Chapter 38: Bridesmaid 004 / Warming father Christmas 001

“Why, Jess,” she teased, “You naughty, naughty pussy licker, you!! Doesn’t my baby girl taste divine? Get your mouth in there, honey, and have a good taste.” I felt her hand on the back of my head as she pressed me onto Becca, and my mouth closed around the entirety of her cute little slit, my tongue slipping into her viscid opening. I’m not sure how genuine Becca’s vocal encouragement was, but she sighed and purred as she rocked her hips to direct my attentions, up and down at first, then holding for me to focus on her tiny hooded clit, my tongue running little laps around it until it grew weak. Out of either impatience or envy Paige pulled me back and put her own tongue on her lover’s now glistening pussy, and I watched as she hungrily and quickly brought her to orgasm, her thighs flexing against both of us as her body trembled. This was just too much fun, watching these beautiful girls suck and cum and devour each other, and I felt like it was only going to get better.

Paige sat up and positioned her open legs between Becca’s, their pussies aligned so that they could grind onto each other. I crawled up a little further next to Becca to watch, and helped myself to the girlish rise of her tiny breasts, first caressing, then kissing, then sucking her rosy nipples into tiny hard pebbles. Seeing Paige grind onto Becca, it seemed as if this was how real lesbian fucking took place, rubbing cunt on cunt, oscillating their hips back can forth. Their moans had changed from playful and pleasant to deep and fervent, and their pretty faces held the furrowed looks of extremely intense pleasure. There was no other word for it: they were fucking the hell out of each other. And big strong Paige started making the most darling little high-pitched squeaks as she started to cum. So fucking cute and so fucking hot at the same time, and as I lay there next to them, I fingered myself as I enjoyed the show.

And so it went like this for at least another hour, maybe more. We’d maneuver ourselves into pleasant positions and finger and kiss and lick each other into various states of mutual ecstasy. I rubbed pussies with both of them, first on the bottom but then on top, and each time it was amazing, so intimate and primal. At one point I was on my knees between Paige’s legs with my ass elevated, and felt the indescribable pleasure of Becca’s tongue on my anus, first just licking it in broad, flat strokes, but then pressing it into me, literally tongue-fucking my ass while she rubbed my clit from underneath. Holy shit, that was amazing. I’d tried anal before without too much pleasurable success, but I’d never had a man worship my ass the way she did with such sensual abandon. Also, and to my amazement, it seems Becca’s precious little pussy could accommodate all of Paige’s fist, something that all but transported her beyond consciousness. I let them try it with me but couldn’t quite manage it, although just by getting four fingers deep into me I could see how good it would feel to have my vagina stretched and relaxed and filled so completely.

So we lolled around and fucked, then rested, then fucked again into the wee hours of the morning. We got some more room service when we got hungry, and occasionally rinsed ourselves off in the shower, alone or in pairs. I found myself wanting it to last forever, even though I knew it was impossible. And I kept pushing from my mind how I was possibly going to tell Ariel about it, or if I even would. It was just so magical being with these to women.

In the morning, as I was slipping back into my dress before heading to my room, I thought back to that moment in the mirror when I first bought it, and wondered how much of a role it had played in how the evening had transpired, and how it would forever embody this turning point in my life, if that’s what this would turn out to be. If nothing else, it opened up a whole new horizon of possibilities for me, and gave me a new appreciation of feminine sexuality.

Before I left them, I shared these thoughts, and that I was still probably awash in this new sea of change. They were very sweet and did their best to empathize, but being in a totally different stage of life I don’t think they really could. I wondered aloud if the three of us would ever be able to repeat the experience, despite the travel it would require, or whether I’d be able to find someone else to share myself with where I lived. They both softly laughed when I said this, which made me feel silly and naïve.

“Trust me, Jess,” Paige said, “It simply will not be a problem for a woman as beautiful as you to find another woman, or two, or three, of any age, to join you.” I smiled and blushed, staring at my feet. These girls made me feel so young! “And I hate to tell you this,” she continued, “but that pack of wolves you were dealing with last night? Well, you’ve pretty much just double the size of it. And I’m here to tell you, resisting those she wolves can be a bitch.”

The End.

Book title: **Warming Father Christmas**

It was late afternoon on Christmas Eve. I had wrapped all the presents for the grandchildren and made sure all the ingredients for the dinner on Boxing Day were in the refrigerator. I was sitting down with a well-earned cup of tea when the door bell rang. I swore under my breath. Why? I could have sworn out loud. There was no one to hear me since my wife Penelope died five years ago.

I opened the inner door. Standing in the porch with the outer door shut behind her was my friend and near neighbour Helen.

“Come in,” I said. “I’ve just made a cup of tea.”

Helen followed me into the kitchen. I poured her a cup of tea before we went back to my sitting room.

“This is an unexpected visit,” I said because Helen seemed reluctant to say why she had come.

“I don’t know how to ask this,” she said hesitatingly.

“Then just ask,” I prompted.

“You know this evening we have the Christmas procession?”

“Yes, Helen. I know. I used to be part of it.”

I had been until about five years ago. I had the major role of Father Christmas on an illuminated float. The procession went to all nine churches in our town as a mobile version of the service of nine lessons and carols. One lesson was read outside each church, a carol was sung, and the procession moved on to the next church. The procession ended in the town square and Father Christmas distributed small presents to the children. I had been replaced by a younger man.

“Jack’s in hospital,” Helen blurted out.

“Oh dear!” I said. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“He was knocked off his bicycle this morning. We think it is only cuts and bruises but they are keeping him in tonight.”

If they were keeping him in hospital on Christmas Eve I suspected that Jack was more seriously hurt than just cuts and bruises. I knew what Helen was going to ask before she did.

“Paul? Could you do Father Christmas again, please?”

“Helen, you knew why I stopped doing it, don’t you?”

“Yes, Paul. Your medication was changed and you couldn’t stand the cold anymore.”

“And that’s still true, Helen. I’d like to help. But since I gave up I haven’t even been to watch the procession. If I get too cold it takes me hours to recover and could be serious for me if I get really cold.”

“I know, Paul, but we’ve changed the float and I think we can keep you warm.”

“How? Obviously I’d like to help but the risks to me are real.”