Secret Sexy Santa

Before you say anything, I already know it...

I shouldn't be jealous of my best friend.

But as we sat there in his living room it was hard not to keep a touch of envy from spiking up in my chest. The view from the wall-to-wall eight-foot-high windows was like a living photograph of Eden — rolling foothills down into the luscious valley beneath us. The room itself was spacious and modern, with open wooden beams overhead and opulent leather chairs and a pair of matching sofas gathered around a huge fireplace. In the corner, a giant, decorated Christmas tree towered majestically over us.

"Wow..." was all Melanie could gasp as she looked out the window and gasped.

I admired my wife's tight ass in that red, figure-hugging dress as she stepped up to the glass, and hoped I would be unwrapping that Christmas present later tonight.

Don't get your hopes up, buddy, I told myself morosely. The odds of that were pretty slim these days.

"Adam, this is my wonderful wife Brianna."

I turned at the sound of my name and almost choked on my own tongue. Standing next to Dean was one of the sexiest women I'd ever seen.

Brianna's body could have been designed from a teenage boy's wet dream: high, voluptuous tits, flowing golden hair and the sculpted features of a model or actress. I couldn't check without being painfully obvious, but I would have bet she had a pretty fantastic ass, too — Dean always had been an ass man. Standing next to my best friend, her evenly-tanned skin was a perfect accent to his dark chocolate coloring.

I managed not to cough on my own saliva as I swallowed and hoped I had controlled my facial features in time. "Brianna," I said, extending my hand. "I'm Adam. It's nice to meet you."

"Adam!" she gushed, brushing past my hand and hugging me. "Dean has told me so much about you."

I coughed uncomfortably as I hugged her back, feeling her round tits pressed against my chest. Don't even think about it, I warned my body sternly. Since I'd been getting less and less bedroom action from Melanie, my cock had the irritating habit of coming to attention when I saw a woman I liked.

Of course, my body didn't listen. A rush of blood drove south as Brianna held the hug slightly longer than I felt was perfectly necessary. This also gave me the chance to catch a scent of her vanilla perfume. My best friend's wife smelled like dessert.

Melanie's icy cough was what finally made Brianna pull back.

"And you must be Melanie!" Brianna seemed equally excited to meet my wife, and Melanie's hard expression softened, if only slightly, as she was pulled into another hug. It may have been my imagination, but this one seemed significantly shorter than the one Brianna had given me.

"Happy to meet you," Melanie answered, tucking a wayward lock of chestnut hair behind her ear. She looked like she already wanted to escape this enthusiastic woman, but Brianna didn't give her a chance. She grabbed my wife firmly by the hand and practically dragged her out of the room.

"Come on!" she said, her voice bubbly. "Let me give you the full tour! I know Dean's been dying to spend some guy time with your husband. You know how long it's been since they've seen each other!"

Based on the size of the mansion as I'd seen it from the outside, a "full tour" could easily take 30 minutes. So as my wife shot a glance over her shoulder at me and the two women clicked out of the room on their heels, I was left alone with a man who I wasn't sure I even still knew.

Dean had been my best friend since before both of us could read and write. We'd met in preschool, before I even knew that race existed, and somehow the little black kid who was good at sports ended up staying friends with the little white kid who was kind of mediocre at everything.

Now, 5 years since I'd last stood face to face with my old friend and college roommate, I wondered what was about to happen.

"Man..." Dean sighed, the first to break the silence as we stared out the window at the view. "It's been a long time."

I chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah. You could say that."

There was another sigh and then I felt Dean's hand drop down on my shoulder.

I turned to face him. His expression was serious, and for a moment I was worried. Is he dying or something? I wondered. Is that why he reached out after so long? Bad news?

Instead, he said something I would never have expected. "I'm sorry, Adam," he told me solemnly. "I want to apologize for falling off the grid for so long. I know I messed up when it came to my friendships, and I just wanted to let you know that I still hold you in the highest regard."

I was taken aback. "No worries, man..." I said, a little uncertain. "I know we've all been busy."

His hand was still on my shoulder, and he squeezed once before letting it drop back to his side. His dark eyes, though, never left mine, and I could tell he was serious.

"You're right," he said. "I have been busy. Products to create, businesses to grow... It's been a ride for sure. I just wish I had taken the time to bring a friend or two with me." He seemed almost wistful, and whatever irritation I'd felt at him for disappearing for so long from my life vanished.

I punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Lighten up, man!" I said. "I just wish I'd known when you moved back to the valley. Then maybe we could've hung out on the weekends or something."

He nodded, smiling slightly, but I guessed that there was a reason he hadn't reached out. Who knew, maybe he didn't even take weekends off. Dean always had been the guy to go all in on whatever he was doing.

"So..." I said, slapping a hand on his shoulder and steering him toward the rest of the house, where I hoped we could find a kitchen. "How about we pop open a couple cold ones and you tell me what you've been up to for half a decade?"

Dean's pensive look hovered over him for another moment and then he let out a deep breath and grinned. "Let's do it, brother," he told me. Then, he winked, and I knew that 5 years apart hadn't weakened our friendship in the slightest. "And you'll have to tell me how you met that fine piece of ass you call your wife."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Only if I get the rundown on that goddess of yours."

"Bet," he chuckled. "But if you're looking to drink my beer the kitchen is the other way."

***

The modern, elaborate kitchen had marble countertops and pretty much every high-tech gadget I could imagine. It also had a pair of big, glass-paneled doors that opened out onto a beautiful porch, where Dean and I sat with a six pack between us and a pair of brewskies in our hands.

The cool glass against my palm and the surprisingly warm evening air were a perfect match, and for a moment I could almost forget that Christmas was just around the corner. There were strings of Christmas lights strung along the porch bannister, and I wondered whether Dean had done it himself.

"So," I began, taking a sip and feeling the bubbly drink tumble down the back of my throat. "You've spent the past five years doing what? Building a business and working out?"

Dean laughed softly. "A couple businesses, yeah," he answered. "And I've been known to lift weights every now and then."

I raised my eyebrows. "Every now and then?" I laughed as I gestured up and down his figure with my bottle. "You were always in shape, but now?" Dean had always been the fit, athletic kid in high school and college. But whereas before his build had been the thick, muscular one of an athlete he now had the slim lines of a model. His cheekbones were defined in his face, his jawline was chiseled, and it was clear in his tailored shirt that he had dropped some weight.

Meanwhile, I'd struggled to keep my weight gain to a minimum. Maybe that was one of the reasons sex with Melanie had been dwindling away in the past year or two, I mused, gazing out over the valley. It was a beautiful sight, lit by the sunset, and I could imagine the golden glow washing all my worries away.

"So what businesses are you in?" I asked, trying to keep my thoughts on the present.

There was a pause before Dean answered, and I glanced over to see him staring off into the sunset as well, pondering thoughts of his own. I started to wonder if he had heard me, when he looked my way and answered. "Manufacturing," he said. "I make and sell children's toys."

I gaped for a moment, then I grinned. Of all the entrepreneurial ventures he could have told me, this one was the most unexpected. A thought struck me. "You're like Black Santa!" I laughed, and I saw a matching expression on his face at the idea.

"Damn straight," he grinned. "By the by, that reminds me..." He set his beer down. "Give me a second. Black Santa has something for you." Dean eased out of his chair and went back inside. He returned several minutes later with a small package wrapped in red and green wrapping paper covered in little pictures of candy canes. "You've always been my best friend," he told me, and handed it over. "I'm sure in the five years since I reached out, you wondered if that was still the case."

I didn't nod, but I'm sure he could see the affirmation on my face. It was true, I had wondered.

"That's why I wanted to give you just a little thing to let you know that you're still at the top of my list. Consider it... an early Christmas present."

I smiled, embarrassed. "Man," I said, hefting the gift. It was very light, like it contained something made of glass. "I didn't think to bring you anything."

Dean shook his head. "Maybe you can come over again in a couple days for Christmas dinner?" he invited. "That's all I'd like — my best friend here to celebrate the successes life has given me."

I laughed softly but shook my head. "I'd love to, man, but we always go over to Melanie's parents' place for the holidays. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas... I bet we'd be over there for Valentine's day if they could come up with a good enough reason."

"You like seeing them?" he asked, seeing my expression of distaste.

"I hate it."

"Well..." Dean seemed thoughtful for a moment. "Give it some time and see if you can't change her mind. Brianna and I would love to have you."

I nodded agreeably, knowing that Melanie wouldn't change her mind anytime in the next century. "I'll do that."

"Hmm..." he said, and then we sat in silence for a few minutes, admiring the growing twilight over the valley until Brianna called to tell us that their tour was over and it was time to come in for dinner.

***

Dinner was excellent.

The food was fantastic (Brianna admitted they had a full-time chef who cooked their meals), and the company was just as good. It felt great to be catching up with Dean, and Brianna wasn't nearly as ditsy as she'd originally appeared. Several times, unfortunately, I think Melanie caught me staring at Brianna's tits, but other than that things seemed to be progressing perfectly.

I anticipated a few more drinks after dinner, and plenty of time catching up with my best friend. There was so much ground to cover, and I couldn't wait to dive into everything that had happened since college.

Then, as soon as we'd finished dessert, Melanie gave me a look and stood, pushing back her chair." Thank you so much for having us," she said, smiling politely. "But Adam and I are really tired and are going to be turning in early."

I, of course, was not tired in the least, but knowing that Melanie would probably leave with or without me I gave Dean an apologetic, disappointed smile and offered him a fist bump. "Yeah," I lied. "But we'll be around again real soon."

Dean nodded silently while Brianna expressed her gratitude for having us, but he made sure I didn't forget my early Christmas present before we swept out through the impressive, French oak front doors. The wreath on their front door shuddered slightly as the door closed with a thud of finality.

Melanie was silent while we got in the car and the engine rumbled to life, only speaking after a few moments of pregnant silence.

"Don't think I didn't notice you flirting with her," Melanie told me sourly as I pulled out of the driveway. She had her arms crossed under her tits and her impressive cleavage would have been mouthwatering if I had dared to look.

Here we go. I grimaced and kept my eyes on the road. "I wasn't flirting with her," I replied, trying to keep my voice even. "I was just trying to be friendly toward my best friend's wife."

"Hmm." Her sound effect told me just how much she believed me. "And I suppose that little bulge in your slacks was just your way of being friendly, too?" Her hand reached out to trace her fingertips across my thigh, close enough to wake my eager dick.

I clenched my jaw. It's not like you're taking care of that problem, I wanted to say, knowing she was just teasing me to make a point. My body is so starved for sex that any woman's touch would get me like that. And Brianna was definitely not just any woman.

"It's a biological reaction," I told her, the excuse sounding lame even to myself as my prick lengthened in my pants. "A man's body gets excited when it touches a woman. Nothing else."

Melanie didn't deign to respond, a sniff and a dismissive toss of her hair as she turned to look out the window signaling her disapproval and irritation with me. Her hand went back to her own lap, leaving me with a throbbing cock and the knowledge that the only release I would be getting tonight would be from myself.

So much for unwrapping you from that dress tonight, I thought, disappointed. Now all I have to look forward to is that little Christmas package from Dean.

As we drove pulled out of Dean's long driveway and onto the street in the gathering dusk, I had no inkling of what was about to happen.

If anything, it was a Christmas fucking Miracle.

***

I'd never quite been sure where things had gone wrong between me and Melanie. Maybe they never had, and I just had the wrong expectations, but it felt like one minute she had been the supportive, excited girlfriend I'd always wanted and the next she was the frigid wife who acted like sex was a favor and I was doing nothing to earn her goodwill.

Perhaps I was being unfair to her, or maybe I'd just misjudged her to begin with. Melanie was definitely the hottest girl who'd ever gone out with me — tall and busty, with the toned tummy and tight ass of a woman who spent plenty of time in the gym. Her wavy brunette hair was shot through with blonde highlights, something I'd always loved, and her beautiful face was nothing short of breathtaking. The first time we'd had sex, I thought I was going to die from sheer pleasure overwhelm. Maybe I'd been so infatuated with her that I hadn't taken the time to understand our mutual expectations before my proposal.

Then, on the other hand, I wasn't sure what more I needed to do to win her affection. I worked at a well-established law firm in the city, just a 30-minute commute, where I was on my way to becoming a partner in a few years, and we had stayed in the valley instead of moving closer to work because she wanted to live by her family. I brought in a good income, which left her free to spend her time working as a freelance editor for self-published authors (something she had always been passionate about). She earned a little money, but I was the real breadwinner, and I'd thought we had everything necessary for a happy marriage — financial security and jobs we were both excited about, as well as a mutual attraction. But, no matter what I did, she never seemed satisfied, and that meant that the amazing sex that had blinded me during our courtship had become a less and less frequent prospect. All that was left was a gorgeous woman who seemed to believe I was no longer good enough for her.

As we pulled into the driveway of our suburban home, I measured our house up to Dean's mansion. I'll admit, it looked a little dreary by comparison. We had no Christmas lights decorating the outside, no festive lawn ornaments or even a wreath on the front door. On top of that, of course, it was an average-sized home in an average development — not the hilltop castle of a successful entrepreneur.

Still, I told myself. There's just the two of us, we don't need that much space and we're better off than plenty of people I grew up with.

Melanie and I didn't speak as I unlocked the front door and she breezed coolly by me into the house. Our small Christmas tree looked bare without ornaments where it stood in the living room, but I plugged in the lights anyway and tried to summon up some holiday cheer.

I knew Melanie probably didn't care that much about my "flirting" with Brianna — which I still didn't believe I had done. It was just the most recent opportunity for her to gripe at me, which I think had become her latest hobby.

My wife went straight upstairs and into our bathroom to shower while I dropped Dean's gift on the bedside table and collapsed onto my back on the bed, sinking into the mattress and closing my eyes. For some reason, now that Melanie had brought her up, I couldn't get Brianna out of my head.

I imagined Dean's smoking hot wife sinking gracefully down before me, her full lips wrapping around my cock as I fucked her face. I could see myself gripping her by her blonde mane, pulling her head back as I pounded her on her hands and knees. I imagined her screaming my name as she came, the orgasm ripping through her body and her tight, perfect pussy clenching around my shaft.

Snap out of it, man! I thought abruptly, sitting up and snapping my eyes open. My cock was rock hard in my pants, but I balled my hands into fists and tried to ignore it. That's your best friend's wife! Taking a deep breath, I shook my head, knowing that no matter how much as I tried to resist it Brianna would be the image in my head as I masturbated later tonight when my own wife had gone to sleep.

To distract myself from the throbbing hard-on between my thighs, I reached over and picked up the gift Dean had given me. There was a note attached that I hadn't had the time to read, so I unfolded the simple card and read the following words:

Dear Adam,

You've been a good friend to me through the thick and thin all these years. I hope you enjoy this gift. I made it for you because I have one myself and it has made life 10x easier and more fun.

Cheers and I'll see you soon.

Your brother and (hopefully still your) best friend,

Dean

P.S. Show it to your wife. She'll love it. Merry Christmas.

"Huh..." I muttered, turning the box around in my hands and setting the card back on the side table by the lamp. The box was small, too light to be a book but about the right shape. I wondered, for a moment, whether it might be some piece of jewelry — I didn't see much on him tonight, but in college Dean had gone through a phase when he had loved to wear rings, chains, necklaces... even an earring or two.

No... That would be kind of weird, I thought, then decided to just cut to the chase and open the damn thing already.

The paper ripped with the same satisfying sensation that it had when I was 6 years old sitting under a Christmas tree with my own family around me. Beneath it was a white cardboard box, which I ripped open just as happily to reveal...

What the hell?

What I saw inside confused me. It looked was a small wand about six inches long with a clear plastic sphere at one end and a button in the shaft. Inside the sphere was some sort of tiny light bulb. It looked like one of those things you buy for a child at a planetarium gift shop, the kind of toy where you press the button and the sphere lights up with a bunch of pretty colors.