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At fifty-five Christmas is a lot different than it was when we were kids, which is different from when we had a growing family in our arms, which is different from when our kids were starting to strike out on their own. Each of these incarnations of Christmas meant changing or making new family traditions. Four years ago when the last of our four kids struck out on their own, starting their own family, we again changed our traditions. Christmas Eve was now a quiet time for my wife and me. The kids all came back on Christmas day or after for a celebration with us and their growing families. That left Christmas Eve for us, just the two of us.
Trying to rekindle a little of the romance and playfulness in our relationship we started a new tradition. We shared personal gifts to each other, which always included something sexy to wear, which had to be modeled that night of course, followed by some Christmas love. It was a tradition I was thoroughly enjoying. The new tradition had seemed to awaken more than a little of the sexual playfulness that had disappeared over the years raising our children, and the lack of privacy that entailed. Last year she gave me a pair of absolutely microscopic underwear, that once she modeled the lingerie I gave her, was completely incapable of containing my growth, which seemed to be her plan. We ended up making love under the tree wearing only what we had given each other.
As Christmas approached this year I was enjoying thinking back to how her nearly naked body looked on the carpet by the tree, lit only by the blinking lights as I lay on top of her, slowly stroking in and out of her wet pussy, the only real sounds the gentle squish of her wetness and the moans of her pleasure. Unfortunately this year that memory may be the only part of our newly minted tradition that I get to enjoy. Why you ask? Because this morning my wife informed me that her sister would be joining us for Christmas Eve.
Don’t get me wrong. I like her sister. She wasn’t like a lot of sister-in-laws. She and I got along well. I wouldn’t say we were close, but we were certainly friendly with each other. When we saw each other we usually ended up joking and even on occasion kidding each other with sexually slanted comments. But the last two years she’d been a real downer, mostly because her ex-husband ran off with someone fifteen years younger. Now she seemed to be a much less cheerful person, prone to bouts of depression. My wife had taken it as her mission to try and help her move beyond her ass hole ex and start looking at life through a new set of glasses. I suppose that’s why she was going to have Amanda over for Christmas Eve. Dinner followed by church followed by our gift exchange.
“Scott,” my wife said, getting my attention as we sat on the living room floor wrapping presents for our grandkids.
“You’re not angry at me over Amanda coming over tonight, are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Lover, we’ve been married for thirty-five years, you think I don’t know when you’re upset about something.”
“Okay. Disappointed I guess.”
“After last year, yeah,” I answered her with a frown.
“What makes you think this year will be different?”
“Honey. Let’s face it. You’re not going to want to wear what I got you in front of your sister.”
“No? Why not? You think that she’s not seen me naked or something?”
“What I got for you isn’t naked.”
“Oh? A little on the kinky side? Or just plain slutty? I know how much you love seeing me in those sexy little outfits.”
“It’s… Um… Interesting.”
“Oh really? Well, what I got you is…interesting as well.”
“Oh? Well I can still wear it for you in the bedroom tonight.”
“What? Not going to model it when you unwrap it? That was the deal we made four years ago, right? Unwrap and model, whatever it might happen to be?”
“Yeah. But your sister?”
“What, afraid that your half naked body might scare her?”
“Not that. You sure you want me half naked in front of her?”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that? You just plan on modeling what I got you and I’ll model what you got me and we’ll let Mother Nature take its course.”
“Whatever,” I said with a frown, deciding to let it drop there.
We finished wrapping the gifts, started dinner and went to shower and change. When I came out of the bedroom in my suit and tie, Amanda was already there, dressed in a red dress that was very uncomplimentary to her figure. Eve my wife, wasn’t quite a carbon copy of Amanda, but they were very obviously sisters. Both had similarly long brown hair with natural gray highlights and were almost exactly the same height. Neither were the slender proportions of their college years, having had a bit of the typical middle age weight gain, though I wouldn’t ever consider either fat. I was very familiar with my wife’s dimensions, 36-32-36 with ample, almost overflowing C cup breasts. I guessed that Amanda fake hospital hastane was pretty close to the same dimensions, including her breasts, though I’d never really had the chance to see for sure. She generally had worn outfits that hid rather than complimented her figure, much like the dress she had on now.
We sat down and ate dinner, a ham and potato casserole that I was particularly fond of. The girls chatted across the table, only occasionally including me in the conversation. After we finished my wife got up and took Amanda along with her to the bedroom, which puzzled me a little given that both were already dressed for church.
“Come on. We’ll be late!” I called down the hall almost twenty minutes later.
“We’re coming!” My wife called before clomping her way down the hardwood hallway in her high heels, a second set of clomping feet following her. My wife walked past me toward the coat closet, Amanda following. I did a double take and whispered “Damn,” under my breath at the sight of her. She wore a formfitting red wraparound dress that I recognized as one of my wife’s sexier dresses that she’s only worn a few times, usually when she wants to tease me. The slick red material only came down to the middle of her thighs, her legs glistening in a pair of nude color stockings, looked even longer in the four inch red heels she had on.
“I heard that,” my wife said as she pulled on her coat.
“Heard what?” I asked innocently as I turned and walked toward the garage door to back the car out. Retreat is often the best course of action, and getting caught complimenting your wife’s sister’s outfit is probably a good time to beat a hasty retreat. Before I could hear her response I was in the garage with the door closing behind me. I climbed into the car and backed out of the garage, waiting in the driveway for my wife and her sister to come out through the garage. In the headlights both of them looked damn hot, considering we were going to church and not off to some nightclub or party. My wife climbed into the back seat and her sister into the passenger seat and I backed out of the drive. As I drove across town, Amanda was illuminated in almost strobe like flashes as I passed under the street lights. I couldn’t quite help but notice that the seat belt had pulled her skirt up higher on her thighs, high enough that I could easily see the tops of the stockings encasing her legs.
“Scott. If you keep looking at my sister’s legs and not paying attention to where you’re driving, you’re going to end up on the sidewalk,” my wife said from the back seat.
“I’m not…” I protested.
“Liar!” my wife said from the back seat. I could almost swear I heard her giggle after accusing me.
I looked over at Amanda in the flashing streetlights, a clearly embarrassed look on her face, but making no attempt to pull the skirt back down any lower, though her fingers were toying with the hem. If anything, her idle fingering the hem was inching it up higher, almost high enough that I thought a few times as she shifted in the seat I might have caught a glimpse of red panties between her legs. I did my best to not look like I was looking, even though I couldn’t help but look. The only time I’d ever seen this much leg on her was when she was wearing one of her very conservative one-piece swimsuits, and that was rare. Many times she even wore shorts over the suit, as if letting her crotch be seen was out of the question. I couldn’t help but wonder if that had something to do with her husband’s exit from their marriage.
“Here we are!” I said as I pulled into the church parking lot. I didn’t get a response and I didn’t really expect one. I parked and got out of the car, starting to walk around to the passenger side to walk my wife to the building, as was my custom. My wife looped her arm in one of mine. Before I could take a step, Amanda slipped her arm through my other arm so that I had one of them on each side. I felt a little conspicuous but no one seemed to notice one way or the other. We sat through the candlelight service with Amanda on one side of me and my wife on the other. Even in church it was hard to ignore the sight of the tops of her stockings peeking at me from under the hem of the skirt.
The ride home was more typical of the last few years. My wife sat in the passenger seat, her skirt hiked up, either intentionally or unintentionally, well up her thighs. As she moved her legs around on the drive it seemed to slide even higher, until I could see the white lace panties she had on under the red Christmas dress. “Keep your eyes on the road there mister, not in my lap,” she said with a grin.
“I’m trying. But it’s hard when I can see your panties like that,” I said quietly enough that I hoped her sister wouldn’t hear me.
“Oh? It’s my panties that has you distracted?” she asked sweetly. “Well maybe we should do something about that.”
She pulled her skirt down, effectively ending the show I had. I had to admit I was a bit disappointed. fake taxi porno She pulled on her seat belt and then to my surprise, she pulled her skirt back up for a moment. I couldn’t see what she was doing in the dark between the street lights, but I couldn’t miss the result of her actions, a pair of white lace bikini panties landing on the dashboard in front of me. “There. Now you can see my panties and the road!”
“Shit.” I swore quietly, realizing that if those were her panties, then she wasn’t wearing any, any longer. “Did you really just take off your underwear?”
“Could be. Wanna see?” she asked playfully, toying with her skirt in the little flashes of light.
“Hell yeah!” I answered with a laugh.
“Here,” she said as we flashed through a bright spot, her skirt about half way up her thighs. “There,” she said as we flashed through the next bright spot, her hands already pulling the skirt back down.
“Hey, I didn’t get to see!” I protested.
“Too bad. I suppose you’ll have to wait until we get home then. I’d hate to distract you too much,” she said with a soft chuckle, knowing that she had just perpetrated her most diabolical tease to date.
“Not fair,” I said quietly, shaking my head at how turned on her little game had gotten me. So much so that I’d almost forgotten that her sister was sitting in the back seat watching the whole thing.
“That’s what you think. You should feel how wet I am already,” my wife said with a giggle.
I reached across the center console, reaching to her lap, only to get my hand slapped. “Uh uh. Too distracting. Both hands on the wheel big boy.”
I drove the rest of the way to the house in silence, wishing that when we got home we could do something about the bulge in my pants, but with her sister here, it was clearly going to have to wait until bedtime, unfortunately. I pulled into the drive and stopped in front of the garage, hitting the door opener. My wife and her sister got out of the car and headed into the house through the garage. I could see them talking as they walked, clearly in no particular hurry. They stopped in the middle of the garage and as they stood in the headlights I watched Amanda lift her skirt higher on her thighs, reach under with her fingers and pull down her underwear, wiggling to work it down over her butt without lifting her skirt all the way up. She pulled it down and stepped out of it, walking after my wife to the back door. I watched her walk into the house, the door closing with the red panties hanging on the doorknob of the now closed door.
“What the hell is my wife up to?” I asked myself as I pulled the car into the garage. I climbed out and grabbed my wife’s panties off the dash and then headed into the house, collecting Amanda’s underwear on the way.
“Well, there you are. Ready to open presents?” my wife asked as I walked into the living room, the tree lights all turned on and only a few of the room lights on so it was semi dark in the room. “Amanda’s passing out our gifts for each other. Go ahead and sit down.”
“Okay, sure,” I answered, still not at all sure what the hell she was playing at. In our new little tradition, we jointly passed out the gifts to each other, making sure to put our special package on the bottom for last. I knew how I wrapped my special present for her and it was most definitely NOT on the bottom of the pile. In fact, it was practically on top.
“So you want to go first?” my wife said. “You are the youngest.”
“Yeah, by a few dozen days.” I chuckled, playing the game we did every year. It was tradition in our family to open from youngest to oldest. Without the kids, I was the youngest, a fact she liked to rub in each year. I opened my gifts from her, some new hunting bib coveralls, a new fishing reel, a few fishing baits and a new pair of high power binoculars. The last present was, well, a Santa hat. Not a big one, just a tiny one with a long string. I looked at my wife curiously and put the hat on my head. “How’s this?”
“Wrong head lover!” she said with a grin.
“I said, wrong head. It goes on the other one.”
It took several seconds before I realized what she was saying. “Seriously?”
“Completely. Now you know the rule. Gotta go put it on.”
“But with your sister here?” I asked a little surprised.
“Why not? Didn’t you say this summer you wanted to take me to a nude beach? If you’re willing to do that, what difference does it make if my sister sees part of you? I mean the important parts are all covered, right?”
I opened my mouth to protest again and then closed it. She was right. I had suggested we try a nude beach, even though so far she’d refused. I got up and walked to the bedroom, stripping off my clothes and putting the little hat on over my dick and balls. I tied the string around my waist and looked down at what little was covering me. If she really wanted me to walk out there like this, well why the hell not?
“Ohhhhh Now that’s a Santa hat!” my wife family stroke porno said with a huge grin. “Don’t you think Amanda?”
“I have to admit it looks about like you said it would.”
“You do realize what’s going to happen when he remembers that neither of us are wearing underwear, right?” my wife asked, slowly sliding the hem of her skirt up her thighs until she had it bunched up around her waist. “You do remember that, right?” my wife asked me.
“Oh damn.” I muttered as she spread her legs to let me see her surprisingly freshly shaved pussy. I hadn’t seen her do that since my birthday almost ten years ago.
“Come on Mandy,” my wife said to her sister, using the nickname I hadn’t heard since they were much younger. “Everything I do, right?”
“I don’t know if I can,” she answered her sister.
“You can,” my wife said, looking over at her. As I stood there staring, Amanda reached for the hem of her skirt and slowly pulled it up her thighs, exposing the tops of her stockings, then the creamy white bare skin above the stockings and finally pulling it all the way to her waist. Even before she spread her legs I could see that her mound was shaved clean, and as she spread her legs apart I was treated to a perfect view of her entire pussy as she sat on the edge of the sofa next to my wife.
“Ohhhhh,” Amanda said as the view of their two bare, very similar looking pussies had the effect my wife was apparently planning. I could feel myself hardening and it only took a glance down to see that the tiny Santa hat wasn’t going to contain my length very long. I looked back over to the girls sitting on the edge of the sofa and sat down in my chair again, my now hard cock sticking up with the small hat perched on top covering only about half its length.
“My turn now!” my wife said cheerfully. “Let’s do this one first,” she said picking up my special package. She opened the package and grinned. “Ohhhhh, Now this is sexy. I’ll be right back. I gotta put this on,” she said, getting up and heading toward the bedroom. “Make sure you keep him hard!” she called over her shoulder.
“So, you like what you see?” Amanda asked in a clearly nervous voice.
“I don’t think… hell I KNOW I haven’t ever seen anywhere near this much of you,” I answered her.
“Probably not. But do you like it?”
“It’s very sexy,” I answered honestly.
She spread her legs a bit farther apart and reached down between them, tentatively stroking her thigh, her fingers inching slowly toward her smooth pussy lips. As her fingers moved closer, she spread her legs even farther apart, the tips now stroking along the right side of her full round lips, her protruding inner lips spreading slightly as they glistened slightly in the blinking tree lights. “It feels smooth. Kinda a turn on I guess.”
“For both of us,” I answered quietly.
“Well what do you think?” my wife asked wearing the outfit I had gotten her. She stood in the entrance to the living room looking like she had on nothing but a giant red ribbon. The top of the outfit had red cups supporting her large soft breasts, looking like parts of the bow, with a single wide strip of red ribbon extending down over her stomach and between her legs. I could just see tiny red strings holding the outfit in place, but it most certainly had the effect I’d hoped for when I ordered it online.
“God you’re hot looking,” I answered her.
“I’m glad. I kind of feel like a package to be opened. Maybe later you’ll have to do the honors.”
“That was kind of the idea,” I answered her as she walked back around the sofa.
“So let’s see what else I have,” she said as she sat down and picked up the next package. I’d gotten her a new bottle of her favorite perfume, a few new blouses and a new pair of Beats headphones. “Thank you lover. I think I’ll leave unwrapping me for later. Okay Mandy. Your turn.”
“Um. Okay,” she said, reaching down for one of the four packages she had on the floor next to her feet. She opened what was obviously a clothing box and drew up a satin blouse that looked like it would be extremely seductive. The second, also a flat rectangular box, was a short black skirt, easily as short as the dress she had on, if not a little shorter. The next to last box was a pair of black silk stockings and a black garter belt.
“Looks like you have a new outfit to wear tomorrow,” my wife said with a grin. “And look what it doesn’t have, none of those industrial strength bras or old granny panties. I bet my husband is gonna be hard all day watching you walk around in that.”
“This is all really nice, but I couldn’t possibly wear any of this without underwear,” Amanda protested.
“Can and will. But you have one more package. Just like us, it’s a special package and you have to wear only what’s in it.”
Amanda picked up the last package and opened it without another word. She pulled out a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs, holding them up curiously. “These aren’t to wear.”
“But they are. But just for fun, why don’t you let Scott undress you. Might be more fun that way.”
“Honey?” I asked her in surprise.
“Oh come on lover. You know you want to see her naked. Besides, all she has on is the stockings and the dress. I had her take the bra off when we got home.”
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