The 12 Days of Christmas; Days 09-10

*** Note: This is the fourth installment of a story originally submitted for the Winter Holidays 2012 contest. This one is longer than the previous installments because there's more about the relationship as Wendy struggles with her new adventurousness. There will be one more installment. I hope you like it, but whether you do or not, please take a minute to leave a comment to tell me what you liked or what you didn't. ***

On the ninth day of Christmas, my wife seemed quiet in the morning. I tried to talk with her about the night before and her first experience with anal sex, but she kept deflecting the conversation. Finally, in mid-afternoon while our daughter was engrossed in a book in her room, I asked her to sit with me on the couch. She initially sat down at the opposite end from me; I asked her to come cuddle with me while we talked, and she did, but she seemed reluctant.

"Wendy, it's obvious that's something's wrong," I said. "The most important change for me in the last week or so has been that we're communicating so much better, and I want that to continue. Would you please tell me what's wrong?"

"You can't fix it," she said.

"OK. Can I at least understand it?"

"I'm not sure I understand it myself," she said.

"Would you please try?"

"I can't right now." There was a long pause; finally she said, "Will you be patient with me? I'll try to explain it, just not now, OK?"

Trying to hide my disappointment, along with my fear that we would quickly slip into our old habit of hardly talking at all, I promised I'd be patient and wait for her to bring it up again. We did our own things the rest of that day, and she was still unusually quiet at bedtime. As I was changing for bed, she asked me to leave my pajamas off and get in bed naked; this was promising on at least the physical level, and my cock twitched as I lay naked under the covers waiting for her.

She came out of the bathroom in her decidedly unsexy flannel pajamas and climbed into bed. "Roll over on your stomach," she said. I did, wondering what she had in mind; more anal play didn't seem likely -- and indeed, it wasn't in the cards. Instead, she straddled my hips and began massaging my shoulders. She gave me a nice long backrub, which she hadn't done in years. After working on my back for almost 20 minutes, she moved down and massaged my butt, then my thighs, calves, legs and feet. After a while she asked me to roll over, and I did.

She worked her way back up the tops of my legs, first one calf, then the other, and then my thighs. After she'd kneaded the second thigh for a while, she cupped my balls with one hand and lifted them toward my stomach, pushing and squeezing almost, but not quite, to the point of being painful. Turning her hand so that her fingers pointed downward, she started rubbing my perineum and the part of my shaft she'd pulled my balls up past with that hand. Grabbing my cock firmly with her other hand, she started stroking. When she saw a drop of pre-cum appear at the tip, she stopped stroking long enough to smear it around the head of my cock; that got a moan from me. Then she went back to firm stroking from the tip to my still elevated balls, giving them a solid bump on every downward stroke. The buildup was fast and the orgasm was routine as I pumped my load onto my stomach. She handed me some tissues, pecked me on the lips, said good night, and went back to her side of the bed, where she lay with her back to me. Except for asking me to roll over, she hadn't said a word throughout, and hadn't even looked me in the eyes.

I cleaned myself up with the tissues, then went to the bathroom for a warm cloth to do a better job. Then I got into my pajamas and got back into bed, feeling the mixed emotions of an unsatisfying release and worrying that all the gains we'd made in the last eight days were lost.

I woke up early on the morning of the 10th day of Christmas, around 5:30, but Wendy was already out of bed. I found her in the family room, curled up on a chair under a blanket, sipping a cup of tea and staring out the window. I kissed her good morning, and as I turned away she caught my hand.

"Will you sit for a while and just listen?" she asked, without looking up at me.

"OK," I said.

"I need you not to judge me, OK?"

"OK," I said again. I sat in the chair next to hers and studied her face. When she finally spoke again, she started slowly and haltingly.

"I've been fighting with myself since night before last," she began. That was the night she'd let me take her in the ass for the first time, but I didn't know yet if that's what this was about or not; I couldn't think of anything else that might've upset her. "The things we've done lately ... Some of them aren't things that ... Well, they're not things 'good girls' do. Thing is ... " Another pause, and then the words came out in a rush. "I liked them. All of them. And I don't think I'm supposed to like some of those things. And now I'm thinking about other things, naughty things, and I'm pretty sure I'd like them, too, and I want to try them but I don't know what you'll think of me and I don't know what I'll think of myself and I don't know where these thoughts are coming from and I can't stop thinking them and ..."

When she had said she didn't know what I would think of her, I'd started up out of my chair. I'd moved next to hers, knelt beside her and taken her hand. At this point I put a finger gently to her lips. I took her face in my hands and said, "I know I promised just to listen, but you need to know something."

She looked at me for the first time and waited. "Nothing that we've done lately has made me think less of you in any way," I said, as reassuringly as I could. "I love you, and I love the change in our marriage, I love the open communication, I love the new adventurousness we've found lately and" -- with emphasis, I repeated -- "I love YOU. Nothing you could think about or suggest -- nothing -- will change any of that for me. "

Looking away again, she said, "Don't be too sure."

"But I am sure," I said. "I'm not saying I'd necessarily agree to try everything you're thinking about; some fantasies should probably stay fantasies. But I'd love to share them with you, even those." My wife had done so many new things in the last five days that I wasn't sure where her limits were anymore -- or even if she had any -- and the truth was that I found this incredibly arousing. I didn't think it was the right time to tell her that, though, so I kept it to myself.

She turned to me with a look that was almost challenging, like she was going to test my assurances right then and there. She said, "My favorite thing so far has been that first night, watching you lick your cum off my breasts and having you kiss me with it while we were doing it." She paused, uncertain.

"I liked that, too," I said, smiling at the memory.

"What if it were ... wow, I can't believe I'm really going to say this ... What if it were ... someone else's?"

Unbidden, my cock sprang to life. I've fantasized about threesomes, both ways, for most of my life. Wendy and I had talked about it briefly, years ago; she had never ruled it completely out, but had always resisted talking about it, even as dirty talk during sex. To hear her suggest it now was startling, and the idea of a threesome, even a limited one, temporarily drowned out the thought of licking up another man's cum.

"How would it get there?" I asked.

"I guess I'd stroke him off the way I did you the other day, hopefully while you're screwing me," she answered.

"You also sucked me a little that day," I reminded her.

"So I did," she said, smiling a little for the first time that morning. "I suppose another guy would need some lubrication, too." Then she got flustered again. "Oh my god, see what I mean? I can't believe I'm actually talking about taking another guy in my mouth. Forty-something moms don't think like that, do they?"

"I don't care about how anybody else thinks," I said. "And even if we don't actually do it, this would be a fun fantasy." A look of doubt crossed her face, and I added, "Wendy, it's HOT just to talk about this. I'm so glad you shared it with me."

I thought about it for a few seconds while neither of us spoke. "Is that all you want to do with another guy, suck him a little and stroke him until he comes on your breasts?"

"Is that ALL?" she asked.

"Yeah, is that all, or is there more you'd like to do?"

A little incredulously, she said, "Just that, and then have you lick up his cum and kiss me with it, yeah, that's all."

I thought about it for a few more seconds. One part of my brain kept telling me, "You know you want to watch her suck another guy, what are you waiting for? Cum is cum; who cares if it's yours?" Another part kept saying, "Dude, you're not gay. Why are you even thinking about this?" Finally I remembered a quote I'd seen in Playboy years ago; I don't remember who said it or exactly how it went, but something like this: A straight man will do anything a beautiful naked woman asks him to do.

"Will you suck me off after I cum inside you again?" I asked her.

"Of course!" she said. "Does that mean ... does that mean you'll do it?"

"Y'know what? Yes. I'll do it." I said. "Got somebody in mind?"

"Oh my god, really?" she said, throwing off the blanket. "Feel this," she said, guiding my hand into her pajama bottoms to her slit, which was wet. "That just happened when I could tell you were actually thinking about it."

"See? This is exactly why I'll do it," I smiled, continuing to finger her. I think she would've liked to have me bring her off right then and there, but we heard our daughter coming out of her room and had to stop. I realized a while later that she hadn't answered my question about whether she had somebody in mind.

That evening, I dropped our daughter off at a friend's house for a sleepover. When I got home, there was a car I didn't recognize in the driveway. I walked in to find Wendy and a guy I'd never met sitting in the family room, each with a glass of wine. A third glass stood on the coffee table. Wendy jumped up and greeted me with a sensual kiss and a squeeze on the butt, then said, "Meet my friend, Scott. Scott, Colin."

We shook hands and said hello. Wendy said she'd known Scott in college; they'd never been close, but had kept in touch over Facebook, and she'd noticed he was in town for the holiday. He and his wife had split up a year or so ago. "I thought he'd be perfect," she whispered to me when he excused himself to use the bathroom.

It took a second or two to make the connection. As soon as I did, though, I felt my cock swelling. "Why is he perfect?" I asked.

"He's not a stranger -- well, not to me, anyway -- but he's not someone we'll run into often either. And he's cute enough, not gorgeous but cute," she added.

Scott was a little taller than I am, about 6-feet-1, and more solid -- more of a running back to my tennis player build. Blond hair, lighter than my brown; blue eyes like mine. Friendly look, the kind of guy you wouldn't hesitate to have a drink with. "Does he know why he's here?" I asked.

"I think he suspects something, but I wanted you here when I told him," Wendy replied. "I want to see if he treats you any differently after he knows what we want, because if he does, he's outta here."

"And you're sure about this?" I asked. "You seemed pretty troubled this morning, and I don't want to rush into anything if you still have any doubts."

"I'm sure," she said, smiling. "I thought all day about what you said about our communication, our new adventurousness . I talked to a couple of friends, nothing specific, just, y'know, whether they'd ever spiced things up, and I checked a couple of online forums. I guess a LOT of 40-something moms do things. And besides, I LIKE what we've done so far, and I know I'm gonna like what we're about to do. And I'm OK with that now."

Just then, Scott came back into the room. We all sat down with our wine glasses, had a little toast to new friends, and then Wendy just laid it out for him. "Scott, I want to make you come on my breasts so Colin can lick it up and kiss me with it."

You want a picture to go next to "savoir-faire" in the dictionary, this guy is it. One eyebrow went up just a notch, and his eyes flicked quickly to me, then back to Wendy. No other reaction for about five seconds; then he smiled. "Sounds like fun!" he said.

Wendy said, "I want to be sure you understand what's going to happen here. You and I aren't going to have sex, or even kiss. I'm going to use my hands on you, and Colin and I will be having sex while I do. After you come, you can stay and watch if you want or you can get dressed and go, but Colin and I will be continuing on without you either way. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, and you can go now if that's not enough for you -- but I hope you'll stay."

"Like I said, it sounds like fun. And I'd love to stay and watch afterward if that's OK with both of you," he said.

"Great!" Wendy said, standing and smiling. "Then put your glasses down and follow me, boys."

She led the way to our bedroom. She popped into the bathroom, telling us over her shoulder to get undressed. Scott and I glanced at each other a little awkwardly; then he got this crooked grin on his face, shrugged his shoulders, and unbuttoned his shirt. By the time we were both naked and Wendy wasn't back yet, it was REALLY awkward. It's tough to have a conversation with a naked guy in your bedroom.

Finally, he said, "You sure you're OK with this? I mean, most guys wouldn't even like another guy seeing their wife naked, and this is a lot more than that."

I said, "Yeah, it's cool. I don't know if it'll ever happen again, but she wants it and I'm willing to try pretty much anything that turns her on, y'know?"

"I heard that," said Wendy, smiling as she came out of the bathroom. She was naked, too, which surprised me; I thought she'd have to work up to being nude in front of a new guy. It surprised Scott, too; I thought he'd give himself whiplash turning his head like that. He said, "Wow" -- not loudly but appreciatively. I thought that was awfully nice of him; with Wendy's extra pounds she doesn't turn many heads, though she does have a pretty face and those great breasts. And I could see the confidence boost Wendy got from his simple compliment. She'd been watching Scott's face, but after that her eyes drifted south; when her gaze landed on Scott's cock, she bit her lower lip and said "Mmmmm" just as appreciatively as he'd said "Wow."

I admit it, I looked too. Scott was starting to get hard, and I could tell his cock was a lot like mine; maybe a little longer, maybe not quite as thick, circumcised like mine, all in all about average, like mine.

Wendy confirmed this, saying, "Wow, you guys are almost twins!" I wondered briefly if she was disappointed, having hoped for a bigger cock, but she said, "This IS going to be fun!" and I quit worrying about it.

She walked over to us; from the corner of my eye I could tell Scott was watching her move and liking what he saw. She reached out both hands and gave each of us a light caress from the balls up to the tips of our shafts, and eying first one stiffening cock and then the other, she said impishly, "I was about to ask if you're ready, but you've already answered that question." Scott and I laughed a little, and he said, "Yes ma'am, I'm ready."

She took one hand each and backed up, pulling us toward the bed. Then she stopped, as if she'd just thought of something. Looking at Scott, she said, "What's your favorite position to watch when you watch porn?"

"Cowgirl," he said without hesitation.

"You heard the man, Colin," Wendy said. "Let's give him what he wants."

I climbed onto the bed and lay down on my back. Smiling at Scott, Wendy said, "Feel free to sit or stand beside us, or move around for the view you want." Then with a wink, she added, "Just be sure I can reach you."

Then she slithered up my body until we were face to face, kissed me passionately, sat up over my hips and guided me into her already slippery pussy. Scott wanted a view from the front, so he piled up some pillows and half sat, half lay on the bed next to me. The feel of Wendy starting to grind her hips against me banished most of my awkwardness about having a naked guy lying next to me, and the rest of it disappeared as I watched her slide her hand up Scott's thigh toward his balls. She caressed his sack lightly at first, then more firmly, then traced a finger up his shaft. Finding a drop of pre-cum there, she rubbed it around his head and tickled his frenulum with her wet finger; I could tell from his body language that he liked that as much as I do. She gave him a stroke, then said, "Hmmm, we need a little more lubrication."

Glancing at me to make sure I was still OK with this and seeing me nod slightly, she raised herself off me and kissed her way down my chest, then took my cock deep into her throat. I knew it was Scott who needed the lubrication, not me, but it was a nice gesture on her part; the look in her eyes as she gazed up at me let me know she was doing it to remind me that I'm her man, no matter what happens. Then she raised up off my cock, looked Scott in the eye, and said, "Your turn."

As she moved toward him, he put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Hold up; we didn't talk about this, and I don't want you to do anything either of you will regret later. You can just use some lube or something."

Wendy said, "Col and I talked about it before, and we agreed a little sucking to get you slippery would be OK. Unless it's not OK with you? You'll only get a stroke or two; if you'd rather I didn't, I won't."

Scott looked and me and said, "You're sure?" I said, "I'm sure. I can't wait to see this!"

Taking his hand off Wendy's shoulder and smiling broadly, he said, "It's very OK with me!"

Wendy moved her whole body over between Scott's legs and then looked straight into my eyes while she moved her mouth toward his crotch. She kept her eyes glued to mine as she licked slowly from under his balls up the underside of his shaft, swirled her tongue around his head, and then slowly took his entire length into her mouth. I could see her throat and cheeks moving and knew she was using her tongue on him inside her mouth the way she does to me as she moved slowly back up. The sight of his cock sliding out of her mouth, glistening with her saliva, was every bit as hot as I thought it would be. Imagine the hottest blow job you've ever seen in porn. Then imagine it's being given by a woman who's sucked your cock hundreds of times, so you know exactly what the other guy is feeling. Then imagine seeing it live, just a few feet away, and knowing that woman is going to climb back on top of you in a few seconds. It was Hot with a capital H. Very, very hot. The only reason I wasn't stroking myself as I watched was that I was afraid if I did I'd bust my nut right then.

She pulled up until part of the head of his cock was exposed, then -- still with her eyes locked right on mine -- dove all the way back down, fast. Then she came up slowly again, and again I could see that her tongue was working. Scott said, "Ohhhh, god, that feels good." Wendy pulled all the way off this time, flicked her tongue across the underside of his head, then reached up and started stroking him as she climbed back on top of me. She kept up the same rhythm with her hips and her hand for a while as I caressed her breasts; then I put my hands on her hips to let her know she couldn't keep that up for much longer if she wanted me to last, and she settled into a gentle rocking on top of me while continuing to stroke Scott's cock. She and I spent part of the time looking into each other's eyes, part of the time watching her stroke him, and part of the time watching the other one watching her stroke him.