted over it. Under I could see a small parchment paper. I slipped it out. The parchment looked and felt ancient, but clearly couldn't be or it would fall apart. The writing was in a looping feminine script.
"Merry Christmas. Share this with the love of your life, to grant your Christmas wish, but be alone." Mrs Clause.
I looked it over, front and back, but there were no other clues. Maybe this was my wife's way of trying to start something? We hadn't had any sex over Christmas yet, so maybe this was her way of giving me a present she knew I would enjoy. I grinned at the thought. I could play that game. I headed to the bedroom and took off my underwear so I was wearing only my thin underarmor workout shorts. That should make things easier. I took the cookie from the box and opened the plastic wrapper. Setting the unwrapped cookie back in the box, I went to find her. Now was as good a time as any. I found her in the kitchen, putting dinner into the crockpot. I stepped behind her and gently kissed her neck. Breaking the cookie, I reached around her, pressing my already growing hardon against her butt crack. I whispered. "I have something for you." I held the piece of cookie out in front of her mouth for her to take the bite.
"What's that?" she asked, her hands unable to do anything as she held the chicken breasts. I slipped the portion of cookie into her mouth before she could object any further. "Ohmygod! That is soooooo good!" she moaned, almost orgasmicly as she chewed the cookie slowly.
"Knock knock!" I heard from the garage door as Joan, our neighbor called as she walked in. "Anyone home?"
"In here!" My wife called, dropping the chicken into the crockpot and moving away from me to wash her hands.
