Amy's Christmas Guest

The next morning, Pam left early as usual, and I went into Amy's room, quickly undressed, and slid in behind her. She shifted back, pressing her soft bottom more closely against me.

"You certainly picked your moment to deliver your surprise last night," I said.

Amy chuckled. "That's one back for all the times you've surprised me," she said. "What's it to be today? Deep sea diving bell? Space shuttle?"

I tickled her ribs, and she giggled and gasped, "Ok, I surrender -- tell me!"

"Actually I don't have anything planned for this morning," I said. "I thought I'd let you choose."

She thought for a moment. "I know," she said, "Let's go and feed the ducks."

"Well, that's not on my top ten list of things I thought you'd say," I chuckled. "But sure, I'd like that."

She got out of bed and started to brush her hair. "What do you want for breakfast?" I asked.

"There's a café at the park, isn't there?" she replied. "Let's get something in there."

I watched her dress. "Time for a nice hot bath later, when we get in," she suggested.

"That'd be great," I said, pulling on my own clothes. I went downstairs to the kitchen and pulled out the loaf of sliced bread, making a note on the shopping list to replace it. Amy came down, and we started on the short walk to the park.

When we arrived, the café owner was just opening up. "D'you think you could manage a breakfast for us, Joe?" I greeted him.

"For you and the young lady, I reckon I could manage it," he replied. "This your niece, is it, sir?"

"That's right -- she wants to feed the ducks," I said, holding up the bread we'd brought.

"Righto -- breakfast for the ducks too." He made for the kitchen, and soon we could smell frying.

Amy and I sat down at a table, and after a few minutes Joe reappeared with two heaped plates and large mugs of tea. Amy ate hungrily, and I reflected that frequent sex was reputed to be good for keeping fit. I attacked my breakfast enthusiastically, and pretty quickly we'd both worked our way through bacon, eggs and all the trimmings.

I finished my tea, and went to pay Joe. "Enjoy the ducks," he said, "I bet they'll think it's their lucky day."

We left the café and walked to the edge of the pond. Amy took a slice of bread and started to throw pieces into the water, and almost instantly the ducks swam over, accompanied by several ducklings, some yellow, some striped pale and dark brown.

"Aren't they adorable?" grinned Amy. I nodded, and helped her break the bread into smaller pieces that the ducklings could manage.

Just then my mobile started to ring. I answered it, and was surprised to hear Pam's voice.

"I called the office, and they said you weren't at your desk," she said.

I sighed. "They don't always remember what I tell them," I said. "I have an off-site meeting with a client this morning; you've caught me in a break."

"OK," she said. "I'm afraid I'm not going to make it back today -- a situation's come up at one of the branch offices, and I'm the only senior person available to go over there to sort it out. I'll be away till at least Friday lunchtime."

"What a nuisance!" I said.

"I know," she sighed, "and I was so looking forward to this evening. I got us tickets to the ballet -- I thought it would be a change for Amy."

"Well," I said, "I'll still take her, if that's all right."

"Of course -- I don't suppose you'll get anyone else to use the other ticket at short notice."

"Will you call me later?" I asked.

"I'll be on the plane till late -- I'll call you in the morning."

"OK. 'Bye, dear. Do take care."

I pocketed the phone. "What's up?" asked Amy. She looked at my face, and my broad grin.

"Pam's been called away with work," I said. "We have till Friday afternoon."

Amy caught my hand, squeezing it tightly; her eyes sparkled.

"And there's a treat for later -- an evening out at the ballet. That'll be worth you dressing up for."

I wouldn't have believed her face could have shown any more excitement, but I was wrong. "Oh yes," she said, and I could almost see the wheels in her mind whirring as she started to plan.

"Shall we get back to the house?" I suggested.

"With pleasure," she said. She quickly shredded the rest of the bread -- the ducks obviously couldn't believe their eyes -- and we started for home.

I'd barely closed the door when Amy was in my arms, kissing me hungrily. "Whoah, slow down," I said, "we have plenty of time."

She pretended to pout. "The morning's nearly gone and you haven't made love to me once yet!"

"Well, the ducks are grateful for that, and you did have a good breakfast."

"And now I'm full of bacon and wicked thoughts," she said, not entirely succeeding in an attempt at a dramatic leer.

"Well," I said, "there's one luxury this house has that I haven't shown you yet."

I led her into the kitchen and through the far door. "A garage," she teased, "Every home should have one."

"Very funny," I said. "Here." And I opened the next door and ushered her through.

"You can't really see it from the front of the house," I said.

Amy didn't say anything as she looked round, taking in the lounging area, the small pool, and the door beyond which she could see the wooden seating of a sauna room. A padded massage table stood by the far wall.

"It isn't very big," I said, "but it's got pretty much everything."

"But I didn't bring a swimsuit," she said, feigning regret.

"And whatever would you need one of those for?" I asked.

"Well, now you mention it..." she replied. She quickly divested herself of her jeans and t-shirt, then her underwear. "Come on," she said. "Last one in's a lemon." And she slipped into the pool.

I joined her, and we did a couple of lengths. "Now, how about the sauna room?" I suggested.

"Ok," she said. "I don't have much experience with those."

"It's not difficult," I said. "I'll show you."

I led her to the sauna and gave her a towel to sit on. I splashed some water on the brazier, and took my place next to her.

"Gosh," she said, "I'm sweating already." Her face and body were shining.

"It's good for you," I said. "The pool is warm enough not to be a shock if you dive in straight after being in here."

She nodded, and closed her eyes, lying back to enjoy the sensation of the heat. She stretched out her legs and parted them unselfconsciously, and I took the time to enjoy looking at her body, which I'd enjoyed so much at Christmas and then again this week.

After a few minutes she said, "I think this is about as much as I can stand in one go."

"I think you're right," I said. "Go on, dive in."

I opened the door for her, and she walked to the edge of the pool, executing a graceful dive and surfacing with "Brrr! Feels cold compared to in there."

I dived in and swam over to her, putting my arms around her and holding her tightly to me. "Mmm," she murmured. "What's next?"

"How would you like a massage?" I said.

"That sounds lovely," she replied. She climbed out, and towelled herself off briefly before walking over to the massage table.

"How do you want me?" she asked.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" I chuckled. She feigned a stern look, and I pretended to look chastened. "Lie down on your front," I suggested.

She complied, and rested her cheek on her hands.

"You look perfect," I said.

She smiled. "Flattery will not get you out of massaging me," she said.

I walked over and looked over the collection of oils by the table. ""Hmm, strawberry and vanilla, I think."

I poured a generous amount of the oil over my hands, and made sure it was warmed up before I began to smooth it over Amy's back and shoulders. Then I started to massage her, using my thumbs to work over tense spots by her spine.

"That's amazing," she said. "You just keep on surprising me."

"And I plan to carry on doing just that," I said, running a finger down her back then letting my finger carry on into her cleft until it gently brushed her pink star.

"Mmm," she said, "that's one we haven't done yet this time."

"Let's save that for another time," I said. "I have more of you to massage yet." I ran my hands over her buttocks, kneading them, then massaged her thighs and the back of her calves down to her ankles. When my hands touched her feet, she squealed.

"I didn't know you were ticklish," I said.

"Well," she teased, "if you paid attention to parts of my body other than just the obvious ones, you'd know."

"Are you complaining?" I asked, running my hand back up between her thighs towards where I was sure I would find a dampness caused by something other than her recent swim.

"Not at all," she said. "Now, have you finished with my back?"

She turned over on the table, and put her hands behind her head, parting her outstretched legs slightly.

"That'd be yes, then," I said. I poured more oil on my hands and began to smooth it over her stomach. Then I slid my hands up over the curve of her breasts and gently caressed each one, feeling her nipples harden under my slippery palms.

She slid a hand down her stomach and between her legs, starting to touch herself. "Isn't that my job?" I asked.

"I think there's enough work for two," she said with a wink. She raised her knees, opening her legs more fully, and used her fingers to part her entrance, showing me clearly her pink opening. I entered her with a finger, and used the flat of my thumb gently on her clitoris. Then I bent my head to her, tasting vanilla and strawberry as my tongue touched and then lapped at her.

She used her hands on her still-slippery breasts and nipples, as I moved my tongue on her more urgently, and soon she was gasping and writhing under my mouth as she climaxed.

"Whew," she said after a few moments, "that was pretty good. Now how about you?"

"Kneel on the table," I said, and she complied. I knelt behind her, and entered her, penetrating her fully. I began to move in her, slowly at first then more insistently, and finally holding her hips as I thrust deeply into her and spent myself in her. I wrapped my arms around her, and held her for long moments.

"Mmm," she said, "that was pretty good. But shouldn't we be thinking about getting ready to go out?"

"We have ages," I said.

"I'm going to need a while if I'm going to achieve the full effect," she grinned, turning to face me.

"Ok," I said. "What do you need?"

"Just for you to stay out of my way --" she touched my arm gently to reassure me this wasn't a rebuke --"and to be ready yourself on time."

She picked up her clothes and walked back through the garage, then up the stairs, with a backwards glance and a smile. I occupied myself with a book, hearing various sounds from upstairs, then for a long while, silence.

I looked at my watch, judging that I needed to begin my own preparations, and went upstairs to shower again and dress. I was just putting on my cufflinks, when there was a tap at the door. I opened it with keen anticipation.

Standing there was the same vision I had seen two days before; Amy with her hair piled up, in that dress whose colour still eluded me, the rubies sparkling at her throat and wrist, and her face somehow transformed. But this time there was more; she wore elbow-length silk gloves, and carried a fur stole, elegantly draped. Her high heels brought her eyes almost level with my own.

I stood for a moment speechless, then said, "Wow. You could have stepped straight out of 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'.

Her face lit up. "Audrey Hepburn has always been my favourite -- I'm glad I've achieved the effect."

Her smile turned mischievous. "There is one thing missing, though."

"Oh? What's that?"

She stepped toward me, took my hand, and put it on her bottom. I caressed her through the thin silk, then smiled, realising what I couldn't feel.

"Very daring," I said. "You'll have to be careful not to show more than you mean to."

"I think I can manage that," she said. "No-one but you will have any idea."

"The car will be here in a minute." I said, "Let's go down."

She preceded me down the stairs, and just as we reached the hall there was a discreet knock at the door.

We followed the driver to the car, and I opened the door for Amy, closing it carefully as she settled into the deep leather seat. I got in the other side and the driver closed my door, then took his place in the driver's seat and pulled smoothly away from the kerb.

We arrived at the theatre after a short drive, and I helped Amy out of the car. "You managed that perfectly," I said, "I've not seen many celebrities do that so elegantly." I tipped the driver, confirming that I would need him to return after the performance.

We went up the steps and I approached the booking desk. "I believe you have tickets for me, in the name of Smith?"

The assistant looked up immediately. "Mr Smith -- sorry, we assumed there must have been some mistake. We wondered why your wife hadn't requested the company box, but we reserved it for you when we realised."

I thought for a moment, then it dawned on me. The company did have a box, but I'd never made use of it and hadn't even thought to mention it to Pam.

"That's excellent," I said, "thank you for your thoughtfulness."

"You're welcome, sir. One of the ushers will show you up, and take orders for drinks."

I returned to Amy, who looked slightly puzzled when an usher approached us and led us down a short corridor away from the other theatregoers.

"In here, sir, miss," indicated the usher. "I'll return in a moment to get orders for drinks."

I let Amy go first, and she walked to the front of the box, turning back to me with an expression of mixed curiosity and pleasure.

"The company has a box," I said. "Actually, to be totally honest I'd forgotten, but here we are. We have it to ourselves for tonight."

She walked back towards me and hugged me. "This is perfect!" she said.

She sat down in one of the deep chairs, taking a set of opera glasses out of their holder and looking out into the auditorium. I sat beside her, and glanced down at the stage. The orchestra were just taking their places, and after a few moments began to tune their instruments, the evocative sound recalling for me concerts I'd attended as a child.

The usher returned. "What would you like to drink?"

"Amy?" I said. "Anything you like."

She thought for a second, then said, "I'd love a cocktail. Can you get me a White Russian?"

"Certainly, miss. And for you, sir?"

"Martini -- shaken, not stirred," I said, doing what I thought was a passable Sean Connery impression. Amy smirked, but said nothing.

"Very good, sir." He left, and returned almost immediately with our drinks. "I'll leave you in peace now, sir," he said. "There's a call button just here if you need anything else -- anything at all. Enjoy the performance."

"Wow," said Amy, "I like the service."

"The company likes to treat its important clients well," I said.

The bell chimed to mark one minute to the beginning of the performance. Amy looked around the box. "Wouldn't you rather share that sofa with me? It seems so formal sitting in separate chairs," she said.

"With pleasure," I replied. We picked up our drinks and settled into the deep sofa. The lights dimmed and the orchestra started to play the overture.

Amy leaned back against me and watched, enchanted, as the first dancers emerged onto the stage. The music rose and fell, perfectly fitting the elaborate choreography, and it seemed no time at all before the curtain fell at the end of the first act. The lights came up again and the buzz of voices rose from the auditorium.

"Another drink?" I asked.

"Mmm," said Amy, "I'd like to try a Bloody Mary -- dash of Worcestershire sauce, isn't it?"

"Spot on," I said. I pressed the call button and the usher appeared as if by magic. I ordered the drinks, and again he reappeared promptly. I tipped him generously, and said, "Thank you -- we won't be needing anything else."

"Very good, sir." And he was gone.

The lights dimmed again, and I resumed my seat with Amy. As the dancers again executed their flawless, amazing movements, I slid my arms round Amy's waist, then moved my hands up to cup her breasts through the silk. She made a low sound of pleasure and contentment in her throat, and pressed my hands more firmly to her with her palms.

"That's lovely," she said, "just hold me."

All too soon the performers were taking their final bow, and I reluctantly released Amy as the lights came up again. She turned to me. "That was amazing," she said, "I'm so glad that was this evening's surprise."

"So, home?" I said. She nodded, and we made our way out of the theatre to the waiting car. We were soon back at the house, and I made us coffee. We sat in the living room and slowly sipped it. "It seems a shame to take this off so soon," she said.

"Why don't I take a couple of photos," I suggested.

"Good idea," she said.

I went and fetched my old Polaroid camera. "The technology's a bit out of date," I said, "but we'll be able to see the pictures straight away, anyway."

I drew the curtains, and she stood against them as a background as I took shots with her in various poses.

"Do you have any film left?" she asked.

"Sure," I said, "why?"

"Let's just do a few that are a little more exciting," she said, smiling.

"OK," I said, anticipation in my voice. "You'd better find somewhere safe to keep them, though. The others I can show Pam so she doesn't feel she missed out so much on our trip to the ballet, but I don't think she'd appreciate your idea of 'exciting'."

"Definitely," she said, "I know just the place. Now, get ready."

She started by releasing her hair from the clips that held it, and posed with a curtain of hair half hiding her face. Then she placed one foot on the nearby chair, the long slit in the side of her dress showing off her stockinged thigh. Next she leaned forward, her dress falling open to reveal her breasts held by the pushup bra. Finally she sat on the chair with her arms resting on its back, her legs apart. At each change of pose I clicked the shutter, placing the photos carefully on the coffee table to develop.

Amy stood up. "So, let's see what we have." She looked through the pictures one by one. "That's a good one," she said, "I'll put that one as my new Facebook picture."

Then she reached the 'exciting' pictures. "Hmm. Oh, definitely. Mmm-hmm." At the last one she said, "Wow. That one even makes me excited, and I don't think I'm into girls -- well, not like that, anyway."

"Ever tried?" I asked.

"Actually, no."

"So how do you know?"

She thought for a while. "I don't, really. But haven't I got enough to handle with you?"

"I guess so," I grinned. "But maybe we can come back to the other idea later. Are you ready for bed yet?"

She nodded, then her face became a little more serious. "Tim, can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"Tonight, I'd just like to sleep in your arms, if that's OK with you. It'll only be the second night we've had, and it just feels right."

"That's fine, my love," I said. Her face gave away her emotions at my words.

"Let's go up," I continued. I led her up the stairs, and she looked at my face, puzzlement again in her eyes, as I took her into the master bedroom instead of the guest room.

"Well, if you're being the lady of the house..." I said. She smiled, and said, "Anyway, there's nothing I need in the guest room for tonight."

She turned so her back was to me and said, "Unzip me?" I obeyed, and she slipped the dress off, hanging it carefully. She reached behind her and unfastened her bra, then carefully removed her stockings.

"Now you," she said. I quickly undressed, laying my suit over the back of the chair.

Amy glanced at me, and at my nod, climbed into bed, facing me. I lay facing her, then wrapped her in my arms and pulled her toward me, kissing her and again feeling the sensation of her lipstick against my skin. I reached over and put the light out, then rolled onto my back, so that Amy's head was pillowed on my chest. "Mmm," she said, sleepily. After a short while her breathing slowed and I knew she was asleep. I lay for a while, thinking over the day, grateful to whatever power was granting me such bliss.