Amy's Christmas Guest Ch. 03

We all sat in the living room and ate pizza out of the boxes. Caroline opened a bottle of wine for us all; Amy grinned as her glass was filled, and I remembered that after all, it wasn't that long since she'd become old enough to drink.

We put the TV on and watched an old film. As the end credits rolled, Pam yawned and said, "Tim, you ready for bed?"

I nodded. I had no idea if Amy had anything in mind for us before the next day, but there was no way for us to communicate privately, so I wished Caroline and Amy goodnight and followed Pam up to our room. She closed the door behind us, and smiled at me.

"Thanks for the pamper day," she said. "I feel really relaxed, and on the way back I was thinking about what we might do when we were alone tonight."

I silently thanked the stars that Amy and I had last made love before lunch, so I'd have no trouble being ready to please my wife. Aloud I said, "Why don't you undress and show me just how pampered you are."

Pam slipped out of her dress, then turned her back to me and quickly shed her bra and panties. Then she slowly turned to face me. My eyes explored her figure, and I smiled broadly as my gaze caught one obvious change.

"Well," I said, "I never thought you'd try that one." She shifted so her legs were a little further apart, and her eyes offered a clear invitation for me to explore her freshly-depilated skin. I moved towards her, and ran my fingers over her smooth mound, then down to her already-wet entrance.

"Shall we move over to the bed," she suggested. I nodded, and she went to kneel on the bed. I knelt in front of her and resumed what I'd been doing with my hand, then bent to suckle her nipples. Her skin smelled faintly of lavender, and I inhaled the fragrance rising from her breasts.

"Mm, that's nice," she said. "But how about you take me first, then finish me off afterwards?"

"OK," I said, and moved round behind her. I was already hard, and I slid smoothly into her offered entrance from behind. I reached around and continued to touch her clitoris and breasts as I began to move inside her. She gave a small moan of pleasure, and I increased the pace of my thrusting. I began to approach my own climax, and whispered in her ear, "Nearly there." She began to shift her hips in time with my movements, and after only a short time I groaned, spurting deep into her. Then I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly.

My erection soon softened and I slipped out of her. "Now my turn again," she said. I reclined on the bed, and she straddled me, presenting her opening to my waiting mouth. I began to flick my tongue over her clitoris, then took it inside my lips, sucking it as though it was one of her nipples. Her hands were on her own breasts, and quickly she came to her climax, pressing herself hard against my mouth as she came.

Then she lay down on the bed beside me and pulled the cover over us, clicking the light switch off at the same time. I heard her breathing slowing, and soon it was obvious she was asleep. My senses were still alert for any communication from Amy, but I heard nothing, and quickly drifted off to sleep myself.

At breakfast, Pam reminded me that this was our last full day; tomorrow after lunch we would be driving back. I decided I'd find some way to spend another chunk of time with Amy; I couldn't have anticipated the scheme she'd already cooked up.

Caroline had asked Amy to help her with the housework that morning, and she did the various tasks in her scruffy clothes with her hair tied up.

Just after lunch, the phone rang, and Caroline took the call in the dining room. She returned after only a few minutes, her face pale, and Pam asked, "What's wrong?"

"Donald is very ill. They've asked me to go to him as soon as possible, and I think you should come too, Pam." Donald was Caroline's ex-husband, Pam's brother. And Amy's father, of course.

"It's several hours' drive there," said Pam. "We'd have to stay over at least one night."

Caroline turned to me. "Tim, I don't think Pam and I have any choice. We'll have to leave you here -- someone has to look after Amy. I don't think it would be right for her to go, even if he is as ill as they think."

My face showed concern, and a serious determination to help. "Of course, do whatever you need to -- I'll manage things here."

Pam and Caroline hurried to prepare what they would need for the journey, and got into the car. I leaned through the window and said to Caroline again, "Do whatever you need. Don't worry if you need to spend anything, Pam will put it on our joint credit card and I'll pick it up."

She smiled and said, "Thank you, Tim. You've set my mind at rest -- thank you for everything you're doing for us." And she leaned over to kiss my cheek.

The car pulled out of the drive and was soon out of sight. I turned and went back into the house. Amy was there, still in her dusty working clothes, her hair tied up, and her face smudged. I stood for a moment, looking at her, then took her in my arms and hugged her tightly, kissing her, ignoring the dust and smudges.

"I don't know what you did -- Donald will be OK, won't he? -- but this is beyond anything I could have expected," I said with my face buried in her sweet-smelling hair.

She smiled. "Dad does have a heart condition -- he's known about it for years -- and it occasionally gives him some discomfort. He's not as young as he used to be, so his doctor keeps a close eye on him, but he's not really ill. It wasn't too difficult for him to pretend to have chest pains, and they're very keen to let relatives know if there's any issue -- they don't want to get sued for having someone die before they can make their goodbyes."

"But why would he do that? Even if he's not really unwell, it's going to cause Pam and Caroline some worry."

"I told him I needed a favour -- I didn't explain why. But it suited him -- he figures now he's feeling his age, he wants to know whether they really still care enough to turn up when he has a problem. Well, I guess he found out. He won't care about causing them worry and inconvenience -- why do you think Mum divorced him?"

I hugged her again. "Well, whatever everyone's motivations, it works out well for us. What do you want to do?" I paused. "I bet you have a fantasy for this."

She looked into my face. "I do have something, but I'm afraid you'll think it's rather tame compared to some of the things we've talked about over the last couple of days."

"Go on," I said. "I'm game for anything."

"It might seem a little strange, given how things went between Mum and Dad, but can we... can we pretend to be married? We have the house to ourselves for twenty-four hours, we can do everything that a couple would do in that time." She paused for a moment and looked hard into my eyes. "Everything," she repeated.

"Well, if we're going to be out and about, the first thing I think you need is a shower," I said, licking a finger and rubbing at one of the smudges on her face.

"We need a shower," she corrected. She started to walk towards the stairs, and looked over her shoulder to confirm that I was following. She led me into her bedroom.

"This is our bedroom," she said. I nodded. She quickly took off her grubby clothes and threw them in the laundry hamper. I undressed too, laying my own clothes over a chair as though this was where they always were while I was sleeping or showering.

She walked across the landing to the bathroom, and stepped into the shower. I hesitated, and she said, "Come on -- we haven't been married so long that we've got bored with showering together. And you have to wash my back, properly."

I stepped in with her, and she turned on the water. She turned under the stream, until she was completely wet, her hair as well.

"Now, the soap," she said.

I picked up the bar and lathered my hands thoroughly, then began to wash her back. "Don't forget I said 'properly'," she reminded. I washed down the cleft of her bum and between her legs, but tried not to arouse her too much -- I figured we would save that for later. Then she turned to face me and I washed her front, again avoiding touching her nipples too much. She washed and rinsed her hair, then said, "How about I wash you?"

"Sure," I said. She did for me as I'd done for her, though she did cheat a little, paying attention to washing my penis, which of course began to harden. She smiled. "Later," she said.

"Of course," I agreed.

We got out of the shower, and helped one another dry off, then we went back to the bedroom. I dressed again, and she rummaged through her chest of drawers. "Turn your back," she instructed, "I want some of what I'm wearing to be a surprise later."

"OK," I said, obeying. I heard the snapping of fasteners, the rustling of fabric, then "You can look now."

I turned, and saw her in a simple skirt and blouse, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail. "Perfect," I said.

"I think we need to do some shopping first," she suggested. "The supermarket is just down the road".

I took the lead down the stairs, picking up my jacket, and we got into the car. I followed her directions to the supermarket, and we spent an hour going round, me pushing the trolley and Amy selecting items to throw in. We went to the checkout and I paid while Amy packed the bags. We went back to the car, loaded the boot, and drove back to the house.

I took the bags in, and Amy found the right places for all our purchases. Among other things, she had selected the ingredients for a meal for us that evening, and she went into the kitchen and started cooking. I followed her into the kitchen and stood close behind her, my arms around her waist, my face buried in her clean, fragrant hair. The aroma of herbs mixed with her scent.

I explained my feelings to her. "If you want to pick a moment so far when this feels real, it would be this one."

She smiled, and replied, "I know what you mean. But 'the best is yet to be'."

When the food was ready, we sat down at the kitchen table to eat. "This is really good," I said around a mouthful.

"Wonder if poor cooking is a big reason why people split up," she mused.

I snorted. "In that case, you have nothing to worry about."

We finished our meal and I washed up. She made coffee for us, and we took it into the living room, sitting on the sofa. It was getting dark, but Amy didn't turn on the light, instead leaning against me in the half light and sipping her drink.

"Well, the housework and the shopping are done, we've eaten, the dishes are done. What else do we need to do before bed?" Amy wondered aloud.

"If there was some DIY to do, that would probably be my job, or we could be planning to redecorate, or buy some new furniture," I suggested, thinking over all the things that occupied my time with Pam.

"Hmm, I think we can live without those parts," she grinned. "Come on, let's go upstairs."

She got to her feet and playfully reached out her hands to pull me up. Then she walked towards the stairs, her bottom swaying invitingly as she looked to see that I was following.

We went into the bedroom, and she said, "Well, let's get ready for bed. How do you think that would go?"

"I think," I said, "that I would watch you undress, then put on your nightdress" -- she smirked at that, as I already knew she didn't wear one -- "then I would change, and we'd get into bed."

"OK," she said. She faced me, and unfastened her skirt, laying it on the other chair. Then she slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing the 'surprise'; lacy knickers, and a white bustier with built-in straps for her stockings.

"Wow," I said. "Any husband would count himself lucky to be seeing this just before bedtime."

She unfastened her stockings and slipped them off, adding it to the pile of her clothing.

"Help me undo the hooks," she said, turning. I obeyed, carefully unhooking each fastening. When they were all undone, she slipped the garment off. I could not resist, and slid my hands round to cup her breasts.

"Hey, that's cheating," she protested. "We're supposed to change, then get into bed, then..."

"You're right," I said. "I just couldn't resist." I reluctantly removed my hands from her breasts, and stepped back. She turned again to face me, and watched my face as she removed her lacy knickers.

She opened a drawer and found a long t-shirt, pulling it over her head as a substitute for the 'nightdress'.

"Now you," she said. I quickly undressed, and laid my clothes on the same chair as earlier.

"Now, what are you going to wear?" she wondered. I lifted one of the pillows, and her surprise was obvious when underneath was my t-shirt and the shorts I usually wore to bed. I pulled them on, and said, "So, everything ready."

She nodded, and climbed into bed, choosing the right hand side and facing away from me. I lay down close behind her, pulled the duvet over us, and put my arms around her, holding her tightly.

We lay like that for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth and comfort of one another's bodies, then she stirred and said, "One last thing, then."

I smiled, my face buried in her hair, and moved my free hand down until I reached the hem of her t-shirt. Then I slid my hand up against her skin, cupping one breast. She stretched, and I began to gently caress her, feeling her nipple start to harden under my palm. I shifted position, enabling me to reach her other breast, touching it through the fabric.

"Take off my t-shirt," she murmured. She sat up for a moment, and I quickly slipped it over her head and tossed it onto the floor. We lay down again, and I continued to caress her now-naked body. She rolled a little toward me, and I slid a hand down her stomach and between her legs. I felt the wetness there, and she turned fully onto her back to give me access, parting her legs. I began to slide my finger over her wet entrance and touch her clitoris. I shifted onto one elbow, so that I could begin to suckle her nearest nipple, and she responded with a gasp.

"I want you to use your mouth on me," she said.

I moved down the bed and positioned myself between her legs, beginning to touch her clitoris with my tongue while I slid a finger inside her. I put my other hand underneath her, lifting her to my mouth. I could tell that she was using her hands on her own breasts now, and in only a short time, it was obvious that she was nearing her climax.

"Oh, yes!" she breathed, and I gently curled my finger inside her, touching another sensitive spot. She arched, and her orgasm shook her entire body, as I flickered my tongue over her clitoris until I was sure she was spent.

I moved up to lie on top of her, and wrapped my arms around her while she recovered. Then she pulled me upwards and her mouth sought out my nipples, suckling and licking. A small amount of fluid leaked from my erect penis onto her stomach, and she smiled against my chest.

"I want you in me now," she said. I slid off her, and rolled her onto her side, facing away from me. She bent one leg at the knee so that her entrance was accessible to me, and I entered her from behind. She turned her head over her shoulder to kiss me. The light from the bedside lamp illuminated her face, and the mixture of ecstasy and contentment in her expression was barely distinguishable from pain.

I began to move in and out her, my movements becoming more urgent. Her mouth on my nipples had made me very aroused, and it was only a short time before I groaned and spurted into her.

I reached over, our bodies still linked, and turned out the light, and we drifted off to sleep.

I woke the next morning when the dim light filtered in through the windows, and lay still, just looking at the beautiful young woman beside me. I knew that our fantasy had to end sometime, but I knew also that I would never forget this Christmas.

I slipped quietly out of the bedroom and down the stairs, and made breakfast -- toast, juice, coffee. I took the tray upstairs to find Amy sitting up in bed. She smiled when she saw what I'd brought. "Wow," she said, "if this is what it's like being married, I could cope with it."

We ate in companionable silence, then I set the tray on the floor just outside the bedroom door and went back to bed. "Had enough breakfast?" I asked.

"Well..." she said, "I think both of us could probably find room for something else." She sprawled on the bed invitingly, and I lay down by her, but with my head towards the foot of the bed. I bent my head, and kissed her mound, and she mirrored the gesture, placing a kiss on the tip of my penis. She parted her legs, and I began to explore her with my tongue, feeling as I did so her mouth surround me. I flicked my tongue over her clitoris more rapidly, and was rewarded as her mouth and hands moved on me, giving intense pleasure. As she neared orgasm, I felt her breath against me coming in gasps, and she climaxed before me, breaking off her attention to me just for a moment. Then she began again, running her tongue over my shaft, taking my full length inside my mouth, using her hands.

"I'm coming," I groaned, and as each spurt came from me she tightened her lips around my head and accepted the fluid into her mouth, swallowing, then used her tongue to ensure that none escaped.

I held her tightly for a few moments, then switched position to embrace her.

"Wow," she said, "another first."

"Mmm," I said, "is there anything we haven't tried?"

"Well, we've not done what I imagined with 'Ralph'", she mused.

"Maybe if your mum and Pam stay away long enough..."

She grinned. "Meanwhile, what shall we do with our morning?"

"I'll go out to the shop and get some papers, shall I?" I suggested.

She nodded, and I quickly pulled on my clothes and walked the few minutes to the newsagent and back.

When I returned, she was in the living room, wearing a dressing gown. I sat beside her, and we took our time with the papers, reading each other interesting snippets and critiquing politicians, journalists and sports personalities.

"We seem to think alike on a lot of things," I remarked. She turned to me, her eyes looking into mine, and nodded without speaking.

Just then we both heard the sound of a car in the drive. "It can't be Mum," Amy said, a puzzled look on her face. "She'd have called first to say they were on their way back."

She got up and walked into the hall, just as there was a knock on the door. Amy opened the door, and the surprise in her voice was evident as she said, "Sally!"

Her older sister stepped through the door, followed by John, her husband. "Mum called us," Sally explained, "and we thought we'd just pop over to check that you were OK."

"Tim and I are fine," said Amy.

I stood up and joined her. "Hi, Sally. Good to see you again, John."

"Would you like some lunch? I was just going to make sandwiches," offered Amy.

Sally looked at her, obviously trying to reconcile the confident, thoughtful young woman in front of her with the slightly stroppy and awkward teenager she might have expected. "That'd be lovely," she replied.

Amy continued, "Make yourselves comfortable in the living room -- we have today's papers if you want to look at them."

"Come and give me a hand?" Amy asked me. I followed her to the kitchen, and when we were out of sight of our visitors, she grinned broadly and said, "This is fun! I bet we can keep up our fantasy without giving the game away, if we're careful. I've met lots of couples that you couldn't guess were married from the way they behave to one another when other people are around."

"OK," I said, returning her smile. "But do be careful." She tossed her head at me with just a hint of rebellion, and started buttering bread.

We took the sandwiches and coffee into the living room. John and Sally were sitting on one sofa, looking at the papers. Amy and I sat on the other sofa, a clear few inches between us. I silently blessed her sense in not being obviously close to me.