Christmas Stocking

Over dinner one night a couple of weeks before Christmas I was telling my wife about the stockings I used to get when I was a kid. We used my mom's old nylons; you know the ones they held up with garters. I grew up in the '60s, at the dawn of panty hose, and as my mom embraced the 'new' technology she was looking for ways to reuse the old.

So those nylons became Christmas stocking for my brother and me. They were tied to the posts at the ends of our beds and we'd wake up in the cold prairie night and grab them. Turning on the bedroom light would mean our parents would know we were up too early, which would usually elicit a yell to go back to sleep. To be safe we'd open the contents of the stocking in darkness.

My dad being a methodical man, the order of the contents of our Christmas stockings never varied. At the top would be something sweet – some chocolates and a box of Lifesavers, usually. Then there would be something to play with – games or small action figures, one year a water pistol. In the middle, and the only present actually wrapped, would be something special – a Dinky toy. When I was a kid, the rubber-tired cast metal Dinky toys – cars and trucks and military vehicles – represented the very best and we'd usually open this present last. After the Dinky toy would be a carrot – I have no idea why – and the very end of the stocking, in the toe, would be a Mandarin orange.

My wife thought the story amusing, especially when I said this could be why I still like playing with nylons, especially when she wears them.

These days, at our house, we hang the Christmas stockings from the fireplace mantel in the living room. On Christmas Eve, after a late dinner of tourtiere – the traditional French Canadian pork pie – and a fine French Bordeaux, we adjourn to open the stockings. Of course, first they have to be filled.

So we each take the other's stocking to a different bedroom and fill it according to the range of ohhhs and ahhhs we wish to solicit.

This Christmas Eve when I returned to the living room with my wife's stocking she was already there, standing oddly to one side of the fireplace. For some reason she'd changed and was now wearing a red dress. Unless it was behind her, I couldn't see my stocking as I hung hers on the other side.

"Where's my stocking," I ask innocently.

"Right here," she says.

"Where?"

"Here, right here." She points to her chest.

"Behind you?"

"No, silly. Right here. Me. I'm your Christmas stocking."

My puzzlement slowly turns to a grin.

"Ohhhh, are you. Hmmm, so where's the stocking?"

She pulls up the hem of her dress just high enough so I can see the top of a nylon stocking. "I'm standing in your stocking," she says, her eyes twinkling.

"Yes, you are. So where do I start unwrapping my stocking."

"Well," says my wife. "Didn't you tell me that as a young boy there was always something sweet at the top of your stocking?"

"Hey, that's right."

"So come here and kiss me." I wasted no time gathering my wife into my arms and she gave me an amorous full tongue kiss. Her lips tasted of candy cane peppermint and her perfume of fresh peaches. As we clung together and my hands roamed down over her bottom. Didn't seem to be much under that dress, I thought – which, of course, caused my cock to respond, too.

"Did you always get an erection when you opened your stocking when you were a kid?" my wife asks, emphasizing her discovery by rubbing her crotch against my growing hardness.

"No, but then I never found anything in my stocking that tasted or felt as good as you do, either. What's next?"

"If I remember correctly you said the next thing in your stocking was something to play with, right?"

"Yes, usually a toy or a game or something."

My wife turned around. "Undo my zipper," she says. Slowly I do that, noticing my hands are trembling a bit. I'm both aroused and a bit nervous. My wife slips the dress off her shoulders, holding the material against her breasts as she turns back to face me.

"Perhaps you'd enjoy playing with these toys," she says as she lets the dress drop to her waist. She's braless and her large, full breasts are bare and beaming.

"I most certainly would," I say, a slight shakiness in my voice. I step forward and bend to take a taut nipple in my mouth, my hand grasping the other breast and giving it a squeeze. For the next five minutes I play with my toys, alternately sucking and kneading the breasts and kissing my wife's still sweet lips.

"I don't want to be in too much of a hurry," I say at length, "but what's next?"

In answer, my wife pushes the dress over her hips and it falls to her feet. She's wearing only sheer black thong panties with ties on each side and a pair of black thigh-high stockings. A bright red bow has been attached to the panties right over her pussy,

"I think you said there was only one wrapped present in your stocking, which you opened last."

"Right, the Dinky toy."

My wife folds her hands over the red bow. "She we'll call this your Kinky toy," she laughs. "And you can open it last. I think next you should take down my stockings."

I kneel in front of her and kiss the soft, smooth skin of her upper thigh above the top of the nylon. I ease the nylon down her thigh, kissing the skin I've exposed. When I reach her knee I push the nylon all the way down. She rests a hand on my shoulder for support and raises a foot so I can remove her shoe and the nylon. When I do I find another surprise. She has painted her toe nails a bright orange.

"I think you said there was always an orange in the toe. So . . . orange toes." I lean back on my heels and laugh, then lift her foot to kiss and lick her toes and then slowly kiss all the way back up her leg so I can remove the other stocking.

Now I'm kneeling in front of her, my face about six inches from the red bow that covers her pussy. The perfume of her arousal is evidence she is obviously as turned on as am I.

I pull the ties on each side of her panties and they slip open, revealing a freshly shaved pussy. I lick my lips in anticipation of the fun to come.

"Are they are special instructions for playing with this Kinky toy?"

"It works best if it's sitting or lying down," my wife says, taking a step backwards and sprawling on the living room couch. She spreads her legs and I can see the glisten of moisture between her pink pussy lips. With her fingers she pulls the lips apart so I can see her clit. "This is sort of the starter button. You lick it."

"You mean like this?" I take a long lick the length of her pussy ended at her clit.

"Ohhhh yes," my wife says, her voice trembling. I lick again. "Ohhhh gawd, yes that will get it started."

I lick again and again and again. My wife settles back on the couch, moaning softly, one hand tweaking a hard nipple, the other resting lightly on the back of my head. I've shorten my licks now, concentrating on her engorged clit.

"Oh gawd yes, right there," my wife groans, the hand on the back of my head now clamping tighter. She's thrusting into my face now, grinding her pussy against my tongue. I grip the both cheeks of her ass to hold my position on her clit.

"Oh gawwwd, I'm gonna cum . . ." Her hips lift as she squirms. "OOOOHHHH GAWWWWD . . . OOOOOHHHH . . ." Her body begins to shudder and she tries to twist away from my assaulting tongue but I squeeze her cheeks and hold my tongue tight against her clit and she cries and writhes and eventually collapses into the cushions of the couch. As she slowly calms I kiss the smooth skin around her pussy.

"What a wonderful toy," I say.

My wife laughs gently. "It does other things, you know."

"It does? Like what?"

My wife sits up and slips down into my arms, pushing me to the floor in front of the fireplace.

"Let's take your clothes off and I'll show you," she says. She's already unbuckling my belt and pulling my pants down. In short order I'm as naked as she, my cock proudly standing at attention.

"So here's one other thing it does," my wife says as she straddles me. "First we get your cock really, really hard." She gives it a couple of slow jacks with her hand, then bends down to swirl away a droplet of precum. Then she takes my cock into her mouth, sucking up and down on the shaft. It definitely is getting harder.

After about five minutes of that she sits up. She wraps a hand around my cock and slides forward so the head is right at the entrance to her vagina. "Then we just put it right in here," she says as she slips me into her pussy and moves to push it all the way. My turn to groan.

I reach for her bobbing breasts as we begin to gently fuck. She bends down to kiss me and whispers in my ear, "Yes, play with all your Christmas toys, sweetie." I groan and pinch here nipples and begin to thrust harder and deeper.

"Fuck me hard, sweetie," she chants. "Give me your cum for Christmas."

I need no further encouragement. The warmth spreads from my balls through my groin and then I'm pumping my cum into my wife's sweet pussy, my Kinky toy.

"You know, that really is a very special Christmas toy," I say as we cuddle and nuzzle in front of the fire. "But I just thought of something, where's the carrot."

My wife smiled. "I thought you brought that," she says with a grin.

I look down at my softened cock. "It's not much of a carrot now, is it?"

"I think I know how to fix that," my wife says as she takes my flaccid member into her mouth. It wasn't long before I was trying out my Kinky toy again.