For Christmas day, we’ve got a tale from Kenny Wright, following the sexy subject of Unconventional: Business Meets Pleasure, as she celebrates her first Christmas after Vegas.
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They’d strung up white lights around the bedroom windows. Frost had begun to build in the panes. Mark Sorenson watched it as his mind wandered, trying to decide what three questions to ask.
His wife’s soft voice floated through the room. “You ready?”
Behind her, Christmas music played softly. Yuletide carols being sung by the fire / And folks dressed up like Eskimos…
Mark licked his lips. Linnea wasn’t dressed up like an Eskimo, that was for sure. Her lingerie was seasonal: a red flirty baby doll negligee more gossamer than solid, a tiny matching thong, and red ribbon to collect her loose, blonde hair.
“Three questions?” he asked. He met her watchful eyes.
“If that’s the present you’d like to unwrap on Christmas Eve.”
Linnea crawled onto the bed, her smile setting off her high cheekbones. Mark mentally pinched himself for being so lucky to have her. He took a breath. He knew at least one of the questions he’d ask–he’d been harboring it for months now.
“So when you were in Vegas….”
Linnea’s smile widened. “How did I know you’d ask about that?”
Mark’s heart raced. “Did you really…”
“Did I really what?”
Mark could smell her perfume–perfume another man had enjoyed on her. The idea touched down like lightning. “What was his name?”
She dipped in, kissing Mark on the back of his jaw as her knee slid up between his thighs. Her voice was a whisper. “You really want to waste one of your questions on a name?”
Her hand found his cock bulging through his boxers. He thought back to that night–that phone call–when he’d come home from happy hour and called Linnea out in Vegas. When he’d listened to her fuck another man.
He took a steadying breath. “Did you really have sex with another man?”
Linnea hesitated only a moment, and only to heighten the drama. Her answer came with precise enunciation, her Finnish accent never sounding so foreign. “I really did have sex with another man.”
She paused, letting the confession sink in. Then she twisted: “I took him back to my hotel room, then he took me right against the window as we looked out over the Vegas Strip.”
Mark gasped. “Did you go down on him?”
Without breaking eye contact, her hands grasped the hem of his boxers. She yanked hard. His erection sprang free.
“You mean, did I do this?” She dipped low and closed her mouth around his cock. Mark shuddered as she gave him a couple tongue swirling strokes. “Yeah, but I did it on my knees. And I was completely naked.”
Mark’s chest tightened. His wife seemed to revel at the memory. Until now, she’d remained vague about the details, doling out the hints and teases with a precision that came with twenty years of marriage. She knew his fantasy. They’d talked at length about it. He just never thought she’d go through with it.
Linnea climbed into his lap, shoving him back into the pillows as she mounted him. She didn’t even bother to remove her panties. She simply pulled the thin red material aside and guided him into her.
She sank down without resistance. “You’re so wet.”
“God, you feel good.” She undulated her hips, savoring the throb of his cock as it split her. “We really need to do this more often.”
Mark looked up at her. A few strands of golden hair had escaped the red ribbon and caught in her lip gloss. Her breasts swelled over the cups babydoll. He wondered why they let so much time lapse between lovemaking sessions. She was sexier now than she’d been when they’d first met.
And capable of so much more.
“One more question.” She stared down at him, pinning him into the mattress with that gaze. “What’ll it be?”
“When I called you…”
“Mmm hmm?” She rocked along him, speeding up as his question formed.
“Was everything you said true?”
“That was so long ago. Months. I can barely remember anything I said.” Her smile suggested that she was playing him. “What do you remember I said?”
“That he was there with you.”
“Oh, that was definitely true.”
“And that he fucked you from behind.”
Linnea’s hips surged faster. Harder. She guided Mark’s hand to her clit. He took the hint, finding her clit beneath the tuft of trimmed curls. “Yes, he definitely fucked me from behind that night. While I talked to you.”
“You said he was big.”
Her eyes fluttered shut. Her brow creased. “He was, baby. It felt so good.”
“He made you come?”
She freed a breast from the babydoll’s flimsy top, her fingers working a pale nipple.
“He made you come?” Mark repeated.
Linnea gasped. “So many times.”
“Oh, God.” Mark lost it. She’d done it. She’d really fucking done it. And she was thinking about it now. “Oh, Linn!”
He released months of pent-up fantasy in that moment. He rammed his hips up off the bed, burying his cock as deep as it would go, and emptied himself. Linnea joined him a heartbeat later, coming in a shuddering crash over his flexing body. She stifled her moans out of habit, a reminder of the wholesome mother and wife she’d spent years cultivating.
And yet this same woman had brought another man back to her Vegas hotel room. Had taken a lover. Had fucked him as Mark listened over the phone, alone in this very room.
He looked up at her as she basked in the glow of their shared orgasm. A final question insinuated itself into his thoughts. One that was somehow both chilling and electrifying all at once. “Have you seen him since?”
Linnea stared down at him, still floating on her high. The world crept back. The soft lights framing the windows. The smell of cold in the air.
“You’ve gone well past your three questions. No more.” She kissed him softly, pulling the sheets over their sweaty bodies.
Was she not answering just to be cruel? Or because she had something to confess? Either way, his emotions roiled at the denial.
“Yes, Mark?” She raised an eyebrow as she reached across him for the lamp. He wasn’t going to get an answer. He was going to have to wait.
So instead, he said, “Merry Christmas.”
She switched out the light. He felt her lips against his jaw. “Merry Christmas to you.”