A Rose for Christmas

"This too shall pass," Paul whispered to her. "Things got better for me, they can get better for you too!"

Rose sniffled and nodded. "You're right, they can. But every time Don pulls something like what he did tonight, it's clearer to me, they're not going to get better with him. I tell myself it's good for the girls if we stay together, but it isn't."

She looked expectantly at Paul.

"I don't know what to say," Paul said. "I don't know anything about raising children. But I do know you deserve better, Rose." His arms ached to hold her, but that was out of the question. "Do you want to go upstairs now? I didn't mean to depress you!"

Rose nodded. "Don't feel bad. This helps, really." Then she looked him in the eye with a knowing gaze. "But it probably is best if I go upstairs. I should see how the girls are holding up anyway."

Paul insisted on paying the tab, and Rose insisted on walking with him back to the elevators. Paul privately wished she wouldn't, as he wanted so to hold her that it almost hurt to keep his arms to himself. But he did. The cavernous lobby was drenched in Christmas cheer as well, culminating in a gigantic tree at the center just inside the main entrance, which was framed in twin stairwells with wrought-iron bannisters. The night outside was pitch black, of the type to which Paul had become all too accustomed, but it was oddly comforting now. Rose's hand brushed his a few times as they walked, and both of them laughed awkwardly but took no further action. A few other tired-but-happy travelers milled about, taking little notice of the pair.

Rose was staying on the seventh floor, Paul on the tenth. Once the elevator door shut on them, he turned to her. "I really want to apologize again --"

"Don't," Rose said gently, and she put her arms around him. Her whole body felt much like her hand had earlier: warm and soft and immensely inviting. Paul felt himself get hard, and he was almost certain Rose felt it too, for she laughed a bit nervously and gave him a final squeeze. "Talking to you tonight was just what I needed. Merry Christmas." As the door opened at the seventh floor, she kissed him -- closed-mouthed, but on the lips -- and was off.

Paul had all night alone in his room to imagine Rose there in his arms. He tried not to at first, as he knew all too well how nasty those fantasies could get when he knew he'd never hold her again. He'd had the harsh reality of never knowing what sex with Serène might have been like to cope with for all those weeks now, and he hardly needed a second near-miss to torment him in the night. But the lilt of her accent and the curve of her hips were just too much, and he did have a beautiful hotel room with a huge bathtub to himself for a change instead of the increasingly depressing little flat he'd left behind. When he finally went to bed much later that night, he was sore down below, but happy.

Since it was a holiday, Paul had not set the alarm. So he woke fairly late the next morning, pleasant memories of Rose's companionship still dancing in his head. No use in dwelling on that, he told himself -- if he wanted a fling on this trip, best to look for someone single at the bar tonight. With that settled, he was off to the slopes.

He stayed all day this time, up and down as fast as his skis would allow, two minor wipe-outs but nothing serious, no thought of coming back in until the sun was sinking below the majestic mountains. A few times he was tempted to go back into the lodge to warm up, and maybe even visit the hot tub -- but the prospect of an idle mind meant he'd be pining for Rose once again, and that was to be avoided. Fortunately he never crossed paths with Rose or Don or their girls while skiing, and he did his best to put her from his mind just as he'd been doing with Serène.

The sport did its job in keeping his mind elsewhere, and he was pleasantly exhausted and clear of mind when he arrived back in his room early that evening. Last night's fantasizing had not been forgotten, but Paul told himself a more promising encounter could just as easily happen tonight. Maybe a no-strings-attached fling that would cast Serène out of his heart once and for all and Rose as well for good measure, and then he could get back to being happy on his own. To that end, he put on his hippest black turtleneck, a sportcoat he had bought just for the trip with some of his day-trading loot, and his nicest pants and shoes. If he had to endure seeing lovely Rose with that bastard, at least she'd be eating her heart out too.

Paul allowed himself that thought once, and then reminded himself once again -- "I will not be bitter for Christmas." Not for Serène, not for Rose. He did not need a woman to enjoy his holiday.

For all that, Paul was afraid to look around the lobby much as he strode purposefully to the restaurant. The sounds and smells of holiday joy were everywhere once again, and Paul remembered to smile at the playful children and older folks he passed on his way to the restaurant. He was relieved to arrive there and find plenty of empty tables, and allowed a cursory look at all the young families he could detect -- they weren't there.

"Table for one, please," he told the hostess.

From behind came the beautiful voice he had resigned himself to never hearing again. "Care to make it two?"

Paul turned around. There stood Rose, wearing a pleated red and green tartan skirt and a big smile. She was also wearing a red sweater, black tights and earrings shaped like miniature Christmas trees, but they both knew what caught Paul's attention and they both burst into knowing laughter when he looked back up into her eyes. His vow to keep his distance forgotten in an instant, he wrapped her in an unabashed embrace and then told the hostess that he did indeed want a table for two instead. Preferably a nice quiet booth for two in a corner somewhere.

"Don didn't even know I packed it," Rose said as soon as they were alone, having correctly anticipated Paul's first question, about her skirt. "I thought it would be perfect to wear to dinner some evening, but then he made those silly comments last night and I thought, there goes my nice surprise for him."

"It certainly is a nice surprise for me," Paul said. "But if you don't mind my asking, where is Don? And the girls?"

"Don is off fucking the nanny, actually."

"What?!"

"Well, he doesn't know that I know, of course, but he is. He had some excuse about business at his company's office in Geneva that they shoved off on him because they knew we were here, and he asked the nanny to join him for some help with typing some reports or something."

"I don't suppose she can even type, can she?" Paul asked.

"I don't know," Rose admitted. "I do know his company doesn't have an office in Geneva!" She let out a long laugh, which died down just in time for the champagne she had requested to arrive. She and Paul clinked glasses and took a long drink each.

"And the girls?"

"The hotel has a babysitting service. I told the girls I had to meet up with a friend. They wanted to meet my friend too, actually. I said maybe next time!"

"If I'm lucky," Paul said with a contented smile.

"If they're lucky!" Rose retorted with a hungry smile.

The champagne and appetizers were top-notch, and the conversation was long and easy. With last night's reticence out the window, Paul went on unabashedly and without shame about Serène and all the hopes she had inspired in him ever so briefly and the dark places he'd been to since then, and his fears of just what might await him when the holidays were over and he'd have to go home. With no further need to hide his attraction to Rose, he also told her very frankly how delightful it felt to be attracted to someone new. "I know it would be terrible for both of us to fall in love just now," he said cautiously.

"Horrible indeed," said Rose, "but tempting all the same."

"Then we agree," Paul sighed contentedly. "That's a relief."

"So for the time being we can just focus on the fun part, can't we?" Rose asked. "I mean, it is a holiday after all." She gave him a shy smile. "And a time for giving."

The waiter arrived just in time with the main courses. Paul was speechless, and relieved that he could leave her last comment hanging there in the air until he was sure he wasn't dreaming. Once they thanked the waiter and set about their dinner, he found himself so overcome with the thrill of the moment and the champagne buzz that he still didn't say anything.

"Paul?" Rose asked after a few silent minutes had passed. "I'm sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"

"No!" He reassured her, reaching across the table to caress her hand. "Not at all! It was just such a wonderful thing for me to hear, I couldn't think of a good response. Anything would seem too mushy or insincere, I guess."

"I get the sense with you it's okay to be mushy," Rose told him. "And it's certainly okay with me." She ran her foot up his leg under the table.

"So if I told you I spent most of our conversation last night wishing I could hold you..." Paul could barely speak.

"And I would have loved that," Rose assured him. "Let's face it, Paul, we've both given our hearts to people who don't deserve them, and this is the worst time of year to be living with that when you could be with someone who thinks you're wonderful. So why be lonely when we can be together instead? Even if it is just for these few days."

"I guess I told you I never had sex with Serène," Paul mused.

"Yes. And I haven't told you I haven't had sex with Don in months now. But I haven't. Some nights I even climb into bed beside him without a stitch on and he barely even notices."

"Wow, I'm sorry!"

"It's his loss, isn't it?"

"Yes, absolutely," Paul laughed mildly. "What I was getting at, though, is I'm of two minds about having never slept with Serène. It means I'll never know what it would have been like, and that's a tough pill to swallow all right. But if we had done it once and it had been wonderful, knowing I'd never get to make love to her again would have been even worse. So sometimes I'm glad I don't know. For the same reason, I've been saying all these weeks I'm never even going to try for a relationship again. And I'm afraid now."

"Afraid I'll be too good for you, are you?" Rose laughed, then stopped quickly when she realized she was right. "Well, Paul, look at it this way. Look around you. It's a winter wonderland, a fairytale, here, like you're living inside the Christmas spirit. I think you said that yourself last night. Of course it's not like real life."

"That's what I love about it all right," Paul said.

"So if on top of everything else you can also make love to a stunningly beautiful older woman with lots of experience, wouldn't that be right in keeping with your dream, then?"

Now they laughed together, as loudly as they dared in the subdued restaurant.

After dessert, a pregnant pause ensued as Paul and Rose admired one another in the mellow dim light. Though both would have gladly raced upstairs at that moment, Paul felt the need to play the perfect gentleman. It went with the territory, after all. Standing up, he took Rose's hand firmly but gently in his to help her up, and then didn't let go as they walked together from the restaurant.

"Heavens, it was such a chore to keep my hands to myself last night in there," Rose said, squeezing his hand, as they waited for the elevator.

"For you and me both," Paul said. "Can't believe that was only last night."

"Don't I know it!" Rose agreed.

The bell rang, the door opened. As soon as it shut behind them, Rose and Paul were drawn together like magnets. Neither tried to kiss the other just yet; instead they both exulted in the thrill of holding and being held. The ride up to Paul's floor was just long enough to drive them both even more wild with desire as they clung to one another. Paul's very feet seemed to spring up and down off the carpet as he guided Rose down the hall, and he felt pins and needles everywhere. To look at Rose, he could see the feeling was mutual. There were no words until they entered Paul's room, when Rose asked for a moment to "freshen up".

"Of course." Paul turned on the bathroom light for her, and then made his way to his king-size bed. He'd ordered it because he'd already been going for first class on everything else about the trip and he liked being able to stretch out in every direction when he slept...and, he now admitted to himself, because he had hoped to meet someone like Rose. Or rather, he soon corrected himself, he had hoped to meet someone. He couldn't have dared hope for anyone so wonderful as Rose, not the way his luck had been the past few months.

While Rose was busy in the bathroom, Paul began to worry that she might be undressing in there. He'd been looking forward to undressing her himself. The thought of asking her please not to crossed his mind, but then he got a better idea. While listening carefully for the bathroom doorknob, he quickly stripped down to his boxers and, after tossing his clothes discreetly on a chair, curled up on the bed so he would almost look naked from the right angle. Though slightly nervous over what she would think, he put on a sly smile and waited for the bathroom door.

Rose was still fully clothed but for her shoes, and she was thrilled at the sight. "Oh my!" she squealed, and flung herself alongside him on the bed. "I am a lucky lady tonight, aren't I?"

"Makes two of us," Paul managed to say just before Rose pinned him on the bed and stuck her tongue deep in his mouth.

She rubbed his bare skin appreciatively up and down every inch of his body that she could reach from her perch on his belly, wasting no time in reaching into his boxers and flicking about at his penis, which snapped to attention. "Oh dear," she teased, "It's been far too long since I've caused one of those." Gripping harder on his erection, she leaned in and bobbed up and down just above him, and her generous breasts -- still wrapped in her sweater -- tickled his chest delightfully.

Paul yelped at her touch down below, and shook with pleasure at the sensation of her body straddling his. He pushed up with his hips as best he could, which wasn't much, while she ran her fingers daintily up and down his torso. He wiggled, but Rose wasn't going anywhere. Two could play at that game. He found the hem of her skirt on each side with both hands, and lifted it. Rose leaned down again to kiss him, but not before he managed a glimpse of her red panties barely visible behind her tights. Though he closed his eyes for the kiss, he could feel as well as ever under her skirt, and hooked his fingers inside the waistband of her tights to pull down just a bit. Nothing was going to be removed just yet with her legs spread, but Paul was able to rub Rose's well-hidden flesh just above and around her pubic area without touching anything too intimate. She squealed in approval, and it gave him an idea.

After a few more minutes of barely-interrupted kissing and Rose rubbing Paul's chest while he teased her hips and belly, he finally reached up rather than down, and pulled up her sweater. Rose had apparently been waiting for just such a move, for she quickly straightened up and raised her arms to help pull it off along with her undershirt. Her bra was the same shade of red as the sweater, and it was delightfully lacy and tight with strain against her heavy breasts. "Finally saw fit to unwrap your present, did you?" she asked. "I was beginning to worry you never would. Now don't be shy." Sliding off Paul at last, she reached under her skirt and pulled off her tights and panties quickly. Then she lay on her back beside him, her legs spread as wide as her half of the bed enabled.

He could now reach under and touch anything he liked, Paul knew...but he didn't, yet. To Rose's surprise, he leaned over her and began kissing and rubbing her belly. He teased upward with his fingers, but stopped just short of touching her bra, much less trying to remove it. Nibbling a bit harder now, he reached down and ran his hand up her now-bare thigh until he could sense her moisture without quite getting his hand wet, and stopped there. He then ran his fingers back down her leg as far as he could reach, and back up the other leg to the same point.

"You bloody tease," Rose sighed. But it sounded like she approved.

Paul moved both hands back up to her belly, and rubbed harder now but still didn't make any move to further undress her. They had all night, after all. Once or twice he reached just inside the waistband of her skirt, causing a squeal of anticipation from Rose, but he never reached too far down. At long last, he straightened up beside her and kissed her again on the mouth. Eagerly Rose put her arms around him and rolled on her side. With his hands conveniently behind her back, Paul went to work on unfastening her bra. He was out of practice and it took longer than it should have, but Rose did not appear to mind. Once she could feel he had undone the clasp, she eagerly pulled back and wiggled out of the straps.

Rose had full, plump nipples that fit well with her large breasts. She pushed Paul's head gently down towards them, but he carefully avoided contact with the nipples and instead kissed gently at the underside of her left breast. "Good heavens, you take your time!" Rose groaned with a throaty laugh and a deep breath. Paul found the sides of both breasts with his hands, and rubbed gently, at first only on the sides, while Rose moaned her approval. He slowly worked his circles outward, and kept his touch light -- just grazing her tender skin on both sides.

"Oh god, Paul, nipples, please. They're itching for you!"

"Mmm-hmm," Paul teased. He leaned down and kissed her between her breasts, and drew out the circles his fingers were making still more. Then he sat up and changed course with his hands, rubbing the sides of her breasts harder with his palms, and drawing two firmer circles around both nipples -- always stopping just short of crossing into the darker skin, where he knew he was creating an itch to be touched. Rose leaned her head back on her pillow and groaned in anticipation. He could see her nipples were now stiff, and he longed to play with them as much as she wanted him to. But not yet.

Paul swung one leg over Rose and straddled her as she had done with him earlier. His hard cock, having long since bulged its way out of his shorts, poked Rose's belly warmly, and they both enjoyed the sensation. He applied more pressure now in caressing her breasts, and finally stopped the circles and rubbed more firmly all around the sides and edges. With Rose now breathing more heavily than ever and beginning to moan aloud, the time was right. Paul leaned down over her left breast and set his mouth over her nipple. Just breathing heavily upon it made her yelp with delight. He wet his lips and then pressed them down and licked her nipple firmly, and was rewarded with a squirm and the loudest moan yet.

"Oh, Paul, about time. The other one!"

Still kissing her left nipple, he caressed the right one firmly with his fingers, pulling harder as her voice rose in approval. While he was busy with her breasts, her own hands found his hard cock and gripped at it with a pleasant squeeze. Paul grunted his own approval while he continued, now alternating his mouth and hand on each of her breasts.

"I want you now," Rose moaned.

"But we're not even naked yet," Paul teased.

"I can fix that," Rose said. She thrust up her hips and, with her free hand, reached back to unzip her skirt. It took both hands for her to push it down over her hips. While he was waiting, Paul followed suit and pulled his boxers off, enjoying his first look at Rose's pussy as he did. Since it was winter and she hadn't been intimate with her husband lately, Paul had suspected she would not have bothered with trimming or shaving, and he was not disappointed. The carpet matched the curtains, as she sported the same reddish shade below as above.