Her Christmas Present

As I drove the car off the western by-pass, around a roundabout and into the so-called 'Fir Tree Development', I could feel a rising cocktail of emotions. Irritation, since my two kids, Poppy and Ava, were busy knocking lumps out of each other in the back seat of the car. Anger, because my fuel warning light was dangerously close to blinking on and I only had myself to blame - I'd completely forgotten I needed to fill up when I was out shopping and had driven past about five petrol stations since, totally oblivious. Sadness, because I was only going to the hateful 'Fir Tree Development' to drop Poppy and Ava off with their dad and step-mum to spend Christmas afternoon and Boxing Day there. I'd had them for Christmas Eve and the morning of Christmas Day, so it was supposedly 'fair', but Mike and his new partner Julie showered the kids in wholesome affection and expensive gifts, while I showered them in furious outbursts when they acted up and jigsaw puzzles I'd got from the charity shop for 99p each (only a few pieces missing). And finally, despair, because despite the hell the kids were raising in the back seat which I'd finally given up trying to tell them off for, after dropping them off I was going back to an empty house to spend the afternoon alone.

Mike and Julie lived at number three, Fir Tree Drive, one of the big houses on the edge of the estate. Mike had never had any money when we'd been together, since being a part-time nightclub bouncer didn't pay much. Of course, he was pursuing his dream of becoming a professional golfer, which actually lost money overall due to the cost of ever-more-expensive equipment to 'give him the edge'. I ground my teeth. Julie came from a wealthy family who owned two of the biggest farms in Aberdeenshire, so a four-bedroom detached home on the edge of a fancy estate was well within her budget. To add insult to injury, Mike had given up the bloody golf when he'd moved in with her and now worked part-time as an employment coach at the job centre, looking after the kids on his three-and-a-half days a week. Julie was a tennis coach and had exactly the body you're picturing - tight, perky and athletic. There's another one to add to the despair - Mike had left his curvy wife (me) for a stick-thin tennis coach.

Number three was festooned in fairy lights with a cheerful wreath on the door, and I deliberately parked the car twenty yards down the road so I wouldn't need to be right outside. Ava and Poppy could do with the exercise, anyway, since breakfast had been half a box of Quality Street each and they were practically foaming at the mouth from the sugar rush.

"Merry Christmas, Laura," Julie said, brightly, opening the front door as I wearily turned the corner.

"Happy Christmas Julie," I said, before being drowned out by yelps of joy from the girls as they sprinted up to Julie and gave her hugs. Mike appeared, looking every inch the relaxed, confident father in a ironically-bad-but-not-actually-ugly Christmas jumper and jogging bottoms.

"Merry Christmas, Laura," Mike repeated with a shit-eating grin.

"Happy Christmas, Mike. I'll be back on the twenty-seventh after lunch to pick them up?" I asked, trying not to show how I felt. I hoped he had anything but a happy Christmas.

"Perfect," he simpered, picking Ava up for a cuddle. "Girls, say bye bye Mummy."

"Bye bye Mummy," Ava and Poppy said in unison, like perfect Christmas angels.

"Be good, you two," I cautioned, then wished I hadn't. Who wants to be the disciplinarian on Christmas Day?

Back in the car, I jabbed at the radio until some vaguely jingly Christmas music came on and then plodded my way back round the western bypass towards Aberdeen and my empty, lonely house.

If number three Fir Tree Drive was mortgage-free, spacious, built to a high standard and perfect for family living, then number seventy-two, Don Road was only-just being paid for by my job as receptionist at a solicitor's firm in the city, cramped, built by cowboys in the 80s oil boom, and perfect for an afternoon watching TV, drinking an entire bottle of white wine I'd been saving for this exact occasion, and scoffing whatever chocolates the girls hadn't eaten. At Mike's, the girls had their own bedrooms and both of them had a TV of their own in there. Here, there was one TV in the entire house (a hand-me-down from my parents) and the girls shared a room. I looked sadly at the sorry-looking tinsel wrapped around the door knocker as I unlocked the door and let myself in, entertaining a brief, momentary hope that maybe someone had thrown a surprise party for me and the house would be full.

It wasn't.

I shoved a box of Poppy's dolls into a cupboard and surveyed the carnage of discarded wrapping paper and half-eaten sweets that currently constituted my living room and promptly decided I couldn't deal with it today. I was wavering between making a cup of calming tea and just going back to bed when my phone buzzed with a message.

Doug: Kids dropped off OK?

I took a calming breath. Doug was the one bright spot in my life. Well, obviously the kids were bright spots in my life, but they were also apparently even brighter spots in the life of Mike and Julie, and-

Okay, that's enough about my ex-husband and his new wife.

Doug was a bright spot because he was just for me. We'd been dating for about a year but we weren't getting-engaged-or-moving-in serious. Doug loved Ava and Poppy but it was me he wanted to spend time with. I'd met him through a friend who set us up on a date (thank you, Cynthia) and we'd clicked right from the start. He was funny, kind, good with his hands, seemed to know almost everything there was to know about animals (the girls loved this) and always made time for me. Plus he was handsome (when he was clean shaven, his beards were patchy and scratchy), only a few grey hairs here and there and he was in good shape. He'd never been married but had been in a long-term relationship that had gone wrong, so he understood something about what it was like to be divorced. The only real drawback was that he worked on oil rigs, so he would disappear for a fortnight at a time for work. That's where he was now: spending his Christmas Day in the company of the other engineers and pipe-monkeys (his words) in the middle of the North Sea. I messaged him back.

Laura: Just got home. Exhausting morning! The kids loved their presents, though, thank you x

Doug had got Ava a soft toy reindeer, biologically correct without the red nose, and Poppy a soft toy parrot, her favourite animal. In fact, those were the two toys the girls had chosen to take with them to Mike's.

Doug messaged straight back, which he only did when he was on a break or something, but I was excited to hear from him. Helped the house feel less empty.

Doug: Pleased to hear they went down well! All quiet out here x Any chance you found your present yet?

I had to think about this. In the chaos of the morning I couldn't recall opening one from Doug. I hunted around under the drifts of paper but couldn't find anything I recognised.

Laura: I must have missed it, is it in a small box? The girls have made it look like a tornado passed through x

Doug: I left it in a safe place... Have you looked under the guest towels?

I kept the guest towels in the airing cupboard on the top shelf and would have almost no reason to look under them. My suspicious mind got to work and by the time I was at the top of the stairs I was convinced it must be an engagement ring.

Lifting the guest towels, I found a box wrapped in plain brown paper with a white tag attached, which read, 'Dear Laura, Happy Christmas, if you find this before Christmas DO NOT OPEN, lots of love Doug xxxx'

Laura: Found it! Did you run out of snowman wrapping paper or something?

Doug: Didn't want one of the girls opening it by accident! Take it through to your room and open it exactly five minutes from now xx

Laura: Why? Is it a bomb??

Doug: Just do it! Message when you've opened it x

I looked at the clock on my phone. Okay, five minutes. I guessed he probably wanted to do a video call once it was open so he was walking to a quiet part of the rig. Maybe it was an engagement ring after all, although the box was far too big. Or maybe he didn't want to do the whole ring-thing for an engagement and it was a necklace. Still, the box was too big. It wasn't especially heavy and it didn't rattle when I shook it gently, so nothing was given away. With a few minutes on my hands, I grabbed the wine bottle from the fridge and a glass and took it upstairs with me.

I got comfortable on the bed and my phone buzzed.

Doug: Did you open it?

Laura: No, it's only been 3 minutes!

Doug: Good - don't open it until I say so

Laura: What's all this about??? I'm dying to know now

Doug: What are you wearing? Let me guess: those stretchy jeans you got after Ava was born and some kind of jumper you dug out of the dirty washing.

I couldn't admit he was right on both counts.

Laura: The jumper came out of the wardrobe clean, thank you very much

Doug: If you want to open your present, put on that green dress you wore on our second date x

I knew instantly which one he meant. It had been the impulse purchase of all impulse purchases: a knee-length, bottle green dress which was clingy but not skin-tight and was high-neck, but it had a cutout in the front which showed off masses of cleavage. So much that I'd had to use nipple tape for the first time because there was no way you could wear a bra underneath. The TV wasn't the only thing I'd got from my mum - I'd got her blonde hair (supplemented by a bottle of dye occasionally), her big boobs and her hourglass figure. The dress was designed to draw attention away from my mummy-tummy by blowing his mind with my boobs, although in reality the dress was actually quite flattering to my tummy too. Doug had all but drooled over it right through our second date, which was exactly the intended effect, since I'd really liked him after the first date and was afraid he'd go off me, especially with all my baggage.

Laura: If I do that and the present turns out to be socks, I'll kill you

Doug: No promises x

After downing an entire large glass of wine for courage and then having a few sips from the next glass for luck, I ditched the old jeans and the jumper, which I cast back into the pile of dirty laundry from whence it came. Today I went braless and no nipple tape under the dress, and I swapped comfy Christmas-morning knickers for a grey thong which wouldn't show under the fabric of the dress.

Laura: Changed! Now can I open it? x

Doug: I need visual evidence ;) x

Typical bloke. I posed, pouted, squeezed my boobs together and snapped the picture. It wasn't perfect but Doug had been away over a week - he wasn't going to be picky.

Doug: Gorgeous! xx You look fantastic, Laura. Is that a full wine glass I see next to you??

I smiled to myself. Doug was unfailingly positive about my appearance, even when I was in my most awful clothes, and it was a trait I couldn't get enough of.

Laura: Aw, thank you x You've been keeping me from drinking the wine

Although, I thought to myself as I waited for his reply, it was probably easy to be complimentary when my nipples were poking through the dress.

Doug: You're in bed? x

Laura: I'm sitting on the bed, now let me open my present!!

I could practically see Doug sitting there somewhere, laughing in his way, with big gasps of air in between that made it sound like he'd just heard the funniest joke ever told.

Doug: You can open it...

Putting my phone down on the bedside table, I hooked my fingernail under the corner of the paper and ripped into it. It was a brightly-coloured box in aqua and pink, which on closer inspection very obviously contained a sex toy. Given Doug's conduct so far, I probably ought to have guessed. And no, I wasn't disappointed it wasn't an engagement ring: Doug struck me as the kind of guy who, romantic as he was sometimes, wouldn't spring that on me out of the blue.

But in any case, it was a sex toy. My boyfriend's big Christmas present for me was a sex toy. Ordinarily I might have been a bit put off by this, but the wine was going to my head and I really, really wanted things to go well with Doug. The picture on the box showed it was curved, like a 'C' shape, and it looked as if it vibrated. The box was made out of a fancy material and it looked expensive, and when I got the lid off and looked inside I realised it was one of those remote-control types. There was a setup guide which showed you how to use the 'Love-Apart' app to control it. It felt nice, though, a smooth, soft kind of material. It came with a charger and as much as I looked at it, I couldn't see how to switch it on. I consulted the guide.

'Press the SYNC button to SYNC your Love-Apart Arrow with the Love-Apart app.'

I found the SYNC button, which was discreetly on the top of the toy, and pressed it. It vibrated softly once in response, but I couldn't tell if it was on or not. I went back to the guide, but it started talking about the controls in the app. I picked up my phone to reluctantly download the app but I had a message waiting.

Doug: I see you've got it out of the box...

I stared at my phone for a second and the penny dropped. The app wasn't for me - it was for Doug! That was so naughty. I giggled a little to myself, took another big mouthful of wine and sent him a response.

Laura: I see you've already downloaded the app!

Doug: It's been on my phone for weeks waiting for this moment...

Laura: Give it a try and I'll tell you if it works

There was a delay of a few seconds, then I felt the toy buzz into life. It had a very soft vibration, almost so soft that it felt like it was humming rather than vibrating. It built up to an increase in intensity and then slowed down again.

Doug: Could you feel that?

Laura: Yes! Seems to be working OK

The vibrator stopped again and I put it down on the bedclothes while I finished my glass of wine and poured a third. I felt a little bit nervous. Doug and I had slept together, of course, but between childcare duties and him being away for work it had only been a handful of times. And it hadn't progressed much beyond snogging-get naked-missionary: I'd given him a blowjob for about a minute once in the shower and he'd fingered me, but really I wouldn't characterise our sex life so far as 'adventurous'. And using a remote-control vibrator definitely counted as 'adventurous' in my book. Now I was worried I had been too vanilla for him so far and he was wanting more, but equally I wasn't sure if I wanted more. At thirty-eight, was I past the experimenting phrase? I had another glug of wine to fortify myself before returning to my phone.

Doug: Shall we test it out more thoroughly this afternoon...?

Between getting more wine and getting into my own head about things, I hadn't responded to him in over five minutes and I realised that made me look reluctant. I steeled myself. Maybe this was a good solution to Doug being away so much, if I could just get over myself and enjoy it. The house was empty and Doug was clearly into this. It was Christmas - I should just have fun.

I stood up off the bed and wobbled for a moment, the wine rushing to my head. Then I unceremoniously pulled my dress off, threw it onto the floor and climbed back into bed, getting cosy with pillows propped behind me. I took a deep breath (and more wine), then snapped a quick selfie of myself, smiling, boobs out, vibrator next to me.

Laura: Does this answer your question...?

I added the blowing-kiss emoji as an afterthought to the photo's caption. Doug replied instantly.

Doug: WOW! Did I ever tell you that I love your tits??

Laura: You might have mentioned it ;) x

Doug: I love your sexy tummy and thighs too

I was very self-conscious about my tummy. Having two kids had meant my body never quite snapped back to how tight it had been in my early twenties and I always worried about it. But Doug seemed to have picked up on this and never lost an opportunity to tell me how much he loved it, which sent a warm glow through me.

Laura: Thank you x You're the best

The vibrator buzzed once, quickly, next to me.

Doug: I wish you were here, I'd have big plans for you

I couldn't resist.

Laura: Stuck in the middle of the sea with a load of sweaty blokes? No thanks ;)

Doug: Haha, you'd be the centre of attention for sure!

I thought about this. A bunch of guys eyeing me, looking at my big boobs, unable to stop staring as I walked past... there were worse ideas, especially after three glasses of wine. Or was it four now?

Laura: Maybe I'd like that after all...

Doug: Oh? You like the idea of being the centre of attention?

Laura: Is that too naughty??

Doug: Absolutely it's naughty but there's no such thing as too naughty

I giggled. I could hear Doug's laugh again in my head. The vibrator came to life again and hummed gently.

Doug: How are those beautiful nipples feeling?

In my slightly-drunk state it took me a few seconds to join the dots. I picked up the vibrator and traced it gently over my tits. They weren't especially sensitive so I had to press a little more against my nipples to really feel it.

Laura: If you go a little bit more intense they'll feel even better

I felt the vibrator hum louder and I lay back a little, putting my phone by my side and focusing on the feeling of the vibrations on my nipples. I had to admit, it actually felt really good. Somehow I was just in the right mood for it and my nipples were getting stiff in response. I squeezed one and gasped gently at the sensation, then felt the vibrator's intensity starting to vary. I held it against my other nipple and closed my eyes, the ups and downs of the vibrations going through me deliciously, my other hand gently pulling and pinching. This felt great.

I looked down at my phone.

Doug: I take it that you're enjoying it?

Laura: Definitely...

Doug: I want you to put your hand in your knickers and tell me how wet you are

Mm, I sort of liked this side of Doug.

Laura: Are you in your room??

Doug: I wish! I'm performing a routine visual safety valve check that just so happens to be in a very secluded spot

Laura: So you can't get turned on by this?

Doug: Oh, I can get very turned on, but I just can't do anything about it...

I bit my lip and pinched my nipple. Fuck, that was hot. Knowing he was controlling the vibrator, telling me what to do, knowing I was lying here getting turned on but he's stuck there, unable to do anything but fantasise... I slid my hand into my knickers.

Laura: Well my hand is down there and I am very wet

Doug: I love that... are those knickers still on?

I threw them on top of my discarded dress.

Laura: Not any more!

Doug: Good girl ;) Do you know how the vibrator is supposed to work?

It seemed like a stupid question but when I thought about it, it wasn't so stupid after all. The 'C' shape had one thick end (with the SYNC button) and one slim end, whereas all the vibrators I'd ever seen in the past were more cylindrical and self-explanatory.

Laura: Why don't you tell me? ;) x

Doug: The small end goes inside for your g spot and the big end presses on your clit

Ahh. Now he'd said it, that made more sense. The toy was flexible so it could be adjusted to the right shape, too. I gently flexed it to try it out.

Laura: Can you turn it off while I get it in place? x

A few seconds later the humming stopped. I was still wet so once I'd spread my thighs and put a pillow under my back to get into a more comfortable position, it wasn't too difficult to gently slide the small end into me and find a spot that felt good. Being totally honest, I hadn't actually used a sex toy before. It wasn't that I didn't like them, but when I touched myself I just used my fingers or sometimes the shower head. Actually having a toy inside me didn't quite feel natural and I held it there, gently pushing my clit into the thick end, wondering whether I was doing it right.