Thursday, November 17, 2016

happy ho ho ho to you.


"Do you want to go first?" I ask, from my spot, kneeling on the carpet.  

Jonathan joins me.  The fresh smell of Evergreen dances in the air, to the smooth tones of Harry Connick Jr's Christmas album.  I squirm excitedly in my seat.  So far, the holidays have been perfect.  Two full days off together, with no family commitments up until later on this evening.  Never have we indulged in each other's company so completely.  And, of course, our generous holiday moods have found us in the bedroom on more than one occasion.  He even tied me up like a pretty little present.  So, needless to say, We're currently savouring the last of our alone time together before a big dinner with his family tonight.
"You go," Jonathan smiles, handing me my gift.  
"Ok," I concede, taking the square shaped, light weighted present in my hands.  "Hmm," I wonder, aloud, turning the box this way and that, even shaking it slightly; but nothing betrays its mystery.  I hope it's something sexy, I think to myself.  Perhaps some lingerie, a blindfold, some handcuffs, anything to further the role play we've been experimenting with this holiday season.  I bite my lip saucily and suddenly rip off a strip of shimmery paper.  He smiles handsomely in anticipation; even winks, flirting with me.  I turn my gaze towards the gift, squinting to find and read some of the fanciful text. "Personal massager," I read aloud.  My eyes go wide for a moment.  "A vibrator?"  I tear the rest of the gift open.  The picture displays a discreet bullet vibrator with an attractively smooth finish.  My mouth hangs open, unable to form words.  I've always wanted one.  I don't even know what vibration feels like down there.  I'm beside myself with excitement.
"Yes. However, there's a catch..." Jonathan begins, as I anxiously root through the packaging.  But, I immediately notice the seal is broken.  I quickly compare the picture on the box with the product inside.  
"Wait a minute. It looks like there's a part missing. The remote.  Aww, that's too bad," I pout.  "We'll have to take it back." When my eyes once again reach his, he smiles devilishly, producing the remote from his pocket.  My eyes narrow.  
"Listening now?" He asks, playfully.  "This part, will stay in my possession.  To use whenever and wherever I see fit.  That part," he states, gesturing to the vibrator, "will stay in your panties."  I lick my lips, the muscles in between my legs sympathetically flexing.  Not only does his authoritative tone make me wet, but the thought of carrying out his sexy task.  
"Ok..." I seductively smile, waiting for more instructions.  "And where and when exactly will I wear this?"
"Glad you asked," he smiles, matter of factly.  "Tonight, at Christmas dinner."
"With your parents? And sister?" I gasp.  No.  Could I? I picture myself at the table, discreetly carrying the dormant vibrator in my pants, waiting anxiously for it to erupt with movement.  A smile creeping across my face, half expecting it to turn on at any minute, making eyes at Jonathan from across the Christmas spread, at our little secret.  Perhaps I forget about its existence for a moment, answering a question about my job to his mother, and suddenly feel the vibrator come to life between my legs.  I stop mid-sentence, trying to compose myself, coughing to cover my reaction, pressing my napkin into my lap, apologizing.  My breathing becomes laboured as I pretend to be listening to the rest of the conversation, as I retreat further and further into my world of erotic pleasure.  I imagine myself catching Jonathan's eye, who is finding pleasure in watching me squirm.  I feel a bead of sweat break my hairline, and my face flushes in embarrassment, to be vulnerable in this way in front of his family.  Yet, I feel the flutter of an orgasm approaching.  I deny it, but the vibrator pulses relentlessly.  I deny it again and again, each time my will is weaker than the last.  I feel the climax building within me, and I close my eyes, bite my lip, trying to hide.  At which point... I imagine him turning it off.  A wicked grin emanating from his seat across the table. 

Snapped back from the daydream, Harry Connick croons, "Happy ho ho ho to you."  
My eyebrow raises with a thought.  "Alright.  Now, you open your present.  

But, there's a catch."

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