Ribbons Not Included

Waving off the waiter, she used the menu to shield us from the neighboring table. “Go back a few years and heed your own advice.”

The sad thing was that I knew exactly the moment in time she was talking about, and I knew the advice. When she’d confided in me about how miserable she had been with her ex, I’d told her to leave him and live her life. Ally had tried to justify staying with the jerk because she was getting too old to start over. She wanted children before she was too old to enjoy them.

“If a mom and dad aren’t happy together, it only hurts the children,” she said, reminding me of my closing argument. “Do you love Christian?”

“More than I thought possible,” I whispered.

“Then, tell me. What should we do?”

“Make the waxing appointment and go shopping,” I said, determined to show my husband how much I really did love him.

Chapter Three

After two days of sexy shopping (or was it shopping for sex?) and many hours spent searching websites on erotic fantasies, I finally finished wrapping all the gifts and placed them under the tree. Christian’s present wasn’t there, yet. But, the framework was. It was a personal gift that wouldn’t do well with ornate wrapping and fancy ribbons. There were no ribbons included, but it would have bells and whistles the other presents couldn’t ever have.

I was going out on a limb, practically risking my sanity, but I knew he’d more than like it. After all, all my research said men were visual creatures.

Hiding the camera inside the only gift box without frilly ribbons was a sure way I would differentiate it from the real presents. Hopefully, Christian would be too occupied to notice the discrepancy. The massive amount of candles supplied ample lighting while still filling the room with a sensual glow. And, I’d moved the red chair a little closer to the tree for a better view.

Santa Clause is Coming to Town played on my cell phone, letting me know I had ten minutes till he arrived. Pressing my palm against my tummy, I tried to soothe the fluttering sensation. I hadn’t felt like that since the first time I had sex.

Sitting on the edge of the couch, I finished off my Baileys. With my hands leaving a permanent imprint on my midsection, I waited, poured a new drink, finished it, and waited some more.

He was late, and the camera was recording. What if it ran out of juice before we were done? What if he was still mad at me?

We hadn’t talked about the baby since the morning after our amazing marathon, but we hadn’t made love either. In a massive expression for my conviction to our marriage, I’d thrown away the ovulation test. If we were meant to have a baby, we would. The doctor had said everything was okay and that we should enjoy the process.

But, how the hell was I not supposed to worry? We’d been together for ten years and there had never been a false alarm. We’d been trying for months, and still nothing. Covering my face, I allowed myself a single whining sigh. I had to trust in us and what we had, otherwise nothing would be right. Ally was correct; bringing a child into a strained marriage was not healthy. I had to focus on strengthening my relationship with Christian before I considered any thing else.

He was over an hour late, and he wasn’t answering his phone. I carefully unwrapped the box with the camera, changed out the battery, angled it so the lens was clear of the cardboard and paper, set it on standby, rewrapped the darn thing, and placed the remote control on the table. Since I blew out the majority of the candles, I programmed the tree lights on a steady illumination rather than flashing, and hoped between the tree lights and the candles in the glass jars there would be enough lighting to capture us on tape.

The news was on, so I pulled a throw over my shoulders and lay on the couch.

When the jingle indicating the end of the program woke me, Christian was sitting in the red chair by the tree, a towel wrapped around his middle, grinning at me.

“You’re so beautiful when you sleep,” he said, tucking a tendril of hair behind my ear. “When we started living together, I used to watch you for hours.”

“No, that’s impossible.” I sat up and took a watered down sip of Baileys. “How could you have been watching me, if I was watching you?”

His laughter warmed my chilled bones, reminding me how much I loved the man before me. He held out his arms and I walked into them, sitting on his lap. Every Christmas Eve, at midnight, we opened a special present we had for each other. It was just after eleven-thirty, so I still had time to prepare his gift.

“I made sugar cookies. Can I get you some?” I snuggled against him and kissed the side of his neck. Freshly shaven, he smelled clean and spicy. Our plans must have coincided, for the twinkle in his eyes was brighter than the tree lights.

“I have all the sugar I need right here,” he said, lowering his head and capturing my lips. His tongue gently caressed my mouth, stoking my desire and heating every cell in my body.

“Love the new baby doll,” he said, lifting the see-thru fly away material which was separated down my middle. “Very festive.”

“It’s red. Your favorite color.”

His lips trailed down my neck, around my collar bone and directly to my chest. Taking my nipple into his mouth, his tongue twirled over the sheer material, raising my excitement and making my pussy ache for his touch.

But, it was time to make his present. I’d done a lot of research on male sexual fantasies and one thing that topped all the lists was them receiving oral sex. With his face still against my chest, I reached for the remote control and turned the camera on, then looked at it and licked my lips like I was parched.

Christian pulled the satin ribbon holding together my lingerie and the material fell to either side of my breasts, exposing the sheer g-string thong that barely covered my swollen folds. It was real hard trying to choreograph the blow job when my body wanted him so bad. I arched my back and he suckled my nipples. First one, then the other, and eventually palming the sides of my breasts, he brought them together and paid homage to both nipples simultaneously.

These were the moments my large breasts were made for. I loved my D size.

“You have the most delicious tits in the world,” he breathed, tonguing the tight space between them. “I would suck on them for hours if I hadn’t seen that beautiful bare pussy of yours and now I need to taste it.”

Moisture pooled between my thighs, and the sheer material glistened in the candle glow. I was so wet, so ready for him to see my bare pussy swollen for him, but I had to focus.

Damn, I loved sitting on his lap. It gave him great access while I felt the complete length of his shaft against me. His erection pressed into the back of my thigh, and I moved to fit it in the center of my ass. All the time, I concentrated on keeping us in the camera’s line of sight. The secret recording made me hornier, and I couldn’t wait to see his reaction to it when I played it back for him.

I lifted my butt, moved my hand under his towel, and wrapped my fingers over his cock. “I need to taste this,” I whispered.

Groaning his approval, he shifted his hips and pulled the towel from under us. He raised my face and captured my lips with a searing kiss. The baby doll fell to the floor and his hands cupped my naked ass as his finger moved under the thin string between my cheeks.

My body was on fire. I couldn’t think of the camera anymore. The only thing on my mind was Christian, his hard body, and the way he made my world spin.

Reaching beneath me, he lifted me to my knees so that I straddled his thighs, and from behind, he slid his hand inside my folds. My breasts in his face and my pussy aching for more of his touch, I arched my back and pulled him closer.

He didn’t disappoint, slipping his thumb into my channel and rubbing my clit with his finger. He suckled a nipple and scraped his teeth over it, making me cream all over his hand. I moaned and groaned like a bitch in heat, but I