A Nephew's Mistletoe Magic Pt. 03

I woke up and glanced the clock. It was almost 5:30. I slipped out of bed, feeling a bit stiff but remarkably good. I could hear the TV down the hall, the afternoon game was on, and I went into the bathroom and cleaned myself up a bit.

I put on a blue satin babydoll, nothing too exotic but the bust was a lacy fabric allowing a little skin to show. I was going to need to do some shopping if I wanted to keep up the facade of only wearing sexy underwear though. Feeling deliciously naughty I decided to forgo any other clothing and went to find out what my young lover was up to.

He was not on the couch watching football as I had predicted, instead I discovered him in the kitchen. He had his back to me, standing by the island, knife in hand dicing something I couldn't see. He was wearing a pair of loose gym shorts and nothing else. I admired the way his muscles moved as he worked. He swept the contents off the cutting board into a bowl, it was chicken I realized, and stirred it for a minute before pouring it into a pan on the stove.

He already had a large pot on the stove, and he turned to get something from the fridge and finally noticed me.

"Hey good lookin, whatcha got cookin'?" I asked trying not to laugh at my own joke.

He smiled a bit nervously. God, how did he manage that I wondered? Being so confident and in control in my bed then this almost bashful shyness now. All I was sure of was I didn't want it to end, feeling my arousal growing.

"Just some chicken and pasta, I kind of raided your pantry, I hope that's ok. I didn't want to wake you up, and I thought you might be hungry."

"I don't mind one bit, it was thoughtful of you."

I stepped into the kitchen and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Then I'm going to pour myself a drink and go watch some football while you make me dinner."

I gave him a playful smack on the butt and did just that.

The late game was wrapping up, it had turned into a blowout, and I wasn't particularly invested, so when Oliver called out that dinner was ready I immediately turned the TV off and went to the dining room.

He had set the table quite nicely and he pulled out my chair for me as I approached.

It wasn't a Michelin star restaurant meal, but it wasn't bad, and the thought certainly counted quite a bit. I finished the last of my pasta, buttered a roll and was nibbling on it as I watched Oliver finish.

"Dinner was excellent, thank you very much," I began, "I'd like to ask you a question though."

"You're welcome, and sure, of course, anything."

He took a sip of his drink.

"You mentioned the other day, wanting to sneak in and look in my underwear drawer, what did you want to find?"

He blushed, looking down, and I hurried on," I'm sorry, that didn't come out right, what I'm trying to ask is what kind of things do you like? What were you imagining was under my dress?"

He looked up, a thoughtful expression had replaced the embarrassment.

"I'm not exactly sure, I mean when I was fantasizing about you," that word brought a flood of excitement to me, images of him furiously masturbating while thinking of me dancing through my mind, "I guess I didn't really know enough about that kind of stuff yet."

"What about now?"

"Well, definitely something like today. The way it sort of lifted your breasts, but didn't really cover them. That was really hot."

The blush was coming back, but he soldiered on, "and Friday, with how almost transparent that bra was...I really liked that too."

It was a start I thought, "Well, if you ever think of something you really like, or see it somewhere, I'm open to suggestions."

He smiled, "I'll remember that."

I smiled back, "thank you again for making dinner."

I stood up starting to clear the table, Oliver was on his feet, taking my plate from me then taking it to the kitchen.

I was picking up the basket of rolls when I felt him behind me again. Not like last time, not pressing me into the table, but firmly in place nonetheless. His lips were on my neck, gently kissing me, and his hands found my breasts, a strong hand cupping each one squeezing them gently through the satin. Then his hands were sliding down my sides, past the hem of the babydoll, then coming back up, underneath it, his warm hands on my skin.

His kisses seemed to increase in intensity as his hands discovered my bottom was bare.

My body was tingling, waiting, anticipating his next move, memories of our encounter in the kitchen running through my mind.

Instead, I felt him slowly lowering himself behind me. One hand held the babydoll above my waist, the other was on the small of my back, pressing forward. I shoved the remaining dishes out of the way as he bent me over.

Then I felt his lips kissing my bottom, alternating between cheeks. A sudden nip at my bottom brought a moan to my lips. I spread my legs further, opening myself to him and he rewarded me by running his tongue along my opening. His tongue just inside me, tasting me, exploring how wet he had made me.

His hands were on my bottom again, squeezing, and caressing. His grip tightened, and he spread my cheeks apart, his tongue was moving up now, closer...between my cheeks now. Oh, God I moaned as his tongue found my rosebud. I clung to the table for support, not trusting my legs, such an indescribable wave of pleasure as he licked and probed my bottom.

Just when I couldn't take it anymore, he stood up. One hand rested on my back, firmly, but gently. He wasn't holding me there, just letting me know he wanted me like that. I had no intention of disappointing him in that. I was expecting the feel of his hard cock any second, instead I watched as his freehand reached across the table, two fingers scooping up butter out of the butter dish.

What the heck was he doing? Then I felt his fingers, sliding between my cheeks, pressing a butter coated finger against my sphincter. Pushing slowly working the butter in, I felt myself slowly opening for him. Then his finger was inside me, I moaned as he worked it in deeper, then gasped as he removed it. He took another scoop of butter, that butter dish was going straight into the dishwasher part of my brain thought, as I waited for his finger to return.

Then it was back, only it wasn't his finger I quickly realized. It was that glorious hard cock of his. Pressing against me, a shiver ran through my body, not of pleasure this time, but fear. I'd never done anything like this, his finger had been the first time anything had been inside me like that, and that had barely fit.

No, no, I told myself, he wanted this, and I wanted to give it to him. I'd taken his masturbatory virginity, and he was going to take my anal virginity in some weird, perverse symmetry.

I felt the pressure building, I willed myself to relax, breathing deeply, slowly. It was the exquisite slowness he had shown before, and I was thankful for it as I felt myself stretching to accommodate him.

The tip was almost in and despite my efforts as gasp escaped my lips, the hand on my back was instantly gentle, caressing me.

"Are you ok?"

"Yes, yes," I said through clenched teeth, "please, don't stop."

He renewed his advance, the head was inside me, I was sure of it, the pain was still there, no, not really pain now, discomfort maybe I thought? But the pride I was feeling helped push it aside, I was doing it.

Somehow his body was pressed against me, it registered somewhere in my brain, that meant he was all the way inside, I'd done it. I savored my small victory, and he seemed to as well as we remained that way.

Then he was moving back. Just an inch or so, then forward. His motion was ever so patient, lovingly slow, giving me time to adjust before he went a little further.

Eventually he was going completely in and out, not thrusting, but a nice steady rhythm.

His breathing was getting heavier, and moaned," oh Janet, this feels so good...it's just...incredible."

A few more times in and out, a little more speed, and I almost bit my lip as it caused a stab of pain, I knew he was close, I wanted him to finish, desperately needed him to but to really finish, to cum inside me, not to pull out thinking he was hurting me.

I focused making sure my voice under control.

"Are you going to cum in my ass, baby?" I said in the sultriest voice I could manage.

"Yes, yes, I'm..." He never finished the sentence, letting out a grunt then he was filling me with wave after wave of his cum. Oliver was still for a moment, then slowly withdrawing from my abused bottom.

I found myself once again laying limp, face down on a table, listening to my lover's footsteps as he left the room.

I didn't have the energy or motivation to move, and I was still like that, idly wondering if that wetness slowly moving down my left leg was melted butter, cum, or, most likely I thought, some mixture of the two, when Oliver returned.

He was kneeling behind me, and I felt the sensation of a warm wet cloth on my leg, cleaning off whatever it had been. Then he cleaned the rest of my bottom, before setting the cloth aside and helping me to my feet. He picked me up and carried me into the living room and laid me on the couch, giving me a gentle kiss before returning to the kitchen.

I was sufficiently recovered to sit up, although my bottom was definitely still sore, and if by magic Oliver appeared with another rum and Coke, handed it to me, gave me a kiss and disappeared again. He was back 15 minutes later, his own drink in hand and sat next to me on the couch. I snuggled against him and he put his arm around me.

That nervousness was back in his voice as he asked, "Did you like it?"

I hesitated for a moment, not sure how to proceed, then decided to turn things on their head best to find out if this is going to be a problem before I make it one, "How was it for you?"

His face brightened, and I knew it was indeed going to be a problem, "It was amazing, absolutely amazing. You?" he repeated the question.

"It was OK, maybe not something we can do every time though."

He looked a little dejected, and I snuggled in tighter.

"It was my first time trying that Oliver, it's probably something you have to get used to a bit."

"It was your first time?" he asked with a look of incredulity.

"Yes, it was, you're only the second guy I've been with and... let's just say your Uncle Dale wasn't the most adventurous soul out there."

He seemed to accept that answer, and we sat quietly for a moment as the announcers started discussing the Sunday night matchup. Oliver perked up.

"Oh, crap, this is the late game."

"Yes, it is."

"Sorry I know it is, I mean, I just realized that makes it 8 o'clock. I've got to get home; I have a ton of things to do and I have to work tomorrow."

He got to his feet, then stopped turning back to face me, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to run off it's just."

I interrupted him, "it's fine, we're both adults, we both have responsibilities. I have to work tomorrow too."

He looked a bit relieved, and I continued, "Go get dressed."

I followed him back to the bedroom, I sat on the edge of the bed and watched as he began to dress.

He pulled his shirt on then stopped, "Do you have plans for Christmas?"

I did my best to hide the pang I felt inside, "not really, you going to your grandparents?"

"Yeah, Dad and I are meeting at his place at 2, then heading over. I was thinking, if you didn't have plans, maybe I could come by on Christmas eve, I got something for you."

"You already brought me presents, remember?"

"Well, yeah but, that was, you know, before. I wanted to get you something else."

"Christmas eve sounds wonderful Oliver."

He finished dressing and I walked him to the door, giving him a passionate kiss for the road.

I headed for the kitchen to survey the damage and discovered it remarkably clean with the dishwasher running. That's what the little sneak had been doing. I smiled and headed for the shower.

Work was incredibly boring, not much was going on the week of Christmas and I spent most of Monday doing some online shopping. Oliver wasn't the only one who had to reconsider his Christmas gifts in light of our change in relationship, and although they wouldn't be here in time for Christmas, I decided to use a little of my Christmas bonus to expand my naughty wardrobe.

The rest of the week was no better, and Christmas falling on the Friday didn't seem to help. I made it out and did some real shopping on Tuesday, as well as stocking the cupboards. Last time Christmas had taken this long to arrive I still believed in Santa.

Thursday finally arrived, the office closed at noon and we had our obligatory office party until 2 then everyone hurried home.

Oliver was supposed to come over at 6, and I spent the next few hours getting ready, baking some more cookies, having dinner ready to go into the oven, then getting dressed.

I'd found a "naughty elf costume" and I just couldn't resist, a green minidress with a flared skirt that stopped well above the knees. It was low cut in front and the neckline was trimmed in red faux fur. Little tassels hung from the skirt, and red and white striped stockings stopped an inch or so below the hemline, leaving just a touch of skin exposed. A black Santa style leather belt, and a green Santa hat completed the look.

I turned some Christmas music on and lit a fire. I was watching the fire when doorbell finally chimed. I found Oliver on my front porch, bundled against the cold holding a stack of packages, his black gym bag slung over his shoulder. I hustled him in out of the cold and he took the gifts straight to the tree.

It wasn't until he had set them down that my outfit registered on him.

A broad smile crossed his face.

"Merry Christmas" I said in a sultry tone.

"Merry Christmas" he replied taking me in his arms, pulling me in tight and kissing me with his youthful passion.

"Would you like to have dinner first, or open presents?" I asked after we finally parted.

He considered the question for a moment, "I think I'd rather open presents."

Ever the boy at heart I thought and we sat down in front of the tree. He picked up the small box that was atop the stack he had brought and handed it to me.

"This one first."

I opened the paper to find a small jewelry box, inside were a pair of earrings. They were small peacocks' silhouettes in silver thread, the body and tail feathers filled in with small green and blue gemstones. They had a vintage, understated elegance to them.

"They're lovely, thank you." I told him.

He was positively beaming, "I noticed you seemed to like peacocks, and I thought the green against your red hair would look really nice."

I nodded in agreement, still admiring the gift. He was a perceptive one, there were a few decorative peacocks around the house. They'd been my favorite animal as a girl, but I wasn't one of those women that covered her house in a theme, he'd had to be paying attention.

I gently closed the box, setting it aside I handed him a package from under the tree.

He tore into the wrapping paper. It was a leather overnight bag. He looked at it, then at me.

"Wow, this is really nice, thank you."

"Well, I figured you might want to," I hoped I didn't sound as nervous as I was suddenly feeling, "spend the night sometime, and you'd need something for your things."

"I'd really like that, and I really like this, " he said patting the bag, "thank you."

He handed me another gift from the stack. I felt a bit guilty, I'd only gotten him two things, the bag hadn't been cheap, but still...

I took it and removed the wrapping paper then opened it.

It was a green dress, I stood up holding it out to look it over. It was floor length, although there was a long side slit that went quite high. The v neck was cut rather low as well, he must be making an exception to his showing too much skin fashion sense.

"It's beautiful," I told him, "Did you want me to put it on?"

"No, I mean not tonight, I really like what you're wearing now, and" that nervous hesitation was back, " I was thinking maybe you could wear it when we go out sometime."

I knew how the Grinch felt when his heart grew three sizes, he wanted to go out? No matter how sweet he was, I'd decided I was destined to be a booty call until he met someone his own age, but this... I certainly hadn't expected this.

"I think that's a wonderful idea, I can't wait."

"I hope it fits," he added, "I kind of looked at the sizes of some of the things in your closet but..it's kind of confusing."

I couldn't help but laugh as I carefully put the dress back in the box.

"Yes, our sizes don't make much sense, but it looks close, and I know a pretty good seamstress to make some adjustments."

He looked relieved, and I sat back down and handed him his last gift.

He reached into the gift bag and pulled out a 32 oz blue crystal jar, it was filled with miniature Heath bars, I hoped they were still his favorite. The lid came up in a pyramid with a star on top. A leather thong was tied around it, the other end connected to a small leather-bound booklet.

He looked over at me, questioningly, I did my best to hide my nervousness, had I misjudged this? He'd given me sweet, thoughtful gifts and here I was giving him a book of erotic coupons. It had seemed like a really fun idea at the time, when I'd convinced myself he just thought of me as a fuck buddy, or whatever they were calling it now. The booklet had been at the same shop as his bag. It was a lovely little notebook with parchment pages. I'd had to practice my calligraphy a bit before I started, but there were a dozen coupons in there for various erotic acts, ranging from the mundane like a blowjob or naked massage to what I considered fairly kinky.

He opened the booklet, read the first page, glanced up at me and flipped to the next, then the next.

He looked up at me, a bit hesitant, "this is...real, I mean you're serious."

"Of course."

He flipped a few more pages, still pausing to look up occasionally. He got to the end and closed it, staring at it in his hands, and my heart was going 1000 miles an hour. Had I blown it?

After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes met mine, "So, just like any time I want?"

The eagerness in his voice calmed my frayed nerves, "Sure, I mean within reason, not when I'm at work of course, and one or two will require a bit of planning I think."

He nodded, smiling a bit more, "just tear them out and give them to you when I want to redeem them?"

"Actually, I was thinking I could stamp them, maybe date them. Then you'd have something to remember it by."

His smile grew, "I don't think I could ever forget this," he said as he patted the book protectively. "This is the coolest thing I've ever gotten."

"I'm really glad you like it."

He reached under the tree and handed me one of the last two packages. I opened it to find an emerald green teddy, as I held it up, I realized the whole thing was made of a sheer fabric, it would leave nothing to the imagination. I looked over at Oliver and he had a nervous smile on his face.

"You asked the other day, about what I liked, and I just thought how amazing you'd look in this."

I smiled, "thank you, I think it's quite sexy too."

He seemed a touch nervous again as I began to open the last box. I looked up and I was pretty sure he was biting his lip.

Wrapping paper out of the way, I lifted the lid off the box. It was a mass of black leather, and I was confused for a moment, then picked it up and held it out. I had to adjust things a little, I was holding it by the side initially but then it dawned on me.

It was a teddy, of sorts. Although other than the area that covered the groin it was all one-inch-wide leather straps. Two straps came off the bit covering the groin, going high over the hips and joining in back forming almost a thong. Other straps connected off these in front, crisscrossing the body at a 45-degree angle. The bust was simply an open circle for each breast, a strap going from the circles around the back and two going up halter style to connect to a leather collar. The back was nothing more than a strap going vertically down from the collar, connecting to the strap around the bust, then down to form the thong strap.