Copyright© 2005 by Jefferson

Authors Note: While real life events DID inspire this story. The events did not occur together or in the sequence described here. The events have been fictionalized and some made up completely. This is a work of adult fiction. If you are not old enough to read this, please leave now. As always, it is dedicated with all of my love, to my beautiful wife. With my thanks to my wonderful editor, Terry.

Let's see, it was five years ago, December the 25^th 1999. Yep, that's when it was. It was, without a doubt, the most interesting Christmas I've ever had.

My wife and I had been having some problems just before that. I didn't realize it at the time but it was all my fault really. I was having trouble acceptingthe fact that I was turning thirty years old. It wasn't a conscious decision on my part, but the fact that it was coming, made me act like a real bear for the three or four months leading up to my birthday; which falls on December the twenty first.

My wife and I had drifted apart somewhat during these months. I hadn't made love to her in a number of weeks and she, being five years my junior and quite the little nymphet, was going nuts. Instead of making love, I was in the mood to make war. She was the person around me the most and the person I was closest too, the person I knew the best, I knew exactly how to hurt her, emotionally. My one redeeming quality during this period is that I never got violent. She was an easily available target for my anger and frustration.

That goes without saying, that once my birthday was over and done with, I suddenly chilled. It was as if I was a whole new person. My wife noticed it almost immediately. She didn't say anything about it until the next day. I suddenly became the man she had married again. Where for the last few months I had been moping around, depressed, angry, easy to madden, loosing my temper at the slightest thing. Once December twenty first came and went, I was back to being the fun loving, teasing, joking, cartoon character brought to life that I had been when my wife and I had met some three years before.

It took a few days for all of the hard feelings to go away, on both of our parts, but by the time Christmas Eve rolled around on the twenty forth, we were happy, smiling couple again. We went over to her parent's house on Christmas Eve and opened presents with them. I called my parents that night. (My wife and I made an agreement when we married that we would go in a three year rotation. One year we would spend Christmas alone, the next we would go to her parent's house and celebrate with them and then the next year, we would go to my parent's house. My parents got the worst end of it because they live four hours away. My wife's parents live only ten minutes away. We could go visit them easily. Going to visit my parents was an overnight ordeal, at least.) This was the year my wife and I would spend Christmas alone. It was only the second time it had occurred, the other time was the first Christmas we were married. That's quite a memory also, but that's another story.

The way the whole thing started was that my wife had hesitantly agreed to help her mother bake some Christmas style cupcakes for a party at my mother-in-law's workplace on Christmas Eve. So, we went out on the twenty-second and bought two boxes of cake mix, papers, icing and decorations for the cupcakes and cupcake pans, she had never made cupcakes before, so we didn't have a cupcake pan in the house. Later that same day, my mother-in-law called from work and announced that the Christmas party had been cancelled due to "lack of interest." Don't ask me how that happened. So, we now had two boxes of cake mix, cupcake papers, icing and decorations, as well as cupcake pans, which really aren't good for anything else, that we didn't need or especially want. My wife, being the clever girl she is, decided to go ahead and make some of the cupcakes just to see how she did at it. So we spent the night of the twenty second making cupcakes. We only used one of the boxes of cake mix and ended up with forty eight cupcakes for our troubles. Most of those were taken over to the in-laws house since I don't eat cupcakes on a regular basis. I'm more of a pie man than a cake man. My wife put the rest of the stuff away in a cabinet for use later.

The one part of cake, or cupcakes, I do like is the icing. Especially if it's cream cheese icing, which, by the way, this was. My wife started it by opening the icing, we had used one container of icing on the cupcakes, we still had one left though. She opened it, dipped her pretty little finger in and stuck it in her mouth. After that, it was open season on that little container of cream cheese icing. I saw her do it and insisted she bring me some. Over the next couple days, about half of that container of cream cheese icing was scooped out by one finger or another and shoved into one mouth or another. Sometimes it was her finger into her mouth, sometimes it was her finger into my mouth and sometimes it was my finger. That stuff is good!!!

The real fun started Christmas day. My wife and I woke up about nine that morning. We have no kids yet so there wasn't anyone to come in and wake us at the crack of dawn. I won't lie to you, my wife and I both had trouble getting to sleep the night before with the expectation of Christmas and presents the next morning. We were woken up by a call from her mother, not unexpectedly, the first thing she said when I picked up the phone was "Merry Christmas" in a very loud voice. That'll wake a guy up real quick. After a quick conversation with my mother in law I gave the phone to my wife, who was still laying in bed, and they talked while I smoked a cigarette and got my wife and I each a cup of coffee. With coffee in hand, I returned to the bedroom to hear my wife and her mother arguing about what time we should come over or whether we should come over at all. This was pretty common. I basically yanked the phone from my wife's hand, told her mother, who I generally got along with well, that we were spending Christmas day alone at our apartment. She said okay and we hung up. My wife growled at me playfully but took the offered mug of steaming coffee. "So, we got the day to ourselves. What shall we do?" I asked with a smile.

My wife turned to look at me and smiled. We each set our coffee mug on the nightstand beside us and then quickly got back beneath the covers. I pulled her to me, her warm, soft bare breasts mashed into my chest. Our legs intertwined. She lifted her head up slightly and I slid one arm beneath her neck and used it to pull her head to me and covered her mouth with mine and slipped my tongue into her mouth. We kept up kissing and I used the tips of my fingers to gently rub her back, shoulders, ass and the backs of her thighs. She used her fingernails and gently scratched my back and shoulders. It felt wonderful.

Thanks to the facts that we had spent six years together and that we had no children, my wife and I had spent a lot of time in bed together learning what the other likes. I knew exactly how to touch her to get her juices going and she knew exactly how to push my buttons. For the first time in a number of months, I pulled her panties down to her knees, rolled her on her back and slid a finger into her already wet slit. I found her clit, applied light pressure to it and began to move my finger in small circles. She moaned into my mouth and slid her hand into my briefs and wrapped her fingers around my already hard cock.

Within minutes, she was having an orgasm. She had me well trained. "Fuck me!" she whispered between kisses.

"When you've had ten orgasms," I told her and continued rubbing her clit. She rolled her eyes and groaned at this challenge as I covered her mouth with my own once more. This was a normal thing for us. We both loved these little games. The most orgasms she'd had in one sitting, so to speak, was twenty two, and that was just using my finger and was before we ever married. I kept going, kissing her and rubbing her clit until she had five more orgasms. I knew that I wouldn't be able to wait until she reached ten. If I had, she would have had a mess in the hand she had in my briefs and, for the first time in many years, I would have cum in my underwear. I fully intended to cum in my wife's wonderful, warm cunt.

With this decided, I pulled my hand out from between her legs, she groaned a plea for me not to stop but smiled when I rolled onto my back and started getting my own underwear off. She quickly followed suit and a thirty seconds later, our underwear was on the floor, I was kneeling between her spread legs and aiming my throbbing cock into her hole. She groaned again as I thrust into her. She was still tight, having only ever been with me, her cunt fit my cock just right. I laid my body on top of her and began thrusting into her in the missionary position. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to her for another kiss.

Five minutes later, we were both laying there resting and recovering and trying to catch our breath. She'd had two more small orgasms while I was inside her and a large, earth shaking orgasm as I came inside her. "That was wonderful," she said with a smile as my head lay on her soft breast.

"I'm very glad you enjoyed it. Wanna take a shower?"

"You read my mind," she said, we kissed again and then quickly rolled out of bed. I found it amusing that as much as my wife wanted to have a baby, she would regularly complain that the KY jelly we sometimes used, as well as my sperm, made her itch. So taking a shower after sex was pretty common for us. While I shaved, my wife sat on the toilet to relieve her bladder and allow some of my cum to drip out of her. After that, we jumped into the shower.

The shower lasted about forty five minutes. I washed her hair first, then the rest of her. I then shaved her underarms and pubic mound which she had trimmed before we met but shaved it clean at my request not long after we married. In order to keep it that way, according to her, I, not her, was responsible for keeping it shaved so it didn't itch. Another reason we regularly took showers together. After that, she washed my hair and then washed me. As she washed my cock, I got a quick blowjob, just long enough to get it hard but not nearly long enough to cum. It was during this blowjob that I began having my, what my wife calls, "evil thoughts" about my beautiful wife.

For being evil thoughts, my wife always seemed to enjoy my creative sexual ideas, which is what most were. My wife regularly calls me a "Dirty old man." I usually respond with "It's better than being a horny little teenager." I was five years older than my wife and her sex drive was geared much higher than mine. After getting out of the shower, I patted her dry and then did the same to myself. I then quickly led her back to the bed.

"What about the presents?"

"Later," I responded and pushed onto the bed. I got her laying down and then turned to leave. "Be back in a moment. Don't go anywhere," I shouted over my shoulder as I left the bedroom, pulling the door closed behind me and heading for the kitchen.

I'm pretty sure, just from the title of this story, you can guess what came next. A few moments later, I returned to the bedroom, the half full container of cream cheese icing in my hand. I set the icing on the nightstand, a big smile grew across my wife's face at the sight of it. "What are you going to do with that?" she asked as I climbed back into bed.