The Christmas Cookie

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.

I scowled at the interruption, feeling my hope of what was to come fade away in an instant. This seemed to be the story of my life. Just when I thought I had her interest, something interrupts and the "mood" never seems to come back. Joan wasn't a bad looking woman. Not nearly as hot and sexy as my wife, but then not many women are, even at sixty three. Joan is slender, early forties, modest sized chest, half a foot shorter than my six foot, and divorced for the last three years.

"Now, where did you get that?" My wife asked, as she turned to face me, wiping her hands on a small towel, while Joan stepped into the kitchen.

"From you." I answered, feeling a little confused. "It was under the tree with a tag for me."

"I didn't give you a cookie," my wife said with a frown. "You have a secret girlfriend giving you things?" She continued as she took the box from me. She snapped off another piece of the cookie and ate it, closing her eyes and letting out a soft moan. "Oh god this is so good."

"What is?" Joan asked as she stepped over.

"This cookie. Try this. It's the most exquisite taste!" My wife said as she snapped off a piece of the cookie and held it out to Joan.

"Oh damn!" Joan groaned after she popped the piece of cookie in her mouth, chewing it so slowly, clearly savoring each moment.

"Here hon. Taste this." My wife whispered, holding a piece of the cookie out for me. I opened my mouth and let her slip the cookie piece into my mouth.

It was an incredibly unusual taste. Almost like, well, almost like... Ohhhhh shit! I knew exactly what it tasted like now. It tasted exactly like Nina's pussy when I make her climax on my tongue.

"God Joan. Have you ever tasted anything so incredible?"

"No. I haven't. it's incredible." She whispered as she reached for another piece of the quickly disappearing cookie. She slipped another small piece into her mouth as my wife took the last piece and at it. The two of them moaned almost in unison as they closed their eyes and chewed the last of the cookie. "Damn, is it hot in here?" Joan asked, fanning herself with her hands as she swallowed the last of the cookie. "Where did you get that?"

Nina turned to look at me again. "Michael said it was under the tree."

"It was," I said, taking the box back from my wife. I turned it over to show her the tag on the ribbon, still partly attached to the box. The parchment fell out of the box and fluttered to the floor. My wife bent over to pick up the parchment.

"Michael, you want to tell me something?" she asked as she looked at the writing on the note. "You seeing someone on the side I should know about?"

"I wish." I grunted.

"Merry Christmas. Share this with the love of your life, to grant your Christmas wish, but be alone. Mrs Clause." My wife read. "Who the hell is Mrs Clause? My wife asked me angrily. "Some new woman I don't know about?"

"Shit honey. You know you're the only woman in my life. Honestly, I thought it was from you. We trade Santa presents all the time. I just thought it was from you."

"Not me. I didn't give you a cookie. Hell, I don't even recognize the writing. Who writes like this anyway?" My wife asked as Joan pulled the note from my wife's hand to read it.

"Looks like an invitation to play." Joan said with a grin. "Someone wants your husbands goodies."

"Yeah. right. Who'd want an aging old man?"

"I dunno. I might. Not that I've seen what he has to offer, but I can tell you that bulge in his pants is pretty inviting."

Both my wife and I looked down at my crotch. "Shit." I grunted in surprise at how far my shorts were tented out as my mostly hard cock tried to stand erect, but instead just pushed the front and part of the right leg of my shorts out until the material was taut, trapping it bent over. My cock was so hard and long that my engorged mushroom head poked out the end of the leg hole suggestively.

"Jesus Michael!" My wife snapped. "Really? Is that all you think about? Sex?" She slammed the box on the counter and stormed off toward the bedroom.

"Hey! If you don't want it, I'll take it!" Joan called down the hall toward my retreating wife. She looked down at my crotch and grinned. She stepped closer, tossing the note onto the counter and then reached down toward my bulging shorts. I felt her fingers stroke up and down my material covered shaft a few times and then stroke over my exposed bare head. "Mmmmmmm. I bet this would feel good inside me. Spreading me? Oh yeah. I'm sure it would." She whispered as she teased my head a few more moments. I felt her hand slide up and her other hand join it, one on each of my hips, reaching for the elastic waistband of my shorts. "Hell, I wouldn't mind at all if you put that someplace hot and warm and wet," She whispered to me as she pushed my shorts down over my hips and butt. She started to squat down in front of me, while I stood there, not moving, letting her push my shorts down my body, slowly forcing them down over my hard dick until it popped out and stood pointing at her face. I felt like I shouldn't be doing what I was, but at the same time, I wanted her to. I wanted her to see me and touch me. I wanted her to want me, and "Ohhhhhhh shit yes," I groaned as her hand closed around my hard shaft. I looked down at her as she gently licked up the bottom of my dick until her tongue reached my mushroom head. She seemed to know exactly how and where to tease her tongue, making me groan in pleasure again, moments before she closed her lips around my leaking cock head. "Mmmmmmmmmmmmm." She moaned, making my dick vibrate slightly as she began to stroke her mouth and hand up and down my shaft. It'd been years since anyone had done what she was doing, and all I could do was to stand there and let her do it.

"SHIT! JOAN!" I heard Nina say from behind me. "What are you doing?"

"Sucking his incredible cock. God I don't believe you don't still do this for him. It tastes soooooo damn good!" Joan said huskily from where she knelt in front of me. "You should get down here and help me. I think he's going to come for me the way it feels."

"Michael? You're going to just let her suck your dick?"

"Oh damn." I groaned as she went back to sliding her lips up and down my shaft, her tongue teasing under my engorged head with each stroke. "Fuck she's good at this."

"Michael!" My wife said quietly, the look on her face one of, what? Disappointment? Surprise? Betrayal? I wasn't really sure. She stood and stared at Joan sucking me, drawing me ever closer to orgasm. "Michael?" She asked in a squeaky whisper. "Is this what you want? Sex with another woman?"

"Oh fuck." I grunted as my body spasmed. I could feel my cum lancing out into Joan's mouth, shot after shot pumping into her as my body jerked and trembled. I stood there, my stomach tensing and my hips trying to push toward her with each new surge of cum. I didn't realize I could come that much, finally standing there, panting, after at least a dozen powerful shots of cum.

Joan pulled her mouth from my cock and looked up at me. She opened her mouth to show me the tremendous load of cum I'd deposited in her mouth, an amount more reminiscent of my more youthful days. She closed her mouth and smiled before opening it again so show not only me, but Nina that she had swallowed the whole load.

"Oh god Joan? You swallowed it?"

"Oh fuck yes," she said as she stood up. "God I'm so fucking horny." She started to push her yoga pants down, her fingers taking her panties along with them, forcing the stretchy material down over her butt and hips, down her thighs, almost to her knees. I'd seen her in some one piece swim suits before, but I'd never seen her anything close to naked. She had full round lips with a significant amount of inner labia exposed, pressed to her full round lips. Her bush spread from her mound, down between her legs, covering much of her pussy. She pushed her pants all the way to her knees and then slid her hands tantalizing up her thighs, slipping to the inside of each thigh before gently stroking and spreading her delicate inner lips. I watched her fingers stroke sensually between her lips, teasing them apart, almost as if inviting me to not only look but touch. I watched her hand slip down and back several times before she allowed her fingers to trace up from her wet lips to her mound and then higher. Her fingers hooked under the bottom hem of her shirt and pulled it up, sliding it up over her surprisingly firm stomach, pausing only a moment when they reached the bottom of her bra. She hooked her fingers under the elastic bottom band and then pulled the shirt and bra up, pulling both it and her shirt up over her tits, exposing her whole body from high on her chest all the way to her knees to my view. "Lick my pussy Michael. Please? Please lick me?" she practically begged as her fingers moved from her shirt and bra, back down to her rock hard nipples, gently stroking small circles around each hard protruding nub.

I stood and stared at her mostly naked body for long seconds, my brain seeming to be in a fog of desire I hadn't felt since saw Nina's naked body that first time. I wasn't sure at all why I did it. I shouldn't have. Part of me knew it was wrong, but another part, an animalistic part, demanded that I respond to the feelings of want and desire welling up inside of me almost uncontrollably. I gave in to those urges and I gave into them right in front of Nina. I reached for Joan's hips, moved her in front of the counter and lifted her up, setting her bare ass on the cold hard surface. She didn't seem to care as I pulled off her shoes, dropping them on the floor before pulling her pants the rest of the way down her legs before tossing them aside. I grasped her ankles and lifted her legs into the air, pushing them apart as I stepped between her legs. I pressed my shrinking dick against her wet pussy lips, grinding myself against her wetness and pressing my lips to hers in an aggressive wanting kiss that she eagerly returned. I stood there, kissing her for only a few seconds before lowering my head from her face to her tits. I closed my lips around one hard nipple and sucked it into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue as she grasped my head with one hand, pulling my face forcefully toward her chest. I heard her moan loudly as I nibbled her hard nipple. "Oh god. Fuck me Fuck my hot pussy!" she gasped loudly.